What’s the first image that comes to mind when you think of Yoga?
It’s not uncommon for this image to consist of individuals contorting their bodies into impossible positions that are more appropriate for the Cirque du Soleil. There is nothing wrong with some of these breathtaking images, and I love looking at them because I’m in awe of the strength, grace, practice, and determination it takes to hold these postures. My issue with these images flooding social media is that these postures are not possible for most individuals (including me) and the models are usually young, white, beautiful, slim women. This makes it hard to connect to Yoga’s rich Indian history or how it is a practice that is for EVERYONE regardless of age, body type or ability.
In the last few decades, Yoga has become a billion-dollar business. When I started attending yoga studios in Toronto in the early 1990s, there were only 2 studios, and now there is a studio every 3 blocks. There are “yoga teacher rock stars” and businesses that make high-end yoga gear. I’m glad that Yoga has become so popular because this beautiful healing practice impacts more people. However, I believe this commercialism and competitiveness have diluted the teachings and appropriates this ancient practice in some situations.
There is evidence that Yoga existed in India as far back as 500 BC with roots in Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and other religions. Sanskrit is the sacred language of Hinduism, classical Hindu philosophy, and other historical religious texts. The word ‘Yoga‘ is derived from the Sanskrit root ‘Yuj’, meaning ‘to join’ or ‘to yoke’ or ‘to unite-union of mind, body and spirit.
As a yoga teacher and student, I want my students to be familiar with Yoga’s roots and understand that what happens on the mat is more than just stretching and holding postures. This union of mind, body and spirit, happens while practicing the asanas-Sanskrit word for postures. A regular practice will increase flexibility, strength and mobility, and while you are holding the postures, you are practicing pranayama-breath control, meditation, and mindfulness. This holistic practice is how transformation happens and the “union” builds a healthier, more agile body, calms the nervous system, teaches presence, and provides us with tools that we can use off the mat.
Yoga has a rich philosophical history that includes sacred and treasured texts: The Vedas, The Upanishads, The Bhagavad Gita and Pantanjali’s Sutras.
Pantanjali was an Indian sage and thought to be the author of the Yoga Sutras, which is a classical yoga text on yoga theory and practice. According to his teachings, there are 8 components to Yoga:
1. Yamas-attitudes towards environments.
2. Niyamas-attitude towards ourselves
3. Asana-yoga postures
4. Pranayama-breath control and breathing exercises
5. Pratyahar-withdrawal of senses
6. Dharana-concentration
7. Dhyana-meditation
8. Samadi-complete integration
One of the most compelling benefits of Yoga is stress reduction. It’s inspiring to see how it has helped individuals recover from trauma, PTSD, depression, and anxiety.
Enjoy the stretching and postures, and know that you are also calming your mind and relaxing your body. Instead of thinking of Yoga as work out, think of it as a work in.
This morning, I stumbled upon a truly inspiring video—one that I feel compelled to share. It’s about something simple yet deeply powerful: the words we choose to tell ourselves at the start of each day.
The video introduces five morning affirmations—phrases rooted in mindfulness, gratitude, and self-compassion. These words are not just reminders; they are seeds we plant in our hearts. By repeating them daily, we can replace anxiety with calm, transform doubt into confidence, and begin our day already centered in peace.
Here are the affirmations:
I am here, I am alive. This moment is enough.
Nothing outside me can disturb my peace unless I let it.
I will treat myself with kindness, not judgment.
Everything I need is already within me.
Let me be the cause of peace today.
These may seem like simple sentences, yet they carry thousands of years of wisdom. Buddhist teachings remind us that the mind shapes our reality. When we begin each day with thoughts of peace, compassion, and self-respect, we set the tone for everything that follows.
What I love most is the last affirmation: “Let me be the cause of peace today.” Imagine the ripple effect if each of us carried this intention into our daily lives—peace would not just be something we seek, but something we create and share.
The words we tell ourselves each morning truly have the power to shape a lifetime of peace and wisdom.
✨ I wish everyone who watches this video peace, clarity, and growth on their journey. May these affirmations bring light to your mornings and strength to your days.
🌸 Why not give it a try? For the next seven mornings, say these affirmations to yourself before you start your day. Notice how they shift your mood, your focus, and even the way you interact with others. If you feel inspired, share your experience—it might just encourage someone else to begin their own journey of mindful mornings.
Peace Pilgrim once said, “If you knew how powerful your mind is, you would never think a negative thought.” That quote stayed with me, but I didn’t fully understand its truth until I experienced it for myself—right in my own backyard.
At one point, we lived in a house with a large backyard that inspired me to plant organic vegetables. I imagined harvesting fresh, healthy produce and enjoying the process of nurturing life from the soil. Eager and hopeful, I bought a few small tomato plants from Home Depot and began tending to them daily. Watching them grow brought me joy and anticipation—I could almost taste the sweet, juicy tomatoes I dreamed of.
But as the plants began to bloom and bear fruit, trouble arrived. Large, green caterpillars appeared overnight, chewing through leaves and fruit, threatening to destroy the entire garden. My husband was furious and would crush them on sight. Wanting to find a gentler solution, I turned to friends for advice. One of them recommended a non-toxic spray from an organic farm store. It worked like a glue, blocking the insect’s skin so they couldn’t breathe and would suffocate to death.
