I was born in a very ordinary working-class family, and both my parents were from poor financial backgrounds. Fortunately, my mother grew up in a family that believed in the belief that “there is a god when you raise your head three feet high” and abided by traditional Eastern morals. This may be closely related to the ancestors of my grandmother’s family. There are two “sages” in the Li family, but I don’t know which generation was the teacher of the emperor of the Qing Dynasty. In history, it was once glorious and prosperous.
Grandma said that her ancestors were charitable and had a very upright family tradition. During the famine years, they opened warehouses to store grain, set up porridge sheds, and provided disaster relief. It was precisely because of the blessings of the ancestors that when she became the grandma, although her family fortune had plummeted, she was still able to survive. It is indeed a gratifying thing to teach our descendants according to the ancestral precept of “repaying evil with kindness and treating others with kindness”. After my grandma married my grandpa, the family tradition remained orthodox, especially for girls, such as embroidery in red, smiling frequently, sitting and standing, serving relatives and guests, even holding bowls and chopsticks, etc., all of which were strictly taught by their parents. middle. My grandmother gave birth to three boys and three girls. The mother was the eldest child and the children were raised well, so they benefited greatly.
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My mother has been kind-hearted since she was a child, honest and courteous, generous to others, and clever. She also has a special anecdote about Buddhism. In addition to the fact that she was born in a temple during the war, her grandfather invited her back from Shanghai not long after she was born. The “Twenty-four Filial Piety” picture and a portrait of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva with Thousand Arms and Thousand Eyes were enshrined. Grandpa, grandma, and grandma were surprised to find that as a baby, the mother grew more and more like the Guanyin Bodhisattva in the painting, and when she was a few months old, she became more like the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara. It became a topic of conversation after dinner, which was quite strange.
In addition to her gentle temperament, my mother also had a wide range of hobbies in poetry, calligraphy, painting, opera, etc. Because my mother only went to the second grade of junior high school and did not have much education, she was jokingly called a “talented girl”. Although it was a “joking name”, it was also It’s a kind compliment.
In 1958, the family situation became even more difficult, and the number of sisters increased to six. She was forced to drop out of school at the age of 14 and became a child laborer. Her filial and obedient mother left school and shouldered the burden of life with her parents with her young shoulders without any complaints. The decades of ups and downs and ill-fated working life that followed never dampened my mother’s desire and yearning for knowledge and the true meaning of life. She once wrote in a poem:
“…the suffering in life seems to have never ended,
The moon in the dream always wants to be round but hard to round…”
In another poem he wrote:
once
path of life
thunderbolt
once
Years of suffering
The storm surges to the top
Sunshine
When can it be brilliant?
Moonlight
When can we dissolve…
still need me
Clench your teeth
fight to the death
Take control of the rudder of life
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She cried out in pain: “Thunderstorm in the sky! Please help me break the shackles of life; O poisonous flames in the center of the earth! Please help me burn down the illusory prosperity of life…” She also wrote in a poem “Thoughts” In the prose of “Enlightenment”, he wrote: “Throughout my life, which is like a big book, no matter which page I turn, there are strong storms, and every ferry I choose in the storm also leaves behind my hard work. The struggle and helpless ups and downs, but when I reach the other shore, there is still a long blurry distance, but I still have to move forward, forward. Although it is not as good as those immortal lives, I will still devoutly walk step by step like a saint. Kneel down and move forward.” This is a glimpse of my mother’s personality of enduring humiliation, thinking about life, being optimistic and always facing the bright future.
In 1997, after decades of suffering, my mother finally ushered in the dawn of her destiny. When she first climbed to “Emei” in June of that year, she loved hearing about Buddhism. The Buddha’s teachings were like rain and dew, which nourished her thirst. In her heart for a long time, she felt as if she had found a treasure, and tears welled up in her eyes. Before she could convert, she decided to become a vegetarian at that time and has been practicing vegetarianism ever since. Now, she is a disciple of the Three Jewels who is determined to “liberate herself from life and death” in this life. I believe and I also pray that all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas of the ten directions and three times will bless my mother so that she can escape from the sea of suffering of life and death forever, that the lotus position will be named, and that her great Bodhi vow will be fulfilled.
