Tag: Buddhism

The Miraculous Healing: A True Witness to the Inconceivable Power of Buddha Dharma

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This post is adapted from a true account personally shared by Dr. Xisi Huang during her appearance on the “Buddhist Disciples Interview” program. It is our sincere hope that through this extraordinary testimonial, readers can deeply feel the inconceivable greatness of the Buddha Dharma and the peerless, boundless compassion of Namo H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III.

Young girl lying in bed with fever, sweating, crying, and covered in a red rash

In 2018, a nightmare began for our family. The skin on my 20-year-old younger daughter’s legs began breaking out in ulcerated rashes. Over time, the condition worsened drastically, leaving open wounds that rotted down to the raw flesh.

We sought help everywhere. We consulted Western doctors, traditional Chinese medicine practitioners, dermatologists, and natural therapies specialists. The diagnoses were completely inconsistent—ranging from severe mosquito bite allergies and stress to eczema and autoimmune failures. Yet, every doctor resorted to the same treatment: prescribing topical or oral steroids, and eventually, steroid injections. None of it worked. Instead, her body developed a resistance to the medication, and the painful, itchy rashes began spreading uncontrollably across her entire body.

By June, medical reports revealed she had developed severe allergies to over 50 types of food, a clear sign that her immune system was entirely compromised. She had to suspend her studies and was confined to the house, as any exposure to ambient bacteria could have been fatal. Suffering from constant hunger due to her restricted diet, she wasted away until she was practically skin and bones. As a mother, watching her suffer in agony while being utterly helpless was heartbreaking. It made me realize how limited and powerless human medicine can truly be.

The ultimate crisis struck on July 10th. Her immune system collapsed completely. Her fingers and toes swelled so severely that they fused together, rendering her unable to move or get out of bed. Soon, she began having difficulty breathing. When I desperately asked if she wanted to go to the hospital, she weakly replied, “It’s no use anymore, Mom. I finally truly understand what the Buddha taught—that human life hangs entirely on the balance of a single breath.” When I called her doctor in a panic, he looked at her and flatly admitted that they had never encountered such a case and could do nothing more. He implied that the end was near; if the inflammation attacked her heart, it would stop, and if it hit her throat, her airway would close. She was living on borrowed time, facing death every single second.

In the dead of night, at 2:00 AM, driven by sheer desperation as my daughter lay dying, I knelt on my living room floor. I prayed to the heavens, crying out for the blessings and salvation of our Buddha Master. The next morning, I took photos of her condition and sent them to Dharma Master Jue Hui at the Holy Miracles Temple in the United States. Very quickly, the Dharma Master called back with an urgent message: “The Buddha Master is aware of the situation. Your daughter is in extreme danger. You must come to America immediately.”

聖蹟寺 Holy Miracles Temple

Because urgent matters prevented me from leaving Hong Kong, my eldest daughter boarded a flight to Los Angeles that very night and rushed straight to Holy Miracles Temple. When she arrived around 7:00 PM, hundreds of disciples were already waiting to be received. By midnight, though the Buddha Master was exhausted from tirelessly helping disciples all day, He compassionately chose to forgo rest to receive my daughter.

The Buddha Master revealed the true cause of the affliction: my younger daughter’s condition was the manifestation of a massive karmic retribution, where her past karmic creditors had materialized as a demonic force possessing her body, intending to attack her until she perished.

The Buddha Master then asked my eldest daughter to step outside the hall, then His Holiness performed a holy Dharma rite. During the ritual, a profound, exquisite fragrance suddenly enveloped the entire temple—a heavenly scent my eldest daughter noted she had never experienced anywhere on Earth. Afterward, the Buddha Master, with boundless patience and compassion, repeatedly instructed my daughter on how to safely transport the large gallon of holy Dharma water back to Hong Kong and exactly how to administer it to her dying sister.

My eldest daughter packed the Dharma water into small bottles to bring back. Given the notoriously strict security checks at US customs, we were terrified that a suitcase full of fragrant liquids would be confiscated. Yet, a miracle occurred: when she opened the suitcase in Hong Kong, she found an official customs inspection letter inside. The officers had opened and checked the bag, yet they allowed every single bottle to pass through untouched.

The healing that followed was nothing short of miraculous. On the second day of using the Dharma water, my younger daughter’s spirit returned; she could sit up, and her breathing became smooth.

Most incredible of all, within just one single week, the rashes across her entire body vanished. The deep, ulcerated wounds on her legs that had previously exposed her flesh healed completely, leaving absolutely no scars behind! According to medical science, human skin tissue regeneration takes a bare minimum of 28 days. Yet, through the blessing of the Buddha Dharma, she was fully restored in seven days. A month later, she was healthy enough to study abroad in France.