When I heard that, I felt a sharp, suffocating sensation through my own skin. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill them—no matter how many tomatoes I might lose. These were living beings. Their lives mattered too. I decided then and there: I would not harm them.
And then, something remarkable happened.
The very next morning, my husband came to me in astonishment. “All the caterpillars are gone,” he said. “And there aren’t even any dead ones.” I went out to the garden. He was right. The insects had vanished without a trace.
Was it just a coincidence? I don’t believe so. I believe they sensed my compassion. I believe the power of a sincere, non-harming mind created a shift in energy that led to a quiet, unseen miracle.
Later, after I began studying Buddhism, I came to understand this experience on a deeper level. Through the Dharma transmitted by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, I learned the true meaning of the precept of “Not Killing.”
This teaching awakened a deeper sense of responsibility in me. I now strive to regard the suffering of all beings as my own, and I earnestly wish for every living being—my parents of infinite past lives—to live in harmony and peace.
I sincerely pray that all beings may enjoy happiness, good health, and abundant fortune. I constantly beseech all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas to bless them, to help them escape suffering, to encounter and practice the true Buddha-dharma, and ultimately to attain liberation from the cycle of birth and death.
This is not just a story about gardening. It is a story about the incredible power of our minds—and even more so, our hearts. When we choose compassion over destruction, mindfulness over impulse, miracles can happen.
Let kindness guide you. Let the power of your mind awaken something beautiful—not just in your life, but in the lives of all beings around you.
Modern scientists suggest there may be multidimensional spacetime. The world we perceive in our daily lives consists of three dimensions of space—length, width, and height—plus one dimension of time, forming what we call four-dimensional spacetime.
For most people, it is nearly impossible to imagine what multidimensional space could be like. Even scientists struggle to describe how such realms might appear.
Yet once, while I was reading a Buddhist sutra, I felt as though I glimpsed something of this mysterious idea.
In the Vimalakirti Sutra, it is recorded that Manjushri Bodhisattva led 8,000 bodhisattvas, five hundred arhats, and countless heavenly beings to visit the ailing lay master Vimalakirti.
Vimalakirti lived in a small chamber. He invited everyone to enter. Miraculously, they all went inside, but the room did not grow any larger. No one felt crowded or obstructed, and everyone saw Vimalakirti sitting directly before them.
Manjushri and Vimalakirti engaged in profound dialogue about the Dharma. Later, Vimalakirti displayed astonishing spiritual powers, bringing seats, exquisite foods, and treasures from distant worlds into that same room.
It was absolutely astonishing—like witnessing the seamless merging of multiple dimensions.
Throughout Buddhist history, many great masters have demonstrated abilities that seem to transcend space and time.
For example, there is the story of Milarepa, Tibet’s most renowned yogi. When he was welcoming his disciple Rechungpa back from India—where Rechungpa had traveled to collect scriptures—an incredible event took place.
Rechungpa carried the scriptures on his back as he crossed the vast grasslands. When he saw Milarepa waiting for him, he was overjoyed. Eagerly, he described how he had met the great master Tilopa. With visible pride, he declared:
“In the past, Tilopa did not transmit this Dharma to Master Marpa, but now he has passed it on to me!”
His words brimmed with arrogance.
As they walked together, Milarepa noticed a broken yak horn on the ground and asked Rechungpa to pick it up. Rechungpa couldn’t see the point and made excuses not to touch it. Silently, Milarepa bent down, picked it up himself, and carried it along.
Suddenly, the sky darkened. Thunder boomed, lightning flashed, and hailstones the size of eggs pounded them mercilessly. Rechungpa was battered and bruised.
When the storm finally ended, he looked around—Milarepa had vanished. Alarmed, he began calling out.
Then, Milarepa’s calm voice rose from the little yak horn at his feet:
“Why are you so flustered? Come in here and take shelter.”
Rechungpa stared in disbelief. The opening of the horn was barely larger than a fist. How could he possibly fit inside?
He bent down to look, and to his amazement, he saw an endless green meadow within—stretching as far as the eye could see. Milarepa sat serenely in meditation.
But no matter what he tried, Rechungpa could not enter.
In that instant, all his pride dissolved. Humility and awe took its place.
Milarepa finally emerged and said with a gentle smile, “Did you see? My little yak horn turned out to be quite useful after all.”
Even in our time, extraordinary manifestations still occur.
H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III has demonstrated countless inconceivable displays of supreme Buddha Dharma.
Ruzun Ruo Hui, the abbess of Hua Zang Si (in San Francisco) shared one remarkable example in Interviews with Buddhist Disciples (Episode 78).
Around 1995, about a dozen people were gathered together in a room, respectfully listening to the recorded Dharma discourse Expounding the Absolute Truth through the Heart Sutra.
Halfway through, the entire house vanished. All the walls and structures simply disappeared, and everyone found themselves sitting under the open sky.
Above them, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva appeared, standing in the air, radiating boundless light while auspicious clouds billowed around.
For nearly an hour, Avalokiteshvara remained visible, bestowing blessings. No sounds of the street—no passing cars or footsteps—could be heard. The only sound was the voice of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III expounding the Dharma.
