Compassion Is Stronger Than Violence

“In a gentle way, you can shake the world.”
— Mahatma Gandhi

A Reflection Inspired by Gandhi and Buddhist Wisdom

Throughout history, great spiritual teachers have reminded humanity that true strength does not come from violence, but from compassion. One of the most powerful voices for this truth was Mahatma Gandhi, whose philosophy of nonviolence transformed not only India’s independence movement but also the moral thinking of the modern world.

Gandhi believed deeply that responding to hatred with hatred only multiplies suffering. One of his most famous reminders is:

“An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.”

These words echo a truth that has been taught for thousands of years in Buddhist philosophy. The teachings of Gautama Buddha emphasize that violence and anger inevitably create more suffering through the universal law of cause and effect, often described as karma.

When people act with hatred, harmful consequences naturally follow. But when people act with compassion, patience, and kindness, they plant seeds of peace that can transform the future.

Gandhi understood this deeply. He once said:

“Non-violence is the greatest force at the disposal of mankind.”

At first glance, nonviolence may seem passive or weak. Yet both Gandhi and Buddhist teachings reveal the opposite: choosing compassion when faced with anger requires tremendous inner strength. It means resisting the instinct to retaliate and instead responding with wisdom and humanity.

Another powerful statement from Gandhi reminds us of this inner strength:

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”

In Buddhist practice, forgiveness and compassion are essential qualities for spiritual growth. When we release anger and cultivate compassion, we stop feeding the cycle of negative karma. Instead, we create positive causes that lead to harmony and healing.

The world today often appears filled with conflict, division, and hostility. Yet the teachings of Gandhi and the Buddha remind us that lasting peace cannot be built through force. Peace grows from the transformation of the human heart.

Every act of kindness, every moment of patience, and every compassionate choice becomes a small but powerful step toward a more peaceful world.

Gandhi expressed this hopeful vision beautifully:

“Where there is love there is life.”

His words remind us that true change does not always come from power or domination. Often, it begins quietly—with compassion, moral courage, and the determination to do what is right.

When we choose compassion over anger, forgiveness over revenge, and wisdom over violence, we participate in a timeless spiritual truth: good causes create good results. In this way, every compassionate action becomes a seed of positive karma that can gradually transform both our own lives and the world around us.

And perhaps this is the deepest lesson shared by both Gandhi and the Buddha:
compassion may appear gentle, but in the end, it is stronger than violence.

In recent days, my heart has been unsettled by the wars, conflicts, and endless scandals that seem to surround our world. In such turbulent times, the gentle wisdom of Gandhi becomes like a quiet lamp in the darkness, calming my mind and reminding me to return to inner peace.

I make a sincere vow to guard the peace within my own heart and not allow anger or despair to take root. Instead, I choose to pray for those who are suffering and to let the love and compassion within me flow outward. My voice may be small in this vast world, but I believe that every sincere prayer carries its own power, and the divine will surely hear it.

May the blessings of all the divine beings in the universe embrace this world. May compassion arise in human hearts, hatred dissolve, and may peace and harmony gently return to our shared home.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/03/11/compassion-is-stronger-than-violence/

From Tragedy to Hope: A Nobel Peace Laureate’s Journey

Nadia Murad: One Woman’s Courage Can Change the World

In a world often shaken by violence and injustice, the story of Nadia Murad reminds us that even in the darkest moments, the human spirit can rise with extraordinary courage.

Murad was born in a small Yazidi village in northern Iraq. Like many young women, she once dreamed of living a quiet and simple life. She hoped to open a beauty salon in her hometown and build a peaceful future with her family.

But in 2014, her life was shattered when the extremist group Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) attacked her village. Many members of her family were killed, and she, along with thousands of Yazidi women and girls, was captured and subjected to unspeakable violence.

After months of captivity, Murad managed to escape. Her survival alone was extraordinary, but what she chose to do next required even greater courage.

