Category: Philosophy

How I Quit Smoking After 20+ Years — Thanks to the Buddha Dharma of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

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During my school days, I unknowingly picked up the bad habit of smoking. After entering the workforce as a designer, the nature of my job required prolonged thinking, which led me to smoke incessantly. Sometimes, I would smoke over 60 cigarettes a day, staining my fingers a light yellow. The smell of tobacco lingered on my hands, and even when I brought them close to my nose, I could still sense the scent. Despite knowing how harmful smoking was to my health, I simply couldn’t quit.

I always felt that smoking was a form of enjoyment. Being frugal, I would smoke cheaper cigarettes when alone and keep a better pack for social occasions. Smoking also came with a significant financial cost. In my early working years, money was tight, and I couldn’t always afford cigarettes. Often, I bought just one or two loose cigarettes. Sometimes, I would smoke a cigarette in multiple sittings—lighting it, taking a couple of puffs, extinguishing it, and repeating the process. When I had no cigarettes, I would secretly pick up discarded cigarette butts to smoke. Occasionally, I even picked up others’ cigarette butts—how miserable it was just to satisfy my smoking habit! Even now, an old classmate of mine still teases me about how, back in the day, I would visit him for a meal when I was broke. After eating, I would crave a cigarette and would blurt out, “A cigarette after a meal is better than being an immortal!” This classmate, who never smoked, still brings up this incident to mock me.

Later on, although I could afford cigarettes, I knew deep down that smoking was not a good thing. The numerous “No Smoking” signs everywhere made it clear that smoking was frowned upon. I couldn’t smoke freely in public and had to step outside no-smoking areas when I couldn’t resist the urge. Even at home, I couldn’t smoke at ease. To avoid annoying my family and exposing them to secondhand smoke, I had to hide away on the balcony to smoke. This furtive way of smoking made me feel like a thief, carrying a constant sense of guilt.

“You’re just taking a puff of smoke into your lungs and then exhaling it—what’s the point?” My wife often said this to me. She was right; there was no real meaning to it. I was spending money to harm my own health. So, I made up my mind to quit smoking!

However, quitting a habit cultivated over twenty years was no easy task. I tried every quitting method I heard of—keeping snacks in my pocket to replace cigarettes, writing a quit-smoking journal, telling people I was quitting so they could hold me accountable, and even just holding a cigarette without lighting it. I experimented with all these strategies. At best, I lasted four or five days; my longest attempt lasted three to four months. But I always ended up relapsing. Every time I finished a cigarette, I immediately regretted it and resolved to quit again. This cycle repeated endlessly—I quit, then smoked again, and then quit again. I both hated and loved smoking. I wanted to quit but just couldn’t. Quitting smoking was truly not easy.

After so many failed attempts, no one believed I could do it anymore. People would just smile knowingly when I mentioned quitting, and even I lost hope in myself. But then, due to an extraordinarily auspicious connection, I encountered the Buddha Dharma as taught by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, who is no different from Shakyamuni Buddha. This profoundly touched my heart. I realized that this bad habit was leading me toward degeneration, so I firmly resolved to quit smoking.

I started using the money I would have spent on cigarettes to buy fruits as offerings to the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, increasing my merits. Sometimes, I used it to release captive animals or to show filial respect to my parents. This time, quitting smoking felt surprisingly effortless. My wife was amazed and praised the power of Buddha Dharma, marveling at how I had truly succeeded in quitting.

Once, a Dharma brother was setting up a Buddhist shrine in his factory. A highly virtuous master traveled from afar to lead the ceremony. More than thirty of us gathered to celebrate, and everything was prepared—except that we couldn’t find a lighter to light the lamps. No one in the group smoked, so no one had a lighter. Eventually, someone had to step outside to borrow one. At that moment, I was struck by how remarkable Buddhist disciples were—out of so many people, not a single one smoked. I thought, Surely, many of them, like me, must have quit smoking. When I asked a fellow practitioner if he had a lighter, he just smiled knowingly and shook his head.

After quitting smoking, I no longer coughed or felt nauseous when brushing my teeth in the morning. I felt lighter, both physically and mentally. However, the habit formed over nearly thirty years didn’t just disappear overnight. For a long time—sometimes even one or two years later—after dinner, I would pace back and forth on the balcony, feeling like I was supposed to be doing something but not knowing what. Only after thinking for a while would I realize, Oh! It’s the old smoking habit. This proved just how difficult it is to break ingrained habits. Truly, “A leopard cannot change its spots.”

Yet, after much effort, I finally broke the long-standing smoking habit. I realized that smoking was simply a habit, and not smoking was also a habit. H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III teaches: “All phenomena become natural through habit.” That is why we must be cautious not to develop bad habits, as they can easily become ingrained. Instead, we should cultivate good habits, no matter how small, and continue to practice them.

After I quit smoking, my old friends were impressed: “You have incredible willpower!” “You’re so determined!” Receiving praise naturally felt good—much better than being criticized. I would joyfully reply, “Yes, I quit! I know this was the power of Buddha Dharma.”

Indeed, life is like a puff of smoke—it quickly vanishes into thin air. No matter how enjoyable, it is nothing more than fleeting mist. Only by maintaining good health can we have a future. Now, whenever I hold a cigarette in my hand, I smile at my past ignorance and feel grateful for my present success.

Today, as I embark on a new journey, how could I ever harm myself again? I shall light an eternal lamp in my heart, illuminating the path of my Buddhist practice with the radiant light of wisdom.

Written by: Ming Xun
Edited by: Bodhi Seed & Others

How I Quit Smoking After 20+ Years — Thanks to the Buddha Dharma of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

Link: https://dharma-hhdorjechangbuddhaiii.org/how-i-quit-smoking-after-20-years-thanks-to-the-buddha-dharma-of-h-h-dorje-chang-buddha-iii/

#DorjeChangBuddhaIII #HHDorjeChangBuddhaIII #Buddha #Dharma #BuddhaDharma #QuitSmoking #Smoking

The Weight of Words: A Story That Reminds Us to Speak Wisely

linda changLeave a comment

Once upon a time in a small village, an old man spread a rumor that his neighbor was a thief. The accusation quickly circulated, and the young man was arrested. However, after a thorough investigation, the truth emerged—the young man was innocent. Though he was released, the damage had already been done. As he walked home, shame and humiliation clung to him like a heavy shadow. In pain and frustration, he took the old man to court for defamation.

In court, the old man defended himself, saying, “They were just comments. I didn’t mean any real harm.”

