Table of Contents
Enlightenment, One Step at a Time
Teachings of Master Man Sang: Sutra of the Eight
Realizations of Great Beings
Buddhism in China: The Young Xuanzang
Story from the Sutras: Rebirth Is Suffering
Dharma Transmitter: Father’s Intentions
Pilgrimage to India: The Taj
Mahal – and Homecoming
Cornucopia: Xuanzang’s
White Horse
Changing With Circumstances:
When Blessings Backfire
Reader’s Corner: Lessons From
Bodhisattvas
Enlightenment, One Step at a Time
By
Ven. Yin Chi
Guanyin (Avalokitesvara)
is one of Buddhism’s major Bodhisattvas who is well-known to the public.
Buddhists and non-believers alike are likely to be familiar with the name or
image of Guanyin. The old saying is apt: “Every
family knows Guanyin, each household is familiar with
Amitabha [Buddha].”
The question is posed in the
“Chapter on Bodhisattva Guanyin’s Universal Gateway”
of the Lotus Sutra: “Why is
Bodhisattva Guanyin named ‘Guanyin’
[Hearer of the World’s Sounds]?” The Buddha replies, “If countless sentient beings,
suffering various afflictions, hear the name Bodhisattva Guanyin
and single-mindedly recite his name, Bodhisattva Guanyin
will immediately hear their pleas and their suffering will be relieved … It is
for this reason that she is named Guanyin.” The name
stems from the Bodhisattva’s “perceiving the sounds of the world, seeking out
cries of distress and saving beings from suffering.”
This great vow of compassion has
forged a specially deep karmic bond between Guanyin
and sentient beings. Our world today is full of disasters and misfortunes, and
life runs counter to our wishes most of the time. Bodhisattva Guanyin is thus an anchor of compassion for suffering
beings. Since ancient times, many stories have circulated about pleas being
answered everywhere as well as inspired happenings. Indeed, people have long
savored the records of such cases.
Recently there was a Dharma learner
who wanted to undertake the precepts. She heard that many people were unable to
go through with the precept-taking ceremony because of the ripening of karmic
obstructions. So I advised her to practice earnestly before undergoing the
ceremony. Having completed it successfully, she told me that she had indeed
faced an obstacle during her preparations. She was coughing day and night,
especially when encountering monastics; the Dharma hall resounded with her
coughs. She was very worried about disturbing the assembly, and that her karmic
obstructions were too great. All she could so was rely on the Buddhas and
Bodhisattvas.
So she began silently, continually
to recite the Great Compassion Mantra
of Bodhisattva Guanyin. She did so day and night,
awake and even in her sleep. One night, as she tossed and turned, trying to
sleep while coughing, she seemed to hear herself reciting the mantra. Suddenly,
in a blur, she saw a green light coming out of her mouth. The next day her
irksome cough disappeared without any medication. Everything went smoothly
after that and she was able to focus her mind. This is just the latest example
of the “imponderable power of the Great
Compassion Mantra.”
Many inspired events are associated
with Bodhisattva Guanyin. We accept that such
happenings exist. However, Dharma learners should not remain at the level of
merely seeking such occurrences. It is more important for us to emulate the
Bodhisattva’s compassion. Compassion gives joy and removes suffering.
It may seem hard to learn and
practice a Bodhisattva’s compassion, but we can start by caring about the
people and things around us, and strengthening the loving-kindness in our
hearts. We should learn to empathize with others and to show concern for them.
We should be happy to help them, and to bring them joy and hope by providing
assistance relating to material goods, Dharma explication and spiritual comfort.
Seeing others in difficulty, we ought to lend a helping hand. We should do our
work honestly, thereby serving people around us and making a contribution to
society. By doing this we would be a veritable living Bodhisattva.
This year Guanyin’s
Birthday falls on September 19 of the Lunar calendar. It is a day with special
meaning. The Hong Kong Buddhist Association organized a “Festival of
Compassionate Vows and Deeds on Guanyin’s Birthday”
in Victoria Park. The aim of the carnival-style event was to attract more
participants through relaxed and varied activities, allowing them to form
karmic bonds with the Dharma. It also sought to introduce to the public the
spirit of Guanyin, so attendees could learn about the
Bodhisattva’s vows and actions. Participants were encouraged to make wishes;
they also made pledges before the Bodhisattva about what good deeds they would
perform in the year ahead.
The goal is to remind us not just to
remember Guanyin by reciting scriptures or performing
reverences, but also by trying to realize the Bodhisattva’s spirit and
practices through our everyday actions. We are invited to approach what we do
from a positive, proactive and well-intentioned perspective. We should be
guided by the principles of positive thinking, pleasant speech and wholesome
action. We should strive to make a habit of doing good and accumulating merit.