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I started practicing Buddhism after I joined the army and benefited from my mother’s enlightenment. Not long after I started practicing Buddhism, the army laid off 500,000 people. I bid farewell to my seven-year army career, where I had been promoted to the rank of lieutenant, and transferred to another place. Although the working conditions were excellent and the wages were generous, mentally he felt more and more depressed and suffocated by life, and gradually he began to think of becoming a monk. It can be said that becoming a monk is the cause of my previous life, but it can also be said that every step of my growth has never been separated from my mother’s teachings and correct guidance. She said: “Being a monk is no small matter. You have to consider it when you are mature before making a decision. “If you draw your bow without turning back, you will die on the road of spreading the Dharma.” Thanks to the arrangement of the Buddha and Bodhisattva, I soon became acquainted with the great Zen monk Ti Guang. I was also grateful to the master for his mercy, and agreed after two interviews. As a request from my orator, in July 1999, I quit my job with a good salary. With the help of my mother, I donated most of my old clothes, packed my simple luggage, and boarded the train going south. My old mother worked hard all her life, but she had only one daughter, but she resolutely sent me to Jingju Temple in Yunjushan, Jiangxi Province as promised. On August 28, 1999, I officially became a monk. Master gave me the name Miaorong and the name Qingming.
After losing my father, we, mother and daughter, have been together for ten years. In my spare time, I love to listen to my mother tell all kinds of anecdotes about my childhood. Listening to my mother’s descriptions, strings of laughter fill the cabin from time to time. , because they are so different from most children, it really made their young mothers suffer a lot.
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People often say that “a baby after confinement is as ugly as a donkey”, but my mother said that when I was born, I was not ugly with a wrinkled head, but a plump and white face, a straight nose, and two small rosy cheeks. With my dimples in my eyes, the midwife said: “Hey! This is a beautiful girl!” But after being called a beautiful girl, there were many ridiculous and disturbing things that happened to me.
Let’s start with when I was born and cried non-stop. I cried at night for a hundred days without stopping. I cried at night and stopped during the day. My mother said that there were several times when I could cry for four hours at a stretch, especially at night. The uncles and aunts who live two or three rows in front and behind me have all suffered from my crying. Now I think I really can’t understand the kind of endurance my parents must have to survive these three months of days and nights. , but my mother is generous by nature and always says humorously: “Our soprano solo has started again.” Someone once suggested writing a yellow note and posting it, something like “The sky is yellow, the ground is yellow, there is a night cryman in my family.” “In the past, gentlemen recited it several times and slept until dawn.” Because my mother thought it was completely nonsense, she didn’t write it, and of course she didn’t post it, so I just cried along with it, which was even more reasonable. The “Soprano” played all night, whether you liked it or not, but it continued for a hundred days before it stopped. Parents and neighbors could finally enjoy the tranquility of the night. But no one has ever investigated the reason why I cried for so long, and I have never seen a doctor. Now I think that it is probably because I feel that this world is too painful and painful, so I cried with all my strength.
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Mom said that when I got a little older, I seemed to be more attractive, with a round face, round eyes, red lips, and even more pleasing to the eye, those big eyes that were as bright as glass balls. I can’t help but tease, but I can’t tease, not even my parents, let alone outsiders. Babies at this age generally laugh when they are teased, but I get annoyed at first and cry after the second tease. This makes the aunts look embarrassed and very boring. At this time, my mother cheerfully smooths things over, “Let’s talk about business when it’s business.” “It’s nothing serious. My daughter doesn’t have time to play with you.” God knows what kind of business should be talked about with this little child. The aunts laughed and dispersed, but why can’t they be funny? This seems to be a Weird mystery.