It was clear that everyone present had entered another dimension altogether.
Moments like these show us that the universe is far more profound than what our senses can grasp.
I believe Buddhism is deeply scientific—not superstition. Just because today’s scientists cannot yet explain these phenomena does not mean they are unscientific.
On the contrary, Buddhist wisdom offers an entirely different lens through which to explore reality. It can inspire modern science to uncover new methods and fresh insights to understand the universe’s deepest mysteries.
If we open our hearts and minds, perhaps Buddhist teachings will one day help humanity discover shortcuts to truths that today seem unimaginable.
My revered Master, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, is the incarnation of the ancient, supreme Buddha. Out of boundless compassion, His Holiness willingly bears worldly hardships and concerns to rescue sentient beings from suffering. His accomplishments across the Thirty Categories of the Five Vidyas have astounded the world and brought immeasurable blessings to countless lives. These works—each awe-inspiring in its own right—will soon be compiled into a book to benefit humanity. Yet even these remarkable achievements represent only a small fraction of His Holiness’s true realization.
Most people are unaware that the Buddha Master also possesses the highest and most profound esoteric Dharma. Because His Holiness operates with the enlightened mind of a Buddha and has attained the ultimate state in Buddhism, He was able to receive the rare and authentic vajra needle lineage—a powerful healing method.
I have personally witnessed numerous people with karmic connections to the Buddha Master be cured of serious illnesses, including cancer. Among them were:
Guangdong Yan and Zhiyong Luo, both diagnosed with nasopharyngeal carcinoma;
Zhuang Yan, who suffered from skin cancer;
Jingxing Wu, with a brain tumor;
And Lehui Xie, who endured decades of debilitating phlegm, inflammation, and migraines.
I know these individuals personally. I saw them healed. People from Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Malaysia who suffered from leukemia, AIDS, and strokes traveled to China to seek healing from the Buddha Master—and they, too, were cured.
This verse, from a poem written by the Buddha Master titled “To the Tune of Nian-Nu-Jiao,” perfectly captures that miraculous period:
“Three thousand suffering patients visited me, Day and night I cured them.”
And now, I wish to share my own experience. Over twenty years ago, I stood at death’s door, suffering from late-stage uterine cancer. It was the Buddha Master who brought me back to life through the sacred power of the Buddha-Dharma.
In August of 1985, I began experiencing continuous menstruation lasting over two weeks. At first, I assumed it was just an irregularity and sought treatment through Chinese medicine, but nothing improved. I turned to Western medicine, yet the bleeding continued endlessly. After more than two months, I was transferred from a local hospital to Sichuan Provincial Hospital, where a biopsy confirmed the devastating diagnosis: late-stage uterine cancer.
Professor Zhang, the attending physician, told my husband Hui Han Da—who is also a fellow disciple of the Buddha Master—“The cancer has already spread. Surgery is no longer an option. Take her home. Let her eat what she wants, go where she wishes, and spend her final days with loved ones.”
Refusing to give up, my husband took me to Huaxi Medical University Hospital. The diagnosis remained unchanged. Still determined, he took me to the China-Japan Friendship Hospital in Beijing, then to Peking Union Medical College Hospital, and finally to Suzhou University Hospital. Each hospital gave the same grim verdict: there was nothing more they could do.
As my condition worsened, I lost the ability to eat and became emaciated, reduced to just 79 pounds. My hematin level was a mere 3 grams—far below the normal 16 grams. In a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, my husband brought me back to Huaxi Medical University Hospital. The doctor took one look at me and shook his head: “She has seven days left at most. Go home and prepare for her funeral.”
Back at home, lying in bed and feeling the nearness of death at only 36 years old, I told my husband through tears, “Before I die, could you please go to the Buddha Master and ask Him to help elevate my soul after I pass?” He replied, “The Buddha Master is currently traveling, spreading the Dharma and saving beings. I will go see His Holiness once He returns.” Silently, I prayed with all my heart to Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva (Guan Yin), hoping the Buddha Master would come back soon.
The very next day, around noon, a miracle happened. The Buddha Master appeared at my bedside.
I tried to get up to prostrate, but I was too weak. His Holiness gently stopped me and told me to lie still. With immense compassion, the Buddha Master began to expound the profound truths of life and the universe, explaining the root cause of suffering—how beings are bound by karma born from delusion, which leads to the inevitable cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death.
In a moment of deep reflection, I suddenly came to a painful realization: In order to make money through business, I had once helped others produce a type of beef by slaughtering more than a thousand yaks. Whether or not I had intentionally killed other living beings in the past, how many lifetimes would it take to repay the karmic debt from taking just those thousand lives?
Their blood had once flowed because of my actions—and now, my own blood flowed endlessly due to illness. It was then that I truly understood: this was karmic retribution. The causes I had planted were dark, and now I was receiving their bitter fruits. The more I contemplated this, the more fearful and remorseful I became. From the depths of my heart, I sincerely repented and prayed to the Buddha Master to elevate me to a higher realm after death.
The Buddha Master compassionately said to me:
“If you truly repent, change your ways, never again kill any living being, and resolve to learn Buddhism and cultivate yourself, I will block your negative karma and delay your retribution. Cancer is nothing formidable! I will heal you—and I will also save those yaks that you killed.”
