Yinuo: Taking the Robber on the Road
The author of "The World's Happiest Man," Yongge Mingjiu Rinpoche, is a very humorous person.

The author of "The World's Happiest Man," Yongge Mingjiu Rinpoche, is a very humorous person.
He said that when he was a child, he knew meditation was very important and he really enjoyed it.
But I soon realized that what I actually liked was "the idea of meditation"—the feeling that it was a good thing, but not truly enjoying the act of doing it. The reason? I'm just lazy!
Later on, there was a time when he gave a lecture for two hours, drinking water while he spoke, and by the end, he really needed to use the restroom. Just then, someone in the audience asked a question, asking what the feeling of relaxation and release was like. He thought, "Ah! It's the feeling of being able to go to the restroom soon."
That's why his books are so enjoyable. They're incredibly down-to-earth, and I often find myself laughing out loud while reading them.
When he was 13 years old, he had the opportunity to practice at a monastery in India for three years. For a child of that age, this was an extraordinary experience, somewhat akin to being a child prodigy in university.
He naturally felt quite proud. However, after arriving, he realized it was very different from what he had imagined. First, most of the other students were Indian, and he couldn't understand what they were saying. Additionally, the other students seemed to already know each other, making it difficult for him to fit in.
Moreover, he felt that the person in charge of the monastery was very strict. One day, while lying on his bed in the dormitory, he noticed a crack in the windowpane. He became very nervous, especially afraid that the person in charge would think he had caused it. He desperately hoped for a chance to explain that the crack had been there before he arrived!
Do these details and little thoughts sound quite similar to the inner monologues of us ordinary people?
He has been sensitive since childhood and often experiences panic attacks. Thunderstorms, heavy rain, or even his grandmother scolding him for coming home late can easily make him feel tense.
When he arrived at the temple, he often found himself caught in such tension, so he was engaged in an intense internal struggle over whether to stay or not. If he continued, it would mean three years of such a life, which seemed like it would be very painful. If he didn’t continue and went home instead, he felt it would be a blow to his pride, especially since he had left with the label of a "young college student." So, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and stay at the temple.
Once, he discussed his anxieties and fears with his teacher.
The teacher said, "Let me tell you a story."
On the road from Nepal to Tibet, there are many bandits. Caravans of merchants transporting goods are often robbed.
So many merchants tried to find ways and hired bodyguards. However, they soon realized that bodyguards were not effective. These merchants didn’t have that much money and couldn’t pay the bodyguards too much. The bandits were numerous, strong, and well-armed. Once the bandits actually showed up, the bodyguards, seeing their own lives in danger, would often put up a brief resistance and then run away. In the end, the merchant caravans spent no less money but still ended up getting robbed.
Later, a merchant came up with an idea. When the bandits arrived, he went to negotiate with them and said, "How about this? You work as my bodyguard. As long as you accompany me to the destination, I’ll give you a portion of the goods. That way, you can still get my goods without having to rob anyone. The goods can be sold for money. If you can do this, I can introduce you to other merchant caravans. Gradually, you’ll earn more money, buy a house, start a family, and live a decent life. What do you think?"
The robber thought it over and realized it was indeed a good idea, so he agreed. The merchant's major problem was thus resolved.
After finishing the story, the teacher asked, "Did you understand?"
He said he understood, this merchant is really clever.
The teacher asked again, "Think about it once more—what does this story mean?"
Your panic is the robber.
He suddenly realized that the teacher meant that on our journey, when facing our own "enemies"—such as panic, laziness, nervousness, and sensitivity—what we should do is not to avoid them or find a protective layer to shield ourselves from their harm.
Instead, we should be like that merchant, negotiating with the bandits and traveling alongside them.
It was "resolved" by inviting the bandits to join them.
Because of this realization, he stayed behind, negotiated and traveled with his "robbers," ultimately overcoming his own panic and becoming a master of his generation.
Twenty years ago, when he was in his twenties, he began lecturing worldwide. Later, he gained global recognition for being the first person to demonstrate, through long-term neuroscience tracking studies, that prolonged meditation has measurable positive effects on the human brain. These studies were conducted at the Center for Healthy Minds at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, starting in 2002. Due to the results of these studies, he became known worldwide, and several of his books became bestsellers. Over the years, he has remained active on lecture platforms around the world. Research at the center is still ongoing. A 2020 paper from the center demonstrated that long-term meditation can make a person's brain younger than their actual physiological age—in the case of Mingyur Rinpoche, by as much as eight years.
This year, I had the opportunity to chat with him—a precious encounter that allowed me to record our interview.

In this conversation, I've asked many questions that trouble me, and I believe they also trouble many friends.
For example:
Listening to stories is interesting, but for ordinary people, how can we make that "leap" of inviting the robber? How should we adjust our inner state to make it easier for us to take such a step?
These cultivation experiences are quite interesting to read, yet they feel so distant from our daily lives. What connection do our mundane routines and trivial, chaotic existence have with such things?
My own father is a meditation master. What are some memorable experiences from my childhood with him?
As ordinary parents, we often can't help but lose our temper. Did your parents ever get angry with you when you were young? (Spoiler alert: the answer is never, which is why I find this conversation quite thought-provoking—if we could manage not to get angry with our children, perhaps we could also raise a Rinpoche.)
Also, you're involved in school projects in Nepal. What are your thoughts on education? What kind of education do you hope to provide for children?
As adults, we often find the path of inner growth to be quite challenging. What can we do to make this journey of inner development easier for our children?
There are still some major issues—
We are living in an era of anxiety and conflict. How can ordinary people navigate this?
Faced with formidable external forces that possess resources and weapons, we as individuals often feel insignificant and utterly powerless to resist them. What should we do in such situations? Give up? Are there other paths?
If you're also curious about the answers to these questions, I hope you enjoy this interview.