The judge paused and then said, “Before I pass judgment, I want you to do something. Write down everything you said about this young man on a piece of paper. Then cut the paper into small pieces, and on your way home, scatter them to the wind. Tomorrow, return for your sentence.”

The old man did as he was told. The next day, he stood before the judge once again.

“Before I deliver your sentence,” the judge said, “go out and gather every piece of paper you threw away yesterday.”

“But that’s impossible!” the old man protested. “The wind has carried them far and wide—I’ll never be able to get them all back.”

The judge nodded gravely. “Exactly. Just like those pieces of paper, your careless words have been scattered beyond recall. A few simple comments have the power to destroy a person’s honor and reputation—damage that can be nearly impossible to undo.”

The old man bowed his head in shame and asked for forgiveness.

This story speaks to a deep truth: our words, once spoken, can never be fully taken back.

Benjamin Franklin once said, “Fool’s hearts are in their mouths; wise men’s mouths are in their hearts.” These timeless words caution us against speaking recklessly. A wise person thinks carefully before they speak—choosing words with care, filtering emotion through understanding, and weighing their potential impact. Such restraint not only prevents misunderstandings and harm but also reflects emotional maturity and compassion.

Think more. Speak less.

In Buddhist teachings, this idea is beautifully echoed through the precepts on right speech. Practitioners are taught to be mindful of their word karma and to avoid four kinds of harmful speech:

  1. Lying
  2. Harsh speech
  3. Divisive speech
  4. Idle chatter

Each of these can sow seeds of suffering—for others and for ourselves.

Let’s remind ourselves daily: Be the master of your mouth, so you’re not a slave to your words.

Gossip can be more damaging than theft—it steals a person’s dignity, honor, and credibility, none of which are easy, or even possible, to restore. A wise saying puts it well: “When your feet slip, you can recover your balance. But when your tongue slips, you can never recover your words.”

Let us choose silence over harm, kindness over carelessness, and wisdom over impulse. Because our words, like our actions, carry the power to build—or break—the world around us.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/04/24/the-weight-of-words-a-story-that-reminds-us-to-speak-wisely/

Psychoenergetic Science: A Second Coperican-Scale Revolution

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Dr. Tiller, a professor emeritus of materials science and engineering at Stanford University, tells us that “the term Psychoenergetics[1] was coined by the Russians in the Soviet era or 1950-1970. This was done to provide a strongly materialistic flavor to the fields of parapsychology and spiritual-related phenomena in order to make research in these areas palatable to the communist party’s worldview.” Dr. Tiller started his work to find a rigorous framework for scientifically understanding this class of phenomena during this period and until the present time.

He expanded on Einstein’s revolutionary work in this area even expanding Einstein’s famous E=mc2 to incorporate the evolutionary concept of consciousness. He even devised formulae, based upon careful experimental research, that link “subtle energies” to those of mainstream science and which expand the present-day formation of quantum mechanics. He noted that there “…was a class of truly weird phenomena that had been visible for more than a century and was somehow related to various processes associated with the application of human consciousness in our world. On the other hand, there still exists today, a very long-held, underlying assumption of conventional science that ‘No human qualities of consciousness, intention, emotion, mind or spirit can significantly influence a well-designed target experiment in physical reality.’ Something is very wrong here!”

He noted that “…the first Copernican revolution of thought lifted humanity from an earth-centric, theocratic-inspired, model of our solar system, which was largely qualitative in terms of details, to a local solar system which was sun-centered.” This, in turn, with the contribution of Galileo, Newton, and others, expanded our world-view and provided the framework for the great technological advancements of our modern era. He also provided his intuitive hypothesis on the link of our physical reality within the context of our higher [or spiritual] dimensional nature”…that this new, second Copernican-type revolution will, in terms of scale, be at least as significant for the progress of humankind as the first one!”

Not all scientists are there yet, or even close, but this beginning is hopeful. Much of what he writes is vastly beyond my capacity to absorb and, frankly, my interest. However, I believe that it is very relevant to our practice and is consistent with the teachings of the Buddha, albeit in a different language and perspective and with a different goal although Dr. Tiller holds that the underlying principle of all is “love.” You may ask how I can talk of dragons and yidams and all sorts of strange things and still be interested in science? I know a very bright young man, who was brought up as a religion-scorning communist, who thought that monks were parasites of the people and begrudged the donations his pious mother gave them. After several business failures, he took some time off to reflect on what had gone wrong in his life and started reading books by some on his favorite scientists and mathematicians. At the end of one such work, a scientist whom he admired greatly, said something after explaining an evolved scientific finding, “Of course, the Buddha told us all of this over 2,500 years ago.” He then decided to reconsider the works of the Buddha and is now a great master as well as a successful scientist. I too believe that science will eventually catch up with the Buddha or at least come closer to explaining what is now unkown and mysterious and the world will be better for it. I also believe that like unlocking the power of the atom through the work of Einstein et al came with great risks and potential for disaster, likewise our research into consciousness and our higher natures must be based in the evolution of our character. Correct Cultivation is essential on so many levels.

[1]   Psychoenergetic Science relates to the relationship between human consciousness and subtle energy.

The Farmer of the Mind: Cultivating Mastery Over Thought

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The Farmer of the Mind: Cultivating Mastery Over Thought

I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying at Sāvatthī, in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapinḍika’s monastery. It was the rainy season, and the forest hummed with the soft patter of raindrops falling upon leaves. The scent of wet earth filled the air, and a gentle mist curled around the trees.

A great assembly of monks had gathered, their saffron robes glowing in the dim light of dawn. They sat in deep silence, their hands folded in reverence, awaiting the Blessed One’s words. He gazed upon them, his serene face illuminated by the morning light, and addressed them:

“Monks!”

“Yes, lord,” the monks replied in unison.

The Blessed One spoke:

“When a monk is intent on the heightened mind, there are five themes he should attend to at appropriate times. Which five?

“There is the case where evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion, or delusion—arise in a monk while he is referring to and attending to a particular theme. He should attend to another theme, apart from that one, connected with what is skillful. As he does so, those unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it.

“But if those thoughts persist, he should reflect on their drawbacks: ‘These thoughts lead to suffering. They darken the mind. They are thorns in the path of peace.’ Just as a traveler carrying a heavy sack realizes that dropping the burden brings relief, so too should the monk see how abandoning unwholesome thoughts brings lightness to the heart.

“If even then the thoughts persist, he should withdraw his attention—he should give them no mind. As a man walking through a marketplace ignores the clamor of voices around him and focuses only on his path, so too should the monk disregard the noise of unwholesome thoughts.

