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/

How Did an Elderly Woman Who Had Been Hearing-Impaired for Years Regain Her Hearing?

How Did an Elderly Woman Who Had Been Hearing-Impaired for Years Regain Her Hearing?

This is yet another real-life example involving one of my relatives who experienced blessings through the Buddha Dharma.

Over the years that I have been learning the Buddha Dharma, I have introduced quite a few people to Buddhism. Regrettably, perhaps because my own cultivation has not been good enough, none of them ultimately continued. Yet there was always one wish in my heart: I wanted to bring my mother-in-law to listen to the Dharma.

I knew that she was sincere and genuine in the way she treated others. Although she had little formal education and was hearing-impaired, I felt certain that she might actually learn better than I did. However, because she was elderly and physically frail, and because the journey was rather long and transportation inconvenient, I kept the thought to myself for quite some time and did not dare bring it up with her.

In April 2025, after we had finished a life-release activity, I finally decided to ask her.

“Mom, it’s still early today. Why don’t you come with me to listen to the Dharma discourses of Namo H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III?”

Afraid that she might refuse, I added, “Mom, the matter of birth and death is of the utmost importance, and impermanence comes swiftly. You are already in your seventies. You should quickly begin learning the true Tathagata Dharma and listening to the Dharma discourses of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III so that you can attain liberation from birth and death in this lifetime. You are such a kindhearted person. I’m sure you will learn even better than I do.”

After hearing this, she agreed, and we went to the Buddhist altar room in my home to respectfully listen to a Dharma discourse.

After she returned home, she called me and said that she could not understand it and wondered whether she should stop going. Perhaps because she was family, I spoke to her rather directly. Raising my voice so that she could hear me, I said, “Mom, if you don’t understand it now, you can learn gradually. There are many things I don’t understand either. But think about how much suffering there is in life. If we do not learn Buddhism, we will suffer even more as we continue to reincarnate within the six realms. The opportunity to encounter a Buddha in this world is exceedingly rare. Only by learning the true Tathagata Dharma taught by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III can we have hope of attaining accomplishment and liberation in this lifetime. Learning Buddhism requires a sincere heart and perseverance.”

Seeing that I was unhappy, she reluctantly replied, “All right, then.”

When she agreed to continue coming to listen to the Dharma, I was overjoyed. I thought it might be better to first show her videos about the true Buddha Dharma. They presented many extraordinary and inconceivable manifestations of the Buddha Dharma, which I hoped would strengthen her faith.

Sure enough, the videos sparked her interest. I then began having her listen to Dharma discourses, starting with the first lesson, The Unsurpassable, Supreme Dharma.

From then on, regardless of bitter cold, scorching heat, wind, or rain, she faithfully made the trip to my home every day, relying on others for transportation so that she could listen to the Dharma.  Later, I also brought her to our Dharma center to participate in group study and practice so that she could experience the atmosphere of learning Buddhism together with others.

She increasingly came to appreciate how wonderful and extraordinary learning Buddhism was. She has continued steadfastly ever since and has never again thought about giving up. She often feels filled with Dharma joy.

Although she has little formal education and is not very good at sharing her thoughts, she often expresses her feelings in her own simple and heartfelt way:

“Oh, what is being taught is truly wonderful!”

Her Hearing Recovered After More Than a Year of Learning the True Buddha Dharma

After persevering in respectfully listening to the Dharma discourses of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III for more than a year, she began experiencing significant changes in her physical condition.

At first, some of her hair began turning black again. Then the pain in her legs disappeared, and she became much more agile when walking.

Most astonishing of all was the change in her hearing. Because her hearing had been very poor for many years, she had always needed to wear hearing aids. One day in early July of this year, she told me that a large amount of pus had suddenly drained from her ear. I wondered whether this might be a response associated with receiving blessings.

I said to her, “Mom, you are so sincere and devout. Every day you travel such a long distance to come here and listen to the Dharma. The Buddhas and Bodhisattvas will surely bless you.”

Then, this morning, I received a phone call from her. In an excited voice, she told me:

“My ear is better! I can hear sounds even without my hearing aid now. This is wonderful! This is wonderful!”

I was so happy for her. For someone who had suffered severe hearing loss for so many years, being able to hear again without a hearing aid undoubtedly felt like being given a new life.

I said, “Mom, this is all due to the compassionate blessings of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. The sincerity you have devoted to learning the Dharma has touched the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. The Buddha Dharma is truly magnificent and inconceivable!”

The changes she experienced have also strengthened my own confidence and determination to learn and practice the Buddha Dharma well.

When I reflect upon myself, I realize that I have sometimes allowed myself to become entangled in family matters and have not been nearly as diligent as she has. The Buddha Dharma is so real and true, and the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are so greatly compassionate. What, then, is there that I cannot let go of?

