(Minghui.org) Greetings, Master and fellow practitioners!
I was considered an easy child. I was quiet, reserved, and obedient. I helped out at home, did my homework without being told, got good grades, and looked after my younger brother. As a result, I was often praised at home and at school.
I was very close to my maternal grandmother, and looking back, I realize that she spoiled me. My parents sometimes argued and fought, while the environment at my grandparent’s home was quiet and enjoyable. They went to nice restaurants, hosted parties, shopped at upscale stores, traveled, and spent time at the country club. I enjoyed a comfortable life with them.
My parents divorced when I was six years old. When my mother remarried two years later and planned to move, I said I wanted to live with my grandparents. While my mom thought about how to handle things, my grandmother developed cancer. She died just before my tenth birthday. My mother picked up spoiling me where my grandmother left off.
As I grew up, I remained quiet and shy well into high school. Although life wasn’t perfect, it was mostly smooth. My best friend’s family was well-off, and they included me in their comfortable lifestyle. School was easy for me, and I grew used to not having to put in much effort to achieve good results. I also grew used to hearing nice things said about me.
Before I began practicing Falun Dafa, I remembered these times fondly. But after I began practicing, my understanding changed. Perhaps I traded some de (virtue) for these things. I now realize some things were either arranged by the old forces or taken advantage of by them.
The first few months after I began practicing, I did not know how to look within. I could easily see other’s attachments, but could not see my own. I even seemed to have forgotten the principle I learned as an everyday person that, “what I see in others is a reflection of myself.” Master saw my wish to improve and helped me see an attachment I’d even bragged I didn’t have—the competitive mentality. I was so surprised that I told a non-practitioner friend I’d discovered my competitiveness, to which he laughed and said, “I could have told you that!” I was again surprised. It showed me how others can sometimes see in us what is so deeply hidden, even from ourselves.
I wondered why I’d been unable to look within. What blocked me? I was reminded of a practitioner early on discussing some of her attachments. I thought, “How does she tell others about these things so easily? If I had these bad things, I’m not sure I could talk about them.” It dawned on me that the reason I could not look within was due to another strong attachment – upholding my reputation. I could not bear to think of myself in a bad light, let alone risk having others see me in a bad light. It was so strong, and so well-hidden that it nearly kept me from cultivating.
I now see that my early years set the stage for attachments like reputation, wanting to hear nice things, and competitiveness. These began developing from such a young age that they seemed to be a natural part of me, and I could not even see them. As I grew older and became a physician, these attachments grew stronger. I also liked to show off and I looked down on others.
In my understanding, attachments like showing off, competitiveness, zealotry, reputation, and fame, are rooted in jealousy. We all know what Master said about jealousy in Zhuan Falun.
In fact, isn’t the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) behavior rooted in jealousy? Aren’t the actions of the old forces also rooted in jealousy?
Jealousy, and all of the related attachments that help feed it, must be taken very seriously.
While I’ve made some progress, these things still appear at times. When they do, I try to remember that these thoughts are not the real me, but rather evil entities in other dimensions trying to control me. The more I allow these thoughts, the stronger that thing becomes, and the harder it is to get rid of. I try to see them as very tiny things and eliminate them if they appear.
I’ve noticed that attachments can be quite sly. For example, the attachment to comfort seems to me like it should be something easy to recognize and eliminate; it is actually quite sneaky and can manifest in different ways. The attachment to comfort, which goes back perhaps even to other lifetimes for me, is one of these attachments.
For example, sometimes, when I’m working on something, if I enjoy what I’m doing, the attachment to comfort may make me take longer and I work more slowly, wasting precious time. Or, when I do what I should do without thought or complaint, I may later have the thought, “I’ve been doing this and that recently, so it’s okay to rest a little.”
When complacency develops, it both feeds the attachments of ego and comfort. I feel I have done well and think highly of myself, so the thought comes that it’s okay to take a rest. This is why Master always tells us to strive forward diligently. Complacency is a big loophole for the old forces to take advantage of.
I also realized that not only do I have an attachment to physical comfort, but to mental comfort as well. This desire for mental comfort can keep one from being responsible to oneself and others, from being diligent, looking within, and tempering the will, among other things.
In fact, aren’t things that temper one’s mind part of the process of cultivation? How can I possibly improve if I avoid discomfort? While in some scenarios, I may do okay, there are still instances where I want to avoid things that make me uncomfortable. For example, I’ve never liked paying the bills—I don’t even like to discuss it—so my husband has kindly done them over the years. It’s not that he likes paying the bills either, and he’s sometimes frustrated or stressed. Yet he does them because he knows that I don’t like to. Why can’t I tolerate that task? It’s because the stress causes mental discomfort, and rather than feeling uncomfortable, I avoid it.
