A Hidden Buddhist Wonderland in China: Discover the 1,600-Year-Old Grand Buddha Temple of Xinchang

Sometimes, the most unforgettable travel experiences begin with the simplest reasons.

I first became interested in visiting the Grand Buddha Temple in Xinchang (新昌大佛寺), Zhejiang Province, after watching several popular Chinese costume dramas, including Ninefold Purple (《九重紫》), Chasing Jade (《逐玉》), One and Only (《周生如故》), and Mysterious Lotus Casebook (《莲花楼》).

I was curious to see the beautiful locations where these dramas were filmed. But when I finally arrived, I was completely blown away!

I had expected to see some beautiful ancient buildings and filming locations. Instead, I discovered an extraordinary world of ancient Buddhist sculptures, mysterious caves, magnificent rock formations, waterfalls, peaceful gardens, and towering pagodas.

This was not simply an ancient temple. It felt like stepping into another world.

A Temple With More Than 1,600 Years of History

Located in Xinchang County, Shaoxing, Zhejiang Province, the Grand Buddha Temple dates back to the Eastern Jin Dynasty, around 345 AD. With a history spanning more than sixteen centuries, it is one of the important centers of Buddhist culture in the Jiangnan region of southeastern China.

According to historical accounts, an eminent monk named Tanguang (昙光) came to this beautiful mountainous area in the fourth century and established a small monastery. Over the centuries, the temple developed into an important center for Buddhist practice and scholarship.

The surrounding landscape is particularly beautiful. Ancient trees, green hills, rocky cliffs, winding pathways, and quiet valleys create an atmosphere that feels both peaceful and mysterious.

The temple is also famous for its extraordinary rock-carved Buddhist sculptures, earning it the nickname “The Dunhuang of Yue.” This comparison reflects the remarkable artistic and historical value of its Buddhist carvings.

Four Highlights You Should Not Miss

1. The Grand Buddha of Jiangnan – A Masterpiece Carved Into the Mountain

The most famous treasure of the temple is its magnificent stone Maitreya Buddha.

Carved directly into a natural rock cliff during the Southern Qi and Liang dynasties, between approximately 486 and 516 AD, this enormous statue stands about 16.3 meters tall.

The remarkable project took three generations of Buddhist monks and approximately thirty years to complete.

What makes this sculpture so extraordinary is not simply its size. Its serene expression, elegant proportions, and gentle smile convey a remarkable sense of compassion and wisdom.

Standing before this ancient Buddha, one cannot help but feel a sense of reverence. It is amazing to realize that this masterpiece was created more than 1,500 years ago, long before modern construction equipment and technology existed.

2. The Reclining Buddha – A Majestic Image of Nirvana

Another breathtaking attraction is the Reclining Buddha inside the Twin Pines Grottoes (双林石窟).

At approximately 37 meters long and 9 meters high, it is described as Asia’s largest indoor reclining Buddha.

Unlike the ancient rock-carved Maitreya Buddha, this impressive sculpture was created in modern times, using the natural cave environment as its setting.

The Buddha rests peacefully in the traditional reclining posture, representing the Buddha’s entry into Parinirvana.

The surrounding rock formations, stone carvings, pools, and waterfalls create an atmosphere that feels almost otherworldly.

It is easy to understand why filmmakers are attracted to this location. The combination of natural rock architecture, Buddhist imagery, and dramatic lighting makes the entire space feel like a scene from a fantasy world.

3. Buddha Heart Square and the Beautiful Jiangnan Corridor

Buddha Heart Square (佛心广场) is another popular destination.

Here, visitors can see a magnificent large Chinese character “佛” (Buddha), created by the renowned monk and artist Master Hongyi.

Photo by: Steven Hsu 北極熊羽球

The nearby corridor, with its traditional yellow walls, dark tiled roofs, and beautiful “福” (fortune and blessings) character, is especially photogenic.

Walking through this corridor feels like stepping into an ancient Chinese painting.

It is also a wonderful place to photograph traditional Chinese clothing, especially Hanfu. The combination of yellow walls, traditional architecture, and surrounding greenery creates an elegant and timeless atmosphere.

4. The Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda – A Landmark in the Sky

The Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda (万佛宝塔), standing approximately 73 meters tall, is another spectacular landmark.

Its nine stories, traditional Chinese rooflines, and impressive height make it one of the most recognizable structures in the scenic area.

The pagoda has also appeared in several popular costume dramas, including Mysterious Lotus Casebook and Ninefold Purple.

Looking up at this magnificent structure, surrounded by mountains and traditional buildings, I could understand why filmmakers love this location.

If climbing the pagoda is permitted during your visit, it is worth checking whether you can enjoy the views from above.

5. Prajna Valley – A Mysterious Underground Buddhist World

One of the most surprising attractions is Prajna Valley (般若谷).

Unlike the traditional temple halls, this area was developed from an old Ming Dynasty quarry. Its dramatic rock walls, caves, waterfalls, and elaborate Buddhist sculptures create a fascinating underground-like landscape.

There are colorful relief sculptures depicting Buddhist history and important figures, as well as an impressive Guanyin statue.

Walking through the valley, surrounded by towering rock walls and flowing water, feels like entering a hidden Buddhist kingdom.

This is also one of the filming locations associated with Ninefold Purple. For fans of Chinese historical dramas, recognizing familiar scenes here makes the visit even more exciting.

Travel Tips: How to Make the Most of Your Visit

The scenic area is quite large, so I recommend allowing at least three to four hours. If you enjoy photography, exploring Buddhist art, or simply taking your time, you may want to spend half a day here.

A suggested sightseeing route is:

Buddha Heart Square → Release Pond (放生池) → Grand Buddha of Jiangnan → Thousand Buddha Zen Temple → Twin Pines Reclining Buddha → Prajna Valley.

You can also explore the Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda and other scenic spots along the way. Since the attractions cover a large area, wear comfortable walking shoes and be prepared for stairs and uphill paths.

Best Time to Visit

Spring and autumn are particularly pleasant seasons, when the weather is generally comfortable for walking and exploring.

Early morning is a wonderful time to arrive. There are usually fewer visitors, and the soft natural light makes the ancient buildings and mountain scenery especially beautiful.

If you enjoy photography, allow extra time to explore the corridors, gardens, and mountain pathways.

Getting There

The temple is located in Xinchang County, Shaoxing City, Zhejiang Province.

Visitors can travel by high-speed train to Shengzhou-Xinchang Railway Station (嵊州新昌站), then take a taxi or local public transportation to the temple.

If traveling from Hangzhou or Shaoxing, you can also consider a private car or a local tour.

Tickets and Opening Hours

Admission has been listed at approximately RMB 80 per adult, although prices and promotional policies may change.

The scenic area generally opens around 6:00 a.m. and closes between 5:00 and 5:30 p.m., depending on the season. Check the official scenic area’s latest announcements before visiting, especially if you plan to climb the pagoda.

What to Eat

You can enjoy vegetarian noodles inside the temple. When I visited, a bowl cost RMB 28. It was a simple, light, and refreshing meal.

Afterward, consider exploring Wozhou Street and trying some of Xinchang’s local specialties:

  • Xinchang fried rice cakes – a delicious local specialty.
  • Taro dumplings (芋饺) – chewy dumplings made with taro and filled with savory ingredients.
  • Guolatou (锅拉头) – a traditional local snack made with glutinous rice dough.

These local foods are a wonderful way to experience the culinary culture of the region.

More Than a Filming Location

What impressed me most about the Grand Buddha Temple was that its beauty went far beyond the scenes I had watched on television.

Popular dramas may bring people here, but the real treasures are the centuries of history, the extraordinary Buddhist sculptures, and the peaceful atmosphere that has been preserved through generations.

The ancient Maitreya Buddha, carved patiently into the mountain more than 1,500 years ago, reminds us of the devotion, determination, and artistic talent of those who came before us.

In our modern world, where everything moves so quickly, places like this invite us to slow down, look more carefully, and appreciate the beauty of history, art, nature, and spiritual culture.