Author: Cili

Learn more about H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

Link: https://hhdorjechangbuddhaiiidharma.com/2026/09/06/how-did-an-elderly-woman-who-had-been-hearing-impaired-for-years-regain-her-hearing/

#DorjeChangBuddhaIII #MasterWanKoYee #BuddhaDharma #BuddhistTeachings #DharmaDiscourses #BuddhistBlessings #LearningBuddhism #HearingRecovery #BuddhistTestimony #TrueBuddhaDharma

From Invisibility Spell to Enlightened Master: The Wild Life of Nagarjuna

A Tibetan depiction of Nagarjuna; the snakes are depicted as protectors around Nagarjuna’s head and the nagas rising out of the water are offering Buddhist sutras

Throughout the two-thousand-year history of Buddhism, if one were to ask which master’s life was the most thrilling and dramatic, the answer would undeniably be Nagarjuna Bodhisattva.

He was not only the founder of the Madhyamaka (Middle Way) school and a foundational pillar of Mahayana Buddhism, but also an enlightened master whose incredible wisdom was matched only by his extraordinary life story. Revered by later generations as the “Ancestor of Eight Schools,” this legendary figure actually began his youth walking a path of extreme rebellion and reckless indulgence.

Nagarjuna was born into a noble Brahmin family in Southern India, displaying gifts from an early age that far exceeded ordinary human limits. As a child, he possessed a photographic memory—listening to the four sacred Vedas of Brahmanism just once before reciting them by heart with a complete grasp of their deepest meanings. By the time he reached his youth, he had transformed into a true polymath, mastering everything from astronomy and geography to divination, worldly arts, and various esoteric sciences.

Young scholar studying maps and arcane instruments in a candlelit library

However, genius without wisdom often becomes fuel for pride and unchecked desire. Believing he had already learned everything the worldly realm had to offer, the young Nagarjuna gathered with three like-minded friends to ponder a fateful question: “Life is short, and we have already mastered all human knowledge. What is left for us to pursue?” Their conclusion was as absurd as it was dangerous—to pursue ultimate pleasure and indulge in every sensory distraction.

Determined to indulge without restrictions, the four young men sought out a sorcerer and learned the art of invisibility. Armed with this miraculous power, they brazenly snuck into the royal palace, engaging in reckless escapades and chaotic antics for months while plunging the court into fear and suspicion. Realizing something unnatural was occurring, the King devised a clever trap by ordering fine sand scattered across the palace hallways and gates to track the invisible intruders’ footprints.

When the four entered the palace once more, soldiers surrounded their footprints and swung their swords wildly through the air. Nagarjuna’s three friends were unable to dodge the blades and were executed on the spot. Showing quick thinking under intense pressure, Nagarjuna saved his own life by pressing himself tightly against the King’s throne—knowing the soldiers would never dare swing their swords near the monarch’s seat.

Watching his closest companions cut down in a flash of blood and terror, Nagarjuna experienced a profound, shocking epiphany:

“Desire is the root of suffering, the source of all calamity. Misconduct and defilement know no greater depth than this!”

In that single, terrifying moment, he saw through the illusion and danger of worldly desires, resolving to abandon his past and walk the path of virtue.

Immediately after escaping the palace, Nagarjuna renounced the worldly life and took monastic vows. He fully mastered the entire Tripitaka—the Buddhist canon—in a mere nine months. Unsatisfied with basic mastery, he journeyed deep into the snow-capped mountains to seek out renowned masters and broaden his spiritual horizons.

According to tradition, sensing that the teachings available in the human realm were incomplete, Nagarjuna was guided by the Great Naga (Dragon) Bodhisattva to the underwater Dragon Palace. Inside its vast scriptural library, he discovered profound, high-level Mahayana sutras, including the Avatamsaka Sutra (Flower Garland Sutra), which he brought back to the human world to spread among spiritual seekers.

Upon his return, Nagarjuna authored countless seminal treatises that transformed Buddhist philosophy forever. He penned foundational texts such as the Mulamadhyamakakarika (Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way), the Twelve Door Treatise, and the Mahaprajnaparamita Upadesa (Commentary on the Great Perfection of Wisdom). Through these works, he formulated the profound doctrine of Dependent Origination and Emptiness (Pratītyasamutpāda and Śūnyatā), establishing the core philosophy of the Madhyamaka school while shattering the worldly attachments and misconceptions of his era.

Nagarjuna’s life is a remarkable journey from extreme pride and confusion to ultimate enlightenment. Through his own transformation, he proved to the world that delusion and awakening exist only a single thought apart. It was precisely that thrilling trial on the edge of life and death that forged his supreme wisdom to break all worldly attachments, ultimately creating one of the most revered spiritual grandmasters in human history.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/09/03/from-invisibility-spell-to-enlightened-master-the-wild-life-of-nagarjuna/

Why being “right” isn’t enough—and how true communication requires compassion, timing, and genuine benefit

Beyond the Truth: The Buddha’s Wisdom on Sacred Speech

In daily life, we frequently hear people defend sharp or hurtful remarks with a familiar defense: “I’m just speaking the truth.”