By attuning our minds and energy to the Buddha and walking the path to
enlightenment one step at a time, we travel together on
the road to Buddhahood.
Sutra of the Eight Realizations of Great Beings
THE
SEVENTH REALIZATION: To be aware that the five
desires lead to nothing but trouble. Though ordinary people, we do not immerse ourselves
in the pleasures of the world. Always on our minds are a monk’s garments, a
clay bowl and ritual instruments. We set our minds on leaving the householder’s
life and following the Dharma. We live a clean, pure and dignified life, and
are compassionate to all.
The five
desires are form, sound, smell, taste and touch – as well as wealth, sex, fame,
food and sleep. People are fond of pursuing these five desires. However,
excessive hankering after them leads to suffering and even degeneracy.
Let me start
with a few stories about how obsession with the five desires have led to untold
trouble!
Desire for form: According to the
Buddhist scriptures, Sakra, ruler of the celestial
realms of desire, was able to ascended to the heavens and enjoy their delights
because of the merit he had accumulated from practicing the Ten Good Actions.
Because he liked listening to the Buddha teach the Dharma, Sakra
often tarried at the latter’s vihara.
One day, realizing she hadn’t seen him in
a while, Sakra’s wife went looking everywhere
for her husband. When a celestial being saw the beautiful queen pass by, an
unwholesome thought formed in his mind. Because of this lustful thought, he
lost his special powers – an alarming consequence of the desire for form.
Desire for sound: What could go wrong
from a desire for sound? In Hong Kong, for example, we hear sounds everywhere.
Even when taking a bus, we are subjected to the sounds of singing and musical
instruments. How can we avoid sounds? So long as we do not pursue them, yearn
after them or let them pollute our minds, we will not be troubled by sounds.
There is a
story about a practitioner in the snow-covered mountains of India who attained
a certain level of meditative concentration. One day, a female immortal was
bathing and singing by the river. Mesmerized by the beauty of her voice, the
practitioner abruptly lost his focus. Closer to our own experience, there are
those who would skip classes or Dharma lessons to attend a concert by a
favorite pop star. These are examples of negative consequences from
over-absorption in sounds.
Desire for smell: There was once an
Arhat who had attained special powers; he often went to the Dragon’s Palace to
receive offerings. Once, a sramenera followed him into the palace. The novice monk
noticed that the girl immortals were lovely and the food they carried filled
the air with enticing odors. Since his practice was not yet strong, greed arose
in his heart. A thought flashed in his mind: He no longer wanted to continue
his practice, but to stay in the palace and enjoy its pleasures. So he turned
into a dragon. Many might berate him as foolish. Yet, unable to resist the
food’s tempting aromas, he would rather lose his human form and become a beast.
We can only lament that this case of trouble resulting from the desire for
smells.
Desire for taste: There was a sramenera who was deeply attached to certain tastes,
especially that of cheese. His craving continued even when he died. Upon seeing
a worm on a piece of cheese, his teacher sighed. For the master had special
powers and saw that because of the novice monk’s yearning for his favorite
food, he had been reborn as a worm attached to the cheese. Such are the perils
of a desire for taste!
Desire for touch: Touch is the result of
contact. When our bodies come into contact with external objects, we feel cold,
heat, pain, itchiness, coarseness, delicacy. People enjoy things that feel
comfortable. When it is hot, for example, we like air-conditioning, and when it
is cold we enjoy our heating. Our clothing should be smooth and soft. Such
contacts give rise to positive feelings.
There was an
immortal who had attained five kinds of special powers. He was greatly
respected by the king, who personally made offerings to him. Once, the ruler had
to leave to attend to matters of state and asked his daughter to receive the
immortal. When the immortal arrived through the air, the princess hurried to
support him with both hands. She was extraordinarily beautiful, and her hands
were smooth and soft. When he came into contact with them, the immortal could
not prevent unclean notions from arising in his mind. At that instance, he lost
his special powers and tumbled to the ground – an example of trouble resulting
from the desire for touch.
If we cannot stand our ground and succumb to the five desires of form, sound, smell, taste and touch, the consequences can be disastrous.
The Young Xuanzang
By
Ven. Yin Chi
In the early Tang Dynasty, there
lived a Dharma master so famous in the history of Chinese Buddhism that
virtually everyone has heard of him – Master Xuanzang.
