Before attending the Dharma Assembly Honoring the Holy Birthday of Namo Dorje Chang Buddha III, I knew very little about Buddhism and had never participated in such a large-scale Buddhist event. I accepted an invitation out of curiosity, expecting to observe a traditional religious ceremony. What I experienced, however, far exceeded my expectations and left a lasting impression on me.
From the moment I entered the venue, I sensed an atmosphere of dignity, serenity, and profound respect. The beautifully arranged altar, the graceful floral decorations, and the orderly seating reflected meticulous preparation. Despite the large number of attendees, everything proceeded with remarkable precision and harmony. Volunteers guided participants with genuine warmth and courtesy, always wearing welcoming smiles and patiently assisting anyone who needed help.
What amazed me most was the extraordinary level of organization. Every part of the Dharma Assembly unfolded smoothly and reverently. There was no confusion or disorder, even though people from many countries and cultural backgrounds had gathered together. The entire event demonstrated an impressive spirit of cooperation, discipline, and mutual respect that is rarely seen at gatherings of this size.
As I observed the ceremony, I was touched by the sincerity of everyone present. The participants were not merely attending an event—they were expressing heartfelt reverence and offering prayers for world peace, the well-being of humanity, and the happiness of all living beings. It was inspiring to witness so many people united by compassion and goodwill rather than personal interests.
Although I am not a disciple of Namo Dorje Chang Buddha III, attending this Dharma Assembly gave me an opportunity to learn more about Him and the values that His teachings encourage. As I listened to those around me speak about His teachings and observed the compassion, humility, and kindness reflected throughout the event, I began to understand why so many people deeply respect and appreciate Him. The atmosphere itself conveyed a powerful message—that genuine spiritual practice should inspire people to become more compassionate, more considerate of others, and more dedicated to creating harmony in society.
One aspect that particularly moved me was the selfless dedication of the volunteers. They worked quietly behind the scenes without seeking recognition, ensuring that every participant felt welcomed and cared for. Their humility, patience, and willingness to serve others demonstrated values that many people, regardless of their religious beliefs, would admire and respect.
As the Dharma Assembly came to a close, I found myself reflecting on the experience. In today’s fast-paced world, opportunities to witness such sincerity, harmony, and mutual respect are increasingly rare. This gathering was much more than a ceremonial celebration; it was a powerful reminder that kindness, compassion, and selfless service have the ability to bring people together across cultures and backgrounds.
I left the venue with a heart full of admiration and gratitude. Although I came simply as a visitor, I departed with a much deeper appreciation for the positive influence that Namo Dorje Chang Buddha III has had on so many people’s lives. Seeing thousands of individuals inspired to cultivate kindness, serve others, and pray for the well-being of the world was deeply moving.
I am grateful for the opportunity to have attended this remarkable Dharma Assembly. It was an unforgettable experience that broadened my understanding of Buddhism and demonstrated how genuine compassion and harmony can unite people from all walks of life. The solemnity of the ceremony, the exceptional organization, and the sincere spirit of everyone present will remain in my memory for years to come.
How many times have you found yourself on a Friday evening, sighing, “Wow, this week went by so fast”?
We often live under the illusion that time is an endless reservoir and that tomorrow’s sun is guaranteed to rise. Because of this, we generously surrender our hours to mindless social media scrolling, infinite short videos, and the trivial daily tasks that drain our energy by day and leave us feeling empty by night.
Recently, I came across an ancient, striking Latin concept being discussed online: Memento Mori—“Remember you must die.”
To turn this abstract philosophy into something physical and undeniable, someone created an incredibly simple yet visceral tool: the Life Calendar.
It is just a standard sheet of A4 paper covered in a dense grid of tiny squares. Each square represents one week of your life.
If we assume an average lifespan of 80 years, that is 52 weeks multiplied by 80 years, which equals exactly 4,160 squares.
When you print this sheet out and sit before it, the visual impact is startling. You realize with a jolt that our long, passionate, complex lives, when stripped down to their absolute essence, can fit onto a single sheet of paper—with room to spare.
Now, at the end of every weekend, I take a pen and firmly cross off a square.
The scratch of the pen against the paper sounds like the quiet, relentless step of passing time. As the ink buries those past seven days, a few inescapable questions rise to the surface:
“Is this really all the squares I have left?”
“What did I actually do with the seven days I just crossed off?”
“If life is this brief, am I truly willing to trade my remaining squares for superficial social obligations and mental clutter?”
“Is where I am pouring my heart and energy truly worth the exchange?”
Admittedly, this ritual might seem extreme, even cold—like a daily countdown to the end. But when daily life becomes numb and repetitive, radical measures are often the most effective way to wake up.
Throughout history, those who achieved mastery in their fields often held onto habits that others found bizarre. They were willing to appear eccentric because they understood a fundamental truth: life is too short, and what truly matters must be fiercely guarded.
Steve Jobs: Every morning, he looked in the mirror and asked, “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” If the answer was “no” too many days in a row, he knew it was time to change.
Yuval Noah Harari: The author of Sapiens goes on a strict 60-day silent meditation retreat every single year. For 10 hours a day, he completely disconnects from the digital noise—no phones, no talking.
As Cal Newport notes in Deep Work, a personal ritual might seem strange to outsiders, but if it works for you, it is absolutely worth it. These extraordinary individuals weren’t being quirky; they were aggressively reclaiming their finite time.
Since adopting the Life Calendar, my daily habits have shifted dramatically.
Previously, whenever boredom or fatigue crept in, my hand would instinctively reach for my phone to mindlessly scroll through YouTube or social media feeds. Now, the moment my fingers hover over the screen, that dense grid of 4,160 squares flashes in my mind.
A voice pulls me back: “Careful. You are about to trade a portion of your remaining squares for a few seconds of cheap dopamine. Is it really worth the swap?”
This instant awareness acts as a powerful pattern-interrupter. It keeps me focused and intentional during the day, and gives me the resolve to step away from empty entertainment in the evenings to focus on personal growth and long-term aspirations.
But my practice of crossing off a square each week has a deeper, more profound purpose. It has anchored my spiritual path and Buddhist practice with absolute clarity.
The world is full of dazzling distractions—wealth, achievements, and praise. Yet, looking at that slowly darkening sheet of paper, a quiet truth settles in: when the final square is crossed off and impermanence claims us, not a single cent of wealth or ounce of worldly fame can be taken with us.
I do not want my limited squares to be filled with things that vanish like smoke.
Instead, I want to use this finite life to cultivate eternal value. By practicing the Dharma and dedicating myself to genuine spiritual cultivation, I am building the kind of merit and wisdom that transcends this single lifetime.
The calendar silently urges me every day: Be diligent! Do not waste time! Only by practicing mindfully in the present can we transcend the cycles of suffering and cultivate true, lasting liberation.