Then came the day when the centenarian portrait was taken, and I disappointed everyone even more. My mother said that the whole family crowded into the photo studio like a festival. Only the rattles were laughing and shouting loudly, the drums were ringing loudly, and even the parents were laughing and laughing as if they were helping. Most “centenary” children might be “infected” by such a cheerful atmosphere, but I just If I don’t laugh, the photographer changes to another toy, but I still don’t laugh. When he changes to another toy, I still get a strange look in my eyes and refuse to smile. His “trick” is exhausted, so I have no choice but to press the shutter button, and my face There was no smile on his face, as if my “superhuman” “concentration” had “infected” him. I swept away everyone’s interest and completely forgot about the teaching of “constantly obeying all living beings.”
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My mother said that my little face was always gloomy and I was frowning every day as if I had “a thousand worries”. In addition, I was not allowed to be teased by others, so my aunts soon gave me a rather unpleasant nickname – “Little Sinister”. , the mother said that this phenomenon lasted until about two and a half years old and then gradually changed.
Today, I have become a foreigner. When I realize this, is it the verse from the past life: “The day has passed, and my life has also been reduced, like a fish in less water, what joy can I have?”, and “mourning” myself again. The unfortunate cycle of misfortunes and the appearance of “alaya consciousness” seems to be the only reasonable explanation.
At 14 months, I entered daycare, and was further “confirmed” in the daycare class. My mother secretly observed me several times, and I sat alone in silence, looking at the group of children on the wooden floor in front of me who had just come into the world. My little friends, some are laughing, some are crying, some can crawl, some can run… This extremely noisy scene seems to be unbearable for me, and my little brows frown even tighter. . Sometimes, some children would take the initiative to come over to comfort me for my “loneliness”. I would push them away and would rather sit alone. It seemed that this was better. It seemed that I couldn’t fit into this noisy little kid at all. For this reason, the aunts concluded: “If you are a ‘little sinister’ now, you will definitely be a ‘big sinister’ when you grow up.”
However, the silent “little sinister” can occasionally help people. My mother said that once a friend’s biscuit dropped, I took the initiative to squat down and pick it up, raised my face, and raised his biscuit. It was a pity that this little guy The “understanding” was so poor that he mistook good for evil. He bent down and bit me hard on my swollen cheek. I was so aggrieved that I burst into tears. After that, I became even less willing to join other groups.
Although the “little sinister” is inexplicably poisonous, he loves small animals very much. My mother told me that when I was about 11 months old, an aunt picked up a dead bird to tease me. I stared at it. It was a motionless bird that I didn’t dare to touch for a long time. It seemed that with the greatest determination and courage, I stretched out my little hand in slow motion and gently touched the dead bird’s feathers. I immediately retracted my hand as if I was electrocuted, and what was even stranger was that I raised the hand that had touched the dead bird high above my head, raised my face to look at the “audiences” around me, and my mother said, “The pain on my face is… The expression was complex, like fear, shock, sadness, and pity. The small mouth was smacking, and the childish round face looked like it had taken a sip of sour vinegar. The eyes, nose, and mouth were wrinkled. Someone shouted: “It’s weird, it’s weird. She knows it’s dead. Throw it away. Don’t make her feel uncomfortable anymore.” Everyone laughed for a while, but I seemed to be “immersed” in “mourning” for the dead soul and couldn’t laugh. . Another time, the neighbor raised a few little rabbits and dug a hole in the ground. I could already walk, so I imitated the adults and grabbed a handful of grass and went to the hole. In a blink of an eye, the little rabbit disappeared. Who would have thought that I would lead people in even with the grass? “I came out of the rabbit hole. I love these little animals. I still love these little lives since I was a child.
My mother said that there is another “troubling” thing about me. I have been extremely energetic since I was a child. I sleep very little. I never take a lunch break at noon. Even if I get up around six o’clock when my mother works early, I still won’t sleep at noon. After nearly three hours of nap in kindergarten, I tossed and turned on the crib for nearly three hours. After the teachers “failed” to deal with me, they had no choice but to let things take their course.