Sometime later, her doctor—who had assumed she had passed away—called me to express his condolences. When I told him, “Doctor, my daughter is completely fine. She is fully recovered and is currently studying in France,” he was stunned into silence, able to utter only one phrase: “That is truly a miracle.”

In the face of such an undeniable transformation of karma, the scientific community can only use the word “miracle” to cloak the limitations of human knowledge. But today, I stand before you to declare boldly: This was not a mere coincidence or a stroke of luck. This is the tangible, magnificent manifestation of the supreme power of Buddha Dharma, and the unparalleled, life-saving compassion of our beloved Buddha Master, Namo Dorje Chang Buddha III!

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/05/19/the-miraculous-healing-a-true-witness-to-the-inconceivable-power-of-buddha-dharma/

This post is translated and edited from Interview with a Buddhist Disciple (59): AM1300 Chinese Radio Station – Exclusive Interview with PhD. Huang Xisi 《佛弟子訪談（五十九：AM1300中文廣播電臺-專訪香港黃僖偲博士》 by Linda Chang. For original records, please click here.

Click here to Wikitia page on H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III that list major accomplishments and teachings with links.

A Plum Blossom Painting Filled with Inner Strength and Serenity

linda changLeave a comment

The first time I looked at this plum blossom painting by Dorje Chang Buddha III, I immediately felt a powerful and uplifting energy flowing from it. It was not simply a beautiful painting that pleased the eyes. Rather, it carried a quiet spiritual strength that deeply touched the heart.

My first thought was that only an artist with profound inner calmness, wisdom, and spiritual realization could create such a work.

In traditional Chinese culture, plum blossoms symbolize nobility, purity, perseverance, and courage. Blossoming in the cold of winter, they have long represented the ability to remain graceful and strong amid hardship. Yet this painting expresses those qualities in a particularly extraordinary way.

The entire composition feels free from anything worldly or artificial. There is no trace of stiffness, heaviness, or forced technique. Every brushstroke appears natural, effortless, and alive. The painting possesses a wondrous elegance that cannot be achieved merely through technical skill or years of practice alone. It feels more like the crystallization of wisdom, cultivation, and inner realization.

What especially fascinates me is the unique arrangement of the plum tree itself. The roots twist and coil together, naturally forming what resembles a large bonsai pot. The varying shades of ink create rich layers, flowing movement, and a dreamlike sense of surrealism throughout the painting. The entire scene feels both realistic and ethereal at the same time, blending natural beauty with poetic imagination.

The artist employs the distinctive Chinese painting technique of “flying white” and broken brushstrokes, allowing the branches to pulse with vitality and the force of life. The bold, heavy brushwork gives the sturdy roots the powerful presence of coiled dragons gathering strength before soaring into motion. The entire composition radiates an uplifting sense of righteous energy, while also revealing the artist’s vast, bold, and magnanimous inner world.

What is even more remarkable is that the brushwork appears so simple and effortless, yet every stroke is skillful and full of spirit. Nothing feels excessive, and nothing is unnecessary. It is precisely this simplicity that gives the painting its extraordinary sense of calmness, freedom, and spiritual strength.

After completing the painting, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III composed the following poem:

“Plum flowers of surpassing loveliness blossom in a pot, though never are they planted.
Wave the brush to plant the tree, and the roots of that old tree form their own shallow pot.”

The poem perfectly reflects the painting’s natural spontaneity and artistic wonder. The plum blossoms seem not artificially arranged, but born effortlessly from nature itself.

Perhaps this is what makes the painting so moving. Beyond its artistic beauty, it conveys a state of mind — calm yet powerful, simple yet profound, gentle yet filled with inner strength.

In today’s restless and hurried world, such artwork quietly reminds us of something precious: true beauty comes not only from technique, but from the purity, peace, and depth within the artist’s heart.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/05/14/a-plum-blossom-painting-filled-with-inner-strength-and-serenity/

Revealing the Truth — A Book That Inspires Deep Self-Reflection

linda changLeave a comment

Revealing the Truth is not merely a collection of Buddhist stories. The book chronicles the personal experiences of a Buddhist nun over twelve years, from 2001 to 2013, while cultivating at the holy home base of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III.

Through many real-life experiences, the book quietly reveals the compassion, wisdom, and holiness of Dorje Chang Buddha III, while also helping disciples reflect deeply on whether their own cultivation truly aligns with Buddhist teachings.

What makes this book especially valuable is its sincerity. The stories are not distant theories or abstract teachings, but vivid experiences from everyday life — moments of hardship, karmic tests, spiritual awakening, and personal reflection. As readers follow these experiences, they are naturally led to examine themselves:

Are my thoughts truly compassionate?
Are my words beneficial to others?
Are my actions aligned with the Dharma?
Am I sincerely cultivating, or merely following forms outwardly?