As you finish reading this, take a moment to draw your own grid in your mind. Count how many squares you have already crossed off, and look at how many blank spaces remain.
Life is brief, and this world of ours has no shortage of struggles. Stop spending your most precious squares on people and things that do not serve your deeper purpose. Plan wisely, live intentionally, and make every square count. May we all find true freedom and peace within the pages of our finite lives.
My family is originally from Mimou in the suburbs of Chengdu. In the autumn of 1992, my second younger brother Gao-Song Lu’s two-year-old son, Yang Lu, was hospitalized in the local Mimou Hospital with a mysterious high fever. Every day he received shots and took all sorts of medicine. This included Chinese herbal medicine, such as bupleurum falcatum and isalis root, and Western medicine, such as penicillin. None of them did any good. Every morning his fever would go down, but late at night it would rise up to 39°C (102.2°F) or 39.5°C (103.1°F). Within a few days, Yang Lu had developed a serious case of pneumonia. His condition worsened quickly, and his fever rose to 40°C (104°F). His father Gao-Song Lu had no choice but to move him to the 47th Military Hospital in Xindu.
There was a shortage of beds at the pediatric department, but with the help of the hospital’s head nurse, Li-Qin Huang, a friend of mine, Yang Lu found a place to stay at the department of Chinese herbal medicine. Yang Lu received much more advanced treatment at the military hospital than he did at that local ordinary hospital, but his temperature did not come down. To make matters worse, because of his continuous high fever, a horrible reaction to one of the intravenous shots all of a sudden caused his skin to blacken and and his tongue and reproductive organs to shrink. The doctor told my brother and his wife that Yang Lu might not live if the fever did not abate soon. Li-Qin Huang, the head nurse, was very worried and had someone look all over for me. When I finally heard what was happening, I dropped my work immediately and went to the residence of my respected Buddha master, His Holiness Dorje Chang Buddha III, to seek help.
I was very anxious, but H.H.Dorje Chang Buddha III consoled me. “Do not worry. This is a small matter. I will give you Chinese herbal medicine that will bring down the fever in no time.” H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III promptly ground the medicine to powder, wrapped it in white paper, and wrote on it “Mi Tuo Powder.” Yang Lu took the medicine, and his fever came down that very day. He was cured without even taking all of the Chinese medicine. The next day he was able to check out of the hospital and return home. My family and neighbors marveled at the effectiveness of “Mi Tuo Powder” and were all deeply grateful to H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III for saving Yang Lu’s life. Yang Lu is now in high school and plans to apply to the air force academy. He is very healthy.
In 1996, an injected form of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III’s “Mi Tuo Powder” was developed. Xiao-Mei Fang made arrangements with the Chengdu Institute of Biological Medicine to complete production procedures and produce a sample of golden ampere injected medicine. After H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III left Chengdu, the development was terminated for some reason. I hope that someday “Mi Tuo Powder” will be made available to help all people.
Chengdu Daily News Shih-Fang Lu,
April, 2006
(This is a complete translation of the Chinese text that follows originally written and signed by Shi-Fang Lu.)
Editor’s Note: This article is dedicated to Mother’s Day. The author is a 47-year-old mother whose eldest son is already 20 years old. Two years ago, after unexpectedly becoming pregnant with a second child, she firmly chose to give birth despite her husband’s threats of divorce, opposition from family members, and the risks associated with advanced maternal age. How did she maintain such a moving and unwavering maternal love? What gave her the strength to stand against worldly pressures?
I. I Planned to Become a Nun, but Unexpectedly Became Pregnant
“If you insist on keeping this baby, then let’s get divorced! The older child stays with me, and you can raise the second child by yourself!”
My husband nearly shouted those words at me.
“Please,” I replied through tears, “the baby is perfectly healthy. Please give this child a chance to be born and live.”
That evening, after dinner, we once again argued fiercely about whether I should keep or abort this unexpected pregnancy. My husband presented every possible reason why we should not have a second child. Whether through persuasion or pressure, his goal was the same: he was determined that I terminate the pregnancy.
At that point, the “uninvited guest” in my womb was exactly three months old.
I call the baby an “uninvited guest” because I had already made up my mind to become a nun.
One day in 2017, I attended a Dharma listening session at a Buddhist center and respectfully listened to the Dharma discourses of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. That gathering opened a completely new chapter in my life.
I subsequently took refuge in the Three Jewels. Through continuously listening to the Buddha’s Dharma discourses and studying Buddhist teachings, I gradually understood the true direction of my life and became determined to cultivate diligently. Eventually, I developed the aspiration to renounce worldly life and even completed an application to enter monastic life.
A few days after submitting the application, on December 8, 2018, I suddenly felt weak and nauseated. When I went to the hospital for an examination, the doctor informed me that I was pregnant.
It was completely unexpected.
Shock, confusion, struggle, disappointment—my emotions surged all at once. I had no idea what to do.
Had I not been studying Buddhism, I might have simply chosen abortion as many women do when they do not want a child. But as a Buddhist disciple, I had come to understand the law of cause and effect and the preciousness of obtaining a human birth.
How could I harm my own child and deprive a soul of the opportunity to be reborn as a human being?
Most importantly, I had already resolved to become a nun. Yet now this “uninvited guest” had arrived. Surely I could not enter monastic life while carrying a child.
Would I spend the rest of my life occupied with the responsibilities of family life?
Soon I came to accept the situation. This was karmic affinity—something beyond my control. I decided to follow the natural course of events.
While silently reciting the holy name of Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, I underwent an ultrasound examination. The baby was healthy and developing normally.
The doctor said, “At your age, becoming pregnant is not easy. I’ll prescribe medication to help stabilize the pregnancy. If you don’t intend to keep the baby, you should schedule the procedure soon. You’re already nearly two months pregnant.”
His words only strengthened my determination to give birth.
II. “I Will Protect This Child with My Life”
Both my husband and I had health issues. It had not been easy raising our first son, who was already in high school. My husband had long opposed the idea of having another child, so I initially concealed the pregnancy from him.
However, he soon found out.
Our household erupted into turmoil.
Whether during meals, before bed, or through messages on WeChat, he constantly urged me to undergo an abortion. We argued repeatedly. He even accused me of being selfish.
I felt helpless and dreaded going home. I tried to avoid seeing him whenever possible.
The only place where I found peace was at the Buddhist center, listening to the Dharma discourses of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III and reciting the holy name of Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva. Whenever I bowed before the Buddha or looked upon the image of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva, I would burst into tears uncontrollably.
My husband then organized a family gathering and invited my siblings to persuade me to abandon the pregnancy.
Everyone expressed their opinions. Alone, I found myself debating against the entire family.
Then my husband delivered what he believed was the ultimate threat:
“If you insist on giving birth, then you’re on your own. We’ll get divorced. I’ll only take responsibility for our older child.”