I came here because of a television drama, but I left with something much more meaningful: a deeper appreciation of China’s remarkable Buddhist heritage.

Sometimes, a journey that begins with curiosity leads us to discover something truly extraordinary.

If you ever travel to Zhejiang, don’t miss the Grand Buddha Temple of Xinchang. It may surprise you, just as it surprised me.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/10/30/a-hidden-buddhist-wonderland-in-china-discover-the-1600-year-old-grand-buddha-temple-of-xinchang/

Can Goodness Change Our Destiny? An Inspiring Buddhist Story About Karma

What if a frightening encounter could become the beginning of a spiritual awakening? What if the actions we take today could change the course of our future?

An ancient Buddhist parable offers a thought-provoking answer.

According to A Collection of Various Parables from the Sutras (Zhongjing Zhuan Za Piyu, Volume Two), long ago, Śakra, the ruler of the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven, and the Great Brahmā King were close friends.

One day, the Great Brahmā King visited Śakra and found him deeply troubled.

“Why are you so unhappy?” he asked.

Śakra replied, “When heavenly beings exhaust their accumulated heavenly blessings, they must be reborn elsewhere. If they have not cultivated goodness and accumulated merit, they may fall into the lower realms and suffer. I see fewer and fewer beings cultivating virtue, while more seem to be heading toward suffering. How can I not be worried?”

Moved by his friend’s concern, the Great Brahmā King proposed a plan.

“Let us descend to the human world to guide people toward goodness. You can transform yourself into a fierce lion, and I will appear as a Brahmin. Together, we can teach people the Dharma and encourage them to cultivate virtue and accumulate merit.”

The two heavenly kings then descended to a small kingdom.

Roaring lion statue overlooking people fleeing an ancient fortified city

Śakra, transformed into a mighty lion, appeared at the city gate and roared, “I want to eat people!”

The terrified citizens had no idea what to do. The Brahmin, who was actually the Great Brahmā King in disguise, offered a solution: “Why not give the lion thirty prisoners who have already been sentenced to death? Perhaps then it will leave the city alone.”

The people accepted his suggestion, and the thirty prisoners were handed over to the lion.

Instead of devouring them, however, the lion drove them into the mountains.

There, Śakra appeared in human form and offered the prisoners a way to save their lives.

“If you sincerely take refuge in the Three Jewels—the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha—observe the Five Precepts, and practice the Ten Virtuous Deeds, purifying your actions of body, speech, and mind, the lion will spare you.”

Illustrated monk beside sign reading “Five Precepts – refrain from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, and intoxicants.”

Desperate for a second chance at life, the prisoners sincerely accepted his guidance. They took the Five Precepts and resolved to practice the Ten Virtuous Deeds.

True to his word, the lion did not harm them. Instead, he released them and allowed them to return home.

The lion warned them, however, that if they abandoned their virtuous conduct and failed to cultivate goodness, he would return.

One Person’s Transformation Can Inspire Many

When the thirty prisoners returned safely, the people were astonished. They asked how they had escaped the lion.

The former prisoners explained that a wise spiritual teacher had taught them to take refuge in the Three Jewels, observe the Five Precepts, and practice the Ten Virtuous Deeds. Through this encounter, they had found a path toward a better life.

Before long, the lion returned to the city.

Once again, the people were terrified. Remembering what had happened to the thirty prisoners, many came forward to receive the precepts and practice virtuous deeds.

The Great Brahmā King, appearing as the Brahmin, and Śakra, appearing as the lion, continued their journey through more than eighty thousand kingdoms, guiding countless people toward goodness.

According to the parable, those who cultivated virtue and accumulated merit during their lives would enjoy favorable rebirths and heavenly blessings after death.

The story concludes with the Buddha explaining its deeper significance to Ānanda.

Śakra, who had appeared as the lion, was the Buddha himself in a former life. The Great Brahmā King, who had appeared as the Brahmin, was Mahākāśyapa, one of the Buddha’s great disciples.

Because Mahākāśyapa had helped him guide countless beings toward the Dharma in that former life, the Buddha later honored him by sharing his seat with him. This gesture expressed gratitude for the assistance he had received on the path of benefiting living beings.

What Can We Learn From This Story Today?

At first glance, this parable may seem to be about a frightening lion and a miraculous escape from death. But its deeper message is about the power of moral transformation.

In Buddhism, our actions matter. What we do, say, and think shapes our character and influences the direction of our lives. Although we cannot control every circumstance we encounter, we can choose how we respond and what kind of person we become.

Ten Virtuous Deeds: Actions of the Body—protecting life, generosity, respectful conduct; Actions of Speech—truthful, harmonizing, kind, meaningful speech; Actions of the Mind—contentment, loving-kindness, right understanding.

The Five Precepts encourage us to refrain from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, and intoxicants that lead to heedlessness. The Ten Virtuous Deeds further encourage us to avoid harmful actions and cultivate goodness through our body, speech, and mind.

These teachings are not merely ancient religious rules. They offer practical guidance for living with greater honesty, compassion, self-discipline, and respect for others.

We may not encounter a fierce lion at our city gates, but we face challenges every day. Anger can threaten our relationships. Greed can lead us to make harmful decisions. Jealousy and resentment can rob us of peace. Dishonesty may bring temporary advantages but gradually erode trust.

Each moment offers us a choice: to follow our impulses or to cultivate wisdom and goodness.

The story also reminds us that one person’s transformation can inspire an entire community. When the thirty prisoners returned home with a new understanding of virtue, their experience encouraged others to change. In the same way, a person who lives honestly, treats others with compassion, and acts responsibly can influence a family, a workplace, and even a wider community.

We do not always need grand gestures to make a difference. Sometimes, a kind word, an honest decision, a willingness to forgive, or a helping hand is enough to plant a seed of goodness in another person’s heart.

Finally, the Buddha’s gesture of sharing his seat with Mahākāśyapa offers another valuable lesson: never forget the kindness of those who help us grow. Gratitude is not merely a feeling; it is something we demonstrate through our actions and our willingness to help others in return.

We cannot know everything the future holds, but we can begin shaping it through the choices we make today.

Perhaps the most important question is not simply whether we will receive blessings in the future, but whether we are cultivating the causes of a wiser, kinder, and more compassionate life right now.

Every good thought, every honest word, and every compassionate act is a seed. We may not see its fruit immediately, but no sincere effort toward goodness is wasted.

Person meditating cross-legged beside a river with magical energy swirls around

If we wish to change our destiny, perhaps the best place to begin is with ourselves.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/10/28/can-goodness-change-our-destiny-an-inspiring-buddhist-story-about-karma/

A Hidden Treasure in China: The Dazu Rock Carvings and a 31-Meter Reclining Buddha

Beyond Chongqing’s dazzling skyline lies an extraordinary world of ancient Buddhist art, spiritual wisdom, and forgotten stories carved into stone.

When people visit Chongqing, China, they often come for its spectacular mountain cityscape, glowing skyscrapers, and famous spicy hot pot. But about a journey away in Dazu lies a treasure that deserves far more international attention: the Dazu Rock Carvings, one of China’s most remarkable collections of ancient religious art.

Here, along the cliffs of Baodingshan, thousands of figures tell stories of the Buddha, compassion, karma, filial devotion, and the consequences of our actions. Created mainly during the Song Dynasty, these remarkable sculptures have survived for centuries, preserving not only religious teachings but also glimpses of everyday Chinese life.

The Dazu Rock Carvings were inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1999. Their artistic beauty lies not only in their scale and craftsmanship, but also in the way Buddhist, Taoist, and Confucian ideas come together in a uniquely Chinese expression of spiritual life.

The Dazu Rock Carvings are not a single cave or monument. They comprise more than 70 protected sites, with five principal groups: Baodingshan, Beishan, Nanshan, Shizhuanshan, and Shimenshan.

The carvings date mainly from the late ninth through the thirteenth century. Baodingshan, the focus of this visit, reached its artistic height during the Southern Song Dynasty, particularly under the direction of the Buddhist monk Zhao Zhifeng.

