The Parable of the Mustard Seeds

Mustard Flowers

Long ago, in the city of Sāvatthi, there lived a young woman named Kisa Gotami. She came from a poor family and married into a wealthy one. For years, she was treated poorly by her in-laws, but when she gave birth to a beloved son, their attitude softened—she finally felt accepted. Tragically, when the boy was just old enough to walk and play, he fell ill and died.

Overwhelmed by grief, Kisa refused to accept his death. Carrying his lifeless body, she went from door to door, begging for medicine to bring him back to life. People pitied her but thought she had lost her mind. Eventually, a kind elder advised her: "Go to the Buddha—he is wise and may help you."

Kisa rushed to the Buddha, still clutching her child, and pleaded, "Blessed One, please give me medicine to cure my son and bring him back!" The Buddha replied calmly: "I can help you, but first you must bring me a handful of mustard seeds." Joy filled her heart—this seemed simple, as mustard seeds were common in every household." But," the Buddha added, "the seeds must come from a home where no one has ever died—no child, no parent, no relative, no friend."

Feeling hopeful, Kisa went door to door. At each house, people willingly offered mustard seeds, saying, "Here, take some!" But when she asked, "Has anyone in this home ever died?" the answer was always yes—a son, a daughter, a husband, a parent, a loved one. House after house, the story was the same. No family was untouched by death.

As the day wore on, realization dawned on her: Suffering and loss touch every life. She was not alone in her grief—it was shared by all beings. Finally, Kisa buried her son's body in the forest and returned to the Buddha empty-handed. "Did you bring the mustard seeds?" he asked. "No, Lord.” The Buddha said gently: "Clinging brings suffering; letting go brings peace." With this profound insight, Kisa's grief transformed into a powerful understanding of the shared nature of suffering, guiding her ultimately to enlightenment.

As with many parables, this one presents rich layers of meaning. It poignantly reveals that, in the face of losing a child, our first responses are typically disbelief and denial. We grapple with accepting the harsh reality and struggle to release our hold on what we have lost.

I recently read a book, titled “Faith, Hope, and Carnage,” by Nick Cave, an Australian singer and song-writer. His son Arthur died in 2015 from a hiking accident. Cave has been very open about his own grief process. He said in the book that after losing a loved one, “There is a very dangerous and seductive feeling to living life on the brink…In that very dark place, the grieving person can feel a proximity to the one they have lost the can be difficult to turn away from, or return from…there can be a kind of morbid worshipping of an absence. A reluctance to move beyond the trauma, because the trauma is where the one you lost resides, and therefore, the place where meaning exists.”

While the instinct to hold on to our pain is understandable, I learned firsthand after the stillbirth of my son Lucas that remaining in that dark place can be perilous. Many of us have heard the saying, “We cannot control what happened to us, but we can control how we respond.” After the loss of a loved one, we face two choices: remain trapped in sorrow, never to heal, or, as Cave beautifully articulates, “be reborn and expand.”

My journey after losing Lucas was marked by a near-death experience, both emotionally and physically. I lost so much blood that I spent a week in the ICU, feeling as if my entire life had been shattered into countless pieces. Like Kisa, I clung to the hope that I was merely trapped in a nightmare and that I would soon wake up to find everything right again. But as long as I clung to that pain, I found myself stuck in perpetual darkness, unable to awaken. It became clear that I had to let go in order to truly move forward and heal.

I ultimately chose to pick up the pieces and rebuild my life because I discovered a profound new mission. My son’s life was tragically cut short, and he was denied the opportunity to live it fully. This realization drives me to honor his memory by embracing life to its fullest in his name. Since his passing, I have published numerous articles and authored three more books. My husband and I have also established several scholarships in Lucas’s name for high school and college students, helping to empower the next generation. Additionally, we have traveled more frequently, exploring some of the world’s most cherished sites. Now, I am working on a documentary to shed light about stillbirths in America.

Cave resonates with this perspective as well. He has produced remarkable music and embarked on numerous projects since the death of his son, including many he had never considered before. He remarked, “Grief can be a gift, a positive force, if we allow it to express itself fully… Choosing happiness after a loss is a conscious decision. There is a sense of defiance in that choice, standing strong against the world’s indifference and its casual cruelty.”

If you have experienced the loss of a loved one and are in deep sorrow, know that your pain is felt. I want to assure you that with time and resilience, you can emerge from this experience even stronger. Embrace the possibility of finding joy and fulfillment once more; the strength to heal is within you, if you choose to embrace it.