We often operate under the assumption that as long as our statements are factually accurate, we are justified in ignoring the timing, the setting, and the recipient’s emotional capacity. Yet in the Abhaya Sutta (Majjhima Nikaya 58) of the Pali Canon, the Buddha offers a radically different perspective on communication: the true value of speech extends far beyond mere factual accuracy.

The story begins with a trap. Nigantha Nataputta, leader of the Jains, sought to publicly corner the Buddha. He instructed Prince Abhaya to pose a carefully engineered dilemma:

“Would the Tathagata utter speech that is displeasing or disagreeable to others?”

It seemed like an inescapable box:

  • If the Buddha answered “Yes,” the prince would argue that he was no different from any ordinary person who hurls harsh words and causes distress.
  • If the Buddha answered “No,” the prince would counter by pointing to instances where the Buddha severely rebuked Devadatta—words that were undeniably painful for Devadatta to hear.

Confident in his trap, Nigantha Nataputta boasted that the question would stick in the Buddha’s throat like a barbed nut—impossible to swallow and impossible to spit out.

When Prince Abhaya hosted the Buddha for a meal the next day and posed the question, the Buddha quietly dismantled the binary trap: “There is no single, one-sided answer to this matter.”

The Buddha refused to play by a rigid, two-dimensional rule. Whether a Master speaks is never determined solely by whether the listener will find the words pleasant.

Having neutralized the debate tactic, the Buddha turned toward a young child sitting near the prince and offered a deeply human metaphor.

He asked the prince: “If this young child were to accidentally put a sharp piece of wood or a pebble into his mouth, what would you do?”

The prince replied without hesitation that he would immediately try to extract it. If necessary, he would hook his finger into the child’s mouth to drag it out—even if it meant causing pain or drawing blood—because the object had to come out.

When the Buddha asked why he would do such a thing, the prince’s answer was simple: “Because of compassion for the child.”

With this single image, the debate shifted entirely.

Some truths are uncomfortable to hear, much like removing a foreign object from a child’s mouth brings temporary pain. But the criterion for speaking is never immediate comfort; it is long-term welfare. A loving father reaches into his child’s mouth not to assert dominance, nor to punish, but because leaving the pebble inside causes far greater harm.

Through this parable, the Buddha established three essential checkpoints that every word must pass before it is spoken:

  • Truthfulness: Is it grounded in fact? Words that are false are never spoken.
  • Benefit: Is it genuinely useful? Even if a statement is 100% true, if it brings no constructive benefit to the listener, it remains unsaid.
  • Timeliness: Is this the right moment? Only when a statement is both true and beneficial will a wise speaker choose the appropriate time to speak it.

In the Buddha’s framework, truth is merely the entrance requirement. If a statement is factually correct but unhelpful, ill-timed, or purely divisive, silence is the highest wisdom.

Looking Inward: Winning vs. Healing

The contrast between the two parties in this sutta highlights two very different motivations for speaking:

  • The Debate Strategy: Designed to corner, crush, and silence the other person—driven by the desire to win.
  • The Buddha’s Response: Designed like a parent rescuing a child from danger—driven by the desire to heal.

This distinction invites us to examine our own hearts before we speak “harsh truths” or offer sharp criticism:

Are we speaking because we genuinely want to help the other person suffer less, or are we simply trying to prove ourselves right and dominate the conversation?

True goodwill allows for necessary firmness, but it must always rest upon the foundation of truth, benefit, and proper timing. Practicing the wisdom of Right Speech is not just about holding our tongue—it is about refining our intent, ensuring that every word we release carries gentle yet steadfast compassion.

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/09/02/why-being-right-isnt-enough-and-how-true-communication-requires-compassion-timing-and-genuine-benefit/

The Relaxation of Thoughts

Woman sitting cross-legged meditating with glowing colorful energy swirls in a forest

Translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu

I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying at Savatthi, in Jeta’s Grove, Anathapindika’s monastery. There he addressed the monks, “Monks!”

“Yes, lord,” the monks replied.

The Blessed One said: “When a monk is intent on the heightened mind, there are five themes he should attend to at the 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. When he is attending to this other theme, apart from that one, connected with what is skillful, then those evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion, or delusion — are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. Just as a skilled carpenter or his apprentice would use a small peg to knock out, drive out, and pull out a large one; in the same way, if 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. When he is attending to this other theme, apart from that one, connected with what is skillful, then those evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion, or delusion — are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it.

