The Sun is a minor star in a small galaxy, in a universe of billions. And yet, it can make a flower smile. Carl Sagan often reminded us that even in the immensity of the cosmos, the warmth of a single star sustains life and beauty here on Earth. Vastness does not diminish intimacy.
Romain Rolland, in his biography of Swami Vivekananda, recounts a story from the Jaipur palace. After Ramakrishna’s passing, Vivekananda travelled across India and was often hosted by kings and nobles. In Jaipur, the king arranged a dance performance by the most renowned courtesan of his palace. Vivekananda, offended, withdrew to his quarters. The king worried about displeasing him, but it was the courtesan who sent a note that carried the true teaching:
“The Sun does not discriminate. It shines on all — the saint and the sinner, the lotus and the mud. Why then should an enlightened one like you?”
This reminder became a mirror for Vivekananda. Just as the Sun warms every flower without judgment, true wisdom does not exclude. The courtesan’s note revealed that enlightenment is not about separation, but about seeing the divine equally in all beings.
We see the same truth in other traditions. In the Gospels, Jesus did not shun Mary Magdalene despite her social stigma. Instead, he welcomed her as a disciple and allowed her to be the first witness to the resurrection. His openness showed that divine recognition is not bound by categories of “pure” and “impure.” Compassion, like sunlight, embraces all.
Zen offers another wave. Two monks came to a stream where a young woman stood unable to cross. One monk lifted her and carried her across. Hours later, his companion, troubled, asked: “Why did you break your vow by touching a woman?” The elder replied: “I put her down hours ago. Are you still carrying her?” The teaching is clear: true practice is not about clinging to rules or appearances, but about responding with compassion in the moment.
Across Hindu, Christian, and Zen lenses, the lesson converges: enlightenment does not exclude. Social categories — courtesan, sinner, woman, untouchable — are human constructs. The divine light, whether expressed as Sun, Christ, or Dharma, shines impartially. The “unexpected guru” may appear in any form: a courtesan, a stigmatized disciple, or a woman at a stream.
The story turns the telescope around. Sagan used the cosmic view to make us cherish the intimate. The courtesan used the intimate — a beam of sunlight on mud and lotus alike — to reveal a cosmic spiritual truth: consciousness, like sunlight, is fundamentally impartial. Vastness does not diminish intimacy; true vastness of spirit includes all intimacy, all particularity, without judgment.
The cosmos is not cold because it is vast. It is the source of the very warmth that allows for the flower, the saint, the sinner, and the moment of understanding between a weary monk, a wise courtesan, a compassionate Christ, and a Zen elder at a stream. The final teaching is that to be truly “enlightened” is not to flee from the mud, but to recognize that the same light that makes the lotus glow also sleeps within it.