Rather than remain silent, she decided to tell the world what had happened. Speaking before global leaders at the United Nations, she courageously shared her story and spoke on behalf of thousands of victims who could not speak for themselves.

As she once said:

“I want to be the last girl in the world with a story like mine.”

These simple but powerful words express her deepest mission—to ensure that no other woman or girl must endure the suffering she experienced.

Murad continued her advocacy for survivors of human trafficking and wartime sexual violence, calling on the world to pursue justice and accountability. Her bravery and determination were recognized globally when she was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2018.

Yet Murad’s work has never been about personal recognition. Her goal has always been to restore dignity and hope to those whose lives have been torn apart by violence.

In another moving statement, she said:

“There is no greater honor than being able to speak on behalf of those who have been silenced.”

Her life demonstrates how even the deepest suffering can be transformed into compassion and purpose. Instead of allowing pain to define her, she chose to turn her experience into a force for justice and healing.

Murad also reminds the world that silence allows injustice to continue:

“If the world had listened earlier, perhaps this tragedy could have been avoided.”

Her words challenge us all—not only to listen, but to act.

Today, Nadia Murad’s voice has become a symbol of resilience, courage, and hope. From a small village in Iraq to the global stage, she has shown that one person’s courage can awaken the conscience of humanity. Her story is not only a testimony of survival—it is a call for compassion.

From a deeper spiritual perspective, her journey also reminds us of the universal law of cause and effect—what many traditions call karma. Violence, hatred, and cruelty create suffering that ripples across generations, while compassion, courage, and moral responsibility create healing and hope. When individuals like Nadia Murad choose truth over silence and compassion over hatred, they help restore moral balance in the world. Her courage encourages each of us to cultivate kindness, protect the vulnerable, and act with integrity in our own lives. In this way, even small acts of compassion can become powerful seeds of positive karma, helping to guide humanity toward a more peaceful and just future.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/03/08/from-tragedy-to-hope-a-nobel-peace-laureates-journey/

A Hopeful Skeptic

By Jamil Zaki

According to an ancient myth, hope arrived on earth as part of a curse. Prometheus stole fire from the gods, and Zeus avenged the theft with a “gift.” He commanded Hephaestus to mold the first woman, Pandora, and presented her to Prometheus’s brother. Pandora, in turn, was given a clay jar—which Zeus told her never to open. Curiosity got the better of her, she lifted the lid, and out flew all the world’s ills: sickness and famine for our bodies, spite and envy for our minds, war for our cities. Realizing her mistake, Pandora slammed the jar shut, leaving only hope trapped inside.

But what was it doing there in the first place, alongside our miseries? Some people believe hope was the jar’s only good, and trapping it further doomed us. Others think it fits in perfectly with the other curses. The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche called hope “the most evil of evils because it prolongs man’s torment.” You might agree. Hope has been typecast as delusional and even toxic—causing people to ignore their problems and the world’s.

Scientists think of hope differently. The psychologist Richard Lazarus wrote, “To hope is to believe that something positive, which does not presently apply to one’s life, could still materialize.” In other words, hope is a response to problems, not an evasion of them. If optimism tells us things will get better, hope tells us they could. Optimism is idealistic; hope is practical. It gives people a glimpse of a better world and pushes them to fight for it.

Any of us can practice hope. [My friend] Emile did. He saw the same world most of us do, but instead of retreating into cynicism, he chose to work for peace, build community, and live his principles. To me and many who knew him, Emile’s positivity seemed supernatural. Temperament, experience, will, or some alchemy of all three graced him with a mind and a heart many of us could learn from. Through dozens of tearful, grateful conversations, I gained a deeper understanding of who Emile was and how he got that way. Emile pursued peace the way doctors pursue healing. If illnesses are aberrations in the body’s function, Emile saw conflict and cruelty as diseases of social health. He and his colleagues diagnosed the triggers that inspire hatred, and then designed psychological treatments to reduce conflict and build compassion.

