Once, in a quiet valley wrapped in mist and the soft song of birds, there lived a kind and gentle father named Orgyen. Every evening, as the sky turned golden and the stars began to peek through the night, Orgyen would sit with his daughter, Dawa, under the great Bodhi tree in their garden. It was their special time—when the world grew still, and Orgyen would share the deep wisdom he carried in his heart.
One evening, as Dawa snuggled close to her father, she looked up at him with curious eyes. “Papa, sometimes my mind feels like a storm, with too many thoughts flying around. How can I make it calm?”
Orgyen smiled, his voice soft as the wind rustling the leaves above them. “Ah, little Dawa,” he said, “inside each of us, beyond all the thoughts and feelings, there is something much deeper, much clearer—something we call the pristine mind. It’s like a vast, bright sky, untouched by any clouds. Even when there’s a storm in your mind, that clear sky is always there, waiting for you.”
Dawa’s eyes widened in wonder. “Is it really there, Papa? How do I find it?”
Orgyen gently placed his hand on her chest, over her heart. “Close your eyes, little one, and take a deep breath. Imagine the sky—so wide and open, where the clouds come and go, but the sky itself never changes. This is your mind, too. No matter what thoughts or feelings come, your pristine mind is always clear, like the blue sky.”
Dawa closed her eyes, her breath becoming soft and slow. In her mind’s eye, she saw the bright, boundless sky Orgyen spoke of, with only a few gentle clouds floating by.
“And now,” Orgyen whispered, “imagine a light, like the sun, shining from the very center of your heart. This light is pure, just like your pristine mind. Let it grow brighter, filling your whole body with its warmth and peace. This is the light of love, of kindness, of everything good. It’s always with you.”
Dawa smiled as she felt the light glowing inside her, warm and golden like the sun. “What happens when the clouds come back?” she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Orgyen kissed her forehead. “Even when the clouds come, the sky remains clear, and the light never dims. You can always return to this peaceful place inside. Just breathe, and the clouds will drift away. Let the light of your pristine mind guide you.”
As the stars began to twinkle in the sky above them, Orgyen stood up, lifting Dawa gently in his arms. “Now, little one,” he said, “it’s time for you to rest. When you dream tonight, imagine yourself in the clear, bright light. Let your dreams be filled with love, kindness, and the warmth of your pristine mind.”
Dawa’s eyelids grew heavy as she rested her head on her father’s shoulder. “Will I see the light in my dreams, Papa?” she asked, her voice growing softer.
Orgyen smiled as he carried her inside and tucked her into bed. “Yes, my dear Dawa. When you close your eyes, you can dream of the clear light. You’ll drift through the skies, where there are no worries—only peace, kindness, and love. And when you wake, the light of your pristine mind will still be with you, just as bright.”
With a final kiss on her forehead, Orgyen whispered, “Sleep well, little one, and let your dreams be filled with the light of the pristine mind.”
And so, with her father’s gentle words in her heart, Dawa closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, feeling the warmth of the light within her. As she dreamed, she floated through a sky filled with clear light, kindness, and the soft glow of love—her pristine mind guiding her through every gentle dream.
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