“If evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion, or delusion — still arise in the monk while he is attending to this other theme, connected with what is skillful, he should scrutinize the drawbacks of those thoughts: ‘Truly, these thoughts of mine are unskillful, these thoughts of mine are blameworthy, these thoughts of mine result in stress.’ As he is scrutinizing the drawbacks of those thoughts, those evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion, or delusion — are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. Just as a young woman — or man — fond of adornment, would be horrified, humiliated, and disgusted if the carcass of a snake or a dog or a human being were hung from her neck; in the same way, if evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion, or delusion — still arise in the monk while he is attending to this other theme, connected with what is skillful, he should scrutinize the drawbacks of those thoughts: ‘Truly, these thoughts of mine are unskillful, these thoughts of mine are blameworthy, these thoughts of mine result in stress.’ As he is scrutinizing the drawbacks of those thoughts, those evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion, or delusion — are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it.

“If evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion or delusion — still arise in the monk while he is scrutinizing the drawbacks of those thoughts, he should pay no mind and pay no attention to those thoughts. As he is paying no mind and paying no attention to them, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. Just as a man with good eyes, not wanting to see forms that had come into range, would close his eyes or look away; in the same way, if evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion or delusion — still arise in the monk while he is scrutinizing the drawbacks of those thoughts, he should pay no mind and pay no attention to those thoughts. As he is paying no mind and paying no attention to them, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it.

“If evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion or delusion — still arise in the monk while he is paying no mind and paying no attention to those thoughts, he should attend to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts. As he is attending to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. Just as the thought would occur to a man walking quickly, ‘Why am I walking quickly? Why don’t I walk slowly?’ So he walks slowly. The thought occurs to him, ‘Why am I walking slowly? Why don’t I stand?’ So he stands. The thought occurs to him, ‘Why am I standing? Why don’t I sit down?’ So he sits down. The thought occurs to him, ‘Why am I sitting? Why don’t I lie down?’ So he lies down. In this way, giving up the grosser posture, he takes up the more refined one. In the same way, if evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion or delusion — still arise in the monk while he is paying no mind and paying no attention to those thoughts, he should attend to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts. As he is attending to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it.

“If evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion or delusion — still arise in the monk while he is attending to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts, then — with his teeth clenched and his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth — he should beat down, constrain, and crush his mind with his awareness. As — with his teeth clenched and his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth — he is beating down, constraining, and crushing his mind with his awareness, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it. Just as a strong man, seizing a weaker man by the head or the throat or the shoulders, would beat him down, constrain, and crush him; in the same way, if evil, unskillful thoughts — connected with desire, aversion or delusion — still arise in the monk while he is attending to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts, then — with his teeth clenched and his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth — he should beat down, constrain, and crush his mind with his awareness. As — with his teeth clenched and his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth — he is beating down, constraining, and crushing his mind with his awareness, those evil, unskillful thoughts are abandoned and subside. With their abandoning, he steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it, and concentrates it.

“Now when a monk… attending to another theme… scrutinizing the drawbacks of those thoughts… paying no mind and paying no attention to those thoughts… attending to the relaxing of thought-fabrication with regard to those thoughts… beating down, constraining and crushing his mind with his awareness… steadies his mind right within, settles it, unifies it and concentrates it: He is then called a monk with mastery over the ways of thought sequences. He thinks whatever thought he wants to, and doesn’t think whatever thought he doesn’t. He has severed craving, thrown off the fetters, and — through the right penetration of conceit — has made an end of suffering and stress.”

That is what the Blessed One said. Gratified, the monks delighted in the Blessed One’s words.

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2026/08/28/the-relaxation-of-thoughts-2/

Floating High on Borrowed Wings: The Parable of the Monk and the Ghost

In a world driven by metrics, social validation, and external applause, it is easy to mistake the platform we stand on for our own height.

A striking story from the Miscellaneous Parables Sutra (雜譬喻經) serves as a timeless reminder of what happens when we rely on borrowed support—and how genuine self-correction and gratitude can transform our lives.

Meditating monk floating above a mountain village with swirling spirit energy

The sutra tells of a monk expelled from his monastic community after committing a serious infraction. Cast out into the cold, he did not spend his solitude reflecting on his actions or feeling genuine remorse. Instead, he was consumed by anxiety, lamenting his lost veneration, the vanished daily offerings, and his ruined reputation.

During his aimless wandering, he encountered a ghost who was similarly miserable, having been banished by Vaisravana, the Heavenly Guardian King. Recognizing a shared plight, the ghost proposed a clever scheme:

“I am invisible to human eyes. I will lift you up and carry you on my back through the sky, creating the illusion that you are an enlightened saint who can fly. When the villagers marvel at your supernatural powers and shower you with rich offerings, we will split the rewards.”

The monk eagerly agreed to the trick.