Then and there, the Buddha Master treated me with the vajra needle—a holy object of profound lineage, part of a supreme Dharma that only a true Buddha can apply. The vajra needle is no ordinary tool; it acts according to the will of the Buddha Master. When instructed to send sensation to a specific part of the body, it obeys instantly. When told to stop, it immediately ceases. It was truly beyond anything I had ever imagined.
At the time, I was wearing both a sweater and a fur coat. His Holiness applied the needle through my clothing to an acupuncture point on my back. After releasing the needle, the Buddha Master formed various mudras (sacred hand gestures). As each mudra changed, the sensations from the needle also changed—sometimes weak, sometimes strong—spreading throughout my entire body. I felt tingling, pressure, and swelling sensations, almost too intense to endure.
Then the Buddha Master explained:“Illness arises when energy channels in the body are blocked. It’s like a machine clogged with old, dirty oil that needs to be cleaned. This treatment is cleansing and unblocking your channels. Now, with just my words, the sensations will stop.”
The moment His Holiness spoke, all sensations vanished instantly.
The second round of treatment brought even sharper sensations, again perfectly controlled by the Buddha Master. When His Holiness gave the command, the sensations stopped at once. After a third round of treatment, I felt completely at ease. The Buddha Master then said:
“Today I opened your energy channels. But for complete healing, I must prepare a medicine using the highest Buddha-Dharma methods.”
Soon after, the Buddha Master instructed my husband, Hui Han Da, and me to drive Him to a mountain village—the very place where those yaks had been slaughtered. There, in front of a large yak, the Buddha Master began preparing the medicine. My husband and I were both present.
As the Buddha Master began the ritual, a white mist suddenly appeared in the clear sky, drifting from west to east. The mist grew denser and denser until we couldn’t even see our hands before our faces. During that time, many auspicious and mysterious phenomena occurred. Once the preparation was complete, the Buddha Master had me drink the fragrant herbal liquid.
As soon as I drank it, I felt a surge of warmth fill my body, followed by a deep, refreshing coolness. I was completely rejuvenated—energetic, peaceful, and miraculously healed. The endless bleeding stopped. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I immediately prostrated before the Buddha Master, tears of joy flowing down my face.
From that day forward, I took no more medicine. My strength and body weight gradually returned to normal. One month later, a doctor from Sichuan Provincial Hospital called to follow up, assuming I had already passed away. I answered the phone myself and said:“I’m alive—and completely healed!”
He didn’t believe me and requested I come in for an examination. At the time, fellow disciple Guangdong Yan, who had also been cured by the Buddha Master of nasopharyngeal carcinoma, was visiting my home. We both agreed to go together.
The next day, we were re-examined. The test results showed not a single cancer cell in either of us. The doctors were stunned. They asked what medicine I had taken, who had treated me, and how I had recovered. I answered:“It was the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas who saved me.”
It has now been twenty-one years since the Buddha Master healed me. Ever since I began sincerely practicing the Buddha-Dharma under His Holiness’s guidance, my health has only improved. Recent physical exams show that all my health indicators are excellent. I now weigh 165 pounds, more than double my weight when I was sick.
Friends and family who saw me during my illness are astonished when they see me now. Many say I look like a completely different person.
The Buddha Master also performed special Buddhist rites to liberate the yaks whose lives were taken. The compassion and grace the Buddha Master has shown me and my entire family are immeasurable.
From this life onward, all I can do to repay His Holiness is to devote myself wholeheartedly to cultivation, do good for others, and strive to attain true realization in order to be worthy of the sacred blessings and infinite kindness of my most revered Buddha Master.
Buddhist disciple, Chi Lie Er (This is a complete translation of the Chinese text that follows originally written and signed by Chi Lie Er.)
I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying at Sāvatthī, in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapinḍika’s monastery. It was the rainy season, and the forest hummed with the soft patter of raindrops falling upon leaves. The scent of wet earth filled the air, and a gentle mist curled around the trees.
A great assembly of monks had gathered, their saffron robes glowing in the dim light of dawn. They sat in deep silence, their hands folded in reverence, awaiting the Blessed One’s words. He gazed upon them, his serene face illuminated by the morning light, and addressed them:
“Monks!”
“Yes, lord,” the monks replied in unison.
The Blessed One spoke:
“When a monk is intent on the heightened mind, there are five themes he should attend to at appropriate times. Which five?
“There is the case where evil, unskillful thoughts—connected with desire, aversion, or delusion—arise in a monk while he is referring to and attending to a particular theme. He should attend to another theme, apart from that one, connected with what is skillful. As he does so, those unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it.
“But if those thoughts persist, he should reflect on their drawbacks: ‘These thoughts lead to suffering. They darken the mind. They are thorns in the path of peace.’ Just as a traveler carrying a heavy sack realizes that dropping the burden brings relief, so too should the monk see how abandoning unwholesome thoughts brings lightness to the heart.
“If even then the thoughts persist, he should withdraw his attention—he should give them no mind. As a man walking through a marketplace ignores the clamor of voices around him and focuses only on his path, so too should the monk disregard the noise of unwholesome thoughts.