In today’s busy and distracted world, Revealing the Truth serves not only as an inspiring spiritual record, but also as a mirror for sincere cultivators seeking genuine inner transformation.

Among the many fascinating stories in the book, I would like to share one particularly miraculous and thrilling incident.

One day, several disciples accidentally ate a deadly poisonous wild herb after mistaking it for edible Chinese kale. Within minutes, those who had tasted the vegetables began suffering severe dizziness, numbness, blurred vision, and loss of bodily control. Some collapsed to the ground, their faces turning pale gray as though life itself were slipping away.

When H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III learned what had happened, he immediately recognized the herb as the highly poisonous “Yizhihao,” warning that even a tiny amount could be fatal. Seeing five disciples hovering between life and death, he urgently instructed everyone to induce vomiting. At beginning, none of them could do that. Then, with great solemnity, he snapped his fingers in blessing and loudly called upon the Dharma protectors to rescue the poisoned disciples and restore their consciousness.

What happened next astonished everyone present. Almost immediately, the poisoned disciples began vomiting repeatedly, expelling the toxins from their bodies. Though completely exhausted afterward, all five ultimately survived safely.

Stories like this are what make Revealing the Truth so unforgettable. Beyond the mystery and drama, readers can deeply feel the compassionate care extended toward disciples and the profound spiritual power revealed through ordinary life situations.

Perhaps this is why the book continues to leave such a deep impact on sincere readers — because beneath every story lies a reminder to cultivate more truthfully, more humbly, and more sincerely on the path of liberation.

If you are looking for a book that doesn’t just tell you about Buddhism, but shows you how it breathes in the real world, Revealing the Truth is your next essential read.

The paper copies of the book are available at Buddhist temples or can be purchased online at Amazon.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/05/12/revealing-the-truth-a-book-that-inspires-deep-self-reflection/

Seeing a World Within Emptiness — An Appreciation of a Lively and Serene Ink Painting

linda changLeave a comment
Myna Birds Drunk Among the Willows by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

Some paintings do not rely on complexity to move us. With only a few deliberate strokes, they unfold a world full of life. This fresh and tranquil ink painting is one such work. Quiet and unassuming, it reveals a profound artistic tension and depth within simplicity and stillness.

The composition is anchored by three strong yet supple ink lines. Their texture is rich and full, their force penetrating the paper. They resemble trees, yet are not trees—more like structural forms that divide the flat surface into a grid of interwoven spaces. Within these spaces, branches stretch and intersect, while willow-like lines sway gently, creating a rhythmic sense of motion.

What is most remarkable, however, lies in what is not painted.

The empty spaces are far from void; they are charged with meaning. In these areas of intentional absence, the viewer’s imagination is invited to wander. As the saying goes, “where nothing is painted, there lies the true realm of the painting.” The composition, in its entirety, feels almost like a montage—a sequence of visual moments carefully arranged. From this minimal structure emerges a surprisingly rich and intriguing visual experience.

Bringing the scene to life are several mynah birds, rendered in bold, expressive ink. These small creatures become the focal point of the painting.

They are divided into three groups, each occupying different sections of the grid. In a small triangular space near the top, three birds gather closely together. The density of life within such a confined area creates an immediate visual tension. In contrast, a large quadrilateral space in the lower middle is occupied by just a single bird, as if it has claimed the entire openness for itself—perhaps even becoming the quiet center of the composition.

Then there is a particularly playful detail: a bird in the upper right seems to occupy the intersection of four spaces at once. Though not placed at the center, it establishes its own presence, as if declaring that even at the edge, one can still become a focal point.

These birds preen their feathers, tilt their heads, hum softly, and seem to communicate with one another. Bathed in a sense of freshness, they revel in the gentle beauty of spring, fully immersed in a life of ease and freedom. The entire painting begins to resemble a small, self-contained paradise.

This delightful and imaginative work is created by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. Art, at its highest level, is not merely a display of technique—it is a reflection of the inner world. A truly great work reveals the artist’s state of mind and spiritual depth.

In this painting, what we witness is not only mastery of brush and ink, but also a sense of calm, freedom, and purity—a state of being that transcends complexity and returns to essence.

The diverse artistic creations of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III stand as enduring treasures of human civilization. And this seemingly simple piece gently reminds us:

In a world of endless complexity, true beauty often resides in simplicity—
and true freedom may be found in the space between what is left unpainted.

LinK:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/05/04/seeing-a-world-within-emptiness-an-appreciation-of-a-lively-and-serene-ink-painting/

Your Aura is a Map of Your Soul: The Ancient Chinese Wisdom of “Xiang You Xin Sheng”

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A Turn of Thought, A Turn of Fate — A Story of Conscience and Choice

Ever wonder if people can ‘sense’ what you’re thinking? In Chinese culture, we call this ‘Xiang You Xin Sheng.’ It’s the idea that your aura is a mirror of your soul. I found this traditional story particularly striking today, as it shows how changing your mind is the ultimate way to change your luck.