One powerful tool he used to fight cynicism was skepticism: a reluctance to believe claims without evidence. Cynicism and skepticism are often confused for each other, but they couldn’t be more different. Cynicism is a lack of faith in people; skepticism is a lack of faith in our assumptions. Cynics imagine humanity is awful; skeptics gather information about who they can trust. They hold on to beliefs lightly and learn quickly. Emile was a hopeful skeptic, combining his love of humanity with a precise, curious mind.

This mindset presents us with an alternative to cynicism. As a culture, we are so focused on greed, hatred, and dishonesty that humanity has become criminally underrated. In study after study, most people fail to realize how generous, trustworthy, and open-minded others really are. The average person underestimates the average person.

If you’re anything like the average person, this hides some good news: People are probably better than you think. By leaning into skepticism—paying close attention rather than jumping to conclusions—you might discover pleasant surprises everywhere. As research makes clear, hope is not a naive way of approaching the world. It is an accurate response to the best data available. This is a sort of hope even cynics can embrace, and a chance to escape the mental traps that have ensnared so many of us.

Cynicism often boils down to a lack of good evidence. Being less cynical, then, is simply a matter of noticing more precisely. I hope we can witness the good in others and work toward the world most of us want. The cynical voice inside each of us claims that we already know everything about people. But humanity is far more beautiful and complex than a cynic imagines, the future far more mysterious than they know. Cynicism is a dirty pair of glasses more of us put on each year. But we can take them off. We might be astonished by what we find.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/02/28/a-hopeful-skeptic/

Source: https://www.awakin.org/v2/read/search.php

Walking for Peace: A Call for Moral Leadership Today

In a world shadowed by war, polarization, and a visible crisis of character among national leaders, many people feel a quiet but persistent sense of moral drifting. We watch the headlines, we hear the rhetoric, and we wonder: Where is the steady compass that points us toward what is right?

At this crossroads, political strategies alone are not enough. What we urgently need is moral leadership.

History reminds us what that looks like. Martin Luther King Jr. transformed American society not by deepening divisions, but by calling a fractured nation back to its highest values. His authority did not come from force, wealth, or position. It came from moral clarity. He appealed to conscience. He awakened compassion. He united people under the banner of shared human dignity.

Today, facing new global conflicts and cultural tensions, we must ask again: Where will the next wave of moral authority arise?

Buddhist monks walking in silence, carrying a powerful message of peace and mindfulness. (Handout photo)

Recently, about twenty monks completed a 108-day walking journey for peace. Their pilgrimage was not a political campaign. It was not a media spectacle. It was a living embodiment of mindfulness and compassion in action. Step by step, through towns and cities, they carried a quiet message: peace is not merely an agreement signed on paper—it is a way of walking through the world.

In a society saturated with noise, outrage, and endless commentary, their disciplined silence spoke volumes. Their presence offered a visual reminder that true leadership begins with inner cultivation. When we lead with anger, we multiply conflict. When we lead with compassion, we create space for healing.

This is where Buddhist wisdom offers a profound contribution. Rooted in great compassion, loving-kindness, and deep self-reflection, the Buddhist path teaches that personal transformation and public responsibility are inseparable. A leader who has not mastered their own mind cannot bring harmony to others.

Across North America, millions now identify with Buddhist teachings, making it one of the most influential spiritual communities in the region. This growing presence brings an essential perspective to our troubled era—one that emphasizes empathy for all who suffer and reverence for every form of life.

Within this tradition, many look to Dorje Chang Buddha III as an example of moral leadership. Having lived in the United States for more than two decades, he has been recognized internationally for humanitarian and charitable work. His honors include the World Peace Prize, the Presidential Gold Medal, the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Legacy Award, and even a resolution passed in the United States Senate in recognition of his contributions.