Walking along the great cliff at Baodingshan, visitors encounter an astonishing procession of sculpted figures. Buddhas sit in meditation, bodhisattvas offer protection, and heavenly beings fill elaborate niches. Some figures are monumental, while others are small details that reward a closer look.

Unlike a collection of isolated statues, the carvings form a connected visual narrative. Each scene has a purpose, inviting visitors to contemplate the Buddha’s teachings through images rather than words alone.

For people who love Buddhist history, this is a place where ancient stone seems to speak.

The Giant Reclining Buddha: A Vision of Peace

One of Baodingshan’s most extraordinary masterpieces is the monumental image of Shakyamuni Buddha entering parinirvana, the final passing of a fully enlightened Buddha beyond the cycle of rebirth.

The reclining Buddha measures approximately 31 meters in length. Yet one of the most ingenious features of the sculpture is that much of the figure remains concealed within the cliff. Only part of the Buddha’s body is visible, suggesting a vastness that extends beyond what the eye can see.

This is more than an impressive feat of ancient engineering. The image carries a profound spiritual meaning.

The Buddha lies peacefully on his side, his expression calm and composed. Around him, figures gather in response to his final passing. The scene invites us to reflect on impermanence: everything that comes into being will eventually change.

In Buddhist teaching, death is not simply an ending to be feared. It is a reminder to understand the nature of existence and to use the precious time we have wisely.

Standing before this enormous figure, we may find ourselves thinking less about how long we will live and more about how we choose to live.

Can we be kinder while we have the opportunity? Can we let go of unnecessary resentment? Can we bring more peace to the people around us?

Perhaps the Buddha’s quiet presence offers a lesson that no words could express more clearly.

The Thousand-Hand Guanyin: A Thousand Ways to Help

Another masterpiece at Baodingshan is the magnificent Thousand-Hand, Thousand-Eye Guanyin, the bodhisattva of compassion.

In Buddhist tradition, Guanyin (Avalokiteshvara) represents compassionate awareness of the suffering of sentient beings. The many hands symbolize the ability to reach out in countless ways, while the eyes represent the wisdom to recognize where help is needed.

The Baodingshan sculpture is especially remarkable. Its carved composition covers approximately 88 square meters and includes 1,007 hands and eyes. The gilded image, with its intricate details and radiant appearance, demonstrates the extraordinary skill of the artisans who created it.

Imagine the patience required to shape and decorate so many delicate details into a cliff face centuries ago, without modern machinery.

The work has also required care across generations. Because of its delicate condition, the sculpture underwent a major restoration completed in 2015, helping preserve this irreplaceable treasure for future visitors.

But its deepest beauty lies in its message.

Compassion is not merely feeling sorry for someone. It is recognizing suffering and responding when we can. Sometimes help means giving money; sometimes it means offering food, listening without judgment, or protecting a vulnerable being.

We may not possess a thousand hands, but we can each find small ways to make life easier for others.

Ancient Stone Tells Stories About How We Should Live

What makes Baodingshan especially fascinating is that its sculptures do not focus exclusively on Buddhas and heavenly beings. They also portray ordinary human experiences, making the teachings relevant to everyday life.

Some panels illustrate filial devotion and the sacrifices parents make for their children. Others portray farmers, herders, animals, and scenes from ordinary life.

The famous scenes associated with the Sutra on Parental Love remind viewers of the immense care and sacrifice involved in raising a child. These images invite reflection on gratitude toward our parents and the responsibilities we have toward those who have cared for us.

Other carvings illustrate Buddhist teachings about karma and the Wheel of Life. They show how actions have consequences and how ignorance, attachment, and harmful behavior can perpetuate suffering.

In traditional Buddhist depictions of the realms of suffering, the consequences of harmful actions are portrayed vividly. Such images were not simply intended to frighten people. They offered moral instruction to communities in which many people could learn through visual storytelling.

The cliffs function almost like an ancient illustrated book. Each carving presents a lesson about cause and effect, compassion, family responsibility, and the choices that shape our lives.

There is something remarkable about this approach to teaching. The artists transformed abstract philosophy into images that people could see, contemplate, and remember.

Ox herding story (scene 1–2), Niche 30, Dafowan, Mt. Baoding, Dazu. Southern Song Dynasty (photos: G41rn8, CC BY-SA 4.0)

Centuries later, the questions remain relevant. How do our actions affect others? How should we treat our parents, our neighbors, and animals? What kind of world are we helping to create through our daily choices?

A Quiet Encounter with History

One of the pleasures of visiting Baodingshan is the opportunity to experience the carvings at a slower pace.

Although the site can attract tour groups, it may feel quieter than China’s most famous grotto destinations, particularly outside peak travel periods. The path follows the sculpted cliff, allowing visitors to examine the works in sequence.

Instead of rushing from one photo opportunity to another, take time to notice the expressions on the statues’ faces, the folds of their robes, and the relationships between the figures in each scene.

Look for the small details. A single gesture may communicate reverence, compassion, fear, or devotion. A group of ordinary people carved into stone can reveal as much about the society that created the monument as a grand Buddha does.

Photography rules and access restrictions may vary around individual carvings, so follow the site’s instructions and avoid touching the sculptures.

For visitors interested in Buddhism, art, or Chinese history, Baodingshan offers a rare chance to experience these subjects together.

What to Eat in Dazu: A Taste of Local Chongqing

A visit to Dazu would not be complete without exploring the region’s food culture. Chongqing is famous for bold flavors, chili peppers, and the numbing fragrance of Sichuan peppercorns, but Dazu also has specialties of its own.

Dazu winter-preserved vegetables (Dazu dongcai)

If you try only one local specialty, consider Dazu dongcai. Made from local mustard greens and traditionally fermented for years, these preserved vegetables have a distinctive savory fragrance and deep flavor. They appear in dishes such as fried rice, noodles, steamed buns, and braised pork.

The traditional preparation is a recognized part of Dazu’s food heritage. It is a wonderful example of how local ingredients and preservation techniques can become part of a region’s identity.

Chongqing noodles

For a quick, satisfying meal, try xiaomian, Chongqing-style noodles commonly served with chili oil, garlic, scallions, and other seasonings. They are especially popular for breakfast, though they can be enjoyed at any time of day.

If you prefer less spice, ask for a mild version. The chili oil and Sichuan peppercorns can be surprisingly intense for first-time visitors.

Youting crucian carp

For travelers who enjoy fish, Youting crucian carp is another regional specialty, often prepared with pickled ginger, chili, and fermented black beans. Its flavor combines freshness, spice, and the characteristic numbing sensation of Sichuan-style cooking. Hot pot and local street food

If you are continuing to Chongqing, save time for the city’s famous hot pot. Diners cook ingredients in a bubbling broth at the table, often choosing between a fiery spicy broth and a milder one.

One practical tip: many local dishes contain meat, fish, animal broth, or lard, even when vegetables are prominent. Vegetarian travelers should ask clearly about ingredients and request a vegetable-based broth when available.

Food is another way to understand a place. The ingredients, flavors, and cooking methods of Dazu tell a story of local agriculture, tradition, and the creativity of generations of cooks.

Shengshou Temple & Dazu Rock Carvings Museum

Travel Tips: Planning Your Visit

How much time should you allow?

Allow at least half a day for Baodingshan, including time to appreciate the major carvings without rushing. If you are particularly interested in Buddhist art, consider spending a full day in Dazu or adding another major carving site, such as Beishan.

How do you get there?

Dazu is part of Chongqing Municipality, but it lies outside the central urban area. From downtown Chongqing, the journey commonly takes around 1.5–2 hours by road, depending on traffic and your starting point.

You can travel by intercity bus or arrange a private car. High-speed rail services to the Dazu area may also be useful, but check the station and onward transportation carefully: a train station serving the district is not necessarily close to the rock-carving entrance. A taxi or prearranged transfer may be needed.

When is the best time to visit?