In Chinese culture, there is an ancient proverb: “Xiang You Xin Sheng” (相由心生). While it literally translates to “one’s appearance is born from the heart,” its wisdom goes far deeper than physical beauty.

In this context, “Xiang” (相) refers to much more than just the face; it encompasses one’s “aura,” “vibe,” or the invisible energy one radiates to the world. The teaching suggests that our persistent thoughts eventually sculpt our features and our presence, and this shift in our “countenance” often signals a pivotal turn in our destiny.

There is a traditional story that perfectly illustrates this profound connection between thought, aura, and fate.

Long ago, a wealthy man with no children of his own adopted a young orphan. He raised the boy as his own flesh and blood, providing him with a fine education and teaching him the intricacies of business and integrity. As the boy grew into a young man, he became exceptionally handsome and capable. To any observer, he was the clear heir to a vast fortune.

However, the human heart can be like a dark, fathomless pond. In moments of solitude, a shadow began to creep into the young man’s mind: “Since all of this will eventually be mine, why shouldn’t I have it sooner?”

At first, this thought was a mere spark. But over time, it began to smolder. It subtly changed his “Xiang”—his once-clear eyes grew clouded with a trace of calculation, and his once-welcoming aura took on a subtle edge of coldness.

One day, a guest skilled in the ancient art of physiognomy (face reading) visited the house. After observing the young man, the guest whispered to the father: “This young man’s spirit is darkened. There is a hidden greed between his brows. He may harbor betrayal in his heart; you must be on your guard.”

The young man happened to overhear this from behind a wall. In that moment, he felt as though he had been struck by lightning. He wasn’t angry at being insulted; he was terrified of being seen. He realized that his inner “vibe” had betrayed him—the “thief” in his heart had indeed been lurking there for a long time.

“My father has treated me with the kindness of a mountain, yet I covet his life and wealth. How am I different from a beast?” he thought. This intense shame acted like a mirror, reflecting the stains on his soul. In that instant, he made the most important decision of his life: he would cut off his greed, leave his comfortable home, and find his true, clean self again.

He bid farewell to his father and set out to make his own way. Not long after, while traveling a lonely path, he found a heavy pouch filled with gold and silver—enough wealth to change a man’s life instantly.

In the silence of the wilderness, with no one watching, the old greed flickered for a second. But he immediately remembered the shame and the awakening he had experienced. Instead of taking the pouch, he waited. He stood his ground from noon until dusk, until a frantic traveler appeared, searching in despair for his lost property.

Young man giving a bag labeled GOLD to an elderly woman crying with gratitude

When the young man returned the wealth, the owner was moved to tears. Impressed by such rare integrity, the traveler used his influence to recommend the young man for a prestigious and honorable career. From that point on, the young man no longer relied on an inheritance. Through his own hard work and “righteous spirit,” he built a life of genuine dignity and peace.

Years later, when people spoke of him, they saw a man with a gentle face and a clear, peaceful aura. The gloom of his youth had vanished. He finally understood that what changed his fate wasn’t the bag of gold or the new job; it was the moment he chose to face his own inner ugliness and personally extinguish the fire of greed.

The turning points in our lives rarely happen during grand, public moments. They happen in the silent depths of the heart. One thought can lead a person into an abyss; one shift in thought can lead them back to the light.

We cannot guarantee that we will never harbor a dark thought, but we can choose—the moment we become aware of it—not to follow where it leads.

As the old wisdom teaches: Good and evil exist within a single thought. And destiny? It often waits at the corner of that very same thought, ready to turn your life in a whole new direction.

#Mindfulness #AsianCulture #SelfImprovement #ChineseWisdom#AsianPhilosophy #TraditionalCulture#Chinesestories #Chinesetraditionalconcepts

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/05/04/your-aura-is-a-map-of-your-soul-the-ancient-chinese-wisdom-of-xiang-you-xin-sheng/

Awakening Life in the Deep: An Appreciation of Deep Sea Purple Moss

linda changLeave a comment

Among many spiritually expressive works of art, Deep Sea Purple Moss stands out for its simplicity and depth, offering viewers a striking, almost visceral impact. This Western-style painting by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III may appear abstract at first glance, yet it carries profound reflections on life and inner awakening.

The entire composition is built from just three colors—black, white, and purple—yet it reveals remarkable layers and tension. The black areas resemble a boundless deep sea, mysterious and unfathomable, as if there is no visible end. This depth evokes a sense of stillness infused with latent power. This “black” not only represents the unknown world but also symbolizes the unpredictable circumstances and challenges we encounter in life.