Yet perhaps more powerful than any award is his response to recognition. In an age driven by ego and self-promotion, he has expressed a vow of radical humility:

“I will bear all of the karmic offenses committed by living beings, and I will give everyone all of the good karma and merit that I plant.”

Whether one interprets this statement spiritually or symbolically, its moral essence is clear: a true leader does not seek to accumulate praise or advantage. A true leader seeks to shoulder responsibility and give benefit.

This is the kind of leadership our world desperately needs.

Moral leadership is not confined to one religion, culture, or tradition. It can be expressed through Judeo-Christian ethics, Buddhist compassion, or any path that places the common good above personal ambition. What matters is the heart behind the action.

If we are to navigate the challenges of our era, the answer will not come solely from policy, power, or popularity. It will come from conscience.

And perhaps the real invitation is not only to seek moral leaders—but to become them, each in our own sphere of influence.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/02/19/walking-for-peace-a-call-for-moral-leadership-today/

The Way of the Peaceful Warrior

On meeting conflict without losing ourselves

There are moments in life when, despite our best intentions and most sincere efforts, things still feel profoundly unfair. Right and wrong seem reversed. The ground beneath us shifts, and our inner balance begins to tilt toward chaos. In those moments, our first instinct is often to react—to defend, to argue, to strike back.

Before you do, pause.

Take a breath.
Return to your body.
Listen to what is happening beneath the noise.

When we step into conflict fueled by “righteous anger,” wounded pride, or a desire for revenge, we rarely restore balance. More often, we simply exchange one form of turmoil for another. Peace quietly slips away.

Holding onto resentment or remaining lodged in the role of the victim keeps us circling the same pain, replaying the same arguments, long after the moment has passed. Whether we choose to walk away with a clear conscience or feel called to stand up for what feels just, one truth remains: every action—and every silence—creates ripples. They shape who we are becoming and touch the lives of those around us.

At first glance, the phrase Peaceful Warrior seems contradictory. Yet a life rooted in peace and integrity demands precisely this paradox.

To be peaceful does not mean to be passive.
To be a warrior does not mean to be aggressive.

True strength lies in seeing beyond illusion and surface drama. It lies in choosing awareness over reflex, clarity over emotional momentum. A Peaceful Warrior does not drift from one reaction to the next; they choose their response with care.

Such a warrior knows how to step back and observe themselves in the heat of the moment. They are capable of decisive action, but their actions are guided by wisdom and oriented toward the greater good. Only genuine courage allows us to respond from the heart, rather than from outdated conditioning and habitual fear.

The next time you find yourself facing opposition, remember this: you can remain present. You can maintain your inner edge without surrendering to fear or hostility. You can stand firmly without hardening your heart.

You can be a Peaceful Warrior.

When life confronts us with injustice, it becomes a quiet test of our spiritual maturity. These reflections may help illuminate the path:

1. Discern Reaction from Response
A reaction is automatic—rooted in survival, memory, and past wounds. A response is conscious, grounded in the present moment. When you feel that surge of heat in your chest, pause and ask: Is this my deeper wisdom speaking, or is it my ego defending its image?

2. Release Attachment to Outcomes
The Bhagavad Gita teaches action without attachment to results. Spiritually, this means doing what is right not for victory or validation, but because it aligns with truth. When the need to “win” dissolves, a quieter, more enduring power emerges—one that cannot be taken from you.

3. Receive the Mirror
Those who unsettle us most often reveal where we are still tender or unhealed. This does not excuse harmful behavior, but it offers insight. Let the discomfort become a question: What within me is asking for strength, clarity, or compassion?

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2026/01/16/the-way-of-the-peaceful-warrior/

The Fragility of Trust

“There are two things in this world one should never look at directly: the sun, and the human heart.” —Higashino Keigo

I recently came across this story online, and it deeply moved me. It reminded me that trust and kindness are fragile treasures—once broken, they are hard to mend. I would like to share this wisdom with everyone who reads my blog, especially in times when misunderstandings and suspicion can so easily damage the relationships we cherish most.