Without hesitation, I replied:
“I will take full responsibility for whatever happens. Even if I become a beggar, I will raise this child. If anyone tries to take this child away, I will protect him or her with my life.”
I cried and ran outside.
In late December 2018, my husband placed a divorce agreement and our marriage certificate in front of me and demanded that I sign.
I faced the most difficult decision of my life:
Should I choose my child or my marriage?
Should I raise an infant alone, or maintain our family of three and continue our comfortable life together?
I did not sign the agreement.
Instead, I wrote a will.
As an older expectant mother, I knew there were risks associated with childbirth. I carefully arranged my affairs and entrusted a Dharma sister with the responsibility of raising the child if something happened to me. I hoped she would one day bring the child to pay respects to the Buddha. If that became impossible, I requested that a temple care for the child.
By continuously listening to the Buddha’s Dharma teachings, I gained a deeper understanding of karma and causality. I firmly believed that if I sincerely practiced according to Buddhist principles, the future would not be as bleak as I feared.
Kneeling before the Buddha altar, I made a solemn vow:
No matter how difficult the future became, I would not abort this child. Even if my own life were at risk, I would give birth. I prayed for the blessings of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas to protect both myself and my child.
III. Upholding Buddhist Principles Brings the Best Outcome
Life is often full of unexpected turns.
On New Year’s Day 2019, my son returned home from school and accidentally discovered the unsigned divorce agreement on my bedside table.
Without hesitation, he tore it up.
Before returning to school, he secretly wrote a letter to his father and slipped it into his coat pocket.
When I later read the letter, I broke down in tears.
My son recalled how hard our family had worked to raise him, how loving his parents once were, and how much his mother had sacrificed. He even included a cherished family photograph.
After reading the letter, my husband’s attitude gradually softened.
When an ultrasound later confirmed that the baby was a healthy girl, the entire family rejoiced. My husband’s family had always hoped for a daughter.
From that moment onward, everyone’s attitude changed dramatically. Instead of opposition, they began showing genuine care and support.
Throughout the pregnancy, I continued attending Dharma study sessions, participating in Buddhist activities, and praying to Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva. I also engaged in acts of merit such as life release, offering lamps, making offerings to the Buddha and Sangha, and reciting the Universal Gate Chapter of the Lotus Sutra.
Although I was considered an older expectant mother, my pregnancy progressed remarkably well.
On July 4, 2020, while lying on the operating table, I focused wholeheartedly on reciting the holy name of Namo Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva.
The cesarean section proceeded smoothly and without complications.
A healthy baby girl weighing 6.8 pounds was born.
Family and friends waiting outside the operating room were overjoyed.
My first cesarean section had been extremely difficult, with serious complications for both mother and child. Yet this time, I was able to get out of bed and walk the very next day.
When I returned to work after maternity leave, my colleagues remarked that I looked unchanged despite having given birth and joked that I had gained the perfect blessing—a son and a daughter.
I proudly replied:
“Of course it’s different when one has the blessings of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas.”
And that is exactly how it felt.
Today, my daughter is nearly two years old.
Time and again, circumstances have unfolded in the best possible way. Relatives unexpectedly appeared when childcare help was needed. Teachers made special accommodations for her. She became beloved by classmates and teachers alike.
Everything seemed to fall naturally into place.
Only a few days after her birth, my husband was recommended for a local leadership development position. Friends congratulated him on receiving two blessings at once.
The storms that once threatened our family have long since passed.
Our family of four now enjoys a harmonious and happy life together.
Through this experience, I came to understand the true meaning of perseverance.
A mother’s willingness to protect her child, no matter the hardship or sacrifice, is perseverance.
A Buddhist disciple’s commitment to cherish all life and uphold the principle of “Refrain from all evil and practice all good” despite difficulties and humiliation is also perseverance.
People often ask me what gave me the strength to remain steadfast.
I can only say that beyond the power of maternal love, there was also the power of Buddha Dharma.
As Mother’s Day approaches, I hope that all parents may find the courage to uphold what is right and allow those karmically connected children who come into this world the precious opportunity of human life.
As long as we uphold wholesome causes and conditions, no obstacle is impossible to overcome.
Written by: Ye Mingzhu Edited by: Lamp Before the Buddha (Fo Qian Deng)
The children always remembered the way their father moved through the house in the early morning — not rushing, not dragging, but walking with a quiet steadiness, as if each step were placed with intention. The soft shuffle of his feet, the gentle clearing of his throat, the way he paused at the doorway to look at the sky before beginning the day — all of it felt like a small ceremony, a reminder that life was something to be met with presence.
He never taught them compassion through words. He taught it through the way he lived.
When a neighbor’s roof began to leak during the winter rains, he didn’t sigh or complain about the inconvenience. He simply gathered his tools, wiped the mist from his glasses, and said, “Come with me. Let’s see how we can help.” The children watched him climb the ladder slowly, carefully, as if he were ascending a sacred path. The cold wind tugged at his jacket, the shingles were slick beneath his hands, but he worked with a calm focus that made the moment feel almost holy. When he patched the leak and the dripping finally stopped, he smiled — not because he wanted praise, but because someone’s burden had become lighter.
Another time, when an elderly man’s car refused to start in the heat of summer, their father knelt beside the engine with the same tenderness he used when holding a newborn. The children stood nearby, watching the sweat bead on his forehead as he listened to the engine’s uneven breaths. “Machines speak too,” he told them softly. “You just have to listen with patience.” When the engine finally roared back to life, the old man’s eyes filled with relief. Their father simply nodded, wiped his hands on a rag, and whispered, “May your road be smooth.”
The children didn’t understand it then, but he was teaching them the Dharma in the language of everyday life. He was showing them how to see suffering without turning away, how to offer help without expecting anything in return, how to move through the world with a heart that stayed open even when life was heavy.
As they grew older, they began to feel the weight of those lessons in their own bones.
One became a teacher who stayed after school to help students who felt invisible. She remembered the way her father listened — fully, without judgment — and she tried to offer her students that same refuge. Another became a nurse who held trembling hands in the quiet hours of the night. He remembered how his father breathed slowly, steadily, even when the work was hard, and he learned to be a calm presence for others. The youngest created a community program that helped families rebuild their lives. She remembered the way her father patched roofs and revived engines, and she understood that healing often begins with the smallest acts of care.
They didn’t choose these paths because their father told them to. They chose them because they had lived their whole lives watching him turn compassion into action, moment by moment, breath by breath.
Years passed. The children grew into adults who carried their father’s teachings in the way they spoke, the way they listened, the way they offered themselves to the world. And their father, now older, watched them with a quiet pride that softened his eyes.