In contrast, the white surges forward like rolling waves, powerful and unstoppable. It breaks the silence of the black, injecting movement and dramatic force into the scene. These waves seem to echo life’s turbulence—the sudden changes, hardships, and trials that compel us to confront reality head-on.

Most captivating is the vibrant touch of purple. Like sea moss growing in the depths, it persists between waves and currents, embodying a resilient and vigorous life force. Here, purple is more than a visual accent; it becomes a symbol—of endurance, of hope, and of life’s ability to thrive even in adversity.

As we contemplate this painting, we begin to see that it is not merely a depiction of the sea, but a reflection of life itself. The black deep sea represents the environment we live in; the white waves, the challenges we must face; and the purple “moss” represents who we are.

In an ever-changing world, we cannot choose every circumstance, but we can choose how we respond. Just like the purple life form in the painting that continues to grow amid stormy waters, we too must learn to adapt, to temper ourselves through trials, and to seek upward strength even in difficult situations.

With its minimalist form, this work conveys a profound truth: true growth is not gained in calm waters, but forged in the midst of surging waves.

Perhaps, the next time we face the “great waves” in our own lives, we may remember this purple moss in the deep sea—growing upward, even in the darkest depths.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/04/30/awakening-life-in-the-deep-an-appreciation-of-deep-sea-purple-moss/

The Water-Splashing Festival: Where Tradition, Faith, and Renewal Meet

linda changLeave a comment

Every year in mid-April, the streets of Xishuangbanna and Dehong in Yunnan, China transform into a vast ocean of water.

To many, the Water-Splashing Festival is simply a joyful, all-out “water fight.” But what is often overlooked is that this grand celebration does not begin with noise or excitement—it begins with a single, quiet drop of perfumed water falling gently on the shoulder of a Buddha statue.

Today, let us step into Sangken Bimai—the New Year shared by the Dai, De’ang, and Blang peoples—and discover how traditional Chinese folk customs and Buddhist culture come together, blending seamlessly through the gentle yet powerful symbolism of water.

“Sangken Bimai” in the Dai language means “the turning of the New Year.” Its roots trace back to Sankranti, a Sanskrit term meaning “transition” or “passage,” tied to ancient Indian calendrical and religious traditions. With the spread of Theravada Buddhism, this observance took root across Southwest China and Southeast Asia, gradually evolving into a festival rich in both spiritual and cultural meaning.

Before the streets erupt in splashing water, every temple begins with a solemn and tranquil ritual: bathing the Buddha.

Devotees gather fresh flowers, soak their petals in clean water, and create a lightly scented infusion. One by one, they approach the Buddha statue, gently pouring the water over it with branches or cupped hands, symbolically washing away dust.

In this moment, there is no noise—only reverence.

This act is not merely an offering of respect to the Buddha; it is also a ritual of inner purification. It represents washing away the greed, anger, and ignorance accumulated over the past year, allowing the heart to return to clarity and light as the new year begins.

The Water-Splashing Festival typically lasts three to four days. While details vary by region, the structure follows a meaningful progression—from letting go of the old, through transition, to welcoming the new.

Day One: Farewell to the Old Year
This day resembles New Year’s Eve.

Along the Lancang River, dragon boats race across the water, sending waves splashing into the air. “Rising rockets”—traditional homemade fireworks—shoot skyward, carrying people’s wishes with them. Dressed in festive attire, people gather at lively markets filled with laughter and celebration, bidding farewell to the passing year.

Day Two: The Day Between Time
This is a deeply symbolic day—belonging neither to the old year nor yet to the new.

People building and decorating sand pagodas with flags and flowers on a beach during a festival

People visit temples to build sand stupas, shaping fine white sand into small pagodas adorned with colorful flags and flowers. Each grain of sand represents a good deed or kind thought.

This act of merit-making expresses hopes for favorable weather, peace, and stability in the coming year.

Day Three: Blessing and Rebirth Through Water
The first day of the New Year begins again with the Buddha-bathing ritual, followed by the festival’s most exuberant moment—water splashing.

For elders, water is gently poured over the shoulders as a sign of respect and blessing. Among peers and younger generations, however, the mood shifts into joyful abandon—buckets, basins, and water guns come into play, and laughter fills the air.

The more water, the deeper the blessing.

At this point, water is no longer just water—it becomes a tangible expression of good fortune and joy, symbolizing the washing away of the past and the arrival of new life.

A Celebration of Culture and Spirit

The Water-Splashing Festival is not only a holiday—it is a vibrant expression of culture.

The rhythmic beat of elephant-foot drums echoes like thunder, while the graceful peacock dance reflects harmony between humans and nature. As night falls, people release floating lanterns onto rivers and send sky lanterns drifting into the night, symbolizing the release of misfortune and the rising of hope.