When I was about 3 years old, my intelligence began to develop, and beautiful fairy tales accompanied my growth. The characters in the stories were self-sacrificing, sincere and kind-hearted, and permeated my young mind. Whenever the key to their fate was mentioned, I would I continued to ask questions even more tirelessly, and asked my mother, who had been nervous at work all day. In a daze, “the wolf pulled the dog, the dog pulled the wolf, and the wolf’s legs pulled on the dog.” Mother said: “You are so energetic. I really want to ask you to take a sleeping pill every day.”
My memory, imagination, and ability to think with images are all high, and learning is effortless at all. I will recognize the numbers I have learned on the back of a car, and the slogans on the wall will remind me of the words I have learned, and even cigarettes on the ground will remind me. Boxes and small branches falling to the ground can trigger my review. One day, I suddenly found a curved leaf stem on the ground and said, “Mom, isn’t this a ‘2’?” When my mother saw it, it really looked like it. Who knew that I then added: “Well, it looks like a ‘2’.” It looks like a bald head.” This is a “2”-shaped dry leaf stalk, which really looks like a shaved head. But for young children, the perception of circles is too much, so why do they say bald heads? It’s so round. It’s incredible. Speaking of bald head, I also have a “strange disease” that bothers my mother. It is the most difficult to comb my pigtails every morning. I struggle as if I am being tortured, twisting my head and crying. In the summer, , I cried so much that my face was full of tears, and my mother was so tired that her face was covered with sweat. It was like this every day. Who could bear it? My mother, who loves beauty, had to make the painful decision to shave her head! So, my mother said that I should be a virgin when I was about two years old. I was bald once, and again when I was about 3 years old (of course I am bald forever now). Although my hair is no longer the same as that of a boy, I don’t have to suffer “torture”, and my mother doesn’t have to worry about being tired, and we feel much at peace with each other.
Another puzzling thing is that my mother said that for some reason when I was young, I was born to beg. Sometimes in the summer, my mother hasn’t come home from work yet. When it’s time to eat, the neighbors in the dormitory building put small dining tables in the yard because of the hot weather. The dining tables of each family are not far apart. At this time, I would I brought a small bowl to the yard and stood at a small table, watching people eating in silence. The family cast their smiling eyes on me, this incomprehensible little beggar. Someone asked me: “Are you hungry?” Are you ready?” I nodded silently, and they put some vegetables into my small bowl. If there wasn’t enough food for me, I would quietly stand at another small table, and some people would make fun of me. I said, “Look, the little beggar is here again.” Everyone laughed, and that was it until I felt I had enough. This kind of thing often happened to me when I was four or five years old. It was really hard for my young mother to understand and it was incredible.
Because I am smart and studious, my ability to do things has improved a lot as I have grown older. When I was in kindergarten, when I was about 5 years old, I was often “assigned” by the teachers to do this and that. I became the little helper of the preschool teachers, and I never got tired of “running errands”. When I entered elementary school, this ability was put into better use. I had excellent grades, loved the collective, and had strong ability to do things. For 6 years in elementary school, I was rated as one of the three best students in the school every year. , there is absolutely no trace of the “little sinister child” when he was a child, but the habit of not sleeping at noon is still the nephew lighting the lantern – the same as before (uncle).
I knew how to do things and always acted as the “boss”, and my arrogance gradually grew. In order to kill my “arrogance”, one school year, my class teacher deliberately downgraded my qualifications from being rated as an outstanding young pioneer at the municipal level to the district level. To this end, she specifically approached my mother for help, and she readily agreed. Unexpectedly, the principal actually severely criticized the head teacher afterwards. Thinking about it now, I deeply feel that the head teacher has good intentions, and it is difficult to repay a teacher’s kindness, and I feel guilty. The feeling of apology, every time I think of it, feels as heavy as lead.
Recalling my childhood, my parents’ salary was
It’s still meager. The money in my pocket is basically the money my parents left me for lunch when they were very busy at work. But when my classmates are together, I only get 20 cents or 30 cents. “It got even worse when I grew up, worked, and became financially independent. I gave hundreds, hundreds, or thousands of clothes to others as long as they liked them. It seemed to intensify after I became a monk.