Once, there was a newly married couple deeply in love, inseparable and affectionate.
But the wife began to doubt her husband’s loyalty. Her suspicion grew stronger each day until she asked her best friend to “test” her husband’s faithfulness.

To her shock, the two fell in love with each other. What started as a test ended in betrayal.
In the end, the marriage was destroyed—not by infidelity itself, but by mistrust and the reckless act of testing love.

🧬 The Scientist Who Refused to Test

Finsen, the world-renowned Danish medical scientist and Nobel laureate, once chose a young man named Harry as his successor.

Some colleagues worried that Harry might not endure the long, tedious years of research. Finsen’s assistant suggested testing him by having a wealthy friend offer him a high-paying job to see whether Harry would stay or leave.

But Finsen firmly rejected the idea, saying:

“Never stand on a moral high ground to look down on others, and never test human nature.
Harry was born in poverty and naturally desires financial security. If we place him between an easy, well-paid job and the hardship of research but expect him to choose sacrifice, we are demanding him to be a saint. That would be unfair.”

Years later, Harry became one of Denmark’s most respected medical scientists. When he learned that Finsen had refused to test him, he wept and said:

“If my mentor had tested my integrity with a lucrative offer, I would likely have failed.
At that time, my mother was ill and my younger siblings depended on me for their schooling.
If Finsen had set that test for me, there would be no me as I am today.”

🌿 The Truth About Human Nature

Indeed, ordinary people are not saints—everyone has weaknesses. If we constantly test others—our spouse’s loyalty, our friends’ sincerity, or our coworkers’ honesty—we will often end up with disappointment and broken trust.

In the first story, had the wife trusted her husband instead of testing him, the marriage might have survived.

Finsen understood that human nature is fragile. True wisdom lies not in setting traps to measure others’ virtue, but in tolerating uncertainty with compassion.

Testing human nature is like striking a porcelain bowl—it will only reveal its fragility by breaking it.
Trust, on the other hand, is like holding that bowl gently in your hands—preserving its wholeness, beauty, and purpose.

In life, love, and friendship, may we learn to trust with kindness and lead with understanding.
After all, it is not the test that reveals the truth of a heart, but the grace with which we choose not to test it.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/11/06/the-fragility-of-trust/

My Father Before Me — The Unspoken Bond Between Fathers and Sons

There are few relationships as powerful—and as quietly transformative—as the one between a father and a son. Yet in modern life, it’s often overlooked. We talk about mothers and children, but the emotional depth between fathers and sons remains one of the least explored terrains of the human heart.

In My Father Before Me: How Fathers and Sons Influence Each Other Throughout Their Lives, psychoanalyst Michael J. Diamond takes us into that emotional landscape with remarkable sensitivity. Through vivid stories, psychological insight, and tender reflection, he reveals how fathers and sons shape, challenge, and heal each other across a lifetime.

Most people think of fatherhood as a one-directional journey: the father influences the son. But Diamond turns that idea around. He shows that the father–son relationship is mutual, not hierarchical.

A father helps mold his son—but the son also transforms the father. Each becomes a mirror for the other’s hopes, fears, and hidden strengths.

Diamond writes about how fatherhood can awaken parts of a man he never knew existed. When a son is born, the father doesn’t just gain a child—he also gains a deeper understanding of himself. The baby’s presence demands patience, tenderness, and emotional openness. In nurturing another, the father learns to nurture himself.

Moments That Change Everything

Diamond fills the book with moving, relatable stories that show this mutual transformation.

One story tells of a man who, having grown up with a distant father, vows to be emotionally present for his own son. Yet when his son enters adolescence and begins to push back, the man feels rejected and hurt—just as he once felt with his own father. Through reflection, he realizes that this is his chance to break the cycle: to stay connected even when it’s uncomfortable. In doing so, both he and his son begin to heal wounds that stretch back generations.