IP上海 代傲辰 图

In these moments—both dynamic and still—people express reverence for nature and heartfelt wishes for the future.

One Drop of Water, A Shared Cultural World

This festival does not belong to Yunnan alone.

Across Southeast Asia, it appears under different names, yet carries the same cultural essence.

In Thailand, Songkran is not only about water—it is a time of gratitude and family connection. Younger generations gently pour scented water over the hands of elders to receive blessings, while also participating in merit-making rituals such as building sand stupas. Bright floral shirts have become a modern symbol of the celebration.

In Myanmar, the festival—known as Thingyan—has an especially strong spiritual atmosphere. Many people observe periods of fasting, visit temples, or even temporarily ordain as monks to welcome the New Year with purity and reflection. Traditional foods, such as soaked rice infused with fragrant water, are prepared, while large city celebrations feature grand stages where water is sprayed over joyful crowds.

Though names and customs vary, they all trace back to the same origin—Sankranti, marking not only the passage of time, but the renewal of life.

From the valleys of Yunnan to the cities of Southeast Asia, this single drop of water travels across geography and culture, quietly connecting the entire region.

It begins in stillness before the Buddha, and flows into laughter among people.
It symbolizes both letting go and renewal—purification and blessing.

What makes the Water-Splashing Festival so moving is not merely its liveliness, but what it reveals:

Even in the simplicity of everyday life, people continue to express kindness, cherish life, and hold hope for the future in the gentlest of ways.

A drop of water falling on the Buddha’s shoulder is an act of practice.
A splash of water shared among people is a blessing.

And when that water flows through the heart, perhaps what is truly cleansed…is ourselves.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/04/30/the-water-splashing-festival-where-tradition-faith-and-renewal-meet/

A Golden Bowl and an Awakened Heart — A Story of Awareness and Transformation

linda changLeave a comment

Nāgārjuna was a great Buddhist master from ancient India, widely respected as a profound philosopher and teacher who illuminated the path of wisdom and emptiness. Known for his deep insight and compassionate guidance, he helped many turn their minds toward awakening.

There is a story often told about him:

Nāgārjuna lived a simple and pure life, traveling from place to place, guiding others with wisdom.

One day, he arrived in a prosperous kingdom. The queen, a devoted follower of the Dharma, was overjoyed to hear of his visit. She had a beautiful golden bowl specially made, inlaid with precious jewels, and offered it to him with great respect.

When Nāgārjuna entered the city on his alms round, the queen personally presented the golden bowl. He accepted it calmly, without excitement or attachment, just as he would accept any ordinary offering.

Carrying the bowl, he quietly left the city and returned to a dilapidated hut where he was staying.

A thief saw everything.

He thought to himself, “Such a valuable bowl in the hands of a man who lives with nothing—how long can he keep it? If someone is going to take it, why not me?”

So he followed Nāgārjuna in secret.

As night fell, Nāgārjuna returned to his crumbling shelter. There were no doors, no roof—hardly a place anyone would visit.

The thief hid nearby, waiting for the right moment, planning to act once the master fell asleep.

After finishing a simple meal, Nāgārjuna gently placed the golden bowl outside, in a visible spot, and then sat down quietly.

The thief was stunned. He had not expected this.

After hesitating, he stepped forward and asked softly, “Aren’t you afraid someone will take your bowl?”

Nāgārjuna looked at him calmly and said, “Since you are already here, why hide? If you need it, you may take it.”

The thief was taken aback and found himself unable to reach for it.

“Do you not know how valuable this is?” he asked.

Nāgārjuna smiled gently. “If the mind is bound by it, even something precious becomes a burden. If the mind is not attached, even something simple is enough.”

The thief fell silent for a long moment, then said, “If you can see a golden bowl this way, then what you have must be far more valuable. Can you teach me?”

Nāgārjuna nodded. “Yes. But first, you must learn to observe your own mind.”

“How do I do that?” the thief asked.

“When a thought arises—whether of desire, grasping, or wanting to take something—simply be aware of it clearly. Do not follow it, do not suppress it, do not act on it. Just see it as it is.”

“That sounds easy,” the thief said.

“It sounds easy,” Nāgārjuna replied, “but it is not.”

The thief agreed to try.

Person meditating with illustrated thoughts about present moment, past memories, future dreams, sensations, and emotions

When he next attempted to steal, he began to watch his own thoughts. Yet each time he clearly saw the moment of greed arise, something within him shifted. His hand could no longer move forward.

Again and again, he tried—but whenever awareness was present, the urge lost its force.

After some time, he returned to Nāgārjuna, empty-handed.

“I can no longer steal,” he said quietly. “The moment I truly see my thoughts, the desire disappears.”

Nāgārjuna looked at him and said, “It is not that you have lost something. It is that you have begun to see clearly.”