“If they still do not subside, he should attend to the relaxing of thought-fabrication, gently calming the movement of the mind. Just as a potter, shaping a vessel, slows the turning of his wheel to smooth its edges, so too does the wise monk soften the momentum of thought, guiding it toward stillness.
“And finally, should all else fail, he should take up the final method—firm and resolute. With teeth clenched and tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, he should subdue the mind with force, constraining and crushing the unwholesome impulses with clear awareness, as a strong man might subdue a wild beast.
The Parable of the Two Farmers
The Blessed One paused, then continued:
“Monks, this is like two farmers who inherited the same land.
“One farmer was negligent and careless. He did not prepare his field properly. He let weeds grow alongside the crops, believing they would not harm the harvest. When pests came, he did not chase them away, thinking they would leave on their own. When the sun was too hot, he cursed the sky but did not shade his plants. And when the rains came, he lamented his ruined field but had done nothing to build proper irrigation.
“In the end, his harvest was meager, his efforts wasted. He blamed the land, the weather, and misfortune, but never did he see that it was his own negligence that had led to his failure.
“The other farmer was diligent and wise. He knew the land required effort. He removed the weeds as soon as they sprouted, before their roots took hold. When pests arrived, he drove them away with patience and care. If the sun was too harsh, he adjusted his crops and provided shade. When the rains came, he had already prepared the channels to guide the water where it was needed.
“In the end, his harvest was abundant, his granaries full. When asked the secret to his success, he simply smiled and said, ‘I cared for my field, and in return, it cared for me.’
“Monks, the untrained mind is like the lazy farmer’s field—overrun by weeds of desire, pests of aversion, and floods of delusion. But the well-trained mind is like the diligent farmer’s field—protected, cultivated, and yielding the fruits of wisdom.
“Just as the wise farmer does not despair when weeds appear but instead removes them skillfully, so too should you train your minds.
“Do not be disheartened when unskillful thoughts arise. Attend to them wisely, knowing that a well-tended mind, like a well-tended field, leads to a bountiful harvest—peace, clarity, and liberation.
The Power of a Well-Trained Mind
The Blessed One looked over the assembly and continued:
“Monks, you may ask, ‘What is the fruit of a well-trained mind?’ I will tell you.
“It is like a still lake in the heart of the forest. The surface is clear and unmoving, reflecting the moon and the stars without distortion. When an animal approaches to drink, it sees its own reflection perfectly. In such a lake, the sky, the trees, and the mountains appear as they are, undisturbed.
“But an untrained mind is like a lake constantly churned by the wind. Its waters are muddy, and no reflection can be seen. Even if the stars shine above, they are lost in the restless movement of the waves.
“When a monk, by these five methods, steadies his mind, unifies it, and concentrates it, he becomes a master of thought sequences. He thinks only what he chooses to think, and does not think what he does not. He has broken the bonds of craving and aversion. He has seen through conceit, and with right view, has reached the end of suffering and stress.
“Monks, train yourselves well. Be like the diligent farmer. Master the field of your own mind. Be like the still lake, where truth is seen clearly. For in doing so, you will not only benefit yourselves but all beings who come into your presence.”
The Awakening of the Monks
As the Blessed One spoke, a great stillness settled over the gathering. Some monks felt their minds clear as if a veil had been lifted. Others, who had struggled with restless thoughts, felt their burdens lighten. Among them was a young monk who had long battled with doubt.
That night, he sat beneath a great tree, reflecting on the Blessed One’s words. He thought of the two farmers and saw himself in the lazy one. But now, he resolved to change. He would uproot his weeds, guard his field, and let no impurity take hold.
With renewed determination, he entered deep meditation. As the night passed, his mind grew still, and as the first light of dawn touched the horizon, insight arose within him. He saw the nature of thought, the impermanence of all things, and in that moment, a great joy filled his heart.
The next morning, when the monks gathered once more before the Blessed One, the young monk stepped forward, bowed deeply, and said, “Lord, the field of my mind is now tended. The weeds are gone. The path is clear.”
The Blessed One smiled, his eyes filled with knowing. “Then, monk, walk that path with diligence. For now, you have truly begun.”
That is what the Blessed One said. Deeply inspired, the monks rejoiced in the words of the Blessed One, and many resolved then and there to train with renewed vigor, knowing that mastery over the mind was the key to liberation.
After more than fifty years of experiencing life’s ups and downs, I have finally come to understand the profound importance of quieting down, reflecting, and learning how to truly love myself. It is only through self-love that we can genuinely love others.
“When I truly began to love myself, I started going to bed earlier and learned to enjoy exercise. I stopped getting lost in worries and anxieties. Instead, I became confident and pursued meaningful people and endeavors with passion. That was the moment my life truly began.”
Understanding another person is never easy. We must walk in their shoes, see the world through their eyes, and consider life from their perspective. Yet, this journey often brings sadness. But in that sadness, we discover clarity—we learn to focus on what truly matters.
Rather than wasting our time on trivial concerns and unfulfilling distractions, we should devote ourselves to nourishing pursuits: sleep, books, exercise, the beauty of nature, and, above all, the love we have for the world. When we consciously take control of our time, the tranquility of daily life emerges naturally, and anxiety fades away.