In another example, a father describes watching his young son struggle to build a toy tower. His first instinct is to step in and fix it, but he resists. Instead, he watches quietly, offering small words of encouragement. When the tower finally stands, he sees not just his son’s triumph—but his own growth in learning to let go.

These moments, Diamond suggests, are not small. They are the foundation of how love, trust, and resilience are built between generations.

The Phases of the Father–Son Journey

Diamond explores how this relationship evolves through every stage of life:

  • Early Childhood: The father is a protector and guide, introducing the child to the outside world. But he also begins to sense his son’s individuality—someone both familiar and mysterious.
  • Adolescence: As the son seeks independence, conflict can arise. Here the father’s challenge is to stay connected without controlling—to allow the son to become his own person.
  • Adulthood: When the son grows up, both men must renegotiate their roles. Often, the adult son begins to understand his father with new empathy, and the father learns to accept his son as an equal.
  • Later Years: In time, roles may reverse—the son becomes the caregiver, the listener, the one offering strength. This reversal, Diamond suggests, completes the circle of life.

Through each phase, fathers and sons are constantly exchanging something precious: understanding, forgiveness, and love.

Redefining Masculinity

A core theme in My Father Before Me is emotional honesty. Diamond challenges old stereotypes of men as stoic and distant. True masculinity, he argues, is not about dominance or silence—it’s about being open, authentic, and emotionally present.

When a father shows vulnerability, it doesn’t make him weak—it makes him real. And when a son witnesses that authenticity, he learns that being a man means embracing both strength and tenderness.

In one memorable story, a son recalls seeing his father cry for the first time—after the death of the grandfather. “That day,” he says, “I stopped fearing emotion. I realized that love and grief are part of the same heart.”

A Relationship That Never Stops Evolving

Even when fathers and sons grow older, the dialogue between them continues. Diamond describes adult sons helping aging fathers find meaning and dignity in later life. Some reconcile after years of distance. Others simply learn to say what was once left unsaid: “I love you,” “I understand you,” or even “I forgive you.”

These late-life moments, he writes, can be profoundly healing. They remind us that it is never too late to reach across the years—to understand, to listen, and to love.

A Mirror for All of Us

Whether you’re a father, a son, or simply someone reflecting on your family history, My Father Before Me offers both insight and comfort. It reminds us that every father carries the echoes of his own father within him—and that every son, in turn, shapes what fatherhood will mean for the next generation.

Ultimately, Diamond’s message is one of hope: that through empathy, self-awareness, and courage, fathers and sons can support each other’s growth, forgive each other’s shortcomings, and honor the love that lies beneath it all.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/10/29/my-father-before-me-the-unspoken-bond-between-fathers-and-sons/

To see the Love in all beings is to Awaken the Compassion in ourselves

The Tears of a Mother Fox

This is a true story, personally recounted by a monk.

He said that before he became a monk, he was a hunter, specializing in capturing foxes. One day, he caught a large fox as soon as he left home. After skinning it for its valuable fur, he left the animal—still barely alive—hidden in the grass.

By evening, when the hunter returned to retrieve the fox, it was gone. Looking more carefully, he noticed faint traces of blood on the ground, leading toward a small cave nearby.

Peering inside, he was stunned by what he saw: the fox, in excruciating pain and skinned alive, had struggled back to its den. Why?

When the hunter dragged out the now lifeless body, he discovered two tiny, blind cubs tightly suckling their dead mother’s withered breast.

The sight struck him to his very core. Never before had he realized that animals, too, share the same bonds of maternal love as humans. Even in her dying moments, the mother fox had thought only of feeding her children, afraid they would go hungry. At that realization, an overwhelming wave of grief, shame, and remorse consumed him. He was devastated, unable to forgive himself.

From that moment, he laid down his weapons, abandoned hunting, and chose the path of monastic life.