Through studying the Fa, I understand that attachment to comfort is very dangerous. It is very sneaky and sly. It can easily put a thought into our mind to do this, or not do that, and it seems like a natural thought coming from ourselves. It acts as a warm blanket, wrapping us up inside, making us so relaxed and lulled into laziness that we cannot pull ourselves out of attachments to things like emotion, fear, fame, and gain. It can keep us from being responsible to ourselves and those we’ve promised to help save—and so we must be ever-mindful of our thoughts and habits. I feel that the attachment to comfort is one of the main things the old forces use to ruin practitioners.
Another attachment that can easily sneak in is resentment. I experienced this last year when I began to feel things were unfair at my job. I was doing contract work and was bound to an 8-hour workday per company rules, yet my supervisor gave me one of the largest assignments with the most demanding deadlines. It was a lot of mental pressure, and I had to work many unpaid hours to keep up. At first, I was happy to have the job and was willing to endure hardship – but I put a limit on my endurance. And as the contract was repeatedly extended, complacency developed, and I began to have resentment over the unfair treatment. Finally, I had some vague thoughts about not really caring if the job ended because it was so hard. Several weeks later, out of the blue, the company ended all contractor positions, even though they’d announced they’d been extended for at least another five months.
Now, without a job, and having not seen my attachment to resentment, as time went on, I found myself becoming increasingly irritated over little things – like my son iinterrupting me if I was working on something, or someone asking me to do something additional to help them out. I didn’t eliminate these thoughts, and a formidable being began to form. My patience lessened, and my resentment grew. It finally took an incident that nearly ruined me to awaken me to this terrible attachment.
Resentment comes when we feel we’ve been wronged or treated unfairly. Communism’s egalitarianism says everyone must be treated equally. Yet we cultivators know that everyone cannot possibly be treated the same, and while things may sometimes appear to be unfair, they are, in fact, not unfair.
This attachment can be easily reinforced by others saying someone has wronged us. We may even want to hold onto resentment since we feel justified in doing so. Yet, we are practitioners. Even if someone has wronged us, and everyone around us says that someone has wronged us, we must look at things as cultivators. Whether I owe a karmic debt, or it’s the old forces’ interference, it’s all because of an attachment I must let go of. Isn’t it a chance to raise my xinxing? Therefore, I must sincerely thank that person, because if they hadn’t created that situation, I could not improve. As another practitioner pointed out, perhaps someone has even sacrificed themselves to help me improve.
I have seen the seriousness of resentment firsthand. It is very sneaky and insidious, so I must be vigilant. I can now more easily recognize it when it appears and I should not just let it go without exposing and eliminating it.
The end of the end has arrived, and precious little time remains. Yet I have not done well enough, and so many sentient beings are still waiting to be saved.
We will be given chances to improve up until the end. Therefore, we will have tests and difficulties. Some situations are really not easy. But I think sometimes what we want to improve is the situation, rather than improve ourselves.
One way I try to keep improving is to remember to regularly ask myself, “What’s your motivation?” (Lecture Four, Zhuan Falun). It helps me see if my motives are pure, but I must dig underneath the surface. Sometimes it seems I am doing something good, like taking my mother to the grocery store, but if I look deeper, I may find the selfishness of not wanting her to bother me to take her later when I’m busy. Or when I help someone, the attachment of wanting to show off and hear nice things may be involved.
Asking what my true motives are helps uncover and eliminate what should not be there – to eliminate human thinking and selfishness, and to keep my thoughts righteous.
I have come to see just how important my thoughts are. And why wouldn’t they be? They are also of material existence. Recently, when I suddenly got a little jump in the number of people following my little Ganjing World channel, I had the thought that it shouldn’t grow too fast. It was clearly not my thought, but I didn’t eliminate it. Not only didn’t the channel grow, the next day, some people even unfollowed it. Another time, when it started to grow just a little again, I felt pleased with myself. Some people again unfollowed the channel. This shows I must remember the purpose behind what I’m doing—it is to help save sentient beings, not to validate myself. Even seemingly insignificant thoughts matter, and they should align with divine thinking.
As Master points out in his recent article, we must also help each other, whether it’s an everyday person, a fellow practitioner, or someone who isn’t truly cultivating but is among practitioners. They are all our collective responsibility, and we must do our best to handle things with righteous thoughts. Sometimes, we may think we’re helping, but that may not really be the case.
For example, thinking an elderly practitioner isn’t capable of doing this or that, or agreeing that someone should stay home if they aren’t feeling well rather than encouraging them to come to Fa study – these things may seem thoughtful or compassionate on the surface, but this is actually using human thinking. We must view things from a practitioner’s perspective and remember that such things encourage a practitioner down the wrong path. We should instead help each other see things from the perspective of the Fa when the opportunity arises and do so in a kind, compassionate, and rational way. Of course, what a being ultimately chooses is up to him, and we cannot push or insist. We can only make a suggestion. But if our own thinking is human rather than righteous, what are we contributing?