Tears filled the thief’s eyes. “I once believed that gaining more would bring satisfaction. Now I see that when the mind becomes still, the peace and ease I feel are greater than any wealth.”

He knelt and said, “Please allow me to follow you and learn.”

Nāgārjuna replied, “The moment you are willing to face your own mind, your practice has already begun.”

This story has been passed down not to suggest that one should ignore right and wrong, but to remind us:

True transformation does not come from force, but from clear awareness.
True letting go is not merely giving things up, but releasing attachment in the heart.

When we begin to truly see our own minds, many attachments naturally fall away. And perhaps, the real turning point begins the moment we are willing to truly see ourselves.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/04/27/a-golden-bowl-and-an-awakened-heart-a-story-of-awareness-and-transformation/

The Dry Earth Listens

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The Dry Earth Listens

In an age when the earth had forgotten the taste of rain, there was a valley of farmers whose lives clung to the soil like fragile roots.

The land had once been generous. Rivers flowed like silver ribbons, and the fields bowed heavy with grain. But seasons turned, and the sky grew silent. The clouds passed without mercy, the rivers thinned into dust, and the ground cracked open like a weary heart.

The farmers did not abandon the land. Each morning, they walked into their fields with quiet determination, though their hands returned empty. They dug deeper wells, prayed to the sky, and rationed each drop of water as if it were life itself—because it was.

Their suffering rose—not in loud cries, but in quiet endurance.

And far beyond the human world, Kwan Yin heard them.

She heard the mother who gave her last cup of water to her child.
She heard the old farmer who pretended he was not thirsty so the young might drink.
She heard the unspoken fear that soon, even hope would dry up like the riverbeds.

Kwan Yin’s heart trembled with compassion—not as a fleeting emotion, but as a boundless vow.

“I will go,” she said, “not only to give relief, but to awaken what still flows unseen.”

And so, she descended once more to the human world.

She came not as a radiant figure, but as a humble woman walking along the dusty road that led into the valley. Her robes were simple, her face serene, her steps light as though guided by something deeper than the earth beneath her.

The farmers noticed her, but paid little attention at first. Strangers came and went, and none had brought rain.

Yet she did not speak of miracles.

Instead, she walked to the driest field and knelt down, placing her hand gently upon the cracked earth. She closed her eyes, as though listening—not to the sky, but to the ground itself.

A nearby farmer approached her, shaking his head.

“There is nothing left here,” he said. “We have tried everything. Even the wells have abandoned us.”

Kwan Yin opened her eyes and looked at him—not with pity, but with a deep, steady compassion.

“Has the earth abandoned you,” she asked softly, “or have you forgotten how to listen to it?”

The farmer frowned. “What is there to hear? It is dry. It is dead.”

Kwan Yin did not argue. She simply rose and asked the villagers to gather.

When they had come, tired and uncertain, she drew a small circle in the dust.

“Bring me what water you have,” she said.

They hesitated. What she asked felt impossible. Water was no longer something to give—it was something to guard.

But something in her presence stirred trust.

One by one, they brought what little they could: a half-filled cup, a small jar, a damp cloth wrung into drops. It was not much. It was barely anything at all.

Kwan Yin poured it gently into the circle she had drawn.

“This,” she said, “is not just water. It is your willingness to share life, even in scarcity.”

Then she took a simple branch and pressed it into the center of the dampened earth.

“Now,” she said, “care for this together—not as individuals, but as one body.”

The villagers were confused, but they obeyed.

Each day, they took turns offering a few drops of water to the small patch of soil. They shaded it from the harsh sun, loosened the surrounding earth, and sat quietly beside it—some in hope, others in doubt.

Days passed.

Then one morning, a child cried out.

A small green shoot had emerged.

It was delicate, almost too fragile to see—but it was alive.

The villagers gathered around it, their hearts stirring with something they had nearly lost.

Encouraged, they continued. They began to work the land differently—not digging blindly for water, but observing the flow of wind, the shape of the land, the hidden places where moisture still lingered beneath the surface. They shared labor, tools, and knowledge. What one discovered, all learned.

And slowly, the valley began to change.

It did not happen all at once. There was no sudden storm, no dramatic flood from the heavens.

But the earth, once hardened, began to soften. Dew gathered in the early mornings. Small channels guided what little rain fell into the soil instead of letting it vanish. The fields, once abandoned, showed signs of life again.

And the farmers, who had once endured in silence, now worked together—with care, with awareness, with a renewed sense of connection.

One evening, as the sun dipped low, the farmer who had first spoken to Kwan Yin approached her again.

“Who are you?” he asked quietly. “You have not brought rain, yet you have saved us.”

Kwan Yin smiled, her gaze resting on the small green field that had begun to spread across the valley.

“I did not save you,” she said gently. “You remembered how to live—with the earth, and with one another.”