When the villagers looked up and saw the monk floating effortlessly above their heads, they were stunned. Outraged at what they assumed was a grave mistake, they openly criticized the monastic community for exiling a “holy, enlightened master.” The villagers welcomed the monk back with grand celebrations, lavishing him with honor, luxury, and prestige.

Everyone marveled at how high he could fly, but not a single soul saw the invisible ghost holding him up from underneath.

The grand deception came to a sudden, tragic end. One day, while gliding majestically through the clouds above an admiring crowd, the ghost caught sight of Vaisravana’s celestial guards patrolling the sky. Panic-stricken, the ghost fled instantly to save itself, dropping the monk mid-air.

Deprived of his hidden foundation, the monk plummeted straight to the earth and died on impact. In a single heartbeat, the awe-inspiring elevation vanished, leaving behind only the stark reality of his fall.

This ancient parable holds profound lessons for navigating our modern lives:

1. Change Yourself; Don’t Fool Yourself with Tricks

Calming cortisol storm into peaceful light

When we make mistakes or face setbacks, our default ego response is often self-preservation: making excuses, masking weaknesses, or using superficial fixes to maintain a successful image.

  • The Trap: Relying on pretense or shortcuts creates an inherently fragile foundation. You might fool the world—and even convince yourself—for a short time, but unaddressed flaws will eventually lead to a catastrophic downfall.
  • The Wisdom: True strength demands radical self-honesty and sincere repentance. Growth begins the moment you stop managing impressions, admit your shortcomings, and commit to the quiet work of genuine internal reform.

2. Cultivate Deep Gratitude for Everyday Support

While the monk’s ghost was a force of deception, the story reminds us that no individual ever ascends entirely on their own strength.

  • The Reality: Our everyday accomplishments, safety, and comfort are upheld by a vast, unseen network: the dedication of our families, the collaboration of colleagues, societal infrastructure, and nature itself.
  • The Wisdom: Approach life with profound humility and gratitude. Recognizing that you are constantly sustained by the effort of others keeps the ego in check and prevents you from mistaking collective support for personal superiority.

3. Cultivate True Inner Substance Through Buddhist Practice

In Buddhism, spiritual practice (xūxíng) is not a performance designed to win public admiration, gain influence, or secure material comfort. Its core purpose is twofold: self-liberation (zìlì) and the compassionate liberation of others (lìtā).

The Practical Lesson: External applause, reputation, and titles are merely temporary, borrowed conditions. When life strips away all external privileges, your true capability is measured by your internal substance: your moral integrity, emotional stability, and capacity for wisdom under pressure.

Self-Liberation (Enduring Peace): Authentic practice focuses on purifying the mind from the “Three Poisons”—greed, anger, and ignorance. It is about understanding the nature of impermanence so that you are no longer a slave to praise, wealth, or worldly status. By upholding ethical precepts (Sīla) and cultivating deep mental stability (Samādhi), you gain the true ability to transcend the cycles of anxiety and suffering (Samsāra).

The Bodhisattva Path (Wisdom & Compassion): True practice extends outward through Bodhicitta—the boundless vow to help all sentient beings break free from their own pain. When your actions are driven by genuine wisdom (Prajñā) and selfless compassion, you build an unshakeable spiritual center that remains calm, composed, and helpful to others regardless of external circumstances.

When external validation fades and all borrowed support is withdrawn, what remains is your actual inner substance: your ethics, emotional stability, and capacity for wisdom.

When the applause fades and external support steps back, what internal foundation are you left standing on?

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/08/28/floating-high-on-borrowed-wings-the-parable-of-the-monk-and-the-ghost/

It Is Time to Truly Wake Up

After respectfully listening to the Dharma discourse “Focusing Primarily on Cultivating One’s Own Dharma and Conduct” imparted by Namo H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, I came to a profound realization: It is time to truly wake up!

I am deeply grateful for the blessings of all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas!

Although I had listened to this Dharma discourse before, it seemed to have left almost no impression on me. Just as my Buddha Master said, it went in one ear and out the other. As soon as I finished listening, I forgot what I had heard. The teachings neither entered my mind nor touched my heart. I am truly ashamed of myself.

After listening to this Dharma discourse again, I came to understand more deeply the preciousness of Buddha Dharma, the true meaning of liberation, and how I should make use of my limited lifetime.

First, we must understand that Buddha Dharma is extremely precious and difficult to encounter. Why? Because only Buddha Dharma can enable us to end the cycle of birth and death and transcend the six realms of samsara in which we now exist.

In the past, when Dharma Master Nenghai listened to Geshe Jangba expound the Dharma, he could hear only one sentence each day and had to make a round trip of about 25 miles. It took him half a year to finish listening to that Dharma teaching.