Many years later, whenever this monk recalled that experience, his eyes would still well up with tears.

The Selfless Leap: A Lesson from the Bharal

There are moments in life when a single experience reshapes the way we see the world forever. The extraordinary sacrifice of animals that opened a hunter’s heart and made him vow never again to take a life.

It happened during a hunt many years ago. Our party had driven a herd of more than sixty bharal—also known as blue sheep—to the edge of a cliff on Mount Bulang. The plan was cruel but simple: trap them on the precipice, and force them to fall to their deaths so we wouldn’t waste bullets.

The herd panicked, but then something astonishing happened. At the sound of a cry from a large male, the bharal divided themselves into two groups—young and old. Out of the elders stepped a weathered male, his horns broken, his face lined with age. He bleated once, and a half-grown bharal emerged from the younger group to join him.

Together they approached the cliff’s edge, then charged forward. The young one leapt first, soaring into the abyss, but it quickly began to fall. At that very moment, the old male followed, placing himself directly beneath the younger in midair. The youth’s hooves struck the elder’s back, using it as a springboard for a second leap. Miraculously, it landed safely on the opposite cliff.

The old one, having given all he had, plummeted to his death.

And then, pair after pair followed. The sky above the gorge was filled with arcs of courage—each elder laying down its life so a younger one might live. By the end, countless old bharal lay broken on the rocks, but the youth had crossed to safety.

I was stunned beyond words. At the edge of extinction, this herd had discovered a way to save itself—by sacrificing half to preserve half. But what shook me even more was not the strategy itself, but the spirit behind it. These elders did not resist, did not hesitate. They walked calmly toward death, offering their bodies so their children might have a future.

In that moment, my heart broke open. I realized that animals, too, embody wisdom, love, and a willingness to sacrifice that rivals, and perhaps even surpasses, our own. I could no longer see them as mere prey. That day, I made a vow: I would never again take life.

✨ The story of the bharal is more than just a tale of survival. It is a mirror for us as human beings. Would we, when faced with the survival of our families, communities, or world, have the courage to lay ourselves down for the next generation? Would we live not only for ourselves, but for those who come after us?

The bharal taught me that true strength is not in holding on, but in letting go—for love. And from that lesson, my heart turned toward compassion.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2025/09/12/to-see-the-love-in-all-beings-is-to-awaken-the-compassion-in-ourselves/

Announcement No. 20180104: Put the Three Demon-Detecting Mirrors in Use

2018-09-28  HQ Announcementshqa2018

During recent years, we at the World Buddhism Association Headquarters have been continuously receiving inquiries regarding upright masters and evil masters, asking for replies in this regard. However, WBAH has given replies to such questions many times publicly through announcements. Furthermore, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III also clearly explained many times the distinctions between what is upright and what is evil and between what is true and what is false. Yet, many of you still act blindly and without a direction in the matter of recognizing and distinguishing whether a master is upright or evil and are unable to decide on whether to continue following your current master or to find and choose another excellent master. Simply speaking, if you do not make recognition according to the announcements and are satisfied with devolving, even all Buddhas in the ten directions are unable to save you!

Now, WBAH provides you with three demon-detecting mirrors, which can enable you to easily see the original forms of such evil persons, regardless of whether they are masters or disciples.

The First Demon-Detecting Mirror: An absolute criterion is to see whether a master makes a big effort to facilitate the disciples to study and broadly propagate the announcements, such as the “Important Replies from Holy Virtuous Ones and Eminent Monastics” from WBAH (the 35 questions with the answers), or not. Any master who does not take measure to enable the disciples to study the announcement well and, rather, only makes propaganda about his/her own articles, writings, books, or other types of undertaking that not only do not refer to the specifics of the announcements but also violate the stipulations in the announcements is definitely an evil master!!!