Spring and autumn are generally comfortable seasons for walking and sightseeing. Summer can be hot and humid, so bring water, sun protection, and comfortable shoes.

Arriving early can help you enjoy the main carvings before the busiest hours, although visitor numbers vary by day and season. Check the official opening hours and ticket arrangements before traveling.

Can you combine Dazu with Chongqing?

Absolutely. A two-day itinerary is a practical option:

  • Day 1: Explore Chongqing’s mountain-city streets, river views, Hongyadong, and local food.
  • Day 2: Travel to Dazu and spend the day discovering Baodingshan’s cliff carvings. If time permits, consider visiting Beishan as well.

If you have a deeper interest in Chinese Buddhist art, an overnight stay near Dazu can make the experience more relaxed.

A Treasure Worth Discovering

The Dazu Rock Carvings remind us that great works of art can be much more than beautiful objects. They can preserve a civilization’s beliefs, record the lives of ordinary people, and communicate moral lessons across centuries.

The 31-meter reclining Buddha invites us to contemplate impermanence. The Thousand-Hand Guanyin reminds us that compassion must find expression in action. The scenes of family life and everyday labor encourage us to consider gratitude, responsibility, and the consequences of our choices.

These teachings remain meaningful regardless of where we come from or what faith we follow.

If your travels take you to Chongqing, consider setting aside time for Dazu. Beyond the city’s dazzling skyline lies a quieter world where stone preserves the wisdom, artistry, and aspirations of generations long gone.

Some treasures are not discovered by looking up at the tallest buildings. They are found by slowing down, looking closely, and listening to the stories history has left behind.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/10/22/a-hidden-treasure-in-china-the-dazu-rock-carvings-and-a-31-meter-reclining-buddha/

Atisha: The Buddhist Master Who Followed Tara’s Guidance to Tibet

His remarkable journey, the devotion of Tibetan kings, and the legendary guidance of Tara

More than nine hundred years ago, an Indian Buddhist master undertook a difficult journey to Tibet that would profoundly influence the future of Tibetan Buddhism. His name was Atisha Dipankara Shrijnana (982–1054), a renowned scholar, meditation master, and spiritual teacher whose life was devoted to the liberation and well-being of sentient beings.

His story is not simply about the spread of a religion. It is about the power of compassion, the courage to leave behind worldly comfort, and the willingness to sacrifice personal interests for the benefit of others.

A Prince Who Chose the Spiritual Path

According to traditional biographies, Atisha was born into a royal family in eastern India. His birth name was Chandragarbha, and he grew up surrounded by the wealth and privileges of palace life.

Yet he was not satisfied with worldly success. Even as a young man, he felt drawn toward spiritual practice and the search for a deeper understanding of life.

Traditional accounts relate that Tara, the female Buddha associated with enlightened compassion and swift assistance, appeared to him in a vision when he was young. This encounter strengthened his determination to follow the spiritual path rather than pursue the life expected of a prince.

Atisha eventually renounced his royal future and became a monk. He studied with many distinguished Buddhist masters and developed an extraordinary command of Buddhist philosophy, meditation, ethics, and tantric teachings.

But one of the most important influences on his life came from a journey far beyond India.

Atisha traveled by sea to Suvarnadvipa, traditionally identified with present-day Sumatra, where he studied for twelve years under the great master Dharmakirti, also known as Serlingpa in Tibetan tradition.

There, Atisha received profound teachings on bodhichitta—the aspiration to attain enlightenment for the benefit of all sentient beings.

He later regarded these teachings as among the most precious gifts he had received. His life reminds us that genuine wisdom requires more than accumulating knowledge. It requires cultivating a heart that sincerely wishes to benefit others.

By the eleventh century, Buddhism in Tibet was undergoing a period of revival after earlier political upheavals and the disruption of Buddhist institutions.

The rulers of western Tibet wished to restore the teachings and strengthen the understanding and practice of the Dharma. They were particularly concerned about confusion surrounding Buddhist doctrine and the relationship between different forms of practice.

King Yeshe Ö became deeply committed to finding a qualified Indian Buddhist master who could help Tibetans recover a clear and systematic understanding of the teachings.

According to traditional Tibetan accounts, he sent young Tibetans to India to study Sanskrit and search for an appropriate teacher. Their journeys were dangerous, and many did not return.

Eventually, the name of Atisha emerged as that of a master whose learning, discipline, and compassion made him especially suitable for the mission.

The king’s efforts to invite him became one of the most moving stories in Tibetan Buddhist history.

Traditional biographies recount that Yeshe Ö was captured during his efforts to gather resources for the mission. When his nephew Jangchub Ö was unable to meet the captor’s demands for his release, Yeshe Ö urged him not to spend the remaining gold on rescuing him. Instead, he asked his nephew to use it to invite Atisha to Tibet.

In this traditional account, the king placed the future of the Dharma above his own life.

Whether every detail of this story can be historically verified or not, its spiritual message is unmistakable: the king believed that preserving the Dharma for future generations was more important than his personal safety.

After Yeshe Ö’s death, his nephew Jangchub Ö continued the mission. He sent the translator Nagtso to India with an earnest request for Atisha to come and help the people of Tibet.

Tara’s Guidance: A Decision That Changed History

Atisha did not immediately agree to leave India.

He was already an established teacher at Vikramashila, one of the great Buddhist monastic universities of the time. Leaving would mean abandoning familiar surroundings, colleagues, and responsibilities for a long and uncertain journey into a distant land.

Goddess in blue robe sitting on a lotus flower surrounded by lotus pond and traditional Asian pagodas at dusk

Traditional biographies tell us that Atisha sought guidance from Tara, his revered spiritual protector.

According to these accounts, Tara appeared to him in a vision and explained that traveling to Tibet would bring great benefit to the Dharma, although it would shorten his life.

Atisha faced a profound choice: remain in India, where he could continue his work in familiar surroundings, or travel to Tibet, where his help was urgently needed.

The traditional story says that he chose Tibet, accepting the personal cost because he believed the journey would benefit countless beings.

This is one of the most inspiring parts of his life.

Tara’s appearance belongs to the spiritual narratives preserved by the Buddhist tradition; it is not something that can be independently established as a historical event. For devotees, however, the story expresses an important understanding of spiritual guidance: wisdom is not merely about choosing what is comfortable or advantageous for oneself, but discerning where one’s efforts can bring the greatest benefit.

In 1042, Atisha arrived in western Tibet, in the kingdom of Guge.

His arrival was a moment of great significance. According to traditional accounts, monks, laypeople, and local leaders gathered to welcome him in a grand procession. People had traveled to meet the Indian master whose arrival they hoped would strengthen the Dharma in their homeland.

Imagine the scene: after years of hardship and repeated efforts to bring him to Tibet, the people finally welcomed the teacher for whom they had waited so long.

Tibetan people welcoming an Indian guru

Atisha was deeply moved by their enthusiasm. He was also impressed by the intelligence and dedication of the Tibetan practitioners he encountered.

Yet he recognized that many people needed a clearer understanding of how the various Buddhist teachings fit together and how they could be applied in everyday life.

King Jangchub Ö therefore asked him to teach in a way that ordinary people could understand and practice.

Rather than asking for teachings that sounded profound but were difficult to apply, the king wanted guidance on ethical conduct, karma, compassion, and the steps that lead toward enlightenment.

Atisha responded by composing one of his most influential works, A Lamp for the Path to Enlightenment (Bodhipathapradipa).

This concise text organized the Buddhist path into a clear framework, integrating ethical discipline, the cultivation of wisdom, and the development of bodhichitta. It became a foundational influence on later Tibetan Buddhist teachings about the stages of the path to enlightenment.

Atisha did not merely bring more books or philosophical ideas to Tibet. He helped present the Dharma as a coherent path that people could study, contemplate, and practice.

A Statue of Tara That Could Speak

Among the many fascinating stories associated with Atisha is the tradition that sacred images spoke to him.