The farmer lowered his head, understanding not fully, but enough.

The next morning, she was gone.

No one saw her leave. No footsteps marked the path.

But in the center of the valley, where the first shoot had grown, they found the branch she had planted—now blossoming, though no one had seen it flower before.

From that day on, the farmers told no stories of miracles.

Instead, they spoke of listening.

They spoke of sharing even when there was little.
They spoke of the quiet wisdom of the earth.
And sometimes, when the wind moved softly across the fields at dawn, they felt a presence—not seen, not heard, but known.

As though compassion itself had once walked among them… and never truly left.

Link: https://wisdomtea.org/2026/03/19/the-dry-earth-listens/

When Anger Wears the Mask of “Protecting the Dharma” — A Reflection on My Practice

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After years of practice, we often believe we are walking the right path. We may even feel completely confident in our own “devotion.” Yet sometimes, in a single moment, a line of true Dharma strikes like thunder—and we suddenly realize that all along, we have only been practicing on the surface.

Recently, while listening to Fundamental Dharma Expounded in the East, Volume 8 by Namo Dorje Chang Buddha III, I was deeply shaken. In the teaching, a disciple shared her confusion: she was extremely respectful toward the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and her guru, yet her practice did not truly resonate, and she gained no real benefit. In particular, whenever she saw others showing disrespect or even slandering the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, her heart would fill with anger and aversion.

The Buddha’s teaching was like a clear mirror. It revealed not only her blind spot, but also something hidden deep within my own heart.

The Buddha compassionately taught that when facing the ignorance and slander of others, a practitioner should not give rise to anger, but to compassion.

When we see someone slandering the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas out of ignorance, we should think: “Because of her ignorance, she may fall into suffering. Her pain is also my responsibility.” This willingness to take others’ suffering as one’s own is the heart of a Bodhisattva.

Not only that—we should quietly pray for them, wishing that they awaken as soon as possible. We may even make this vow: “I must attain realization as quickly as I can, so I can help liberate her. Otherwise, how could she endure the suffering of lower realms?”

The Buddha gave the example of King Kali cutting the body. When Śākyamuni Buddha was subjected to extreme physical harm, there was not the slightest hatred in his heart. Instead, he vowed that after attaining Buddhahood, he would be the first to liberate that very person. This state—where there is no separation between self and others—is true great compassion, the genuine expression of the Four Immeasurables.

Multi-generational family sharing food and laughter at dinner table

As I listened, I broke into a cold sweat. I was reminded of something that happened in 2025, when I returned to my hometown to visit family.

At a family gathering, my cousin’s husband was filled with anger. He had suffered a stroke and complained that he had never done anything bad in his life, yet had not been protected. My cousin, who has faith in Buddhism—perhaps more from a wish for protection—kept a statue of Guanyin at home. After recovering, he angrily threw the statue onto the ground.

In that moment, a surge of anger rose within me. I felt this was a serious insult to the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. I argued with him fiercely, my heart filled with resentment. I even thought to myself, “For someone like you, I will never dedicate blessings or prayers again.” After that, I have not contacted with them again.

What is more unsettling is that, at the time, I even felt a subtle sense of righteousness—as if I were “protecting the Dharma,” as if I were standing on principle.

Only after hearing this teaching did I truly see clearly: my anger was not for the sake of the Dharma—it came from my attachment to self.

To “protect the Dharma” without compassion is already to go astray.
The moment I gave rise to anger, refused to communicate, and gave up caring for them, I had already lost the four limitless states of mind. As the Buddha taught, if we turn away from someone, they are more likely to fall. What I thought was “holding my ground” was actually pushing away someone who needed help.

That was merely futile practice.
My mouth recited sutras and mantras, but my heart built a wall of resentment. Outwardly respectful, inwardly hardened—how could such practice bring any true benefit?

Worse still, it was faulty practice.
Facing others with anger creates no merit—it only accumulates karma.

This teaching helped me see the deepest blind spot in my practice.

I came to understand that the essence of practice is not how devout we appear on the outside, but this: when we encounter misunderstanding, slander, or ignorance, what arises in our heart—fire, or light?

Now, I feel both shame and gratitude. Shame for my ignorance and attachment, and deep gratitude for the Buddha’s teaching, which allowed me to turn back in time.

In my heart, I have quietly repented to my cousin’s husband. I have also begun again to pray for them, wishing that they may be free from suffering and awaken soon.

Practice is, in truth, a long process of “tearing down walls”—walls built from self-attachment, prejudice, and emotional reactions.

May we all, guided by the true Dharma, cleanse the dust from our hearts and cultivate a mind that is truly soft and vast—a heart that sees all beings as our own family.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/04/24/when-anger-wears-the-mask-of-protecting-the-dharma-a-reflection-on-my-practice/