Defying death and overcoming countless tribulations, he crossed the Gobi desert
and the Himalayan mountains to seek Dharma knowledge in India. Then he returned
to China with a huge collection of Buddhist scriptures.
His
remarkable exploits were not only widely admired, they were also dramatized in
the classic novel Journey to the West.
The story remains well known today, and has been the subject of many movies.
Besides his great contributions to the development of Buddhism, Xuanzang’s records have been valuable for the study of
transport conditions and cultural exchange of the time.
Master Xuanzang was born with the surname of Chen. He was said to
have been intelligent even as a boy. Born into a scholarly, Buddhist family, he
saw his elder brother take monastic vows at Jingye
Monastery in Changan. He read Buddhist scriptures and
greatly admired monastic life. As a young man, he heard that the emperor was
issuing permits for laymen to become monks. (The government-issued permits of
ancient times were different from today’s “precepts permits.” In those days,
people needed government sanction to become monks. There were quotas to the
permits, and aspirants had to pass an examination.)
As it
happened, the examination ground was located inside Jingye
Monastery. But Xuanzang was too young to qualify for
the test. He could only pace back and forth outside the hall and sigh. The
chief examiner saw the youth doing so and thought it strange. “Do you want to
become a monk?” asked the examiner. He had no serious intention, but the young
man did. With great earnestness, Xuanxang replied, “I
really want to be a monk.” Upon further questioning, the examiner realized that
Xuanzang was under age. He said, “You must take an
exam to join the monkhood! Are you able to take the test?” Excited, Xuanzang replied, “Yes.”
The examiner
then asked him why he wished to be a monk. “To achieve Buddhahood in the long term,
and to honor and promote the Dharma in the short term,” responded the young
man. His answer struck the examiner forcefully. He gave Xuanzang
permission the take the examination, saying, “If your results are outstanding,
you will be allowed to take vows. But if they are only average, you’d better go
home.”
The exam
subject was apparently the Diamond Sutra.
Xuanzang happened to have been reading the sutra
reverentially every day, so he knew it well. He also had specific insights into
it. As a result, his performed with distinction.
It was under
such circumstances that Master Xuanzang became a
monk. After taking his vows, he joined his brother in the monastery; they read
and studied the scriptures together.
The young Xuanzang was accomplished in his study of worldly as well as extra-worldly subjects. He especially liked to learn the writings of Master Paramartha (499-569) of the Chen Dynasty. Xuanzang delved into the texts of the Yogacara tradition, especially the Abhidharmakosa Bhasya. These were later incorporated into the Mahayana heritage, and formed the basis for one of the eight schools of Chinese Buddhism.
Rebirth
Is Suffering
In Jetavana
Vihara, Sravasti, the Buddha was about to speak on the Dharma to the four
assemblies of the human and celestial realms. There was a wealthy man in the
city who, after an extensive search, had found a wise and kind-hearted woman to
marry. The man arranged a lavish wedding, welcoming the bride into his home with
much fanfare and a garlanded carriage.
His wife had
a ten-month pregnancy, then gave birth without mishap to an agreeable boy.
Remarkably, the baby could remember his previous lives. Without anyone teaching
him, he said, “The cycle of rebirth is full of suffering.” His parents loved
him very much and named him “Rebirth Is Suffering.”
Rebirth Is
Suffering was a filial child. He had a gentle nature and never quarreled with
anyone. He often smiled as he spoke, and never let a malicious or foul word
escape his mouth. As he grew up, he would still say to everyone he met, “The
cycle of rebirth is truly full of suffering!” And he urged people to do good
and avoid evil.
One day,
Rebirth Is Suffering went with relatives and friends on a trip outside the
city. They arrived at the place where the Buddha was teaching and, without
being conscious of it, he went inside. Rebirth Is Suffering was delighted to
see that the Buddha had such physical characteristics as a moon-shaped face,
lotus-like eyes and a body that emitted light. Respectfully he made a full
prostration and sat down to listen to the discourse.
Seeing this,
the Buddha taught him the basics of the Dharma: suffering, the causes of
suffering, the elimination of suffering and the Noble Eightfold Path. Rebirth
Is Suffering understood immediately and attained the first stage of the path to
enlightenment, becoming a Stream Enterer.
Convinced he
had found the way out of the cycle of rebirth, he returned home and asked his
parents on bended knee for permission to follow the Buddha and take monastic
vows. His parents, who loved him deeply, agreed.
After
becoming a monk, Rebirth Is Suffering lived up to his name. His fear of
remaining within the cycle of rebirth spurred him to practice diligently. He
soon eliminated all his afflictions and attained Arhathood.