On Father’s Day, they gathered around him. His hair had turned silver, his hands were rough from decades of work, but his presence was still steady — like a lantern that had guided them through every dark season.
“Dad,” the eldest said, her voice trembling, “everything we do… everything we’ve become… it’s because of you.”
He shook his head gently, the way he always did when he felt gratitude but didn’t want praise.
“I only showed you the path,” he whispered. “You walked it yourselves.”
But the children knew the truth.
He had given them more than shelter. More than guidance. More than love.
He had given them a way of seeing the world — a way rooted in compassion, patience, and the belief that every act of kindness sends ripples far beyond what the eye can see.
And as they sat with him that Father’s Day, surrounded by the warmth of everything he had nurtured, they realized something too:
The seeds he planted had grown into a forest — a living testament to the quiet, powerful love of a father who taught not through words, but through the gentle, unwavering example of a life lived with an open heart.
In the vast river of Chinese art history, literati landscape paintings (Wenrenhua 文人画) have traditionally served as a sanctuary for the soul—using brush and ink to transcend the mundane world and attain the highest realm of spiritual freedom. In the pantheon of contemporary Eastern art, “Ancient Cypresses Intoning by the Spring”—a Chinese landscape masterpiece by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III (Yi Yun Gao义云高)—stands as an immortal monument of the Literati Style (Wenfeng文风派). It not only showcases a profound scholarly aura and masterful brush-and-ink technique, but also ushers viewers into an eternal, boundless cosmic life-space.
The entire composition relies solely on shades of wash and ink to dot and stain the wondrous peaks, ancient cypresses, and secluded cottages. Through the masterful use of white space (liubai留白), the grand spectacle of thundering waterfalls and surging mountain springs is vividly brought to life. The sounds of roaring wind, rushing springs, and whispering pines are all transformed upon the paper into dynamic visual lines and lively ink tones, filling the entire conceptual space with invisible celestial melodies. This touch of pure ink is precisely the ultimate spiritual realm—honest, elegant, natural, yet profoundly deep—that Chinese literati across generations have spent their entire lives pursuing.
The artistic conception of Ancient Cypresses Intoning by the Spring is remarkably deep, ethereal, and serene. The imagery carries a desolate yet vast quality, evoking an ideal world of mythical mountains and jade islands completely untouched by worldly noise or secular dust.
Most profound of all is how the sense of time dissolves before this artwork:
No Human Traces: The painting features no worldly figures; it presents only the primordial essence of nature.
No Trace of the Artist: The brushwork is incredibly mature yet leaves no deliberate mark, as if the painting was not rendered by human hands but manifested spontaneously by heaven and earth.
No Trace of the Viewer: As you gaze into the painting, the ego dissolves, and the self merges entirely into the landscape.
Here, the duality of subject and object vanishes. All phenomena exist in pure, seamless unity, entirely natural and spontaneous. With a single brush, the artist delineates the physical form of the earth, yet weaves it seamlessly with the void of the universe—structuring a vibrant, ever-generating cosmic space.
📜 A Paradigm Beyond Reality: “Imagery Beyond the Universe, Life Beyond the Seasons”
The great Qing Dynasty master painter Yun Nantian once evaluated the highest realm of art with these words:
“Gazing deeply into this realm, every blade of grass, every tree, every hill, and every ravine feels uniquely carved from a pure spirit, belonging to no mortal world. Its imagery exists beyond the universe, and its life unfolds outside the four seasons.”
This means that a truly sublime artistic realm is born entirely from the pristine spirit of the artist—a sacred landscape unfindable in the mundane world. Its essence transcends physical boundaries, and its cycle of growth and decay outlasts the changing of spring, summer, autumn, and winter.
Ancient Cypresses Intoning by the Spring by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III is the perfect paradigm of this transcendent landscape art. Refusing to be bound by mere literal resemblance, it draws directly from the primordial source of the universe, using flawless contemporary brushwork to reawaken the core spiritual essence of traditional Chinese literati painting.
Ancient Cypresses Intoning by the Spring is far more than a master-level art treasure; it is a spiritual home where the soul can find perfect rest. In our bustling, modern society, when we gaze upon this masterpiece—listening to the low hum of the ancient cypresses and watching the crystal springs rush forth—the anxieties of life dissolve instantly. This is the power of true art, and this is the soul-stirring beauty that H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III has bestowed upon the world.
In this life, none of us can escape the torments of birth, aging, illness, and death. As the old saying goes, “Even the strongest man fears the toll of disease.” When our physical bodies face the pain of a terminal illness and our minds plunge into the fear of death, we often feel incredibly small and hopeless. However, the true, orthodox Tathagata Dharma possesses the magnificent power to enable sentient beings to completely sever the cycle of dark karma, achieve liberation in this very lifetime, and attain freedom over life and death.
This article is compiled from an actual radio interview with Ruzun Ruohui, the Abbot of Hua Zang Si in San Francisco. By sharing a profoundly moving example of a Buddhist disciple’s spiritual realization, Ruzun Ruohui reveals to the public how, under the guidance of our Buddha Master, one can transition from the agonizing pain of a terminal illness to passing away peacefully with palms pressed together—manifesting holy signs of liberation. This account serves as a bright highway to liberation for all sentient beings currently struggling in delusion and illness.
In the eyes of the mundane world, a severe illness—especially late-stage cancer—frequently brings excruciating physical and mental torment. However, Ruzun Ruohui explicitly points out that the fundamental purpose of our Buddhist practice is precisely to free ourselves from the suffering of birth, aging, illness, and death.
Yet, can one truly realize freedom over life and death and achieve holy fruits in this lifetime? Aside from using one’s own practice as a foundation, the most critical factor is that one must learn and practice “True Buddha Dharma.” Among the disciples of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, instances of liberation and accomplishment are too numerous to count. This is exactly because they each received the transmission of sublime, corresponding Tathagata Dharma from their Buddha Master. Even when someone is afflicted with a fatal illness and on the brink of death, they can reverse their negative karmic retributions and achieve liberation in a very short period of time.
Among these, the real-life holy feat of the great accomplished practitioner, Layperson Zhao Yusheng in 2017, serves as a shocking, firsthand testimony to the world.
Layperson Zhao Yusheng’s path to liberation was not without obstacles; he had previously experienced an unfortunate detour into delusion.
He had followed an evil teacher and joined a cult. In his confusion, he carried out its wicked rules, helping the evil teacher promote falsehoods, deceive people, and conceal fabrications. These misdeeds, which harmed the public and society to protect the evil teacher’s private interests, left him heavily laden with dark karma. Because the law of cause and effect never fails, the retribution of his dark karma manifested: he was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. Tormented by the agonizing pain of his illness, he became lucidly aware that he had been utterly ruined by that evil teacher.