“If they still do not subside, he should attend to the relaxing of thought-fabrication, gently calming the movement of the mind. Just as a potter, shaping a vessel, slows the turning of his wheel to smooth its edges, so too does the wise monk soften the momentum of thought, guiding it toward stillness.

“And finally, should all else fail, he should take up the final method—firm and resolute. With teeth clenched and tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, he should subdue the mind with force, constraining and crushing the unwholesome impulses with clear awareness, as a strong man might subdue a wild beast.

The Parable of the Two Farmers

The Blessed One paused, then continued:

“Monks, this is like two farmers who inherited the same land.

“One farmer was negligent and careless. He did not prepare his field properly. He let weeds grow alongside the crops, believing they would not harm the harvest. When pests came, he did not chase them away, thinking they would leave on their own. When the sun was too hot, he cursed the sky but did not shade his plants. And when the rains came, he lamented his ruined field but had done nothing to build proper irrigation.

“In the end, his harvest was meager, his efforts wasted. He blamed the land, the weather, and misfortune, but never did he see that it was his own negligence that had led to his failure.

“The other farmer was diligent and wise. He knew the land required effort. He removed the weeds as soon as they sprouted, before their roots took hold. When pests arrived, he drove them away with patience and care. If the sun was too harsh, he adjusted his crops and provided shade. When the rains came, he had already prepared the channels to guide the water where it was needed.

“In the end, his harvest was abundant, his granaries full. When asked the secret to his success, he simply smiled and said, ‘I cared for my field, and in return, it cared for me.’

“Monks, the untrained mind is like the lazy farmer’s field—overrun by weeds of desire, pests of aversion, and floods of delusion. But the well-trained mind is like the diligent farmer’s field—protected, cultivated, and yielding the fruits of wisdom.

“Just as the wise farmer does not despair when weeds appear but instead removes them skillfully, so too should you train your minds.

“Do not be disheartened when unskillful thoughts arise. Attend to them wisely, knowing that a well-tended mind, like a well-tended field, leads to a bountiful harvest—peace, clarity, and liberation.

The Power of a Well-Trained Mind

The Blessed One looked over the assembly and continued:

“Monks, you may ask, ‘What is the fruit of a well-trained mind?’ I will tell you.

“It is like a still lake in the heart of the forest. The surface is clear and unmoving, reflecting the moon and the stars without distortion. When an animal approaches to drink, it sees its own reflection perfectly. In such a lake, the sky, the trees, and the mountains appear as they are, undisturbed.

“But an untrained mind is like a lake constantly churned by the wind. Its waters are muddy, and no reflection can be seen. Even if the stars shine above, they are lost in the restless movement of the waves.

“When a monk, by these five methods, steadies his mind, unifies it, and concentrates it, he becomes a master of thought sequences. He thinks only what he chooses to think, and does not think what he does not. He has broken the bonds of craving and aversion. He has seen through conceit, and with right view, has reached the end of suffering and stress.

“Monks, train yourselves well. Be like the diligent farmer. Master the field of your own mind. Be like the still lake, where truth is seen clearly. For in doing so, you will not only benefit yourselves but all beings who come into your presence.”

The Awakening of the Monks

As the Blessed One spoke, a great stillness settled over the gathering. Some monks felt their minds clear as if a veil had been lifted. Others, who had struggled with restless thoughts, felt their burdens lighten. Among them was a young monk who had long battled with doubt.

That night, he sat beneath a great tree, reflecting on the Blessed One’s words. He thought of the two farmers and saw himself in the lazy one. But now, he resolved to change. He would uproot his weeds, guard his field, and let no impurity take hold.

With renewed determination, he entered deep meditation. As the night passed, his mind grew still, and as the first light of dawn touched the horizon, insight arose within him. He saw the nature of thought, the impermanence of all things, and in that moment, a great joy filled his heart.

The next morning, when the monks gathered once more before the Blessed One, the young monk stepped forward, bowed deeply, and said, “Lord, the field of my mind is now tended. The weeds are gone. The path is clear.”

The Blessed One smiled, his eyes filled with knowing. “Then, monk, walk that path with diligence. For now, you have truly begun.”

That is what the Blessed One said. Deeply inspired, the monks rejoiced in the words of the Blessed One, and many resolved then and there to train with renewed vigor, knowing that mastery over the mind was the key to liberation.

Link: https://wisdomtea.org/2025/04/03/the-farmer-of-the-mind-cultivating-mastery-over-thought/

A Life Well-Loved: Finding Strength in Softness and Wisdom in Time

linda changLeave a comment

After more than fifty years of experiencing life’s ups and downs, I have finally come to understand the profound importance of quieting down, reflecting, and learning how to truly love myself. It is only through self-love that we can genuinely love others.

“When I truly began to love myself, I started going to bed earlier and learned to enjoy exercise. I stopped getting lost in worries and anxieties. Instead, I became confident and pursued meaningful people and endeavors with passion. That was the moment my life truly began.”

Understanding another person is never easy. We must walk in their shoes, see the world through their eyes, and consider life from their perspective. Yet, this journey often brings sadness. But in that sadness, we discover clarity—we learn to focus on what truly matters.

Rather than wasting our time on trivial concerns and unfulfilling distractions, we should devote ourselves to nourishing pursuits: sleep, books, exercise, the beauty of nature, and, above all, the love we have for the world. When we consciously take control of our time, the tranquility of daily life emerges naturally, and anxiety fades away.

Kahlil Gibran once said, “If one day you stop searching for love and simply love; stop yearning for success and just do; stop pursuing empty growth and begin to cultivate your character, then your life will truly begin.” This wisdom reminds us that authentic living starts with our inner transformation.

Loving yourself means understanding that pain and emotional turmoil are often just reminders to live authentically. Unless it stems from physical illness, much of our suffering comes from misplaced values rather than objective reality. The things we cling to the most are often the very things that torment us, while those beyond our control are simply not worth our distress. True wisdom lies in knowing when to hold on and when to let go.

To be nurtured by others is a gift; to nurture others is an even greater act of cultivation.

May we have eyes that shine like stars, hearts as vast as the ocean, and lives that leave behind the fragrance of kindness wherever we go.

The Wisdom of Middle Age

Middle age teaches us the value of patience, restraint, and measured action. In our youth, we often equate eloquence with intelligence, only to later realize that true wisdom often lies in silence. As W. Somerset Maugham observed, “In a crowd, the quietest person is often the most powerful.”