There are also many people who learn Buddhism by studying Buddhist scriptures. Because many scriptures are written in classical Chinese, their meanings can be very difficult to understand. Even when someone can understand the words, the scriptures were compiled by the Five Hundred Arhats based on their recollections of the Dharma expounded by Namo Shakyamuni Buddha. Therefore, deviations in the meaning of the Dharma could inevitably have occurred, and what was recorded may not fully convey the perfect Dharma meaning spoken by the Buddha.

Today, we are able to listen directly to the perfect Dharma teachings of unsurpassed, complete enlightenment expounded by my Buddha Master(H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III). This is truly rare, precious, and extraordinarily auspicious!

When my Buddha Master (H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III)expounds the Dharma, profound principles are explained in simple and accessible language, almost like having an everyday conversation. Deep principles of Buddha Dharma are presented to us clearly and understandably, enabling people of different levels of good roots to gain understanding according to their capacities.

Therefore, we must cherish every opportunity to listen to the Dharma!

Second, we must understand how swiftly impermanence can arrive. How much time do I really have left to waste? Impermanence can take my life at any moment, for death makes no distinction between the young and the old.

Since I have already encountered the true Dharma of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, I must make good use of my time and genuinely cultivate myself according to the Dharma principles taught by my Buddha Master. I must integrate Buddha Dharma into my everyday life.

At every moment, I should recall the Dharma principles taught by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III and use them to examine my every word, action, and thought:

Do I truly have compassion?

Have I practiced patience and forbearance?

Have I let go of greed, anger, and ignorance?

Am I still entangled in worldly grievances and disputes over right and wrong?

Are the things I am doing bringing me step by step closer to accomplishment and liberation?

A human existence endowed with the freedoms and favorable conditions for learning the Dharma is difficult to obtain. Even more difficult is the opportunity to hear directly from H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III the perfect Dharma teachings that enable living beings to end the cycle of birth and death!

All worldly phenomena are illusory and ultimately unreal. What, then, is there to cling to?

Isn’t that true?

The people and possessions I cherish most, everything I have worked so hard to obtain—I carefully protect them, constantly afraid that I might lose them. Joy, worry, and anxiety accompany me all the time.

But has this attachment really brought me happiness?

Is this truly the happiness I have always longed for?

Have I actually obtained it?

At the very moment I take my last breath, will any of these things still belong to me?

Therefore, I must clearly establish the true goal of my life: to end the cycle of birth and death and attain liberation.

On the path toward liberation, I must not keep looking around—admiring the scenery here one moment and envying someone else’s treasures the next. Doing so only delays my journey and wastes my precious life and time.

Cultivation means cultivating oneself.

I must listen to the Dharma teachings frequently, and whenever I understand even one principle, I should put it into practice through my actions, speech, and thoughts—the three karmas.

I must constantly examine myself:

Have I let go of greed, anger, and ignorance?

Am I practicing the Six Paramitas and the myriad Bodhisattva practices?

I should begin with the people closest to me. It is in front of those closest to us that we remove our disguises and reveal our true selves. In those relationships, all our shortcomings are exposed most clearly.

I asked myself sincerely: Am I truly compassionate toward my family?

Suppose I have just finished mopping the floor, and suddenly a large footprint appears on the spotless surface. At that very instant, anger and irritation arise within me. I glare angrily at the person responsible, only to receive a casual response:

“Just wipe it again. What’s the big deal?”

Not only was my effort unappreciated, but I also felt that it had been disrespected. My anger immediately intensified, and I raised my voice:

“Why don’t you clean it yourself?”

Such a trivial incident exposed the selfishness within me.

First, my effort was not truly selfless. I expected praise and respect in return. Second, I lacked tolerance and understanding. When someone failed to respect the results of my labor, instead of responding with compassion and patience, I gave rise to anger and resentment.

At the root of the problem was my failure to truly understand the impermanence of all phenomena. I had failed to realize that I should be selfless, compassionate, and forbearing, and that I should do only those things that benefit others.

Instead, I had neglected what was truly important while clinging to things that offered no help whatsoever toward my accomplishment and liberation—my pride, my dignity, my boundaries, and so on.

It is truly time for me to wake up completely.

I must make full use of this limited lifetime, take my Buddha Master (H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III) as my role model, establish unwavering faith, rely upon correct understanding and correct views, and diligently cultivate my own conduct and practice my own Dharma.

I will strive to end the cycle of birth and death and attain liberation as soon as possible.

Written by: Qingxin
Edited by: Sayi

Learn more about H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

Link: https://dharma-hhdorjechangbuddhaiii.org/dorje-chang-buddha-iii-it-is-time-to-truly-wake-up/

#DorjeChangBuddhaIII #MasterWanKoYee #BuddhaDharma #BuddhistTeachings #Buddhism #BuddhistCultivation #DharmaTeachings #BuddhistPractice #SpiritualAwakening #BuddhistWisdom

Beyond Logic: How Compassion Subdued Ancient India’s Sharpest Mind

Aśvaghoṣa (Japanese Kamakura period, 13th century – http://burkecollection.org/catalogue/10-memy%C5%8D-bosatsu)

In the brilliant expanse of Buddhist history, one name stands out with singular brilliance. He was not only the 12th Patriarch in the Zen lineage originating from ancient India, but also a literary genius who captured the hearts of a continent through the power of poetry and music: Aśvaghoṣa (known in Chinese tradition as Bodhisattva Horse-Nneigh).