On June 27, 2017, suffering from terminal cancer, Layperson Zhao Yusheng mustered his last ounce of strength and flew to Los Angeles. There, he finally met the supreme H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. Before the Buddha Master, he offered his most devout and deeply painful repentance.
Facing this lost soul who was covered in dark karma and racked with pain, the great Buddha Master manifested boundless compassion. The Buddha Master told him:
“Whether you repent or not is not what is important. What matters is that you practice well from now on, truly change from evil to good, and benefit society and all sentient beings.”
This teaching reflected ultimate benevolence and compassion, looking past a sentient being’s historical mistakes and focusing entirely on their current self-renewal. Layperson Zhao Yusheng immediately made a great vow, swearing that he would never associate with the cult again, even if it meant “dying right then and there.” His sole wish for this life was to ascend to the Buddha Lands. This unreserved, absolute sincerity moved heaven and earth.
The Yidam Personally Descends: A Holy, Inner-Tantric Initiation Beyond Imagination
Seeing Layperson Zhao Yusheng’s sincerity and that his causal conditions had matured, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III compassionately took him refuge and immediately transmitted a supreme Great Dharma to him, invoking the Yidam, Amitabha Buddha!
At the site of the initiation and Dharma transmission, a sacred miracle manifested: Layperson Zhao Yusheng saw with his own eyes Amitabha Buddha descending into the sky, displaying the incomparably magnificent Thirty-Two Major Marks. The Buddha’s entire body emitted boundless golden light as He slowly descended onto the mandala. Overwhelmed with emotion, Zhao prostrated to the Buddha Master, and Amitabha Buddha personally touched his head to bestow the Dharma. The Buddha also pointed toward the West, allowing him to see with his own eyes the radiant, golden gates of the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. The light streaming from within those gates was ten million times brighter than the sun!
Amitabha Buddha personally told him that at the end of his life, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva (Guan Yin) would be sent to receive and guide him to be reborn into the Middle Grade of the Middle Class of the Western Pure Land.
At that moment, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III said to him, “You have succeeded; your Yidam, Amitabha Buddha, has accepted you.” For over thirty years, Layperson Zhao Yusheng had chanted the Buddha’s name but never felt certain whether he could achieve rebirth. Now, he finally received a personal guarantee from the mouth of the Buddha.
Upon returning to San Francisco, he treated this transmission like an invaluable treasure, diligently practicing his daily cultivation. Originally, his fingernails had completely dried up and split due to late-stage cancer; however, after practicing the Dharma, they miraculously regrew into smooth, pink, healthy nails, and the cracking completely disappeared. This demonstrated that the blessings of the Buddha Dharma had permeated the very cells of his physical body.
A Sacred Moment of Simultaneous Resonance: Freedom Over Life and Death, Manifesting Auspicious Signs
On August 24, 2017, at approximately 2:15 PM, a moment arrived that all Buddhist disciples will remember for the rest of their lives.
At that exact time, in a mandala over 800 kilometers away, Rinpoches and Dharma Masters were requesting H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III to expound the Dharma. In the middle of the discourse, the Buddha Master suddenly stopped without any prior sign and announced:
“Stop, I will not speak further. The grand causal condition has arrived; it has appeared. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva has escorted Zhao Yusheng away, and the people beside him have witnessed it too.”
Less than two minutes after the Buddha Master spoke these words, a Dharma Master’s phone at the scene rang. On the other end of the line was Mao Meimei, the Buddhist disciple responsible for caring for Layperson Zhao Yusheng. Trembling with immense excitement, she reported to the Buddha: Layperson Zhao Yusheng had achieved freedom over life and death, and Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva had personally descended to escort him away!
It turned out that just two minutes prior, Layperson Zhao Yusheng had peacefully instructed his caregivers and his daughter from his sickbed, saying that he was about to leave. Using his remaining strength, he declared in a resonant voice:
“I will now use my freedom over life and death to perform a Dharma demonstration, proving that the Buddha Dharma of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III is the most supreme and holy! That evil teacher is a demon, a monster! A false teacher, a massive fraud, and a sinner! The true, orthodox Tathagata Dharma resides right here with our great Buddha Master, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. Alright, alright, I will say no more—Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva has come to receive me.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a breathtaking holy feat occurred: Layperson Zhao Yusheng’s entire body emitted an extraordinary radiance. The people present clearly saw an immensely tall Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva standing directly above his head, radiating intense white light, surrounded by beautiful five-colored auspicious halos—a scene of ultimate magnificence!
Following this, Layperson Zhao Yusheng’s consciousness burst forth from the crown of his head, transforming into a radiant holy being dressed in white garments. Stepping onto auspicious clouds, his consciousness rushed toward Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, ascending into the sky and departing. This astonishing sight was even witnessed by a 92-year-old Malaysian neighbor living across the street! Everyone rushed out into the courtyard and saw the entire sky filled with a dazzling, brilliant light. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva led the way, guiding the holy being Zhao Yusheng as he ascended to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, gradually fading into the depths of the sky.
Layperson Zhao Yusheng transformed from a terminally ill patient—deceived by an evil teacher and burdened with dark karma—into a liberated practitioner who received the true Dharma from H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. Within a mere two months, he realized a miracle of liberation: breaking free from the shackles of illness, gaining freedom over life and death, being personally received by Guan Yin, and leaving a sign witnessed by the entire neighborhood. This is not a myth; it is a holy manifestation of Buddha Dharma presented right before our eyes.
He departed with absolute freedom and ease. Before his passing, he courageously demonstrated the Dharma through the reality of freedom over life and death, exposing the false teacher and denouncing the demon, thereby using his compassionate heart to awaken deluded sentient beings.
Upon receiving the news, the Dharma Masters, monastic community, and laypersons at Hua Zang Si were filled with joy and comfort. This holy feat manifests clearly to the world: the true, orthodox Tathagata Dharma resides right here with H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III! May all sentient beings who are still lost and struggling in the mundane world, on the brink of illness and death, encounter this causal condition. May they quickly stay away from false teachers and frauds, draw close to H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III to study the true orthodox Tathagata Dharma, and step onto the path of genuine liberation and happiness!
When people think of traveling to Guangxi, world-famous destinations like Guilin and Yangshuo immediately come to mind. But tucked away in the northwest of the province lies a hidden, crowd-free water wonderland that is about to become your next obsession: Hechi!
This isn’t Semporna or the Maldives—this is Hechi, a pristine paradise that brings together majestic karst mountains, emerald-green waters, mystical caves, and swirling schools of fish.