Not only was he able to see the karma behind his past and future lives, he
achieved the Three Insights, Six Special Powers and Eight Liberations. He was
respected by beings in both human and celestial realms.
The bhikkus
asked the Buddha about this matter. The Buddha replied, “In the present kalpa, when the average human lifespan was
20,000 years, a Buddha named Kasyapa appeared in the
kingdom of Polonnai. A certain sramenera was practicing under a
senior monk. One day, as a large assembly convened in the city, the novice went
outside for a look. ‘Master, lots of people are milling about outside,’ he
reported when he returned. ‘Let’s go early today on our alms round. Our bowls
will certainly be filled!’ His teacher replied, ‘It’s still early. Let’s
meditate first.’
“The exchange was repeated another
couple of times; the master still did not allow his ward to start his alms
round early. The volatile young monk grew angry. ‘You are so stubborn,’ he
blurted. ‘Better that you die early!’ Without even turning around, he went
alone into town to solicit for food. Along the way, however, the sramenera thought about the karmic consequences of his
malicious words and became afraid. He hurried back to the monastery and,
crawling, apologized to his master.
“For humiliating his teacher with
spiteful words, he was reborn for 500 lifetimes in the hell realm, there to
undergo untold suffering. He was freed only this lifetime. Because of the merit
from encountering a Buddha and entering the monkhood, he was now able to recall
his previous lives, become a monk under my tutelage and attain enlightenment.”
The Buddha concluded, “That
foul-mouthed sramenera is none other than today’s Bikkhu Rebirth Is Suffering!”
Father’s Intentions
‘I
Can’t Take You Across Forever’
Knowing
smiles would appear whenever we brothers and sisters discuss a certain subject.
Most parents hold on to their children tightly when faced with a dangerous
situation. But Father was different. When we were young, he would take us to
cross the road. At a set of particularly busy traffic lights, he suddenly let go
of us and went across the road by himself. We are scared indeed the first time
this happened!
Father
never turned around to look at us. So we had to cross carefully by ourselves
and try to catch up with him. The experience left a deep impression on us. Father
never explained anything at the time. Only much later did he say, “I cannot
keep leading you across forever. You need to be able to cross every road by
yourselves!”
Yes, life’s course is bumpy indeed.
Father has already crossed his busy traffic junction and passed away. We are
left on our own, and we must do our own crossings cautiously. And we must do so
properly, even without any guiding hand. We need to raise our level of
wakefulness and hold on to the hand of Amitabha Buddha!
Blood Ties Shouldn’t Constrict
Father was very carefree. He always
used to say, “I take care of myself, so I needn’t bother you. You must take
care of yourselves too, so that you won’t trouble me. Blood ties should not
create mutual constrictions!”
On the surface, such words may seem
heartless. Actually they are supportive and are wisely affectionate. Nor are do
they pose any obstacles. After a while, one grows to value such unimposing
affection and is grateful for it. Apparently callous, Father’s advice was in
reality deeply compassionate and helpful. It represents a profound love.
‘What Are You, Anyway?’
It might seem that Father was
opposed to people learning the Dharma. Actually he was the person who prompted
me to do so. He didn’t encourage me directly, however, but made use of negative
examples. Because he was so busy with his work, he spent very little time with
us. We were only able to talk a bit during dinner.
Once when I was sharing a meal with
him, he pointed to my hand holding the bowl and asked, “Is that hand yours? If
we cut off your left hand, would you still be you?” I was taken aback by his question.
Never having contemplated a severing of my left hand, I did not know whether to
nod or shake my head.
“If we cut off your right hand,
would you still be you?” Father continued. “And what if we also removed your
legs?” He looked serious, and I was at a loss to respond. He pressed on, “How
much do we have to cut off before you are no longer you? What are you, anyway?”
Having asked his questions, Father stood
up and went off to see his patients. His queries arose in my mind every day; I had
no answers. Only later, when I read Buddhist sutras, did I realize that these
were issues explored in the Dharma.
Every day we refer repeatedly to
“I”; our actions and struggles are all on behalf of “me.” What, in fact, is
this “I”? We don’t know. As we grow, our bodies and thoughts change all the
time … Which of these constitute “me”? After
death and cremation, where am “I”?
For the sake of this mysterious notion
of self, we are reborn again and again, undergo much suffering and create lots
of negative karma. Thanks to Father’s questions, I was induced to free myself
gradually from this constricting idea of self and walk the path of Buddhist liberation.