This is the statue of Tara that Venerable Atisha is said to have kept with him at all times. According to tradition, the statue once spoke to him and communicated with him.
The statue is now enshrined at Tara Temple (Drolma Lhakhang) in Lhasa, Tibet.

According to his traditional biography, while circumambulating the great Buddhist stupa at Bodh Gaya in India, Atisha heard sacred statues speaking about the importance of bodhichitta. Their message was that the essential path to enlightenment lay in cultivating love, compassion, and the aspiration to benefit all beings.

The story is a reminder that, within Buddhist devotional traditions, sacred images are not always regarded as mere objects of art. They can serve as powerful reminders of the qualities that practitioners seek to develop.

Tara held a particularly important place in Atisha’s spiritual life. Traditional accounts describe her appearing in visions to guide him, including in his decision to travel to Tibet.

These narratives are cherished by many Buddhist practitioners as expressions of faith and spiritual inspiration. They are best understood as traditional religious accounts rather than independently verified historical events.

Whether one approaches them through faith, cultural history, or symbolic interpretation, their central message is meaningful: spiritual guidance should lead us toward greater compassion, wisdom, and responsibility for others.

What Can Atisha Teach Us Today?

Atisha lived in a very different world from ours, yet the questions he faced remain familiar.

We live in a time when information is abundant, opinions are everywhere, and people often disagree about what is true. It is easy to accumulate knowledge without allowing it to transform our behavior.

Atisha’s life points toward another way.

First, knowledge must be accompanied by practice. Learning about compassion is not the same as treating people compassionately. Understanding karma is not merely discussing cause and effect; it is taking responsibility for our intentions, words, and actions.

Second, true spiritual growth requires humility. Despite his extensive education, Atisha continued to learn from qualified teachers. His example reminds us that wisdom is not a reason to feel superior to others. It is an opportunity to understand ourselves more deeply and serve others more effectively.

Third, compassion sometimes asks us to step beyond our comfort zone. Atisha left a respected position in India to help people far away. We may never be called to undertake such a journey, but we can respond to the needs around us—in our families, communities, and wider world.

Sometimes compassion means giving our time. Sometimes it means listening patiently, helping someone in difficulty, or admitting that we were wrong. Small actions, when guided by sincere concern for others, can also make a meaningful difference.

Finally, Atisha’s story reminds us that the most valuable teachings are those that help us change our lives. The Dharma is not simply something to admire from a distance. It is a path to be walked.

The Light That Continues to Shine

Atisha passed away in Tibet in 1054, but his influence did not end with his life. His writings, his disciples, and the traditions that developed from his teachings helped shape the course of Tibetan Buddhism.

His journey was made possible by the devotion of Tibetan rulers, the dedication of translators and messengers, and the willingness of a great teacher to respond to a distant people’s spiritual needs.

The story of Atisha and Tara adds another dimension to this legacy: the belief that a life guided by wisdom and compassion can accomplish far more than a life devoted only to personal success.

We may not be able to travel across mountains to revive a Buddhist tradition, as Atisha did. But each of us has opportunities to bring a little more understanding into the world.

We can study sincerely, practice humbly, and treat others with compassion. We can use what we know not to elevate ourselves above others, but to lessen suffering wherever possible.

Perhaps this is one of the most enduring lessons of Atisha’s life: the true light of the Dharma shines not only through what a person teaches, but through the compassion that person is willing to put into action.

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2026/10/21/atisha-the-buddhist-master-who-followed-taras-guidance-to-tibet/

Do We Truly Practice What We Learn? A Timeless Lesson from the Buddha

We live in an age when information is everywhere. We can read books, listen to lectures, memorize wise sayings, and discuss spiritual teachings with others. Yet an important question remains: Has what we learned truly changed the way we live?

A story from the Dhammapada, verses 19 and 20, offers a powerful answer.

Two Monks, Two Different Paths

During the Buddha’s time, two monks from noble families were close friends. One became highly learned in the Buddhist scriptures. He mastered the Tripitaka, taught many monks, and became a respected teacher.

The other monk chose a different emphasis. He devoted himself diligently to meditation and the direct practice of the Dharma. Through sustained effort, he attained Arhatship, the state of liberation described in the Buddhist tradition.

One day, the two monks met at Jetavana Monastery. The learned monk did not realize that his old friend had attained such a high level of spiritual realization. Looking down on him because he knew fewer scriptures, he intended to test him with difficult questions and expose his lack of knowledge.

The Buddha understood what was happening. Out of compassion, he intervened and questioned the two monks himself.

The learned monk could answer questions about teachings he had studied, but he could not answer questions concerning spiritual attainments he had never personally experienced. His friend, through diligent practice and realization, answered correctly.

The Buddha praised the monk who had put the Dharma into practice.

When the other monks wondered why their learned teacher had not received the same praise, the Buddha explained the difference between knowing the teachings and living them.

He compared the person who recites the Dharma without practicing it to a hired cowherd who counts and tends another person’s cattle. Although he spends his days among the cattle, he does not own them or enjoy their produce. By contrast, the person who practices the Dharma receives its genuine benefits.

The lesson was not that learning is useless. Rather, knowledge becomes truly valuable when we put it into practice.

1. Knowing the Truth Is Not the Same as Living It

We may know that anger harms us, yet lose our temper when someone criticizes us. We may understand that greed brings dissatisfaction, yet continue to compare our possessions with those of others. We may speak beautifully about compassion, yet turn away when someone needs our help.

Why does this happen?

Because understanding something intellectually is not the same as transforming our habits, thoughts, and actions.

We can memorize a hundred teachings about patience, but patience is tested when someone treats us unfairly. We can read countless passages about forgiveness, but their meaning becomes real when we face someone who has hurt us.

The same is true of kindness, humility, and generosity. They are not demonstrated merely by what we say we believe, but by how we respond when life becomes difficult.

The real question is not simply, “How much do I know?” It is, “How much of what I know have I put into practice?”

2. Spiritual Pride Can Become an Obstacle

The learned monk’s greatest mistake was not his knowledge. It was his pride.

Because he knew more scriptures, he assumed that he was spiritually superior to his friend. He judged another person’s attainment by what he could see and measure, without understanding what had taken place within that person’s mind.

How easily can we make the same mistake?

We may judge others by their education, profession, wealth, social position, religious knowledge, or public reputation. Even in spiritual communities, people can become attached to titles, recognition, and the appearance of being wise.

Yet genuine wisdom should make us more humble, not more arrogant.

The more deeply we understand ourselves, the more carefully we should judge others. We rarely know the full extent of another person’s struggles, efforts, or inner growth.

A quiet person may possess a depth of kindness we have not yet developed. Someone who speaks little about spirituality may live with greater patience and compassion than someone who speaks about it every day.

We should therefore be cautious about assuming that outward appearances reveal a person’s true spiritual condition.

3. The Dharma Must Transform Our Everyday Lives

The Buddha’s teaching is not meant to remain confined to books, temples, or meditation halls. Its value is revealed in the ordinary moments of daily life.

When someone offends us, can we pause before reacting?

When we see another person succeed, can we feel happy for them instead of becoming jealous?

When we make a mistake, can we admit it honestly rather than finding excuses?

When someone needs help, can we offer what we reasonably can without constantly asking what we will receive in return?

These moments may seem small, but they are opportunities to practice.

Buddhist teachings emphasize overcoming greed, hatred, and delusion. This does not happen simply because we can explain these concepts. It requires observing our own minds, recognizing unwholesome tendencies, and repeatedly choosing a wiser response.

Every time we replace anger with patience, selfishness with generosity, or prejudice with understanding, we take a step toward making our lives more consistent with what we believe.

Spiritual practice is not only what happens when we close our eyes in meditation. It is also what happens when we open them and meet the world.

4. From Collecting Knowledge to Cultivating Wisdom

Today, we can spend hours watching inspirational videos, listening to spiritual talks, and sharing meaningful quotations on social media. These activities can be helpful, but they can also create the illusion that we are growing simply because we are constantly consuming information.

Sometimes, one teaching sincerely practiced is more valuable than a hundred teachings merely remembered.