If you are looking to escape the summer heat and discover a side of China that most international tourists have never seen, bookmark this ultimate guide to Hechi’s three “divine hidden realms” and start packing!👇
🗺️ Deep Dive: The Three Mystical Water Spots of Hechi
1️⃣ Tian’er: The “Blue Blade” Fish Paddleboarding Drift 🐟
The Vibe: Stepping Into an Animated Fantasy World
The Experience: Imagine paddling down a river nestled between towering karst cliffs, where the water is so still it looks like a sheet of flawless green jade. This is the Hongshui River section in Tian’er. Rent a paddleboard at “Guizhiyuan Mountain Villa” and embark on a breathtaking 12-kilometer drift downstream to the old town pier.The absolute highlight of this journey is crossing the “Blue Blade Fish Storm” point. The Blue Blade fish (Hemiculter leucisculus) is incredibly sensitive to environment and only thrives in ultra-pure, wild waters. When you crumble some bread into the water, the river instantly “comes alive.” Hundreds of shimmering, silver-blue fish will swirl around your paddleboard in a mesmerizing underwater vortex. With the morning sun reflecting off their scales, it genuinely feels like stepping straight into a scene from a fantasy movie.
💰 Cost: Around 150 RMB/day for paddleboard rental (convenient pick-up and drop-off services are available at both the start and end points).
⏰ Best Time: April to October, when the fish are most active. Aim for early morning or just after a rain shower when the water is at its most transparent.
2️⃣ Fengshan: Cruising the Underground “Sea” of Sanmenhai ⛵
The Vibe: A Journey to the Center of the Earth
The Experience: Don’t let the name fool you—while “Hai” means sea, Sanmenhai is actually a spectacular, world-class geological wonder featuring a cluster of massive karst “heavenly windows” (sinkholes formed by the collapse of underground river ceilings). It is the only place in the world where you can board a traditional manual wooden boat and slide through interconnected caves into hidden tiankengs.As your boat glides from the pitch-black cavern into the light, you will be struck by an otherworldly sight. A beam of natural sunlight pierces through the open roof, illuminating the deep subterranean river into a surreal, glowing Tiffany Blue and deep sapphire. Local residents describe it as “a sea within the mountains, with gates upon the sea.” The jaw-dropping contrast of emerging from a dark cave into a hidden world of vibrant turquoise waters and hanging vines is a visual shock you will never forget.
🎫 Tickets: Around 60 RMB (Group rate/Online booking recommended for independent travelers).
⏰ Hours: 08:30 – 17:30 (Last entry at 17:00).
3️⃣ Du’an: Floating on the “Jelly Water” of Jiudun Tianchuang 💧
The Vibe: The Everest of Cave Diving Meets a Healing Crystal Palace
The Experience: Du’an county is home to hundreds of underground river sinkholes, but the Jiudun Tianchuang (Jiudun Heavenly Window) is the crown jewel. Serving as the source of the Chengjiang River, this spot is legendary among global diving communities. Its underwater caves drop down hundreds of meters into a complex, mysterious labyrinth, earning it the title of “The Mount Everest of Underwater Cave Diving.” In fact, global cave diving depth records have been smashed right here.While the depths are a thrilling challenge for professionals, the surface is a gentle, healing fairy tale. The water here possesses an astonishing, glass-like transparency. It looks exactly like a giant bowl of shimmering green jelly. The best way to experience this is by renting a completely transparent paddleboard. As you float, it feels as though you are suspended in mid-air. Looking down, you can see dozens of meters straight to the bottom where lush river weeds wave like silk ribbons in the current. It requires absolutely zero photo filters—any snapshot here is an instant masterpiece.
🎫 Tickets: FREE entry to the area!
💰 Paddleboard Rental: Around 30 RMB/hour, or 50 RMB for 2 hours.
📸 Pro-Tip: Make sure to request a clear/transparent paddleboard for those stunning, weightless aerial-style photos!
🚗 【Essential Travel Tips】
📅 Best Season:May to October. This is the prime time for water activities, and you will also get the chance to see the beautiful, rare Ottelia acuminata (sea-cake flowers) blooming on the water’s surface.
🚘 Getting Around:Self-driving or renting a car is highly recommended. The highways and national roads connecting Tian’er, Fengshan, and Du’an are well-maintained, and the driving routes wind through some of the most stunning, dramatic karst landscapes in China.
🎒 What to Pack: High-SPF sunscreen, quick-dry clothing, and a reliable waterproof bag for your electronics. Keep in mind that the caves can get quite chilly, so bring a light jacket.
🕶️ Secret Weapon: Bring a pair of polarized sunglasses! They cut the glare on the water’s surface entirely, allowing you to see the fish and underwater plants with perfect clarity.
⚠️ Safety First: Always wear your life jacket when paddleboarding! No matter how good of a swimmer you are, safety makes the trip enjoyable.
The beauty of Guangxi goes so much deeper than its famous postcards. Hechi offers a raw, wild, and incredibly pure escape that is hard to find in today’s crowded world. If you want to beat the summer heat, dive into crystal waters, and explore the mysteries of the earth without the crowds—Hechi is calling. 🎒🌿
Recently, I joined an online Buddhist study group where we have been deeply immersing ourselves in learning the Sutra by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. This experience has changed my life dramatically. As I began dedicating more intentional time to reading and listening to the Sutra, I noticed a powerful shift in my daily habits. I finally found the strength to break away from the mindless habit of scrolling through screens, freeing up the space and energy to exercise regularly. By simply replacing digital distraction with spiritual study and physical movement, I already feel significantly happier and healthier.
As I continue this journey, I often find myself reflecting on how these profound teachings apply to the ordinary, messy moments of everyday life. It is easy to study a principle conceptually, but the true cultivation begins when we bring it off the page and into our interactions with the world.
One teaching from the Sutra that has particularly influenced me—and completely shifted my perspective—is the vital importance of examining myself before focusing on the shortcomings of others.
In daily life, our default reaction to friction is often outward-facing. When someone cuts us off in traffic, misunderstands our intentions, or speaks with an edge in their voice, the ego immediately jumps to defend itself. It points a finger at the other person’s impatience, rudeness, or flaws.
However, the teachings of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III remind us that external circumstances are merely mirrors reflecting our own internal state. True cultivation requires us to break this habit of looking outward and instead turn our gaze fiercely and honestly inward.
Now, whenever I encounter misunderstandings, disagreements, or situations that test my patience, I pause. Before I speak, react, or allow resentment to build, I try to ask myself these four grounding questions:
Have I truly looked inward first? Am I seeing this situation clearly, or am I viewing it through the distorted lens of my own biases and expectations?
Is there something I need to improve in myself? Instead of demanding that the other person change, what flaw, impatience, or lack of skill in my own conduct needs addressing?
Am I responding with compassion and wisdom? Is my energy coming from a place of genuine care for the other person’s well-being, or is it coming from a desire to be “right”?
What attachment or habit might I be overlooking? What underlying ego-attachment—whether to my reputation, my comfort, or my pride—is causing me to feel triggered right now?