The Second Demon-Detecting Mirror: Regardless of what status or title the person you follow as your master has, as long as this master’s level obtained from the holy test is not a level within the ranks of holy virtuous persons and yet this master poses as a holy person or instructs the disciples to falsely brag or praise him/her as a holy person, this master is not a holy person. Since such a master imposes rules on the disciples to prevent them from doubting the master and to force them to correspond their three karmas to the master, this is absolutely an ordinary person and is a charlatan!!!

The Third Demon-Detecting Mirror: This is about how to recognize and distinguish holy persons. Holy persons of ancient times have long been known through historical records. Regarding holy persons of the current time, only those who attained the Gold Button levels from taking the written test and the holy exam are holy ones!!! On the other hand, those who did not attain a Gold Button level after taking the examination are not holy ones!!! Anyone who scored a high level of blue buttons can only be an eminent monastic or a great virtuous one.

All those who oppose or persecute holy persons will be included in a name list of malicious persons and will not be conferred an inner-tantric initiation in this entire lifetime!!! If you have already done things that harm holy persons under the instruction of an evil master, then the only way you have is to repent immediately and publicly expose the malicious and demonic evil person who instructed you to create the sin. Then your record will be deleted from the list of malicious persons and you can immediately return to your original status of a cultivator.

These three demon-detecting mirrors can correctly and accurately show the true faces of all evil, malicious, and demonic persons and swindlers!

World Buddhism Association Headquarters (Seal)

September 28, 2018

CLICK HERE for the source posting of this article

The Mirror of the Heart: A Lesson from a Single Father

A single father had just lost his job. All day, he wandered the streets, clinging to the hope that he might find work. But as the sun set, he returned home empty-handed.

Defeated and exhausted, he stepped into a small tavern, spent his very last coin, and finally stumbled back to his modest home.

That evening, he discovered that his son’s grades had slipped. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he shot the boy a harsh glare before collapsing into bed without another thought.

The next morning, out of habit, he opened his diary and wrote:

March 7, Tuesday.
This is the worst day ever. Lost my job, out of money, no work to be found, and my son is a disappointment. A day of utter discouragement.

After his son left for school, he happened to notice the boy’s diary lying open on the table. Curious, he began to read:

March 6, Monday.
Today, on my way to school, I helped a blind man cross the street. I was so happy. My grades weren’t good this time. I told Dad, and he didn’t scold me. He looked at me with such deep affection. I felt so encouraged. I’m determined to study hard so I won’t let him down.

Affection? the father thought, bewildered. I was glaring at him in frustration. How could he have seen that as love?

He turned another page:

March 5, Sunday.
The old grandpa next door is playing the violin better and better. He’s so old but still practices so diligently. I really want to learn from him.

His heart sank as he flipped to his own entry from that same day:

March 5, Sunday.
That annoying old man next door is playing that wretched violin again. On my only day off, he won’t even let me sleep in peace. So hateful—I wish I could smash that stupid instrument.

In that moment, the father felt the weight of shame press him down onto the bed. He was in his fifties, yet his spirit had been broken by hardship—his mindset darker and more defeated than that of his young child.

He realized, with painful clarity, that he had been looking at life through a lens clouded by bitterness. And that lens had distorted everything.

Deeply remorseful, he resolved to learn from his son—to face every trial with acceptance and gratitude instead of resentment. He knew he could no longer wear the mask of anger while searching for work. No matter how difficult life became, he would choose a sunnier disposition.

And when your mindset changes, everything changes.

The very next day, he found a suitable job. He began to meet life’s challenges with a heart full of gratitude.

Life is like a mirror: when you smile at it, it smiles back. When you cry, it weeps with you.

The human heart is also a mirror, reflecting the world within us. It reveals whether we carry kindness or bitterness, whether we live in light or in darkness.

With a single thought, we can create heaven or hell. Everything depends on whether we imprison or liberate our own hearts.

In the end, we are the creators of our own destiny.

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2025/06/27/the-mirror-of-the-heart-a-lesson-from-a-single-father/