Thinking about my nearly 30 years of life experience, maybe I really was a “Fangwai” in the past life. I regretted the pain of reincarnation because of my single-minded obsession, so I cried a lot, didn’t like to grow my hair, and didn’t like to be noisy. He doesn’t like being teased, he begs, he sympathizes with death, he cares for small animals, he gives alms, he doesn’t take things outside him seriously. After all kinds of speculations, maybe this is the correct answer.
Many people asked me the same question: “Why do you want to become a monk?” They couldn’t figure it out and spent a lot of time thinking, so they could only attribute it to “frustrated in love”, “failed in career”, “abandoned by life”, “mentally stimulated” and so on. My former friends even went to war, scolding me for my self-destruction, and came back with eloquent and long speeches to persuade me. The world’s misunderstanding of the life of morning bells and evening drums is too deep, and it is limited to “the companionship of the ancient Buddha with green lanterns”. They think that my choice is irrational, abnormal, and crazy.
What is normal? What is abnormal?
Before I became a monk, I lived a colorful life like everyone else.
He grew up with his mother’s fairy tales when he was young. The greatest pleasure in elementary school, junior high school, and high school is reading and collecting books. My bookcase is filled with world famous books. I like to excerpt quotes from famous people in books to understand the true meaning of truth, goodness and beauty. I take the aphorisms of ancient sages and sages as my motto for progress, and encourage myself to “keep making further progress”.
When I was in junior high school, I loved “Mystery” and “UFO Exploration”, and my mind was filled with puzzling questions – “Are there aliens on other planets?”, “How high is the sky?”, “Where will I be after I die?” Where to go?”…
When he graduated from junior high school, a good friend of mine committed suicide by drinking pesticide because he had trouble getting into higher education. In the photo, her young and tender face with bright eyes seemed to want to laugh and chat with me. Tears welled up in my eyes, life is so fragile and unpredictable. Life is just between breaths. Living is not for pain, how can we live without pain! I saw the classmates around me moaning in pain in order to compete for admission to higher schools; the streets were busy with traffic, people coming and going, hurriedly, one after another. The tired and nervous faces are full of irritability and hypocrisy; young boys and girls join the fanatical groupies and dress up in fancy clothes to impress. I’m thinking: Behind the hustle and bustle, disorder, and fierce competition in the world, are there many lonely souls desolately calling for the comfort of true love? “What are you living for?” “Study hard, work hard, and strive for life-long pursuits.” What is life?” “Can money bring real happiness?” “How long can the vowed love last?” I was lonely and dejected, and my heart cried out sadly: “How should I live? In the dark Is there any spiritual response?”
This world-weary feeling was quickly covered up by the competition to get into college, but it turned into a stronger torrent deep in my heart. I want to change my decadent attitude towards life with the fresh and militarized management of the “green military camp”. Unfortunately, “good times don’t last forever”. After becoming a female officer, I gradually became tired of this kind of walking dead, tired of living in a hypocritical and boring network of interpersonal relationships, tired of endless repetition… go to work to make money and support my family. Life, pursuit of pleasure and entertainment, remain unchanged day after day, year after year, yesterday is equal to today, and today is equal to tomorrow, there is no difference. I sadly feel that I am helplessly walking toward death step by step…
Lu Xun once said: “Dissatisfaction is an upward wheel.” But money, reputation, status, things that ordinary people think are worthy of lifelong struggle and endless struggle, are meaningless in my opinion. I have lost my possessiveness and passion for them. , then what should I pursue in life? I am like a sad vagabond, praying and looking around miserably, looking back at the vastness, with sad eyes…
I tried to spend more, wore high-end fashions, used high-end cosmetics, dressed myself up beautifully, and immersed myself in feasting, wine, and coffee. But what is even worse is that he finds himself like a pathetic clown playing a role that does not belong to him.
After that, I placed my love on mountains and rivers and regarded nature as a good medicine to cure the “abnormality” of my soul. I am obsessed with the life in the paradise in “The Peach Blossom Spring”, and I am obsessed with living the hermit life of “picking chrysanthemums under the eastern fence, leisurely seeing the Nanshan Mountain”, the kind of life with mountains as companions, pine trees as companions, clear clouds and clear winds, and magical atmosphere. A calm and leisurely life fascinates me.