This is the legendary story of how a once-arrogant Brahmin prodigy suffered a dramatic defeat in a battle of wits, entered the Buddhist monastic order, and ultimately became a towering master who galvanized the rise of Mahayana Buddhism.

Born into a noble Brahmin family in Eastern India, young Aśvaghoṣa possessed exceptional intelligence. He mastered classic texts, arts, and above all, the razor-sharp logic of public debate. In ancient India, intellectual debates were high-stakes events where the defeated party was expected to convert and become a disciple of the victor. Driven by youthful pride, Aśvaghoṣa swept through Central India, issuing a brazen challenge to the entire Buddhist community:

“If any monk can defeat me in debate, I will sever my own head in apology! But if no one dares face me, every monastery in this region must cease striking the ghanta—the traditional wooden blocks and bells used to assemble the sangha!”

Faced with his fierce logic and intimidating rhetoric, no local monk dared step forward. As a result, the once-vibrant monasteries fell silent. Morning gongs and evening bells ceased, and the public prestige of Buddhism plummeted.

Hearing of this crisis from Northern India, an venerable elder named Venerable Pārśva knew that if Aśvaghoṣa’s arrogance went unchecked, the true teachings of the Mahayana tradition would fail to flourish. Despite his advanced age, Pārśva traveled vast distances on foot to answer the challenge.

On the day of the grand debate, the arena was packed with the king, ministers, and tens of thousands of onlookers. Observing the frail, white-haired elder, the young prodigy felt immediate condescension. “Venerable monk,” Aśvaghoṣa asked arrogantly, “what shall be the stakes of our debate?” Pārśva calmly replied, “The loser shall become the disciple of the winner, shaving his head and following him for life.” Aśvaghoṣa readily agreed.

Aśvaghoṣa invited the elder to speak first. Pārśva uttered a single, deceptively simple statement of blessing:

“May the world enjoy peace, may the king live a long life, may the land be rich and joyful, and may all disasters cease.”

A hush fell over the crowd. Aśvaghoṣa froze.

By the rules of debate, Aśvaghoṣa was required to refute his opponent’s opening premise. Yet, Pārśva had stated a benevolent blessing for the country and its sovereign. If Aśvaghoṣa tried to refute it, he would violate public ethics, offend the reigning king present in the crowd, and bear the stigma of cursing his own land. But if he agreed with the statement, he could not break the argument, which meant instant defeat.

Aśvaghoṣa searched his mind, only to realize that his formidable logical framework was completely powerless against a statement rooted entirely in compassion, wisdom, and broad goodwill. Pale and humbled, he bowed deeply to the elder: “I have lost. Your wisdom is wrapped in profound compassion. I will honor my promise.” Pārśva had subdued Aśvaghoṣa’s pride not through heated argument, but through calm, unassailable composure. Aśvaghoṣa shaved his head on the spot and officially entered the Buddhist order.

Under the guidance of Pārśva and his successor Puṇyayaśas, Aśvaghoṣa displayed astonishing spiritual insight. He fully digested the Buddhist Canon (Tripitaka) and channeled his pre-existing artistic and literary talents into spreading the Dharma.

Monk reading a glowing scroll among four tearful horses in cathedral hall

The origin of his name—Aśvaghoṣa, literally meaning “Horse’s Neigh”—is tied to a celebrated event. When King Kaniṣka of the Kushan Empire conquered Central India, he demanded indemnity. Instead of vast fortunes of gold or silver, the King requested only two treasures: the sacred Alms Bowl of the Buddha, and Master Aśvaghoṣa.

To demonstrate the master’s sublime virtue to skeptical court officials, the King conducted a test. Seven warhorses were locked away and starved of food and water for six straight days. On the seventh day, a crowd gathered. Fresh, sweet grass was placed right in front of the starving horses, while Aśvaghoṣa took the high seat to chant and preach the Dharma.

An astonishing scene unfolded: despite their intense hunger, the seven horses did not even lower their heads to eat. Instead, they stood transfixed, listening intently to the serene, compassionate melody of Aśvaghoṣa’s voice, eventually shedding tears of emotion. Moved by how his sacred chants could touch even the animal realm, the world reverently honored him as Aśvaghoṣa Bodhisattva.

Following King Kaniṣka north, Aśvaghoṣa reached the peak of his creative energy. Understanding that rigid dogma rarely moves the hearts of ordinary people, he pioneered the use of literature and music as tools for spiritual education.