— Excerpted from Master Tao Cheng’s The
Caterpillar Becomes a Butterfly
The Taj Mahal
– and Homecoming
(Day 11, Nov. 1, 2008)
By Ven. Yin Chi
After
breakfast, we headed for what is billed one of the Seven Wonders of the world –
the Taj Mahal. The tale behind
the magnificent mausoleum is familiar to every Indian family. It is an epic
love story, full of tragic beauty. It highlights the attachment, helplessness
and impermanence of human love.
Built in the
17th century, the Taj Mahal
has a history of more than 300 years. It is located on the southern bank of the
Yamuna River in Agra. The sparkling monument was constructed in a distinctively
Islamic style. On its four sides are red sandstone walls, with the white-marble
mausoleum standing in the center. A pool, resembling a jade belt, lies in front
of the structure; the water is limpid, sending forth ripples. The pool is
surrounded by green trees and fresh flowers. The entire monument is striking as
well as elegant.
It was built
by the fifth Mughal emperor, Shah Jahan,
for his beloved wife Mumtaz Mahal.
Mumtaz was said to have been not only beautiful, but
also intelligent and capable. Concerned about state affairs, she often helped
the emperor deal with them. Thus did she gain the favor of Shah Jahan. Once, when the emperor led a military expedition,
she accompanied him. Unfortunately, she died while giving birth during the
campaign. She was only 36 years old. Before her death, she expressed the hope
that her husband would build a mausoleum to commemorate their undying love.
The emperor
returned home and assembled the finest marble and best craftsmen from around
his domain for the task. He mobilized more than 20,000 men and spent over 5
million rupees. The peerless mausoleum took 16 years to complete. After it was
finished, Shah Jahan reportedly went there often,
dressed in white, to offer flowers. He would gaze pensively at the monument,
and tears would well up in his eyes.
The monarch
originally intended to build an identical, black mausoleum for himself on the
opposite bank of the river. He wanted to connect the two structures with a
black-and-white bridge of marble, to symbolize the unbreakable bond between the
couple. But shortly after completion of the Taj Mahal, his son killed his brothers and usurped the throne.
The new ruler imprisoned his father in Agra Fort, not far from the Taj. For the next eight years, Shah Jahan
could only peer sorrowfully through a small window at the reflection of the
mausoleum on the river. He spent the remainder of his days in lonely
reminiscence, dying depressed. His desire to build a tomb joined to his wife’s
came to naught.
The love
story behind the Taj Mahal
is moving indeed. It also makes us aware of the changing nature and
impermanence of worldly affairs. The emperor spent a vast amount of money and
manpower to build a mausoleum for his beloved wife; his aim was to extend his
undying love. But not only did he fail to achieve his objective, the effort
caused him to die a sad and disoriented man.
Our
misfortunes are rooted in desire and an unwillingness to let go. If the monarch
had been able to transform his love for his wife into a compassion for all
beings and spend the treasure and manpower he lavished on the Taj on projects to benefit his people, he would have been
able to extend his wife’s life in the form of love for his own subjects. That
would have been more valuable and meaningful. Moreover, with popular affection
and support, the emperor’s own fate as well as the history of the nation might
have turned out differently.
As Agra was
more than 200 kilometers from New Delhi airport, we wanted to avoid traffic
jams along the way. That meant we had to hurry back to our coach after a quick
tour of the Taj Mahal and
head for the airport. It was already dusk when we arrived in New Delhi. Our
guide brought us to the final sightseeing spot on our trip – Delhi’s renowned
India Gate, a must-see for visitors. But time limitations meant we could only
take a few souvenir pictures at the monument, then get back on the coach.
We made for a fast-food-style restaurant downtown, though it was actually a specialty eatery with elegant furnishings. To leave us with fond memories of his culinary abilities, our chef used the restaurant’s facilities to demonstrate his full range of skills. He served an array Chinese and Western dishes for our final meal, before we boarded our flight. As we ate, he and our guide warmly bid us farewell. Afterwards, with some reluctance and much gratitude for having been able to travel in the Buddha’s footsteps, we ended our pilgrimage to India and set out for home.
Xuanzang’s White Horse
The horse
that carried the Tang Dynasty monk, Xuanzang, on his
journey to India to bring home Buddhist scriptures was an ordinary white horse
from a mill in the city of Changan. There was nothing
special about the animal, except that it had worked at the mill all its life.
It was strong and healthy, capable of bearing hardship and never caused
trouble.
Master
Xuanzang thought to himself: The road to the west is
long; the animal has to carry me there, and then bear the burden of bringing
back the scriptures. Moreover, I am not a skillful rider, so it would be best
to have a loyal and dependable mount. In the end, he chose the horse in the
mill.