Although it is not always easy—and requires constant mindfulness—this practice has been quietly transformative. It acts as a circuit breaker for negative emotions. By shifting the focus from “what they did wrong” to “how I can grow,” I have found myself becoming genuinely more patient, more deeply understanding of others’ hidden struggles, and far less reactive to life’s daily irritations.
Cultivation is not about achieving perfection overnight; it is about making the consistent choice to choose wisdom over ego, one interaction at a time.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wrestled with my own thoughts and feelings about identity. Why am I, David, the person I am? How changeable is that? Where do those thoughts and feelings come from anyway, and what purposes do they ultimately serve? I suppose it’s no coincidence then that I’ve also always been so curious about the subject of human consciousness. That’s the area of science and philosophy — of human thinking generally! — that burrows most deeply into similar questions and, to varying degrees of satisfaction, offers a plethora of possible answers.
The best-selling author Michael Pollan has been thinking about these things, too. Throughout his work — which includes classic books like “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” (2006), about why we eat the way we do, and “How to Change Your Mind” (2018), about the science and uses of psychedelic drugs — Pollan has waded into ideas about the inner workings of the mind. Now, with his forthcoming book, “A World Appears: A Journey Into Consciousness,” which will arrive this month, he has jumped into the deep end. The book is both a highly personal and expansive multidisciplinary survey of questions around human consciousness — what it is, what causes it, what it’s for and what the possible answers might mean for how we choose to live. And as Pollan explained, with the rise of artificial intelligence as well as the relentless political pressure on our attention (that is, our minds), those questions, already profound, are becoming only more urgent.
I want to get some basics: How do you define consciousness? The simplest way to define consciousness is as subjective experience. Another one-word definition is “awareness.” Thomas Nagel, the N.Y.U. philosopher, wrote a piece back in the ’70s called “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?” His idea is: If we can imagine it is like anything to be a bat, then a bat is conscious, because that means it has some sort of subjective experience. Why did he choose bats? Well, they’re very different than we are. Instead of using eyesight, they use echolocation. They bounce signals off of objects to move through space. We can vaguely imagine going through the world with echolocation. Whereas my toaster, I can’t do that. I don’t have a sense of what it’s like to be my toaster.
A big question of consciousness is what the philosopher David Chalmers has referred to as the “hard problem.” Can you tell people what that is? Basically how you get from matter to mind, how you cross that huge gulf from neurons to subjective experience — a gulf no one has managed to cross. Related questions are: Why don’t all these things we do go on automatically? Why do we have to be aware of anything? We could be completely automated and perhaps get along just fine. Your brain is monitoring your body and making fine adjustments in the blood gasses, in the heart rate, in digestion. There’s a lot going on that we don’t have to think about. So why do we have to think about any of it? Some interesting theories have been proposed. One is that some of the issues that we deal with have to be decided in a conscious way. When you have two competing needs — you’re hungry and you’re tired — which should take precedence? So consciousness opens up this space of decision-making. The other argument is that we live in a very complex social world where I have to predict what you’re going to say; I have to imagine my way into your head. You can’t automate human social interaction. It has too many elements. So consciousness is very helpful in navigating that world.
It seems likely to me that regardless of the source of consciousness, it’s probably a result of evolutionary processes — that consciousness evolved to make information available to certain parts of the brain, or to help us recognize patterns, or perceive threats, or maintain homeostasis. But are any non-evolutionary arguments for consciousness plausible to you? Oh, yeah. One is panpsychism.
Which could sound bonkers. It can sound bonkers. Panpsychism is the idea that everything, every particle, the ink on the page, the atoms, all have some infinitesimal degree of psyche or consciousness, and somehow this consciousness is combined in some way from our cells and the rest of our bodies to create this kind of superconsciousness. It sounds crazy. There are some very serious people who believe in it. You have to expand your sense of the plausible when you’re looking at consciousness. But we’ve done that before. How long ago was it that we discovered electromagnetism? This crazy idea that there are all these waves passing through us that can carry information. That’s just as mind-blowing, right?
I could happily talk about consciousness all day, but often when I do talk about it with people, I can tell that they view thinking about consciousness as almost akin to navel gazing. Like, it’s an interesting thing to think about, but really what difference does it make? What is your response to that? I’ve thought a lot about what good is it to think about consciousness, and I came to think that it’s more important than ever. Scientists are now learning that more and more animals and creatures — going all the way down possibly to insects — are conscious. So that’s one interesting issue: We’re sharing consciousness with more creatures. And then the big threat is artificial intelligence and the effort to create a conscious A.I., which is going to be an enormous challenge to this question of what does it mean to be human. Is consciousness something that a machine can possess? Are we more like intelligent machines or conscious, feeling animals? Who are we? So I think we’re approaching this kind of Copernican moment of redefinition.
What do you think we should do with the increasing awareness that more animals might be conscious than we previously thought? I guess the argument would be that we should have a greater amount of respect for them, but we know human beings are conscious and we exploit the hell out of other humans all the time. That’s a great question. There’s this whole conversation, very active here where I live in Silicon Valley, that if A.I. is conscious, then we’re going to have to give it moral consideration. Well, really? Have we given moral consideration to one another? Have we given moral consideration to the chickens and the cattle that we eat? The answer is no. It doesn’t automatically follow. So we’re going to have to sort out the ethics. Maybe it’s around the ability to suffer. Maybe that’s where you draw the line. I don’t know. I’m not an ethicist, but it’s not as easy as: You’re conscious, therefore you have all these rights. A.I. is really going to complicate this. Who we grant personhood to is a very subjective human decision. We give it to corporations, oddly enough, which are not conscious, but there are all sorts of creatures we don’t give it to. I don’t think we’re entirely rational or consistent in our granting of moral consideration.
You are skeptical that A.I. can achieve consciousness. Why? I’m convinced by some of the researchers, including Antonio Damasio and Mark Solms, who made a really compelling case that the origin of consciousness is with feelings, not thoughts. Feelings are the language in which the body talks to the brain. We forget that brains exist to keep bodies alive, and the way the body gets the brain’s attention is with feelings. So if you think feelings are at the center of consciousness, it’s very hard to imagine how a machine could rise to that level to have feelings. The other reason I think we’re not close to it is that everything that machines know, the data set on which they’re trained, is information on the internet. They don’t have friction with nature. They don’t have friction with us. Some of the most important things we know are about person-to-person contact, about contact with nature — this friction that really makes us human.
Despite how it may seem, the internet is not actually the whole of the world. But to a computer, it’s all you got.
How would we know if an A.I. is conscious or not? How do I know you’re conscious?
I promise I am! Your promise is what’s called reportability in philosophy. You can ask something if it’s conscious, and with humans, we kind of know.