In conversations, we should not rush to take center stage. Instead, we should listen more and speak less, exercising the grace of restraint. When others share, let us resist the urge to interrupt. When disagreements arise, let us not hastily refute. Instead of saying, “I think,” we can ask, “What do you think?” Instead of declaring, “You are wrong,” we can offer, “Perhaps there is another way to see this.” By replacing subjective judgment with open-minded awareness, we foster deeper understanding.

The world is not simply black and white. By speaking a beat slower and thinking a step faster, we cultivate clarity and wisdom in our lives.

In psychology, there is a concept called task separation: our emotions are our responsibility, while others’ reactions belong to them. The wisdom of softness lies in maintaining a gentle boundary between the two. It allows us to be vulnerable and to accept imperfection in ourselves and others. Harsh confrontation often leads to conflict, but a simple, “I understand your difficulties,” can resolve tensions effortlessly. As Alfred Adler wisely said, “True strength lies in the courage to expose one’s vulnerabilities.”

Try shifting from “I must win” to “We can solve this together.” Instead of “Why don’t you understand me?” consider, “Perhaps I need to express myself differently.” Softness is not weakness—it is a space that allows relationships to breathe and grow.

Kazuo Inamori once said, “What you hold in your heart is what you will encounter.” True generosity is not about calculated acts of kindness but instinctive goodwill. A small gesture—carrying a neighbor’s trash, offering a sincere compliment, or leaving a light on for a loved one—creates ripples that spread far beyond our immediate reach.

A generous heart does not tally whether kindness is repaid. As the Tao Te Ching states, “The more you give to others, the more you have yourself.” Every act of warmth we extend ultimately enriches our own lives.

As we journey through middle age, wisdom is cultivated through restraint. In youth, we may be like strong liquor—bold and fiery; with time, we become like fine tea—subtle yet deeply enriching. Speaking slowly allows us to reflect, gentleness fosters harmonious relationships, and generosity ensures lasting blessings.

These qualities of slow cultivation cannot be rushed or feigned. But with daily practice and yearly dedication, we will come to embody the depth of the old adage: “Still waters run deep.”

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/04/02/a-life-well-loved-finding-strength-in-softness-and-wisdom-in-time/

How Einstein Reconciled Religion to Science

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This outstanding article by Brian Gallagher, published in Nautilus, provides deeper insight into Albert Einstein’s views on religion and science.

Not long ago, I heard an echo of Albert Einstein’s religious views in the words of Elon Musk. Asked, at the close of a conversation with Axios, whether he believed in God, the CEO of both SpaceX and Tesla paused, looked away from his interlocutors for a brief second, and then said, in that mild South African accent, “I believe there’s some explanation for this universe, which you might call God.”

Einstein did call it God. The German-Jewish physicist is famous for many things—his special and general theories of relativity, his burst of gray-white hair—including his esoteric remark, often intoned in discussions of the strange, probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics, that “God does not play dice.” A final or ultimate equation, describing the laws of nature and the origin of the cosmos, Einstein believed, could not involve chance intrinsically. Insofar as it did—it being the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics—it would be incomplete. (The consensus now among physicists is that he was wrong; God is indeterminate. ‘All the evidence points to him being an inveterate gambler,’ Stephen Hawking once said, ‘who throws the dice on every possible occasion.’)

But what was with Einstein’s God-language in the first place? The question may be considered anew, in light of an auction at Christie’s, in New York, of a 1954 letter Einstein wrote that a couple years ago unexpectedly sold for $2.9 million. For the occasion the Princeton Club hosted a panel discussion on the conflict, or lack thereof, between science and religion, which featured theoretical physicist Brian Greene, philosopher Rebecca Newberger Goldstein, cognitive psychologist Tania Lombrozo, and Rabbi Geoff Mitelman, founding director of Sinai and Synapses, an organization dedicated to fostering respectful dialogue about religion and science. The event was open to the public, and I was excited to attend. (Full disclosure: At the time I was a Sinai and Synapses fellow.) I believe Einstein can still offer some insight on how to think about religion and science.

“I believe in Spinoza’s God, who reveals himself in the lawful harmony of the world, not in a God who concerns himself with the fate and the doings of mankind.”

What Einstein said, in a note to the philosopher Eric Gutkind, whose book Choose Life: The Biblical Call to Revolt Einstein was reviewing, was nearly as scathing as any contemporary critique of religion you might hear from Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, or Christopher Hitchens. ‘The word God is for me,’ Einstein wrote, ‘nothing more than the expression and product of human weakness, the Bible a collection of honorable, but still purely primitive, legends. No interpretation, no matter how subtle, can change this for me.’

It is no wonder why, for decades, Einstein’s views on religion became muddled in the popular imagination: The inconsistency is clear. Here, God means one thing; over there, another. Just going off his letter to Gutkind, Einstein appears to be an atheist. But read Einstein in other places and you find him directly declaring that he is not one. “I am not an Atheist,” he said in an interview published in 1930. ‘I do not know if I can define myself as a Pantheist. The problem involved is too vast for our limited minds.’ Einstein was asked whether he was a pantheist. The rest of his response is worth quoting in full:

“May I not reply with a parable? The human mind, no matter how highly trained, cannot grasp the universe. We are in the position of a little child, entering a huge library whose walls are covered to the ceiling with books in many different tongues. The child knows that someone must have written those books. It does not know who or how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. The child notes a definite plan in the arrangement of the books, a mysterious order, which it does not comprehend, but only dimly suspects. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of the human mind, even the greatest and most cultured, toward God. We see a universe marvellously arranged, obeying certain laws, but we understand the laws only dimly. Our limited minds cannot grasp the mysterious force that sways the constellations. I am fascinated by Spinoza’s Pantheism. I admire even more his contributions to modern thought. Spinoza is the greatest of modern philosophers, because he is the first philosopher who deals with the soul and the body as one, not as two separate things.

Benedict Spinoza, the 17th century Jewish-Dutch philosopher, was also in his day confused for an atheist for writing things like this, from his treatise Ethics: ‘All things, I say, are in God, and everything which takes place takes place by the laws alone of the infinite nature of God, and follows (as I shall presently show) from the necessity of His essence.’

In 1929, Einstein received a telegram inquiring about his belief in God from a New York rabbi named Herbert Goldstein, who had heard a Boston cardinal say that the physicist’s theory of relativity implies “the ghastly apparition of atheism.’Einstein settled Goldstein down. “I believe in Spinoza’s God, who reveals himself in the lawful harmony of the world,’ he told him, ‘not in a God who concerns himself with the fate and the doings of mankind.’