Xuanzang’s odyssey lasted 17 years. When he returned to
Tang China, he was already a legendary hero. His mount, regarded as his
collaborator in bringing back the scriptures, was hailed as the “First Horse of
the Tang Dynasty.”
Heaped
with honors, Xuanzang returned with his horse to the
mill to see old friends. Numerous donkeys and elderly horses gathered around
the white horse to hear it speak about what it had seen on the journey to India
and the accolades it received. The animals were full of admiration.
The
white horse said in even tones, “Friends, I have done nothing special. I was
lucky to have been picked by Master Xuanzang. One
step at a time, I went west and then returned east. Nor have you been idle
these 17 years. It’s just that you went about your work at home. Whenever I
took a step, so did you. We covered the same amount of ground and experienced
similar hardship.”
The
assembled donkeys and horses were silent. That’s right, they thought, we hadn’t
been idle. How come the white horse became so famous, while we all stayed the
same? This is food for thought.
If
we walk inside a room in circles, we can cover hundreds of kilometers. Yet
however long we do this, we will not be able to get out of the room. But if we
know where the door is, then we can very quickly find our way outside.
All
our lives, we go around in circles … one after another. We are like the donkeys
and horses, keeping busy every day. It’s not that we haven’t been diligent,
only that we don’t know the goal of
our diligence. All life long, we bear hardship, yet we aren’t aware of what we
might have gained from our experience of difficulties. People, it seems, are
unable to break out of that circle.
The
Russian writer Dostoevsky once said, “I fear only one thing – that I don’t know
why I’m suffering.” He is right. When we suffer hardship, we usually lack
insight into feelings beyond the immediate difficulty.
We
mustn’t let our suffering go to waste. Otherwise, the circle of rebirth is sure
to come around. “To live is to suffer,” a noted psychologist once wrote. “And
the purpose of suffering is to find the meaning behind it.”
Suffering
accompanies the process of growth and development. But the more we stay the
course of this inner transformation, the more we discover its inherent joy,
peace and wisdom. We leave suffering behind for happiness.
The
greatest hardship in life is personal growth – which is also life’s greatest
joy. If only we can find the meaning behind it.
-
From the
internet
By Ven. Yin Chi
QUESTION: A longtime vegetarian, I have suffered waist
pains in recent years. I consulted many doctors, including Chinese and Western
ones, specialists and physiotherapists. I even tried acupuncture, but nothing
has helped. On TV and in pharmacies, I have seen ads for products claiming to
treat waist problems. However, they contain non-vegetarian ingredients, such as
collagen and deep-water fish. As a vegetarian, should I try them? I find this
decision psychologically difficult.
ANSWER: As they age, both vegetarians
and meat-eaters will experience various physical problems. This is normal. The
issue is closely linked with age, physical condition and lifestyle, rather than
whether one eats meat or not. The products you mentioned, purporting to relieve
waist pain, should be considered health products.
Since you
learned about them from advertising on TV or in pharmacies, you should know
that ads often exaggerate. If the products really are that effective, shouldn’t
lots of people have been cured? In fact, there isn’t yet conclusive medical
evidence that collagen products or various nutrients can effectively form
collagen in our bodies. Since you have maintained your vegetarian regime all
these years, you should think very carefully about whether or not to consume
such products.
To improve
our health, we must start with the basics. We need to reflect on our lifestyle
and habits, as well as exercise and eat appropriately. When necessary, we can
seek medical treatment. Only a combination of such efforts will produce results.
Vegetarian
food actually contains many elements that are beneficial to our bones and
ligaments. For example, the silvertop plant is said not only to be rich in collagen
protein, but also contain natural yeast and lots of calcium, iron, magnesium,
potassium and fiber. For elderly people and vegetarians, it can serve as a
simple but efficacious natural food. Moreover, various funguses are inexpensive
and tasty foods that can supplement the colloid in our bodies. And flax seed
oil reportedly is rich in omega-3; it contains much more polyunsaturated fatty
acid than the oil from deep-sea fish.
As for medication that contains animal byproducts: If you find it hard to find substitutes, you may take them, to an extent, as medicine.
When Blessings Backfire
By Ru Zang
Technology
has improved our lives and brought us many conveniences. In the time before
mobile phones became commonplace, I had an unforgettable experience. I was
responsible for bringing a group of students to see a circus performance at the
Hong Kong Coliseum in Hung Hom. The arrangements
called for us to be the first batch to leave after the show. Because our
school’s coaches were first in the queue, we had to board them quickly; we were
to depart as soon as each driver reported that the number of students were
correct.