But if an A.I. says: “Michael, I’m conscious. I promise,” how do we know? We don’t, and that is exactly why people are falling deep into these relationships with A.I. We can’t say it’s not conscious when it tells us it is. But we can test it in various ways. It all goes back to this idea of the Turing test — that the test of machine intelligence would be when they can fool us.
If the Turing test is the criteria for machine consciousness, then that test has already been passed. Exactly, it has fooled many, many people. Whether it can fool an expert, too, I don’t know, but probably. So we’re in a very weird place where the machines we’re living with are telling us they’re conscious. We can’t dispute it, but we can look at how they’re made and draw the kind of conclusions I’ve drawn. But is that going to persuade everybody? No. We want them to be conscious in some way. Or some of us do. It’s easier to have a relationship with a chatbot than another human. Going back to that friction point, they offer no friction. They just suck up to us and convince us how brilliant we are, and we fall for it.
What do you think religion has to offer to questions about consciousness? Buddhism has been thinking about consciousness for a very long time. It has been raising these questions about the self and giving people tools to transcend the self, which in itself is a desire that is surprising. We cling to this ego so firmly; at the same time, we do a lot of things to get away from it, whether it’s extreme sports or psychedelics or meditation.
Or watching a movie or having sex or any number of things. Some of the highest experiences of life are these moments where we transcend the self, and that’s curious.
What do you think that’s about? Why, if we cling to the self, are we also so hungry to lose ourselves? The self isolates us, the ego builds walls around it, it’s constantly evaluating, it ruminates. There’s a lot of crappy stuff about the self.
Yeah, it’s constantly yammering away. Yes, there is that voice in our head, and it embodies critical voices, very often inherited from parents or other people. I mean, the ego is very useful. It gets a lot done. It got my book done. It gets your podcast done. So we shouldn’t be too critical of it. On the other hand, when we transcend the self, we connect to things larger than ourselves. And this is one of the beautiful things about psychedelics — when they work, there is this sense of dissolution of self. The walls come down, and you feel part of nature. You feel love. I had an experience I describe in the book of self-dissolution where I merged with this piece of music, this Bach cello suite, and it was such a profound experience because the subject-object split went away and I was identical to this music. The interesting thing, though, is that consciousness doesn’t go away when the ego goes away. We protect our ego because we’re afraid if we lose it, we’re dead. But we’re not. It’s just one voice. There’s a lot else going on, as you learn when you meditate and use psychedelics.
How often do you do psychedelics? Not very often at all. It’s hard to find time. It’s a big day with a lot of preparation and everything. If I can do it once a year, I’m happy. What I’m talking about is ideally a guided experience. You can let yourself go when someone’s watching your body. So when I can put myself in that situation — which isn’t easy to do, and it’s expensive — I find that very valuable. I’m still learning things.
What are you learning? Oh, every psychedelic experience is different. You never go back to the same place. That’s why I think it’s a great thing to do on or around your birthday, to sort of take stock of your reality and what the issues are. I had an experience not too long ago that kind of rocked me.
What was it? It was a guided trip on — it doesn’t matter what it was on. I had these powerful emotions that had no name. They were like these giant blimps crashing into me, crashing into each other, and I was straining and so frustrated that I didn’t know what they were, and the answer never came clear during the experience. Oddly enough, the answer to what they were came two weeks later when I happened to be at a meditation retreat. The links between psychedelics and meditation are very fruitful and interesting. I was doing a walking meditation after a couple days of complete silence, 12-hour-a-day meditating, and there were the blimps. In sans serif letters, right on the blimp, was the word “fear.” I quickly realized what it was. It was fear of losing something very close to you. So the combination of two experiences ended up being very productive. But on its own, the psychedelic experience raised more questions than gave answers.
Questions of consciousness, which are really questions about what makes us us, are some of the most important questions that can be asked. But at the same time, they can lead into other questions like: Is there some David — some stable “I” — that exists or not? Or what is the relationship between free will and consciousness? Sometimes thinking about those questions can be destabilizing. Is that just me? Do you have similar apprehensions? It can be destabilizing, absolutely. One of the reasons people are happy to be less conscious and fill their attention with distractions and drugs is because the mind can be a scary place to visit. We often want to be less aware of what’s going on. There are reasons people avoid going down these rabbit holes. It takes a willingness to risk something.
I apologize if this seems like a woo-woo question, but do you think the absence of something like a stable “self” also means the absence of something like a soul? Do you believe in a soul? Well, if a soul is something that is indestructible and survives our death, no. But I can’t say anything about the afterlife with confidence. Consciousness has become our secular substitute for the soul; we talk about consciousness the way people in the 16th or 17th century talked about souls. Some people’s interest in it is the fact that it floats free of these mortal bodies and maybe gets folded into a collective consciousness after we’re gone. So I think there is a hidden religiosity or spirituality in the whole conversation around consciousness. Somebody asked me recently, Do you think as people get older, they are more interested in consciousness? And I would say yes, and probably for that reason.
It does seem that many of us have consistencies to ourselves that are a little hard to explain in the absence of something like a stable identity or a soul. In the new book, you mention a period in your teenage years when you were reading Hermann Hesse, writing bad poetry and thinking about the big questions. I don’t know if you still write bad poetry, but the other two things don’t seem that far away from what you’re now doing in your 70s. So what might explain what seem like intrinsic core qualities that are constant for you through time if not a stable self-identity or a soul? Even though I talk a lot about this idea that maybe the self is an illusion, it still has a conventional reality. The fact that I’m using myself to talk to yourself makes this very easy. If neither of us had selves right now, it would be a very loosey-goosey conversation. I can’t even imagine what it would be like. Matthieu Ricard said: It’s like a river has a name, and that conventional name is very useful, but there’s nothing consistent there. It’s just water passing.
I brought something like this up earlier, but I want to ask another version of it. This morning I was reading the news and thinking, Gosh, right now, is talking to Michael Pollan about consciousness a kind of “how many angels can dance on the head of a pin” conversation? I decided the answer is no, but do you ever have those doubts? I did at various points when I was starting on this book and the world was starting to fall apart. Like, is this how I should be using my energy? But I think that consciousness is at stake in a lot of what’s going on. One of the things Trump has done is occupy a significant chunk of our attention every single day. Our consciousness is being polluted, and protecting ourselves against that at the same time we preserve the ability to act politically is a difficult balancing act. Consciousness is a very precious realm. It’s the realm of our privacy and our freedom to think. So I think we need some kind of consciousness hygiene, particularly at this moment, where this one politician has figured out ways to command our attention. Consciousness is more relevant now than it even was 10 or 20 years ago, as something to think about, protect and nurture.
This interview has been edited and condensed from two conversations. Listen to and follow “The Interview” on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, iHeartRadio, or Amazon Music. David Marchese is a writer and co-host of The Interview, a regular series featuring influential people across culture, politics, business, sports and beyond in the New York Times.
Peace LiLy 