What that amounted to for Einstein, according to a 2006 paper, was a ‘cosmic religious feeling’ that required no ‘anthropomorphic conception of God.’ He explained this view in the New York Times Magazine: ‘The religious geniuses of all ages have been distinguished by this kind of religious feeling, which knows no dogma and no God conceived in man’s image; so that there can be no church whose central teachings are based on it. Hence it is precisely among the heretics of every age that we find men who were filled with this highest kind of religious feeling and were in many cases regarded by their contemporaries as atheists, sometimes also as saints. Looked at in this light, men like Democritus, Francis of Assisi, and Spinoza are closely akin to one another.’

So, as Einstein would have it, there is no necessary conflict between science and religion—or between science and ‘religious feelings.’

Brian Gallagher is an associate editor at Nautilus. Follow him on Twitter @bsgallagher.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/04/01/how-einstein-reconciled-religion-to-science/

Vimalakirti’s Profound Teachings on Suffering and Liberation

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The Profound Wisdom of the Holy Buddha Vimalakirti

The Vimalakirti Sutra stands as one of the most profound texts in Mahayana Buddhism, offering deep insight into wisdom, compassion, and the nature of illness. One of its most significant sections, the “Chapter on Illness,” presents a powerful dialogue between Manjushri and Vimalakirti, a lay Bodhisattva of extraordinary realization.

Vimalakirti, despite his unparalleled wisdom, feigns illness to teach a vital lesson. When Manjushri visits him and asks, “Aren’t you successful in your practice? If so, how can you be ill?” Vimalakirti responds, “I am ill because all sentient beings are ill.” This response redefines illness—not as a personal affliction but as an expression of universal suffering. His illness is a manifestation of his boundless compassion, mirroring the pain of all beings so that he may guide them toward liberation.

Manjushri Bodhisattva and other disciples visiting H.H. Vimalakirti

The dialogue between Vimalakirti and Manjushri unfolds into a deeper contemplation on suffering. When asked when his illness will be cured, Vimalakirti replies, “When the last sentient being is free from illness, then my illness will be cured.” This statement embodies the heart of Mahayana Buddhism—the vow to attain enlightenment not for oneself alone but for all beings. His words resonate with the self-sacrificial love found in other spiritual traditions, such as Jesus Christ’s willingness to bear humanity’s suffering.

Vimalakirti further explains, “From ignorance comes love, and thus my illness arises.” He reveals that suffering stems from attachment—attachment to family, possessions, ambitions, and even spiritual practice. Such attachments cloud the mind, giving rise to suffering. True liberation, he teaches, comes from transcending these attachments through wisdom and compassion.

The holy and venerable Vimalakirti is unique in Buddhist history, as he was an ancient Buddha who chose to manifest as a layperson rather than an ordained monk. During the time of Shakyamuni Buddha, he played a crucial role in teaching monastics and Bodhisattvas who struggled to develop Mahayana bodhicitta. His unparalleled wisdom and skillful means helped bridge the gap between monastic and lay practitioners, proving that profound realization is not limited to those in monastic robes.

In reality, Vimalakirti was the incarnation of the supreme Buddha Dorje Chang (Vajradhara), the primordial Buddha and master of all Buddhas. Yet, instead of taking a leadership role that might have caused sectarian divisions, he humbly chose to serve as a Bodhisattva assisting Shakyamuni Buddha. His teachings, recorded in the Vimalakirti-nirdesa Sutra, are regarded as sutras in their own right, carrying the weight of authentic Buddha-dharma.

The depth of Vimalakirti’s wisdom was so vast that even the most accomplished Bodhisattvas hesitated to engage him in dialogue. When Shakyamuni Buddha asked Maitreya Bodhisattva to inquire about Vimalakirti’s health, Maitreya declined, admitting that Vimalakirti had once humbled him with his superior insight. Ultimately, only Manjushri, the ancient Buddha and master of the seven Buddhas, dared to engage Vimalakirti in discourse.

Chinese Ink painting Holy Master Vimalakirti by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

Vimalakirti’s teachings were not limited to words alone—he also demonstrated his supreme realization through extraordinary miracles. In one instance, he used his boundless supernatural powers to bring the entire Buddha-land of Abhirati, including the Immovable Buddha (Aksobhya), into the human realm. Even the Immovable Buddha himself declared, “I did not do this; it was through the supernatural powers of Vimalakirti.” Such feats reveal that Vimalakirti’s realization surpassed that of all Bodhisattvas and was equal to that of Shakyamuni Buddha himself.

Shakyamuni Buddha himself affirmed the extraordinary status of Vimalakirti, stating, “One who makes offerings to that holy being should know that this is making offerings to the Buddhas. One who transcribes this sutra or keeps it in a room should know that the Tathagata exists in that room.” These words confirm that Vimalakirti was, in essence, a Buddha.

His teachings continue to inspire practitioners today, offering a profound perspective on suffering, wisdom, and compassion. His willingness to manifest illness as a teaching tool, his unparalleled debates with great Bodhisattvas, and his supernatural demonstrations all serve as timeless lessons in the path to enlightenment.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/03/28/vimalakirtis-profound-teachings-on-suffering-and-liberation/

Exploring the Concept of Size in Buddhism: Mount Sumeru and the Mustard Seed

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In the realm of Buddhist philosophy, the imagery of Mount Sumeru and the mustard seed serves as a profound metaphor for understanding the nature of reality and perception. Originally a mountain in Indian mythology, Mount Sumeru is revered in Buddhism as the dwelling place of celestial beings like Indra and the Four Heavenly Kings. Standing at an astonishing height of 84,000 yojanas, it symbolizes the vastness and grandeur of existence. In contrast, the mustard seed, a tiny grain often used in culinary practices, represents the minuscule aspects of life.

This juxtaposition is beautifully illustrated in a dialogue between Li Bo, a governor of Jiangzhou during the Tang Dynasty, and the Zen master Zhi Chang. Li Bo questioned the seemingly paradoxical notion found in Buddhist texts that “Mount Sumeru can fit within a mustard seed, and a mustard seed can contain Mount Sumeru.” He found it hard to believe that such a small seed could encompass such a towering mountain.

With a smile, Zhi Chang responded by asking, “People say you have read thousands of books; is that true?” Proudly, Li Bo affirmed, “Of course! I have read far more than that!”

Zhi Chang then inquired, “And where are those thousands of books now?”

Li Bo pointed to his head and replied, “They are all right here!”

Zhi Chang chuckled and said, “Strange, then. Your head seems no bigger than a coconut; how could it possibly hold thousands of books?”

At that moment, Li Bo experienced a profound realization: the distinctions of large and small are mere constructs of the mind. In reality, size is subjective and arises from our perceptions.