His greatest masterpiece, the Buddhacarita (Acts of the Buddha), is an epic narrative poem detailing the life of the Buddha from birth, renunciation, and enlightenment to his final Parinirvana. Characterized by elegant imagery and deep emotional resonance, it became a pinnacle of classical Sanskrit literature, introducing countless readers to the beauty of Buddhist philosophy. Furthermore, as the trusted spiritual mentor to King Kaniṣka, he played a central role in presiding over the Fourth Buddhist Council, solidifying the theoretical foundation of Mahayana Buddhism.

Aśvaghoṣa’s life is a timeless story of arrogance yielding to genuine wisdom. In his youth, he sought to conquer the world with sharp intellect, yet when confronted with true spiritual depth, he chose to surrender to compassion. By subduing his ego and dedicating his creative gifts to all living beings, he transformed from a defensive debater into a compassionate artist whose voice moved both human hearts and nature alike.

Reference Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A%C5%9Bvagho%E1%B9%A3a

Link:https://peacelilysite.com/2026/08/25/beyond-logic-how-compassion-subdued-ancient-indias-sharpest-mind/

An Awakening While Stopped at a Red Light

Sometimes, what suddenly wakes us up and brings clarity to our minds is not the sound of a temple bell. It can be something as ordinary as watching the countdown on a traffic light at an intersection.

That day, I was riding my scooter and stopped at a red light. I found myself staring at the numbers as they counted down, one second at a time…

Normally, those numbers simply tell us how many seconds we have to wait before moving on. But for some reason, at that moment, something gently struck me deep inside.

I suddenly realized: It wasn’t just the traffic light that was counting down. Our lives are counting down too.

Every time another second disappears from the display, one second of our own lives is gone as well.

We often talk about the Buddhist teaching of “impermanence.” We have heard countless times how swiftly life passes and how quickly circumstances can change. In His Dharma discourses, Namo H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III has also compassionately reminded us time and again of how frightening impermanence can be and how it is constantly unfolding right before our eyes.

Yet this is simply how we human beings are. We may understand these teachings intellectually, but somehow they never seem to truly frighten us deep down.

We continue drifting through our days in a haze. We still lose our temper. We still tightly hold on to attachments, grudges, and conflicts that we cannot seem to let go of. We always think there is still plenty of time. We simply assume that when the sun rises tomorrow, we will still be here.

It often takes an ordinary, seemingly insignificant moment to suddenly wake us up:

From the day we were born, our lives have already been counting down.

Older generations often say that the frightening thing is not that we are slowly growing old, but that we do not even realize we are growing older day by day.

When today passes, one more day of our life is gone. When this second slips away, we will never be able to get it back again.

The Verse of Admonition by Samantabhadra Bodhisattva says:

“This day has already passed, and our lives have likewise diminished. Like fish in a shrinking pool of water, what joy can there be? We should diligently and vigorously cultivate ourselves, as urgently as if extinguishing a fire upon our heads. Be ever mindful of impermanence, and never give way to negligence.”

Every time I read this verse, it strikes me deeply.

Aren’t we just like fish in a pond whose water is slowly drying up? The water decreases day by day, yet we are still fighting fiercely with one another over a few pieces of fish food, completely forgetting that before long, when the water dries up, none of us can escape what follows.

When we look back carefully at all the noise and turmoil of this world—the pursuit of fame and personal gain, who wins and who loses—the things that once seemed unbearable, the things we thought we could never let go of, what do they amount to when we look back several years later?

They were little more than a dream from which we eventually awakened.

What truly matters in life has never been whether everything goes our way at this particular moment. What really matters is whether, during this lifetime, we have sincerely followed the Buddha’s teachings, whether we have earnestly cultivated ourselves, and whether we have worked toward freeing ourselves from the suffering of reincarnation.

If we can show others a little more compassion, then let us do so.

If we can lessen our attachments even a little, then let us loosen our grip.

If there is a good deed we can do today or a kind thought we can give rise to today, we should not put it off until tomorrow.

Because none of us knows what awaits us after the light turns green and we pass through this intersection.

At the next crossroads, will we simply continue along the familiar road we have traveled so many times before—or will we have reached the end of our journey in this life?

While we still have the strength, and while we still possess this precious human body, let us remind ourselves of this at every moment.

Do not wait until the light has gone out to regret having let this precious life pass by in vain.

—Buddhist disciple Gao Qiyuan
August 6, 2026

Learn more about H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

Link: https://hhdorjechangbuddhaiiidharma.com/2026/08/23/an-awakening-while-stopped-at-a-red-light/

#DorjeChangBuddhaIII #MasterWanKoYee #BuddhistTeachings #BuddhaDharma #BuddhistWisdom #Impermanence #Mindfulness #BuddhistPractice #SpiritualAwakening #Buddhism