Kahlil Gibran once said, “If one day you stop searching for love and simply love; stop yearning for success and just do; stop pursuing empty growth and begin to cultivate your character, then your life will truly begin.” This wisdom reminds us that authentic living starts with our inner transformation.
Loving yourself means understanding that pain and emotional turmoil are often just reminders to live authentically. Unless it stems from physical illness, much of our suffering comes from misplaced values rather than objective reality. The things we cling to the most are often the very things that torment us, while those beyond our control are simply not worth our distress. True wisdom lies in knowing when to hold on and when to let go.
To be nurtured by others is a gift; to nurture others is an even greater act of cultivation.
May we have eyes that shine like stars, hearts as vast as the ocean, and lives that leave behind the fragrance of kindness wherever we go.
The Wisdom of Middle Age
Middle age teaches us the value of patience, restraint, and measured action. In our youth, we often equate eloquence with intelligence, only to later realize that true wisdom often lies in silence. As W. Somerset Maugham observed, “In a crowd, the quietest person is often the most powerful.”
In conversations, we should not rush to take center stage. Instead, we should listen more and speak less, exercising the grace of restraint. When others share, let us resist the urge to interrupt. When disagreements arise, let us not hastily refute. Instead of saying, “I think,” we can ask, “What do you think?” Instead of declaring, “You are wrong,” we can offer, “Perhaps there is another way to see this.” By replacing subjective judgment with open-minded awareness, we foster deeper understanding.
The world is not simply black and white. By speaking a beat slower and thinking a step faster, we cultivate clarity and wisdom in our lives.
In psychology, there is a concept called task separation: our emotions are our responsibility, while others’ reactions belong to them. The wisdom of softness lies in maintaining a gentle boundary between the two. It allows us to be vulnerable and to accept imperfection in ourselves and others. Harsh confrontation often leads to conflict, but a simple, “I understand your difficulties,” can resolve tensions effortlessly. As Alfred Adler wisely said, “True strength lies in the courage to expose one’s vulnerabilities.”
Try shifting from “I must win” to “We can solve this together.” Instead of “Why don’t you understand me?” consider, “Perhaps I need to express myself differently.” Softness is not weakness—it is a space that allows relationships to breathe and grow.
Kazuo Inamori once said, “What you hold in your heart is what you will encounter.” True generosity is not about calculated acts of kindness but instinctive goodwill. A small gesture—carrying a neighbor’s trash, offering a sincere compliment, or leaving a light on for a loved one—creates ripples that spread far beyond our immediate reach.
A generous heart does not tally whether kindness is repaid. As the Tao Te Ching states, “The more you give to others, the more you have yourself.” Every act of warmth we extend ultimately enriches our own lives.
As we journey through middle age, wisdom is cultivated through restraint. In youth, we may be like strong liquor—bold and fiery; with time, we become like fine tea—subtle yet deeply enriching. Speaking slowly allows us to reflect, gentleness fosters harmonious relationships, and generosity ensures lasting blessings.
These qualities of slow cultivation cannot be rushed or feigned. But with daily practice and yearly dedication, we will come to embody the depth of the old adage: “Still waters run deep.”
Generosity is an altruistic intention that brings joy to sentient beings and delight to all Buddhas. It involves considering others and giving up one’s own body, life, and possessions, even extending to the giving of the Dharma. In the very act of giving, one not only eliminates the habitual tendency of stinginess but also helps others overcome their difficulties. At the same time, one attains joy and freedom through a pure, selfless mind.
In Buddhist practice, generosity is the first of the six Pāramitās (perfections) that guide practitioners on the path to enlightenment. The Buddha teaches that acts of giving bring five kinds of merits:
Longevity without misfortune.
A dignified and pleasant appearance.
Abundant energy and strength.
Joy and freedom from worries.
Wisdom and eloquence.
However, the intention behind giving is crucial. The thoughts and mindset of the giver determine the outcomes of their actions. The Buddha provided profound insight into this during a conversation with Venerable Sāriputta.
The Conversation Between the Buddha and Sāriputta
One time, Venerable Sāriputta asked Shakyamuni Buddha for clarification about the practice of generosity:
“Lord, is it possible that one person may give a gift of a certain kind, and it yields little fruit, while another gives the same kind of gift and yet it yields great fruit and benefit?”
The Blessed One replied, “Yes, Sāriputta, it is possible that a person may give a gift of a certain kind, and it does not bear great fruit, while another person gives the same kind of gift and it bears great fruit and benefit.”
“But Lord, what is the cause and reason for this difference? Why does one person’s gift bring small results while another’s yields much greater rewards, even when the gifts are of the same kind?”
The Blessed One explained, “Sāriputta, there are cases where a person gives a gift with a mind seeking personal profit, attached to the reward, hoping to enjoy it in the afterlife. Such a person may offer food, drink, clothing, vehicles, garlands, perfumes, ointments, bedding, shelter, or lamps to a contemplative or a brahmin. What do you think, Sāriputta? Could a person give a gift with such intentions?”
“Yes, Lord,” Sāriputta replied.