This concept resonates deeply with modern science, which demonstrates that vast amounts of knowledge can be stored within a minuscule chip, echoing the Buddhist teaching that the universe can be contained within the smallest of objects.

The English poet William Blake expressed a similar sentiment in his famous lines:
“To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.”

His words capture the essence of this Buddhist teaching: within the tiniest elements of our world lies the vastness of the infinite.

Ultimately, Buddhist wisdom encourages us to transcend conventional notions of size and reality. When we embrace the idea that the vast can reside within the minute, we cultivate a deeper awareness of the interconnectedness of all things. In this way, Mount Sumeru and the mustard seed serve as powerful reminders of the boundless nature of existence and the limitless potential of the human mind.

In the Āgama Sūtra, there is a remarkable story that illustrates how the merit of a single grain of rice can be as vast as Mount Sumeru.

During the time of the Buddha, a poor couple lived in a crumbling cave with nothing to their name. They were so impoverished that they owned only a single set of clothes, which they had to share. When the husband went out, the wife had to stay home, and when the wife needed to leave, the husband had no choice but to remain inside, barely clothed.

One day, they heard that the Buddha and his disciples were passing through their village on their alms rounds. The couple reflected on their misfortune and said, “We have never practiced generosity, which is why we suffer such poverty today. Now that the Buddha is here, how can we miss this rare opportunity to give?”

However, as they looked around their home, the wife sighed deeply, “But we have nothing to offer…”

The husband, after thinking for a moment, made a firm decision: “No matter what, we must not let this opportunity slip away. Even if we starve, we must make an offering! The only thing we still have of value is this set of clothing—let us give it to the Buddha!”

With hearts full of joy, they humbly presented their only garment as an offering. The disciples, however, hesitated, feeling uneasy about receiving such an item. They passed the garment among themselves, reluctant to accept it, until Ananda finally brought it before the Buddha and asked, “Lord, this garment is too worn to be used. Should we discard it?”

The Buddha, filled with compassion, gently instructed, “My disciples, do not think this way. The generosity of the poor is the most precious of all. Bring the garment to me.”

Feeling ashamed for their earlier hesitation, Ananda and Maudgalyayana took the garment to the river to wash it. But as soon as they immersed it in the water, the entire river surged wildly, waves crashing in all directions. Alarmed, Maudgalyayana used his divine powers to summon Mount Sumeru in an attempt to subdue the turbulent waters. Yet, no matter how he pressed it down, the waves remained uncontrollable.

Helpless, the two disciples rushed back to the Buddha to report what had happened. At that moment, the Buddha was calmly eating his meal. Without saying much, he gently picked up a single grain of rice and handed it to them, saying, “Take this rice grain to the river, and it will settle.”

Perplexed, Ananda asked, “Lord, even the mighty Mount Sumeru couldn’t calm the waves—how can a tiny grain of rice possibly do so?”

The Buddha smiled and said, “Try it and see.”

Still doubtful but obedient, Ananda and Maudgalyayana took the grain of rice and cast it into the river. Miraculously, the raging waters instantly calmed, becoming as still as a mirror.

Shocked by what they had witnessed, the two disciples returned to the Buddha and asked, “How could a single grain of rice hold more power than a mountain?”

The Buddha then explained, “From the moment a grain of rice is planted, it undergoes countless efforts—watering, fertilizing, harvesting, processing, and selling—each step carrying the labor and dedication of many beings. Because of this, a single grain of rice contains immeasurable merit. Likewise, the garment offered by the poor couple was their only possession, their entire livelihood. Their act of giving was boundless in sincerity, making its merit just as vast. The Dragon Kings of the ocean understood the profound virtue behind this offering, which is why they immediately retreated in reverence. This is the power of true devotion—whether a grain of rice or a simple piece of clothing, when given with absolute sincerity, its merit can equal that of Mount Sumeru.”

From this teaching, a well-known Buddhist verse arose to remind monks and practitioners of the sacred nature of even the smallest offering:

“A single grain of rice in the Buddha’s gate,
As vast as Mount Sumeru.
If enlightenment is not attained in this life,
One shall return repaying the debt, bearing horns and fur.”

This verse serves as a powerful reminder that every offering—no matter how small—carries immense significance when given with a pure heart. It also warns practitioners to cherish and respect all acts of generosity, for every grain of rice represents the kindness and labor of countless beings.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/03/21/exploring-the-concept-of-size-in-buddhism-mount-sumeru-and-the-mustard-seed/

Compassion, Responsibility, and the Journey to Death: Rethinking Euthanasia for Our Animal Companions

linda changLeave a comment

Watching a beloved companion waste away, writhe in pain, or cry out in distress is never easy. It is heartbreaking to see a once-vibrant being—one who once leaped over fallen trees, climbed steep inclines, or joyfully bounded through snowy mountains—struggle to stand, only to lose that ability altogether. Dying is a process in which the body gradually ceases to function, and eventually, stops completely. It is neither a pleasant sight nor a pleasant smell, yet it is a natural part of life.

When a human forms a bond with another living being—whether through adoption, inheritance, or as a gift—they take on a profound responsibility. Caring for that being in sickness and health, until death arrives, is part of that commitment. The true tough decision is not to end their life prematurely, but to provide palliative and hospice care, ensuring they are comforted with love and presence in their final days. Accompanying them on their journey to death with compassion—rather than ending their life or outsourcing the act—is the ultimate expression of devotion and responsibility.

Is euthanasia the right choice for an aging and dying pet? Buddhist disciple Dani Tuji Rinpoche reflects on his experiences with his animal companions, sharing insights into their passing and his response to common beliefs about what a Buddhist should do when witnessing the suffering of a beloved animal.

In 2008, my wife Deb and I had a conversation with Zhaxi Zhuoma Rinpoche and Lama Puti about whether euthanasia was a compassionate choice to end an animal companion’s suffering when it seemed unbearable. They explained that ending an animal’s life prematurely denies them the opportunity to work through their karma, potentially leading to a less favorable rebirth. This perspective resonated with me then, and it still does today. It also reframes the way we view our responsibilities toward our animal companions, deepening our understanding of the care and presence we owe them in their final moments.

At this point I want to describe Chaco’s journey.

Chaco came to us as a Wolf-Malamute pup and lived out his life in our care. Magnificent is an inadequate term to try to provide a sense of who he was in this lifetime but he was all that and more. I won’t bore the reader with tales of our adventures in the mountains of northern New Mexico just outside of Taos. Suffice it to say that we ranged far and wide.