On the mountain, I came into contact with monasteries and monks, and stepped into the solemn ashram. My restless heart became much calmer and more relaxed. Looking at the monks who were wearing monk’s robes, who were as free and easy as the immortals from this world, I couldn’t help but feel envious and respectful, and secretly thought: When will I be able to wear these “immortal robes”?
By coincidence, my parents converted to Buddhism and became lay Buddhists, which led me to the path of learning Buddhism. I am very grateful to my mother for making a major turning point in my life. My mother patiently explained and I read some introductory books on Buddhism. I feel When I wake up from a big dream, I feel the joy of being reborn, and the answers to the confusing questions in the past are found in the Buddhist scriptures. I was excited by the peace and joy I had never felt before.
Although I am a doctor, I can only solve the patient’s temporary suffering, but I cannot get rid of the suffering of death. I am helpless in dealing with major issues of life and death and fundamental problems. Buddha is the omnipotent great medical king and the most brilliant doctor in the world. He can cure and prescribe any disease. I want to learn Buddhism! I want to be a Buddha! I can’t restrain this impulse, let alone my incomparable gratitude and total respect for the Buddha.
I knew that I had committed many sins for countless kalpas, so I worked hard to give alms after becoming a layman. I spent all my money on making offerings to Buddha statues, printing scriptures, releasing animals, and donating to temples. I even borrowed money to do it. Now that I think back to that time, I was obsessed with giving. Can’t help but smile. I thought I had found the most precious treasure in the world, so I gave away all the world famous books, stamps, and celebrity calligraphy and paintings that I had accumulated in the past.
I am moved by the great kindness and compassion of all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, and my vows are profound. The biographies of great virtuous monks throughout the ages made me burst into tears. Master Xu Gong, Master Xuan Hua, Master Yin Guang, Old Monk Guang Qin… these eminent monks with great wisdom, courage, compassion, great wishes and great deeds, carry out their worldly affairs with a worldly mind. Endure humiliation and bear heavy burdens, be willing to be powerful, carry forward the righteous Dharma, and benefit all sentient beings. All of them are Bodhisattva incarnations, and they will come again with their wishes. Touched, excited, impulsive, respected, admired, worshiped, all washed over my body.
Some people in the world regard monks as cheating beggars; some regard them as parasites who avoid social responsibilities and hide in monasteries to live in comfort; some regard them as witches and men who pretend to be gods; and some even regard monks as characters in martial arts novels. A hero with unparalleled skills… Every time at this moment, my heart aches, unspeakably painful. This pain accelerated my pace of becoming a monk. The Buddhist sect responds to all requests, maybe it is God’s arrangement. Soon, I met the 80-year-old old mentor who had shaved his head. Master became a monk since childhood and practiced asceticism all his life. When he was young, he practiced in the mountains and ate grass. In spring, summer, autumn and winter, there is only one patchwork patchwork garment. Eat one meal a day and be content with whatever comes your way. He does not seek fame or fortune, but is willing to be indifferent. His spirit of “not seeking happiness for himself, but hoping that all living beings can be freed from suffering” is deeply praised by the Master Xu Gong. Master has nothing to ask for in his life, so I decided to use my own blood to copy sutras and offer them to Master and his family as a token of my disciple’s determination to become a monk. I am grateful to Master for not considering the seriousness of my sins, for accepting me compassionately, and for being my mother who understands righteousness and righteousness. She personally sent me to have my head shaved by Master. My mother smiled and said: “When you were a child, you didn’t like growing your hair and often shaved your head. This time you are bald forever!” I knew what my mother meant: She wanted me to follow this path resolutely to the end and never look back…
Master once asked me if I was afraid of hardship, and I said: “Not afraid.” Because the past seven years of military life have tempered my strong and fearless will. (one of the projects), I couldn’t help but feel timid. Girls in the city have never carried water or used a carrying pole, let alone excrement! It’s dirty and smelly, and it’s so disgusting to splash on the body! After thinking about it, I feel that the Bodhisattva specifically uses this to break my attachment to the body. . I remembered that when I worked in the burn department of a hospital, every day I would receive burnt patients who were horrific and disfigured beyond recognition. Some of them used to be graceful and beautiful, and some used to be tall and handsome, but in the blink of an eye, they would be killed by the fire, and even burned to the point where it was difficult to distinguish between human and ghost, and they were unable to see anyone. How could I cherish my body so much when it was so impermanent? I regarded myself as a living dead whose body had been burned, happily picked up the excrement and moved forward… Soon, I got used to chopping, burning, and cooking. , plowing, planting, carrying water, carrying manure, etc. out of the slope – this kind of labor no longer exists in the city. I realize that labor is also a kind of “beautiful” Zen. It breaks your persistence, tempers your will, reduces your delusions, and increases your blessings. I can’t help but shed tears of gratitude to all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas.