The Blessed One continued, “When such a person gives with a mind seeking personal gain, they may be reborn in the realm of the Four Great Kings. But after the results of that action are exhausted, they return to this world.
“However, there is another person who gives a gift not for personal profit, nor with a mind attached to the reward, but with the thought, ‘Giving is good.’ This person offers the same kinds of gifts to a contemplative or a brahmin. What do you think, Sāriputta? Could a person give in this way?”
“Yes, Lord,” Sāriputta affirmed.
“Such a person, on the break-up of the body after death, is reborn among the Devas of the Thirty-three. But once the result of that action has been exhausted, they, too, return to this world.
“Or a person may give with the thought, ‘This has been the custom of my family, handed down from my ancestors. I must uphold this tradition.’ When they pass away, they are reborn among the Devas of the Hours. Again, after the results of that action are exhausted, they return to this world.
“Alternatively, a person may give with the thought, ‘I am well-off, while others are not. It is only right that I share with those who have less.’ They are reborn among the Contented Devas, but eventually, they return to this world as well.
“Another person might give with the thought, ‘Just as the great sages of the past, such as Aṭṭhaka, Vāmaka, and others performed great sacrifices, so too will I distribute my gifts in this way.’ Upon death, they are reborn among the Devas who Delight in Creation, yet eventually return to this world.
“Or one may give a gift with the thought, ‘Giving brings serenity and joy to my mind.’ Such a person is reborn among the Devas Wielding Power over the Creations of Others. Still, after their merit is exhausted, they return.
“Finally, there is the person who gives not for future rewards, not out of custom, and not out of wealth or tradition, but with the thought, ‘This act of giving is an adornment and support for the mind.’ What do you think, Sāriputta? Could a person give in this way?”
“Yes, Lord,” Sāriputta answered.
The Blessed One said, “This person, upon the break-up of the body, is reborn among Brahmā’s Retinue. Having exhausted the results of their action, they do not return to this world but attain the state of non-return.
“This, Sāriputta, is the reason why one person’s gift may not bear great fruit, while another’s gift of the same kind may yield great fruit and benefit.”
The True Essence of Generosity
Generosity is not merely about the act of giving but also about the intention and mindset behind it. When one practices the virtue of giving with constant joy and unwavering determination, one cultivates all virtuous merits, attains pure samadhi, and gains clarity of insight. This clarity allows one to fully comprehend the origin of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path to liberation and happiness.
Therefore, one should always strive diligently and practice various virtuous deeds of giving, remembering that the purity of the heart and mind in the act of generosity determines its ultimate value and benefit—both for oneself and for the world.
During a visit to Holy Vajrasana Temple, I encountered the beautiful and meaningful practice of Oryoki. Often translated as “just the right amount,” Oryoki is a ritualized way of serving and eating food that combines efficiency, mindfulness, and gratitude. Its roots trace back to the Buddha’s time, embodying the Middle Way of taking neither too much nor too little—an ethos that resonates deeply with the principles of simplicity and compassion.
What Is Oryoki?
Oryoki originated during the Tang Dynasty in China and later influenced practices such as the Japanese tea ceremony. It is widely practiced in Zen monasteries as a way to unify daily life with spiritual practice. The ritual involves a meticulous series of hand gestures, silence, and mindfulness during the meal.
Monks sit in meditation posture, waiting to offer their empty bowls to servers, who portion food to the requested amount. Every movement is intentional, every crumb is appreciated, and every element is designed to minimize waste. Even the water used to wash the bowls is partially consumed and the remainder returned to the earth, often to nourish the garden.
Simple and Balanced Eating
The meals at Holy Vajrasana Temple reflect the Oryoki tradition, featuring fresh fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and tofu. With minimal spices or stimulants, these meals are designed to nourish the body while keeping the mind clear and alert. Every effort is made to include the five flavors—sweet, salty, sour, bitter, and umami—and the five colors—red, green, white, yellow or orange, and black, blue, or purple.
Chefs follow the principle of eating simply, allowing the natural flavors of ingredients to shine. Eating in silence encourages mindfulness, helping participants savor each bite and truly appreciate the food’s journey from soil to plate.
Lessons in Gratitude and Reducing Waste
One of the most profound lessons from Oryoki is its emphasis on gratitude and sustainability. The practice reminds us to take only what we need and waste nothing. Participants are encouraged to finish their meals completely, leaving no remnants.
This principle can extend to our daily lives, especially during the holiday season when overindulgence and waste are common. By being mindful of portion sizes, recycling food scraps, and making thoughtful purchasing decisions—like avoiding vegetables wrapped in plastic—we can honor the spirit of gratitude and reduce our environmental footprint.
A Holiday Reminder: Gratitude Over Excess
As the holiday season approaches, let us take inspiration from these temple traditions. Instead of overindulging, savor each meal with mindfulness and gratitude. Remember those around the world who face hunger daily, and let this awareness guide us to be more conscious and compassionate in our eating habits.
Wishing you a joyful, mindful, and healthy holiday season! Let us cherish the food on our plates, honor the hands that prepared it, and commit to a less wasteful, more compassionate way of living.