After about
10 minutes, word came over the walkie-talkie from a driver that one girl was
missing. There was no way to determine immediately what was happening, so we
could only wait anxiously inside the bus. It would be 30 minutes before we
reached a place with fixed-line phones. The journey seemed interminable; every
second, we seemed to be sitting on needles. Our minds conjured up all sorts of
possibilities: Would the girl have met with an accident? Might someone have
abducted her?
Eventually
the wait ended. We contacted our colleagues and were told that the student had
been found. Amid the rush, she had boarded the wrong coach. It struck me
immediately how useful and important a mobile telephone would be. It wasn’t
long afterwards that I bought my first cellphone.
After many
years’ development, mobile phones have incorporated such functions as
photography, video recording, gaming, web browsing and music playing. And
today, tablet computers can do just about everything a cellphone
can, bringing great conveniences. Wherever they are, people can discuss
business, make work arrangements and have telephone conferences, as well as play
games, have long conversations and listen to music to pass the time. I have
even seen lovers in a restaurant communicate through SMS when they are facing
each other. Mobile phones are also frequently used as tools for cheating during
examinations. They have become an indispensable personal accessory in today’s
society.
With the
information explosion, efficiency is essential and workloads have increased,
reaching stifling levels. People can’t waste time even when taking transportation.
Downsizing has led to longer working hours, and most employees remain engaged
with their work via their cellphones after office
hours. This has put people in states of intense alertness for extended periods.
Even
personal lives have become dominated by mobile phones. In their spare time,
many unconsciously use their devices to chat, go online, play games and listen
to music, eating up the time. Our private space is greatly diminished. Gone are
the days when we could think something through on our own.
Overuse of cellphones has definite effects on our vision, hearing and
sense of touch. Major manufacturers ignore warnings from experts that emissions
from the devices may cause brain cancer. The makers are focused only on how
quickly they can update the functions of their products to entice users into
upgrading. Moreover, most phones depend on their looks and multi-functionality
to attract buyers, and little attention is paid to durability. So huge
production volumes have meant vast wastage of resources. As it produces
enormous amounts of waste matter, the process of upgrading increases the burden
our embattled planet has to bear.
To have an agreeable life, a healthy
body and favorable working conditions is to be blessed with good fortune.
Misfortune, however, may also arise from such circumstances. If we are unable
to appreciate and cultivate good fortune even as we enjoy it, or cannot apply
appropriate self-restraint, our blessings may backfire. If we do not make
proper use of mobile phones, for example, our economic circumstances may be
negatively impacted, as well as our work and health.
As we go about our daily activities,
we should consider how to avoid becoming enslaved by our cellphones.
It is we who should exercise control over our devices, not the other way
around. Similarly, we should make good use of the conveniences afforded us by
our material environment, but avoid becoming hostage to materialism. Only then
can we live in a free and easy manner.
Lessons From Bodhisattvas
By Wing Suk
As we learn the Dharma and listen to
discourses, we are sometimes beset with doubts. Why haven’t I benefitted from
so many years of effort? Why haven’t I experienced changes? Perhaps we can
examine the issue from the perspective of our resolve and the level of our
practice.
I had the occasion to visit two
elderly ladies who lived alone. One was aged 99 and the other 94. They lived in
public housing in Sau Mau Ping Estate and Fu Hong
Estate respectively. Exceptionally long-lived, the old bodhisattvas had taken
the precepts more than half a century ago and followed veteran Dharma masters. Yet
the quality of life each experienced was very different – and provides us with
examples to learn from.
Grandma Lam, nearing 100, was short
and slim but her energy levels weren’t weak. Soft-spoken and well-mannered, she
had long been a full-time vegetarian. Her 100-odd-sq.-ft. home was tidy and
neat. On a cabinet was a niche she set aside for images of the Three Sacred
Beings of the Western Land of Bliss, to which she made offerings of fresh
flowers, incense, fruits and Dharma recitation texts. Grandma Lam would put on
her robes before doing recitations and performing reverences. It was all highly
respectful, though she tripped over a few times because of her physical
frailty. Once she blacked out and only came too after a while. Still, she
hurried to add that it was Bodhisattva Mahasthamaprapta who had saved her!
Though Grandma Lam lived alone, from
time to time she was visited by her grandchildren and social workers. She frequently
recited the name of Amitabha Buddha. At ease with life, she never uttered a
resentful word or showed anxiety. I did Amitabha-recitation with her during my
visit. With great concentration, she looked at the Three Sacred Beings while
softly doing her recitations. When it was over she even reminded us to recite
Amitabha’s name often.