Instead of asking how many books we have read, perhaps we should ask whether we have become more patient. Instead of counting how many spiritual talks we have attended, we might reflect on whether we have become more compassionate toward our families, friends, strangers, and even those with whom we disagree.

We do not need to master every scripture before beginning to practice. We can start with what we already understand.

If we learn about compassion, we can practice it today. If we learn about impermanence, we can cherish the people and moments we have instead of taking them for granted. If we learn about letting go, we can begin by loosening our grip on one resentment or one unnecessary desire.

Knowledge points the way. Practice helps us walk it.

The story of the two monks invites us to look inward rather than use spiritual knowledge to measure other people.

At the end of each day, we might quietly ask ourselves:

  • Was I kinder today than I was yesterday?*
  • Did I respond to difficulties with greater patience and understanding?*
  • Did my words and actions reflect the values I claim to believe in?*

We will not always succeed. We may still become angry, act selfishly, or make mistakes. The purpose of reflection is not to condemn ourselves, but to recognize where we can improve and begin again.

True progress does not require us to appear perfect before others. It requires the honesty to see ourselves clearly and the willingness to change.

The Buddha’s message in these verses remains as relevant today as it was more than two thousand years ago: reciting the teachings alone does not bring their full benefit. We must embody them in our lives.

The measure of wisdom is not simply how much we know, but how deeply that knowledge transforms the way we think, speak, and treat others.

May we learn not merely to speak about the Dharma, but to live it—one thought, one word, and one action at a time.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/10/15/do-we-truly-practice-what-we-learn-a-timeless-lesson-from-the-buddha/

The Monk Whose Body Survived Five Days in the Fire

What happens to the body after death?

For most of us, the answer seems obvious. The body eventually returns to the elements. Yet in Buddhist history, there are extraordinary stories of great practitioners whose remains have been preserved in ways that inspire generations of people.

One such story is that of the Seventeenth Ganjurwa Khutukhtu, a highly respected Tibetan-Mongolian Buddhist master whose life eventually brought him to Taiwan.

A Life Devoted to Buddhism

Ganjurwa Khutukhtu was born in 1914 in the Amdo region of Qinghai. According to historical accounts preserved by the Ganjurwa Hermitage, he was recognized as a reincarnated spiritual master when he was very young.

As a child, he entered the monastery and devoted himself to Buddhist study and practice. He later studied at Wudangzhao, one of Inner Mongolia’s important Buddhist monasteries, and received full Buddhist monastic ordination from the Ninth Panchen Lama.

In 1949, he came to Taiwan. From there, he spent many years teaching Buddhism, giving Dharma teachings and initiations, and traveling to places including Hong Kong, Thailand, Cambodia, Canada, and the United States.

He was also elected chairman of the Buddhist Association of the Republic of China in 1957, following the passing of the Seventh Zhangjia Khutukhtu. Yet despite his respected position, accounts of his life describe him as a person who preferred spiritual practice and a quiet life to fame and status.

Eventually, he settled at Ganjurwa Hermitage (甘珠精舍) in Xindian, Taiwan, where he continued his practice and taught the Dharma.

Five Days and Five Nights in the Fire

The most extraordinary chapter of his story came after his death.

Ganjurwa Khutukhtu passed away peacefully at Ganjurwa Hermitage on June 13, 1978, at the age of 65.

On June 29, his body was taken to Fayusi Temple in Beitou for the traditional Buddhist cremation ceremony, known as tuhuo or j̄hāpiṭa (荼毗).

According to accounts preserved by the hermitage and Taiwan’s Veterans Affairs Council, the fire continued for five days and five nights.

When the cremation chamber was opened, those present were reportedly astonished. Rather than finding only ashes, they found that the master’s body had remained largely intact. His robes and prayer beads were reportedly still recognizable.

His disciples regarded this as an extraordinary manifestation of a vajra-indestructible body and preserved the remains as sacred relics.

For Buddhists, such accounts are not simply about the physical body. They point toward a deeper question:

Can spiritual practice transform the way we understand life, death, and impermanence?

A Sculpture Created to Preserve His Sacred Remains

There is another remarkable part of this story.

To preserve the master’s remains, his disciples invited two of Taiwan’s most important modern sculptors, Yang Ying-Feng (楊英風) and Ju Ming (朱銘), to create a bronze statue.

The sacred remains were placed inside the sculpture, and the statue was installed at Ganjurwa Hermitage so that devotees could continue to pay their respects.

According to the Veterans Affairs Council, the full-body relics of Ganjurwa Khutukhtu remain enshrined there today.

It is an unusual meeting of Buddhism, history, sculpture, and faith—a spiritual legacy preserved not only through religious practice, but also through the hands of two remarkable Taiwanese artists.

Whether one approaches this story through faith, history, or simply human curiosity, it raises a profound question:

What remains of a person after the body is gone?

A building can disappear. Wealth can be lost. Fame eventually fades.

But wisdom, compassion, and the example of a life devoted to helping others can continue long after a person has left this world.

Perhaps this is the deeper meaning behind the story of Ganjurwa Khutukhtu.

The most precious legacy of a spiritual master may not be the physical remains left behind.

It may be the Dharma he taught, the lives he touched, and the goodness he inspired in others.

And perhaps that is the kind of legacy worth leaving behind.

A glowing lotus flower with pastel colors floating on water under moonlight.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/10/09/the-monk-whose-body-survived-five-days-in-the-fire/

Source: https://www.storm.mg/article/4494305, http://m.fosss.net/SheLi/GanZhu/Index.html

We Spend So Much Time Trying to Live Longer—But Are We Learning How to Live Better?

Modern people are fascinated by longevity.

We study nutrition, exercise, sleep, supplements, medical treatments, and the latest science of aging. We count our steps, monitor our heart rate, change our diets, and search for new ways to add more years to our lives.

But there is another kind of nourishment that is easy to overlook: the nourishment of the heart and spirit.

A Buddhist story from the Treasury of Miscellaneous Treasures (Za Bao Zang Jing) offers a beautiful perspective on this.

During the time of the Buddha, there was a wealthy elder whose young son was deeply loved.

According to the Buddhist scripture, when the child was about five or six years old, a fortune-teller examined him and said that the child had great blessings—but one serious weakness: his life would be short.

The father was devastated. He searched for ways to help his son live longer and eventually brought him to the Buddha.

The Buddha did not give him a special medicine or promise that death could simply be defeated.

Instead, the Buddha taught the child to cultivate humility, patience, and respect.

The child was instructed to respectfully bow to people entering and leaving the city.

One day, a being who had intended to take the child’s life appeared in the form of a Brahmin. When the child respectfully bowed to him, the being instinctively blessed him, saying, in essence, “May you have a long life.”

Because he had spoken those words, he could no longer go against them.

The scripture concludes that through the child’s humility, patience, and respectful conduct, his life was extended.

The story is recorded in Za Bao Zang Jing(杂宝藏经), Volume Four, in the story known as “The Elder’s Son Seeks Long Life from the Buddha.”

What If Longevity Is More Than Taking Care of the Body?

This ancient story makes me think about how differently we sometimes approach longevity today.

We are very concerned about what we put into our bodies, but perhaps we should also ask:

What are we putting into our hearts?

We carefully consider food, but what about anger?

We worry about toxins in the environment, but what about resentment?

We exercise our bodies, but do we exercise patience?

We try to strengthen our immune systems, but do we strengthen compassion?

We may spend years searching for ways to extend our physical lives while forgetting that the quality of those years also matters.

Many years ago, I heard an elderly Chinese doctor say something that stayed with me:

“Medicine nourishes the body, food nourishes the body better, movement nourishes it even more—but while nourishing the body, never forget to nourish the heart. Wherever you do good, there is nourishment.”

I have always loved the wisdom behind these simple words.

Taking care of our bodies is important. Eating well, exercising, sleeping properly, and receiving appropriate medical care all matter.

But perhaps taking care of the heart is another form of longevity practice.