I deeply feel that my sins are deep, my mind is blocked, and my wisdom is shallow. I feel extremely ashamed when I recall that Master asked me to develop great bodhicitta, take precepts as my teacher, and take suffering as my teacher. By chance, I came to the snow-covered plateau and was shocked by the faith of their entire nation: countless people, ranging from elderly people in their 70s and 80s to children as young as three or four years old, bowed three times a step and bowed to the ground in piety. During pilgrimage, sudden changes in weather, vast snow-capped mountains, lack of water and food, and sleeping in the open air cannot stop the pilgrimage. Hold a handful of snow water when you are thirsty, add a mouthful of tsampa when you are hungry, and have a sincere and respectful heart in exchange for holy happiness. How can it be understood by ordinary people’s hearts that practicing hard is not bitter, and there is bliss in the midst of extreme suffering!
Returning to the mainland, I was filled with emotions. Compared with the snow-covered plateau, we practitioners in the mainland can’t talk about practicing practice. They are simply enjoying themselves. Behind the high level of material development is often the decline of spiritual civilization and morality. Laziness, laissez-faire, not striving for advancement, greed for enjoyment, and jealousy are obstacles. They use a monk’s robe as a protective umbrella, allowing greed, jealousy, ignorance, pride, and doubt to spread unchecked.
I deeply feel that I am a seed of hell, with no cultivation, many bad habits, relying on Buddha to dress myself, with no retribution, and I feel ashamed to be a Buddhist disciple. In the past eons, the Bodhisattva “peeled his skin into paper, broke his bones into pens, and used blood as ink.” His beautiful appearance had no blessings, let alone wisdom. He only had a meager heart and boldly made a vow to use my blood to copy Buddhist scriptures. May the merits of my copying of the Blood Sutra be dedicated to all sentient beings in the Dharma Realm. May all living beings in the Dharma Realm realize Bodhi and achieve Buddhahood. May the universe be peaceful and all living beings happy.
I cannot cut my tongue and write ink like Master Zhicheng. “Ten fingers are connected to the heart”, I would like to prick my fingers and turn them into ink to copy the Huayan Sutra. So far, the blood sutras I have completed include “Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva’s Original Vow Sutra”, “Buddha’s Sutra of Infinite Life”, “Vajra Prajna Paramita Sutra”, “Buddha’s Sutra of Amitabha”, “Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva’s Universal Door”, “Samantabhadra Sutra” “Principles of Practical Vows”, and the “Huayan Sutra” and “Lotus Sutra” have not yet been completed. What I want in life, becoming a monk is my inevitable choice. I have no regrets and no regrets, and I am determined to do so.
Prosperity, wealth, fame, family, friendship, and love are just passing clouds and dreams. The world of Saha is all miserable and joyless. It is the hotel where we stay. “We are strangers in a foreign land, and we miss our loved ones even more during the holidays.” We are all Have the Buddhist sons wandering in the Saha world ever heard the call and earnest expectation of Amitabha’s loving father? The Paradise is our true home. Those who are wandering outside, when you are tired, tired, and sleepy , don’t forget to go home early…
Confession, beautiful face and palms together