I came home one day after a thunderstorm to find Chaco limping. The gate had been opened by Dharma a female heeler that had lived across the street but who had spent most of the time playing with Chaco through the fence. When her humans moved she stayed. She was totally freaked out by thunder, fireworks, etc. and had chewed open chain link fence gates, butted down wooden gates, and more to run free from the thunder. She and Chaco had run free for some time so I thought he might have sprained something.

Chaco loved squeaky toys and playing with Dharma. The poodle cut on his forelegs was for chemo. He died about 5 months later.

After a few days of limping I took Chaco to the vet’s for x-rays. The pain and gimpiness were associated with a tumor that was osteosarcoma. I drove Chaco to Colorado Canine Orthopedics & Rehab in Colorado Springs. A biopsy confirmed the diagnosis and a surgery to remove his left rear leg at the hip was scheduled. The surgery went well and Chaco regained most of his mobility and soon was running with the other dogs.

We knew he would never recover as the cancer had spread to his lungs so we wanted to do everything we could to make him comfortable. We tried chemo but stopped it when there was no sign of improvement.  We enjoyed a few months of fairly normal outdoor activities and then entered the lasts stage, a period where you do things for the last time. At the beginning of this stage you may not be aware that you and your companion are doing something for the last time until you try to do it again and cannot. It becomes a great lesson in being in the moment because now you know that what you are doing may be the last time you ever do it and those activities take on a special meaning. [My perspective is that we never know for sure when we’ll die and so every moment should be lived that way. I’m a long way from being there all the time but some things just seem to demand attention.]

After the lasts comes the slide that carries us all to the same end. Chaco reached the point where his rear leg wasn’t dependable. We tried a wheelchair but that wasn’t appropriate for the circumstances, so we used a sling to support his body while he ambulated with his front legs. He quickly transitioned to wanting to be outside most of the time – he used to sleep in the snow – so we accommodated that. For several weeks Chaco and I would go out into the sage, have long conversations and sleep. When he totally lost his mobility I either dragged a sleeping bag with him on it or carried him.

His last night we were inside and he was lying in Deb’s lap. I went to take a nap and Deb woke me to tell me that Chaco had passed. He died in her arms peacefully, completing that lifetime in the animal realm.

We said mantras and did mudras and then laid him in the grave I had prepared. There is nothing like such an experience to show you how strong attachments can be to others and to self. And if there was difficulty in fearing impermanence this type of event can help you re-examine that subject.

I believed then as I do now that we had done our best for Chaco. I failed miserably with Skanda.

At eight weeks the Brazilian Mastiff puppy weighed 18 pounds. We chose the name Skanda because we thought that he would become the protector for the two remaining dogs, Lyla and Dharma. He grew rapidly, was seriously attached to Deb, and too big and strong for his good. At the beginning of adulthood, he had torn both ACL’s and, due to his size, our vet recommended the repair that Colorado Canine did that involved repositioning his tibial plateau and securing it with a plate and screws. The first operation went so well that the second could be done earlier than expected. Then came about two months of restricted activity and that meant he had to be on leash anytime he was outside. That is easier said than done but we did our best and he made it through his recovery.

Deb and Skanda on the porch of the Jones’ gompa.

Yes, osteosarcoma once more, same prognosis and no surgical option. One problem with osteosarcoma is that once it reveals itself with a tumor it has already spread and all that’s left is to try to make the dying as comfortable as possible.Life with a canine companion that weighs about 170 pounds and is fiercely protective can be challenging. Around Deb Skanda was nothing but a drooling pool of love but any sense that she was in need of protection and the transformation was dramatic. So, we took precautions and adapted. My approach was to treat him as if he had PTSD and to make sure he was shielded from as much of the triggers associated with PTSD as possible. And life was good…until he developed a tumor on his left front leg.

Skanda had a selection of pain meds that helped but after a month or so the pain in his foreleg made walking too difficult. We had added cannabis oil to his regimen and that seemed to help. His decline was fairly rapid: reduced mobility then virtually none; decreased appetite; obvious signs of distress; sleeping most of the day; incontinence. The tumor on his leg increased in size, the leg swelled with edema, his foot swelled until the skin between the toes began to open and his foot began to putrefy. At this point he would only drink a little water and take the CBD oil straight from the dropper. He refused meds, food and then treats. As his foot worsened the conversation turned to euthanasia. Bottom line is that I was weak, our vet came to the house and administered the drugs and Skanda appeared to pass peacefully. His remains were placed near Chaco’s with appropriate ceremony..

In Revealing the Truth, a book written by Shi Zheng Hui about her experiences during the twelve years lived in close proximity to H. H. Dorje Chang Buddha III I read a passage that I hoped might apply to euthanasia. In the passage Jun Ma an elderly Great Dane was taken to hospital for treatment but died that afternoon. In my strong desire to find a way to think that Skanda’s euthanasia might have been alright under the circumstances I contacted H.E. Denma Tsemang Longzhi Rinpoche to ask if the passage in the book meant that Jun Ma had been euthanized. The reply I received reiterated that there were no circumstances that would allow for euthanasia.

During 2018 I provided and Deb participated in hospice and palliative care for both Dharma and Lyla. Dharma created a nesting space in the sage and spent her last days there. Once she settled in she refused food and would only take a little water. She seemed to indicate that she would prefer being left alone so the last two or three days we would check on her and adjust her sun shade. She died with no apparent distress and was buried next to Chaco with appropriate ceremony and ritual.

Several months later Lyla passed away with no indication of distress. I checked on her in the early morning and she was fine then about half an hour later she was dead. She was buried next to her longtime companion Dharma.

The dogs with which we live have all been given a Blue Dharma pill to help them find the Dharma and all have taken refuge. Those that have passed were buried with recitations of The Buddha Speaks of Amitabha Sutra.

There are things to consider when adopting or otherwise finding a new canine companion. Your age, their life expectancy, your physical condition, their size, your life expectancy, their life after your death.

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2025/03/06/compassion-responsibility-and-the-journey-to-death-rethinking-euthanasia-for-our-animal-companions/

source: https://holyvajrasana.org/articles/the-issue-of-euthanasia-for-buddhists-and-the-pets-with-which-they-live

The Sacred Dragon Stone: Manjushri Bodhisattva’s Compassion and the Five Dragon Princess

linda changLeave a comment

Mount Wutai, home to over 53 sacred monasteries, stands as one of the Four Sacred Mountains of Chinese Buddhism. Each of these mountains is regarded as the bodhimaṇḍa of one of the four great bodhisattvas, and Wutai is the sacred domain of Manjushri, the Bodhisattva of Wisdom. Revered since ancient times, Mount Wutai holds a profound spiritual significance, attracting countless pilgrims seeking enlightenment and divine blessings.