What Are We Nourishing Every Day?

Every act leaves something behind in us.

When we constantly become angry, anger becomes easier.

When we hold on to resentment, resentment becomes heavier.

When we practice kindness, kindness becomes more natural.

When we help someone, we may discover that our own heart becomes lighter.

When we forgive, we release something that we have been carrying.

When we sincerely help others, perhaps we are not only giving something away—we are also nourishing something within ourselves.

This is one reason Buddhist teachings place such importance on compassion, generosity, patience, and wholesome actions.

The goal is not simply to have a longer life.

It is to cultivate a better life.

Of course, doing good should not be viewed as a transaction: “If I help others, I will definitely live longer.”

The deeper lesson is about how we live.

We can take care of our bodies while also taking care of our minds and hearts.

We can eat nutritious food and also “feed” ourselves with kindness.

We can exercise our bodies and also practice patience.

We can seek medical treatment when we are ill and, at the same time, work on releasing anger, jealousy, resentment, and fear.

Perhaps true wellness requires both.

Nourish the body, but do not forget to nourish the heart.

And perhaps the simplest nourishment is kindness.

What Kind of Life Are We Trying to Extend?

The Buddhist story of the young child does not tell us that we can control the length of our lives simply by doing good deeds. Life and death involve causes and conditions far beyond our understanding.

But the story reminds us of something important:

While we cannot completely control how long we live, we can pay attention to how we live.

Perhaps the question is not only:

“How can I live longer?”

but also:

“How can I make the years I have more compassionate, meaningful, and beneficial to others?”

Maybe that is another kind of longevity—one measured not only in years, but in the goodness we leave behind.

We spend so much time trying to add years to life.

Perhaps we should also spend some time adding life to our years.

Because sometimes, the best way to nourish ourselves is to nourish someone else.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/09/22/we-spend-so-much-time-trying-to-live-longer-but-are-we-learning-how-to-live-better/

What Are You Training Your Mind to Become?

Person running on treadmill inside gym with brain activation and flow diagram

A Buddhist Lesson from a Horse That Forgot How to Run

There is a fascinating story in the Da Zhuangyan Lun Jing (Sutra of Great Adornment).

A king once raised many excellent horses, originally prepared for battle. Because neighboring countries knew he possessed such strong horses, they were afraid to attack.

Horses powering a wooden grain mill in a spring mountain village

As the years passed without war, however, the horses were given to ordinary people for daily work. They were used to turn grinding mills. Day after day, year after year, the horses walked in circles around the mill.

Then one day, an enemy invaded.

The king quickly called the horses back and prepared them for battle. But when they reached the battlefield, something unexpected happened. Instead of charging forward, the horses continued walking in circles—the same movement they had practiced for years.

Even when the soldiers tried to drive them forward, the horses found it difficult to change.

The Da Zhuangyan Lun Jing uses this story to illustrate an important truth: what we repeatedly practice becomes our habit, and what becomes our habit can shape how we respond when it matters most.

The Circle We Walk Every Day

The most meaningful part of this story is that the horses did not suddenly learn to walk in circles on the battlefield.

They had practiced that circle for years.

Our minds can be like that too.

What do we do first when we wake up?

For many of us, we reach for our phones.

We check one message, then another. We watch one short video, then automatically swipe to the next. We see someone else’s life and begin comparing ourselves. We read a comment we dislike and immediately become irritated.

Each individual moment may seem insignificant.

But repeated thousands of times, these moments become habits.

And habits do more than organize our daily lives. They train our minds.

So perhaps an important question is not only:

“What did I do wrong today?”

but also:

“What am I teaching my mind to become?”

If we constantly train ourselves to seek the next notification, the next video, the next piece of stimulation, it should not surprise us when we later sit down to meditate, pray, or recite the Buddha’s name and find that our minds cannot remain still.

We may wonder, “Why is my mind so scattered?”

But the scattering did not begin when we sat down.

We simply became quiet enough to notice it.

We Are Always Practicing Something

This is where the Buddhist teaching of 熏习, xunxi—habitual conditioning or repeated imprinting becomes meaningful.

In Buddhist teachings, repeated actions of body, speech, and mind leave tendencies that influence what arises again in the future. In Yogācāra thought, the relationship between “seeds” and “manifestations” describes how repeated mental and behavioral patterns can strengthen similar tendencies.

If we repeatedly become angry, anger becomes an easier path to follow.

If we repeatedly compare ourselves with others, dissatisfaction and jealousy can become easier to generate.

If we constantly seek stimulation, restlessness can gradually become our normal state.

Person meditating cross-legged beside a river with magical energy swirls around

The same principle, however, can work in a wholesome direction.

If we repeatedly practice patience, patience becomes more familiar.

If we repeatedly practice gratitude, gratitude becomes easier to access.

If we repeatedly return our attention to the present moment, returning becomes easier.

If we repeatedly cultivate compassion, compassion can gradually become a more natural response.

This gives us a hopeful understanding of spiritual practice.

Every day, we are training the mind in one direction or another.

Practice is not simply about waiting until a difficult situation appears and then trying desperately to control ourselves.

It is about working with the mind before the battlefield arrives.

When someone says something unpleasant to us, can we pause before responding?

When anger arises, can we notice it before turning it into harsh words?

When we have a few empty minutes, must we immediately reach for the phone?

When disturbing thoughts appear, can we recognize them without automatically following them?

These small moments may seem ordinary.

But they are where practice actually happens.

We do not need to wait for a major crisis to practice Buddhism.

The battlefield is often hidden inside ordinary life.

Habits Are Not a Life Sentence

There is another important lesson here.

If our habits have been formed through repetition, does that mean we are trapped by them?

No.

If habits could never change, there would be no such thing as cultivation.

Old habits may be strong, but they can gradually be transformed through right understanding, mindfulness, and repeated practice of wholesome actions.

Perhaps yesterday we immediately reacted when someone upset us.

Today, we pause for three seconds.

Perhaps yesterday every moment of boredom led us to our phones.

Today, we put the phone down and sit quietly for five minutes.

Perhaps yesterday an unpleasant thought appeared and carried us away.

Today, we notice it and gently return to the Buddha’s name, a prayer, our breath, or the present moment.

These may seem like very small victories.

But they matter.

Every time we do not follow an old habit, we walk that old road a little less. Every time we return to mindfulness, we make a new road a little stronger.

What Are You Practicing Today?

The story of the horses teaches us something that is easy to forget.

The horses did not become accustomed to walking in circles overnight.

They simply repeated the same movement until it became natural.

Our lives can work the same way.

The way we speak, the things we watch, the thoughts we repeatedly entertain, the emotions we feed, and the actions we practice every day are quietly shaping who we are becoming.

This does not mean we must live perfectly.

It means we should become more conscious of what we practice.

Perhaps tonight, before going to sleep, we can ask ourselves:

What did I practice today?

Did I practice impatience or patience?

Comparison or gratitude?

Fear or compassion?

Distraction or awareness?

Anger or forgiveness?

We may not be able to change our entire life in one day.

But we can change one response.

And then another.

The old road became familiar because it was walked again and again.

A new road can become familiar in exactly the same way.

Perhaps this is one of the quietest and most practical forms of Buddhist wisdom:

Every ordinary moment is a moment of cultivation.

What we repeatedly do today may become the direction our mind naturally takes tomorrow.

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2026/09/18/what-are-you-training-your-mind-to-become/

Can a Cow Painted on a Wall Give Milk?

Indian monk milking a painted cow

Bodhisattva Candrakīrti: Milking a Cow in a Painting

Recently, I came across a video about Bodhisattva Candrakīrti, one of the great Buddhist masters of ancient India.

The video told a remarkable story: according to Buddhist tradition, Candrakīrti was able to obtain milk from a cow that existed only in a painting.

When I first heard this, I was amazed.

How could a cow painted on a wall or in a picture possibly give milk?

Curious, I looked into the story and discovered that it is more than a fascinating Buddhist legend. Behind it stands a great master in the history of Buddhism and, more importantly, a profound teaching about emptiness.