Language is one of the most powerful tools in human communication. It has the capacity to warm hearts, yet it can also deeply wound others. The ancient Chinese saying, “Illness enters through the mouth; misfortune comes out of the mouth,” serves as a profound reminder of the critical importance of our words. Another popular saying states, “A kind word can warm one for three winters, but a harsh word wounds deeply and is hard to forget.” Those who speak thoughtfully build strong relationships, while careless words often lead to unintended enmity or trouble. Indeed, many of life’s great misfortunes arise from verbal mistakes.
The Chinese ancients emphasized the principle of “cautious speech and careful actions,” which is not only a foundational aspect of personal conduct but also key to cultivating one’s character. In modern times, misunderstandings and conflicts often stem from believing rumors and passing on unverified information. This carelessness turns small issues into major problems, causing unnecessary harm. The impact of careless words can extend beyond personal relationships, disrupting families, friendships, and even society, sometimes escalating into widespread societal issues.
Buddhism’s Teachings on Verbal Karma: The Four Types of Harmful Speech
Buddhism profoundly explains the karmic consequences of speech. Among the “three karmas” — body, speech, and mind — verbal karma is especially critical. The Buddha taught that the consequences of verbal karma can be even more destructive than a raging fire because hurtful speech inflicts suffering on others. Buddhism identifies four types of harmful verbal karma:
Harsh Speech: Using cruel or aggressive words that directly harm someone’s spirit.
Slander: Spreading rumors or sowing discord, leading to broken relationships and disputes.
False Speech: Speaking untruthfully or deceiving others.
Frivolous Speech: Words that may seem pleasant but mislead or confuse others, distracting them from right mindfulness.
These forms of verbal karma not only harm relationships but also sow seeds of negative karma, inevitably leading to future suffering.
Chinese Buddhist texts record a story from the Song Dynasty: One day, Zen Master Guang XiaoAn observed two monks engaged in a discussion about the Dharma, during which they were surrounded and protected by heavenly beings. However, as soon as their conversation shifted to worldly topics, the deities departed, and evil spirits appeared, mocking the monks with vulgar language. This story serves as a reminder that even monks, when they deviate from righteous speech, will attract negative consequences.
In today’s world, the effects of verbal karma are even more pervasive. Carelessly spreading rumors, posting unverified information online, or making inflammatory remarks can cause lasting damage. Every harsh word is like a sharp blade, hurting not only others but also oneself.
Here is another powerful example that highlights the benefits of controlling one’s speech. At Mount Jiuhua, a sacred Buddhist site renowned for venerating Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, there once lived a venerable nun. She was widely respected for her virtuous life and profound wisdom, embodying the transformative power of positive speech.
Even at the remarkable age of 136, she remained in good health, continuously reciting the mantra “Amitabha Buddha.” This practice not only reflected her spiritual merit but also her mastery of speech, and self-discipline.
The venerable nun understood the profound impact of verbal karma and strictly adhered to the principle of “cautious speech.” She refrained from gossip and focused her speech on chanting the Buddha’s name. In conversations about spiritual matters, she offered concise and clear guidance, leading people toward the right path. When topics were unrelated to spiritual practice, she chose silence. This self-discipline brought her immense merit, making her a role model for others. She often said, “For women, whether lay or ordained, if one can guard against verbal karma, one is halfway to becoming a Buddha.” Her words highlighted the critical role verbal karma plays in the spiritual path.
The venerable nun’s teachings emphasized the severe consequences of verbal karma. She made it clear that verbal karma is one of the greatest obstacles in spiritual practice and explained its multiple harmful effects:
Verbal Karma Obstructs Spiritual Progress: Every instance of harsh speech, slander, or frivolous talk not only harms others but also pollutes one’s mind, hindering spiritual purification.
Verbal Karma Leads to Lower Rebirths: Harsh speech is like a wildfire, burning away one’s merit and leading to severe karmic consequences.
Verbal Karma Disrupts Harmony: In families, communities, or society, harmful speech creates discord, making it difficult to maintain a peaceful environment for practice.
Verbal Karma Weakens Faith: Harsh and false words can cause others to lose faith in their spiritual path, even destroying their potential for future practice.
Her virtuous life and disciplined speech accumulated immeasurable merit. It is said that many patients with difficult illnesses were cured after receiving her blessings, a testament to the power of pure verbal karma.
Guarding Verbal Karma in Modern Life
In today’s world, controlling speech is more essential than ever. Here are some practical steps to guard against verbal karma:
Speak Cautiously: Think before you speak. Avoid spreading unverified information and refrain from gossiping or discussing others carelessly.
Control Emotions: When emotions are high, it’s easy to say things that cause harm. Cultivate a calm and peaceful mind to avoid saying hurtful things in the heat of the moment.
Cultivate Positive Speech: Use kind and uplifting words to resolve conflicts, build trust, and foster harmony in your relationships.
By understanding Buddhism’s teachings on verbal karma, we can become aware of the power of language and use it to bring peace and happiness to ourselves and others. Guarding speech is not only a sign of respect for others but also an essential aspect of personal spiritual practice.
Through mindful and compassionate speech, we can spread kindness, promote harmony, and enhance both the quality of our lives and the happiness of those around us. Let us strive together to use the wisdom of language to create more peace and happiness in our lives and in the lives of others.
Peace LiLy 