At the same time, isn’t it also a test for us? Isn’t it to see what our own thinking and response is, and if we can let go of any attachments or notions that appear? Because of the attachment to reputation and hearing nice things, I’ve sometimes remained silent even in a serious situation, because I did not want to risk upsetting someone or have them think badly of me. I now regret this, as some people have passed away.
We must also recognize right from wrong and not just follow others. Master’s recent article even warns of some who have gone far off course and brought serious harm. But whether it’s true practitioners or everyday people, we should not look down on them. In fact, those who are the most lost are the most pitiable, and in the most in danger. Things in society are now upside down. Young people have been especially impacted and really have a hard time telling right from wrong. It’s hard to imagine the difficulty in resisting all the negative factors without knowing the Fa. All kinds of things are accepted now and even praised. It can move a practitioner’s heart if we don’t remind ourselves of the big picture and why we’re here.
A recent example of this occurred when I was traveling to West Virginia and stopped for gas and something to eat. Three young men were behind the counter. One of them had a beard, was wearing heavy make-up and earrings, and had brightly colored hair. I initially had a bad thought. But I corrected myself and thought, “I have to try to help everyone I come across. Nothing is by chance.” Another young man came to take my order. I offered him a lotus flower and Dafa brochure, which he was happy to receive. The young man with the beard overheard what I was saying, and walked over to listen. I offered him a flower and brochure as well, and he was so happy—even happier than the other young man—and agreed with the principles of Dafa.
It was another reminder not to form any bad thoughts. Had I not corrected my thinking, the man may not have walked over to me, or he may have rejected what I said. He and all the sentient beings he represents could have been destroyed because of me. If practitioners in China can help save even those controlled by evil, who have treated them so horribly and cruelly, how could I not look past these small things I encounter?
The situation is truly serious. Sentient beings are counting on us not to be distracted or moved by what’s going on in the world around us. We must cultivate ourselves well and help save them. This is our sacred duty.
Several years ago, something Master said reminded me of a scene from the movie “Schindler’s List.” I pulled up the scene on YouTube called “I Didn’t Do Enough” to refresh my memory. In the scene, Schindler is making preparations for the 1,100 Jews he’d helped save. Schindler is then presented with a ring from them inscribed with the words “Whoever saves one life, saves the entire world.”
The scene continues with Schindler saying, “I could have got more. If I’d made more money…I threw away so much money. You have no idea.” The Jewish man comforts Schindler, saying he did so much, but Schindler replies, “I didn’t do enough.” He pulls a gold pin from his coat and says, “This pin…one more person is dead…for this.” He then breaks down sobbing, saying, “I could have gotten one more person, and I didn’t!” This reminds me of my attachments. Holding onto these petty things, is it worth it? Will I be like Schindler and break down sobbing in regret because my attachments kept me from saving one more person, who actually represents much more than just one person? How could I be so selfish when so much has been entrusted to me?
I will end with Master’s words from “Fa Teaching Given at the 2016 New York Fa Conference,” which always remind me of the seriousness of cultivation.
Master said,
“What’s critical is that Dafa disciples do well at what they are supposed to do. But [some of] you are not even diligent with your cultivation, don’t cultivate yourself much, or only cultivate sporadically, or halfheartedly. With your attachments driven by human thinking, you often feel indignant while working on Dafa projects for saving people, but what’s there to feel unfair about?! Do you not know what you’re here for?! Do you not know how great your responsibility is?! Do you not know that countless beings are waiting for you to save them?! That is your responsibility! That is your wish! To be able to work together on saving people is an opportunity for you, and it provides the means to save people. And yet you don’t make good use of it. If you don’t do what a Dafa disciple must do well, do you realize how great of a sin you’re committing?!” (“Fa Teaching Given at the 2016 New York Fa Conference,” Collected Fa Teachings, Vol. XIV)
When I do poorly, it impacts so many things—from the people I can see that are waiting to be saved, to my immediate environment, to the beings in my small universe and the lives I represent, to the amount of evil, to organic and seemingly inorganic things, to the matter that recycles, to the lives of the profession that I represent, and more.
Master’s arrangement is most perfect. It is up to me to follow it. Everything is interconnected, and nothing is by chance. And as we help save others, we help save ourselves, through the process of eliminating our attachments, transforming our karma, and earning mighty virtue – thus elevating our level.
I recall seeing a story in Shen Yun about a soldier who gave up worldly desires to attain the Tao. He even followed his master to jump off a cliff without hesitation, while others cowered in fear. At that moment, I had a vague recollection that I was just like that person in the past. I also recall being like the person who followed a master to jump into a gourd without hesitation.
May I not lose that kind of solid faith and determination during these end times, when I need them most.
The above is just my understanding at my current level. Please kindly point out anything that is not on the Fa.
Thank you, Master! Thank you, fellow practitioners!
(Presented at the 2023 Washington DC Fa Conference)