Candrakīrti lived in India around the sixth or seventh century. He was one of the most important masters of the Madhyamaka, or Middle Way, school of Buddhist philosophy, and an important commentator on the teachings of Nagarjuna.

His best-known work, Madhyamakāvatāra (Introduction to the Middle Way), became an important text for the study of Madhyamaka philosophy.

Candrakīrti deeply explored a central Buddhist teaching:

All things arise in dependence upon causes and conditions. Nothing exists with an independent, permanent, unchanging essence.

This is one of the meanings of emptiness.

According to a story preserved in Buddhist tradition, Candrakīrti once lived and practiced at a monastery. Because some people did not understand his way of practicing, they misunderstood him.

Later, he was given responsibility for providing milk for the monastery. It is said that Candrakīrti released the cows into the forest, allowing them to roam freely.

Yet somehow, milk continued to appear at the monastery.

People were puzzled.

If the cows were far away in the forest, where was the milk coming from?

Some people secretly followed Candrakīrti.

According to the traditional story, they saw him approach a painting of a cow—and somehow draw milk from the painted cow.

It is an extraordinary story.

But perhaps the most important question is not whether the event sounds miraculous.

It is what the story invites us to think about.

We normally think:

A real cow can give milk.

A painted cow cannot.

That seems obvious.

Yet the story of the painted cow quietly asks us:

What exactly do we mean when we say something is “real”?

This question goes to the heart of Candrakīrti’s teachings on emptiness.

Emptiness does not mean that nothing exists.

Rather, it means that things do not exist independently, permanently, or entirely on their own. Everything depends upon causes, conditions, relationships, and the way we designate and understand it.

For example, someone is called a “teacher” because there are students. Someone is called a “parent” because there is a child. These identities arise through relationships and conditions.

When we look more deeply, we begin to see that many things we regard as fixed and permanent are actually dependent upon countless conditions.

What I find most meaningful about this story is that it encourages us not to be too quick to conclude:

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

“Things must always be this way.”

“That is absolutely impossible.”

“I already know the answer.”

Our understanding of the world is often shaped by our past experiences, habits, assumptions, and fixed ideas.

Buddhist practice encourages us to hold our views more lightly—to have less attachment, more observation; less prejudice, more humility.

When we loosen our attachment to the belief that “I must be right,” we may begin to see possibilities and truths that we could not see before.

So when I think about the story of Candrakīrti and the painted cow, I no longer see it simply as a miraculous tale.

To me, it feels more like a doorway.

A doorway inviting us to question our ideas about reality, to recognize our own attachments, and to explore the deeper wisdom of dependent origination and emptiness.

Perhaps the story was never meant simply to leave us amazed.

Perhaps it is inviting us to look more deeply.

Just when we think we have completely understood the world, there may still be much more for us to discover.

And perhaps that is one of the most beautiful lessons we can receive from the wisdom of Bodhisattva Candrakīrti.

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2026/09/09/bodhisattva-candrakirti-milking-a-cow-in-a-painting/

Source: https://www.fjdh.cn/wumin/2009/04/06452346128.html?utm_source=chatgpt.com, https://tricycle.org/magazine/truth-about-truth/?utm_source=chatgpt.com, https://baike.baidu.com/item/%E6%9C%88%E7%A7%B0/9958686

When I Came to Understand the Pain Deep Within My Mother’s Heart

Through participating in group study, respectfully and deeply listening to the Dharma discourses expounded by my Buddha Master, Namo H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, and sharing what I had learned with others, I gradually came to understand and feel the pain deep within my mother’s heart.

For as long as I can remember, my parents were constantly arguing. During holidays and festivals in particular, our home would become filled with tension. After an argument, my mother would always wear a stern expression and remain silent, while my father would sigh repeatedly, not knowing what to do.

After encountering the Tathagata’s True Dharma taught by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, I wanted to resolve a question that had puzzled me for a long time: My mother had everything she needed in terms of food and clothing and was free from serious illness or misfortune, so why did she complain every day? She would either say that my father did not treat her well or feel that my younger brother and his wife did not treat her well. She would become so upset that she sometimes could not sleep all night.

My mother cared greatly about maintaining appearances, even when doing so caused her hardship. She especially doted on my younger brother, whom she treasured dearly. To ensure that he could hold his head high in front of his wife’s family, my mother used almost all of her savings to buy them a home and a garage.

Whenever there was an important occasion or even a smaller matter involving my sister-in-law’s family, my mother always handled everything generously and properly. She would rather live frugally herself than allow my brother to lose face.

Yet despite all she had done, my brother seldom contacted her. Although they lived in the same city, he rarely checked in on her, much less came to see her. I could feel how deeply my mother missed her son. She would often ask me, “I wonder what your brother has been so busy with lately?”

To tell the truth, seeing my mother like this made my heart ache, and I also felt deeply concerned about my inability to help her. How I wished she could learn the true Dharma of the Tathagata with me! After all, it was through learning the true Dharma of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III and developing right understanding and right views that I myself had been able to free myself from the suffering caused by my divorce.

Having personally experienced the benefits of learning Buddhism and cultivating myself, I tried to persuade my mother not to dwell on the things that troubled her. I explained to her that these circumstances were the result of causes, conditions, and karmic forces planted in the past. But she did not agree with what I told her.

To avoid upsetting my mother, I tried to take care of nearly all the household chores myself so that she would have to do as little as possible for my single-parent household. Yet strangely, the more responsibilities I took upon myself, the more upset she seemed to become. No matter what I did, I could not seem to make her happy.

Back then, I lived very cautiously around her, afraid that something I said or did might cause her to become upset and silently resentful. I also tried communicating with her, but she would often remain silent and keep everything bottled up inside.

Through respectfully studying Expounding the Absolute Truth Through the Heart Sutra, I brought forth right mindfulness and finally came to understand how I should correctly practice the Four Immeasurables of loving-kindness, compassion, empathetic joy, and equanimity. I first needed to begin with equanimity and selfless giving—to be willing to devote my time to considering the needs of my family. Caring for them was not merely about making sure they had enough food, warm clothing, and money to spend. I also needed to learn to recognize and understand the suffering within their hearts.

I began to sincerely spend time with my mother, and gradually I discovered that the ice within her heart was beginning to melt. Instead of telling her, “Don’t be angry anymore” or “Don’t hold on to resentment,” I began placing the responsibility upon myself: I needed to understand the pain within my mother’s heart, listen to what her heart was trying to tell me, help heal her emotional wounds, and help her establish right understanding and right views.

When my mother complained, I became willing to set aside my time and sit quietly beside her, listening attentively. I no longer used the principle of “cause and effect” to argue with her until she had nothing left to say.

When she felt physically tired, I would take the time to massage the acupressure points on her feet and ask her whether the pressure was too light or too strong. When she felt bored, I would willingly spend time with her and chat about everyday family matters instead of lecturing her about principles and doctrines.

The more I tried to understand the pain in my mother’s heart, the more she began saying things like, “Don’t waste your time on me. I don’t need you to keep me company. Go take care of the children. Once you’ve taken care of everything for them, go do whatever you need to do.”

What surprised and delighted me even more was that my mother eventually began reminding me herself, “It’s almost time for your Buddhist group study. Don’t forget to join the meeting. I’ll help you look after the children.”

I had finally gained my mother’s support. And it happened simply because I had learned to recognize the pain within her heart and was willing to devote my time to sincerely being there for her.

This is exactly what the H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III teaches in the Dharma discourses: we must put our cultivation into actual practice and cultivate ourselves with respect to the three karmas of body, speech, and mind. We must be sincere in our words and actions and in the way we interact with and treat others. Only by putting genuine effort into our conduct in everyday life can we truly touch the hearts of others.

Contributed by: Ji Cheng / Kui Xing

Link: https://myhappylifestyle.net/2026/09/06/dorjechangbuddhaiii-when-i-came-to-understand-the-pain-deep-within-my-mothers-heart/