She was also comfortable with the
issue of death. Besides having made ritual preparations for rebirth in the Pure
Land, she had instructed her grandchildren to scatter her ashes in the sea, so
she could form karmic bonds with the fish there. She had great faith that when
she died, Mahasthamaprapta would come on a golden platform to bring her to the
Land of Bliss. Even so, she did not seem prideful at all, constantly mentioning
Amitabha Buddha in her speech. I felt ashamed in her presence!
The other lady, 94-year-old Grandma
Yu, was short, plump and slightly bent at the waist. Being a little deaf, she
spoke in loud tones. She lived in a relatively spacious, old-style public
housing unit of 200 sq. ft. Her kitchen had taken on a coffee tint from the oil
and fumes of cooking. Her table was laden with assorted items, including the
leftovers of a meal, some dry food and various articles. Between the living
room and bedroom was a niche, where she hung a Buddha portrait. She offered it
flowers and a fruit or two. She had no fixed morning or evening practice; only
when she felt anxious and was reminded to recite Amitabha Buddha’s name did she
do so, slowly.
Grandma Yu worried a lot. For
example, she would make frequent trips to the bank to update her passbook, just
to be sure that her welfare payments had indeed been made. She had a volunteer
lawyer prepare her will, and personally witnessed the transfer of a part of her
savings to a law firm that would spend it on Buddhist rites after her death. Having
done that, she developed a new concern: Almost every day she would call to see
if the money she had entrusted to the firm was still there.
A host of tangible and intangible
concerns made Grandma Yu tense and anxious. Sometimes she would understand that
birth, aging, falling ill and death were inevitable stages of life, and ask
Amitabha Buddha to lead her to the Pure Land when she passed away. A few days later,
though, her fears and worries would return. She would then call for help. Only
after some words of comfort and encouragement to recite Amitabha’s name did she
calm down a while.
The two old ladies experienced life
differently, though they had both been Buddhists for decades. One was calm and
relaxed, never rushed or edgy. She went about her daily business quietly and
faced up to impermanence. She neither worried about life nor feared death, caring
only about diligence in her practice. She was full of faith in seeking rebirth
in the Land of Bliss.
The other was impatient and readily
distracted. Her mind was unfocused and beset by worries. With insufficient
faith, she worried about life and death, past and future. She made light of
observing the precepts and lacked diligence. As a result, it was hard for her
to find peace of mind or feel free and easy.
As living examples, the two elderly
bodhisattvas have provided us younger practitioners with clear-cut lessons. They
strengthen our faith and resolve in relation to the Dharma. This is especially
so with the Five Powers from the Five Spiritual Faculties – faith, diligence,
mindfulness, concentration and wisdom. The ladies have augmented our knowledge
and practice of the Dharma in our daily lives, as well as our attitude and determination.
They have also shown that the degree to which we can let go of ourselves and
our possessions has a big impact on our ability to cope with worldly matters. It
especially affects our concentration and our capacity to reflect and to act
wisely.
Let us bear witness to the power of
the Pure Land school and the recitation of Amitabha Buddha’s name. May we
practice both day and night, never letting go of his name. May we recite
without thoughts, and in the absence of thoughts, recite. May our thoughts be
continuously pure and free from delusions. Then we will see Amitabha Buddha
when the lotus flower opens!
ZEN TALK
How
Heavy?
The famous
scholar, Su Dongo, had a discussion about Chan (Zen)
principles with Master Zhaojue. Afterwards, Su had a
sudden insight and composed three gatha
to express his experience. They were titled “Before Chan Meditation,” “During
Chan Meditation” and “Gaining Enlightenment After Meditation.”
Having achieved his insight, Su
believed he had advanced to a higher level in his understanding of the Dharma.
He heard that Master Chenghao of Yuchuan
Monastery in Jingnan had a peerless grasp of the Chan
teachings. Su was skeptical, and sought a meeting to test the capabilities of
Master Chenghao.
As soon as they met, Su asked, “I
have heard that the Chan Master is very advanced when it comes to Chan
insights. I would like to ask, what is a Chan insight?”
Master Chenghao
did not answer. Instead, he asked Su, “May I ask the Esteemed Official his
family name?”
Su responded, “ My name is Ping (scales) – scales to measure the
weight of all the learned elders in the country.”
Master Chenghao
then let out a shout. “Pray tell me,” he said, “how heavy is this shout?”
Su Dongpo
had no answer. Gladly acknowledging defeat, he paid his respects and left.