Mount Wutai was the first of the four great mountains to be identified and is often referred to as the “First Among the Four Great Mountains.” Due to its unique status, it is also known as “Golden Wutai.” The identification of this sacred site can be traced back to the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, which describes the abodes of many bodhisattvas. In this scripture, Manjushri is said to reside on a “clear cold mountain” in the northeast. This passage not only solidified Wutai’s spiritual identity but also inspired its alternative name, “Clear Cool Mountain.” With an annual average temperature of around -4°C and high-moisture air, the mountain’s name perfectly encapsulates its serene and pure atmosphere.

Legends tell of Manjushri’s frequent appearances on Mount Wutai, often taking the form of ordinary pilgrims, monks, or most notably, five-colored clouds. Among the many tales that surround this sacred land, the story of the Xielong Stone and the Dragon Temple remains one of the most awe-inspiring.

In ancient times, the climate of Mount Wutai was harsh—winters were bitterly cold, and powerful spring winds carried dust and sand, making the land inhospitable. At that time, the mountain was simply known as “Five Peaks Mountain.” Determined to transform Wutai into a haven for spiritual cultivation and to bring blessings to sentient beings, Manjushri sought the mystical Xielong Stone, a sacred gem held by the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea. This stone possessed miraculous powers that could regulate the climate, making the land fertile and serene.

Manjushri traveled to the Dragon Palace and humbly requested the Xielong Stone. However, the Dragon King hesitated, explaining, “This stone was left behind by the goddess Nüwa. It is a resting place for our dragon clan, and we cannot part with it.”

With infinite compassion, Manjushri responded, “I seek this stone to benefit all sentient beings. I hope you, great Dragon King, will fulfill this virtuous karmic connection.”

Although moved by Manjushri’s vow, the Dragon King was reluctant to relinquish the treasured stone. He assumed that even with his great dharma powers, Manjushri would be unable to move it, as it weighed tens of thousands of pounds. Feigning generosity, he said, “Great Bodhisattva, if you can take the stone, you may do so.”

To the Dragon King’s astonishment, Manjushri gently approached the stone, recited a divine mantra, and instantly shrank the massive rock to the size of a marble. With a flick of his sleeve, he stowed it away, bowed to the Dragon King, and effortlessly departed.

The Dragon King, realizing his mistake too late, could only watch in stunned regret.

When the five dragon princes returned to the palace and learned what had happened, they were enraged. Determined to reclaim the stone, they pursued Manjushri to Wutai Mountain. As they arrived, Manjushri sat in serene meditation, awaiting them.

Upon seeing him, the Fifth Dragon Prince demanded, “Are you truly the teacher of the Seven Buddhas, the Awakened Mother of the Three Periods, Manjushri Bodhisattva?”

Manjushri calmly replied, “Indeed, I am.”

Scoffing, the young dragon sneered, “It is said that past Buddhas were your disciples, yet you appear to be only fifteen or sixteen years old. How can this be?”

Manjushri then imparted a teaching:

“The Buddha taught that there are four things in the world that must never be underestimated:

  • A young prince—though small, he will one day rule the land and influence countless lives.
  • A young dragon—though young, he will one day command the winds and tides.
  • A small flame—though weak, it can grow into an all-consuming blaze.
  • A young monk—though inexperienced, he may attain supreme wisdom through practice.”

Hearing this, the young dragons began to reflect on the depth of Manjushri’s wisdom. However, the young dragons were still defiant. They demanded, “If you truly have great divine power, why not change the climate of Wutai Mountain directly? Why did you have to take the Xielong Stone?”

With patience, Manjushri explained, “Divine power can temporarily change conditions, but only through the Xielong Stone can Wutai Mountain remain perpetually cool and become a sanctuary for spiritual cultivation.”

Unconvinced, the young dragons retorted angrily, “So you admit that your power is limited! Return the stone at once, or we will show no mercy!”

Furious, the five dragons launched a fierce attack, unleashing their claws, storms, and lightning against Manjushri. Yet, no matter how they struck, they could not harm him in the slightest.

In their frustration, they began to tear at the mountains, hoping to shake the ground beneath Manjushri. Their immense strength clawed away the mountaintops, scattering rocks across the land, creating what is now known as the Dragon-Turned Stones (龙翻石).

Realizing the young dragons’ arrogance and aggression, Manjushri used his supreme power to subdue them. He sealed them beneath Mimo Rock (秘魔岩), merging two great peaks, leaving only a narrow crevice for them to reflect and temper their hearts. He then instructed the local mountain spirits and earth deities to ensure the dragons were provided with food and offerings, allowing them to cultivate patience and wisdom until their minds were at peace.

Later, the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea personally traveled to Wutai Mountain, pleading with Manjushri to release his sons.

With a compassionate smile, Manjushri assured him, “I have never harmed even an ant, let alone your five sons. They are here only to refine their minds. Once they achieve inner harmony, they will be freed naturally.”

To honor the young dragons and appease their spirits, Manjushri decreed that a Dragon King Temple be built in their name. There, they would receive offerings and incense from devoted followers, increasing their divine merits while they cultivated.

From then on, the Dragon King Temple on Wutai Mountain flourished, becoming a revered site for pilgrims seeking blessings for favorable weather and divine protection. Its existence symbolizes humanity’s reverence for the water deities and our hope for harmony between nature and sentient beings. Amidst the rising incense and prayers, worshippers not only feel the celestial blessings but also gain insight into wisdom and inner peace through spiritual practice.

Today’s Wutai Mountain is surrounded by lush green hills, beneath a sky of pure blue and auspicious clouds. In summer, the weather shifts between sunshine and rain, mist and fog. On clear days, the vast sky is brilliantly blue, filling the heart with joy and serenity; on rainy days, the misty veils create an atmosphere of elegance and tranquility, bringing deep peace to the soul. Strolling through the mountains, one feels naturally at ease and in harmony with the surroundings.

All of this, in truth, is a manifestation of the blessings and protection of Manjushri Bodhisattva. With His innate cool radiance, Manjushri employed the Dragon-Resting Gem to enlighten the beings of the dragon lineage. In doing so, He also established this sacred pure land of Wutai, where both ordinary and holy beings coexist. Here, He watches over this realm, awaiting the return of the countless wayfarers lost in the endless cycles of samsara.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/03/04/the-sacred-dragon-stone-manjushri-bodhisattvas-compassion-and-the-five-dragon-princess/