Awakening Beyond the Self: The Path of True Compassion

This is a record of an interview with Meng Tianxiang, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life approximately seven hundred and thirty years ago. It was recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa Jing, on July 26, 2019.

Meng Tianxiang speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Meng Tianxiang. The immense wealth I enjoyed in my family home was the result of blessings cultivated in past lives. However, my parents were never arrogant because of this; instead, they understood the importance of sharing what we had with others. My mother often told me, 'Possession is a blessing, but the ability to let go is an even greater one.' Under such guidance, my mind gradually expanded. I learned that life was not just about myself, but about constantly considering the needs of others.

A Childhood of Shared Joy

The girl next door, Orchid, was my childhood sweetheart; we were born on the same day, in the same month, and in the same year. Her mother and mine were like sisters, having been neighbours since childhood before marrying into this village. Their friendship remained steadfast through the years. Orchid and I loved nothing more than distributing the sweet soup my mother prepared to our neighbours and the homeless people on the streets. I remember our first time doing this; I was five years old. My mother had cooked a massive pot of sweet soup. My father helped her carry it out from the kitchen, and she told me, 'We shall share this pot of soup with our neighbours.' Although I loved sweet soup, I looked at that giant pot and thought, 'If only our family of seven eats this, it will take us a week to finish. In this sweltering heat, it will surely spoil.' So, I asked my mother, 'Could we share some with the neighbours?' She was overjoyed and replied, 'Of course! We are only seven people; how could we finish this alone? I have been waiting for you to say those words. It shows that my teachings have not been in vain.' My father carried the pot to the street, ladling out bowl after bowl, while Orchid and I delivered them to the people. Seeing everyone on the street happily drinking the soup together was a wonderful sight; for a moment, all the passersby became like one family. This experience taught me the joy of sharing. Later, when I helped my mother with errands, I would use the remaining money to buy simple food for the orphaned children on the streets. They were homeless, surviving on the charity of others or scavenging for scraps. They were around my age, some a bit older. Despite the vast difference in our social standing, I loved playing with them. To me, there was no difference between us; it was merely the arrangement of fate that we were born into different families.

The Story That Changed Everything

On summer afternoons, my grandfather loved sitting under a large tree, listening to the breeze rustling the leaves while he swayed gently in his rocking chair. I would bring a small stool and sit beside him. One day, I excitedly begged him for a story. Grandfather’s stories were loved by adults and children alike, and if one listened carefully, one could gain profound insights into life. Just as he was about to begin, Orchid came running into the courtyard. She often joined me to listen, and we would lie at Grandfather’s feet, listening intently. Many neighbours, seeing our closeness, assumed we would eventually marry, and they often offered their blessings to my parents. Orchid was a gentle girl, and my parents adored her. If she were to become my wife, they would be delighted. Whenever they teased us about marriage, Orchid would shyly lower her head. Seeing her bashful expression, I knew she had feelings for me, but a voice deep within me clearly told me that I would never marry in this lifetime.

The Illusion of Worldly Success

Grandfather told many stories, but one in particular shifted my entire perspective on life. It was about a handsome young nobleman who had everything—wealth, status, and beauty. He lived a life of indulgence, getting whatever he desired. Yet, at the peak of his life, at thirty-five, just as he was about to marry the woman he loved, he suffered an accident that left him paralysed. He could no longer walk and had to be carried by servants. His horses stood waiting in the stables, but he could only watch them from his window, sighing in despair. As for his beautiful fiancée, she vanished the moment she learned of his disability, taking a large sum of money meant for their wedding. The nobleman’s life plummeted from the peak to the depths of despair. Just as he was about to end his life with poison, he saw a vision. In this vision, he was a beggar, starving and scavenging for scraps. He saw a beggar woman with a three-year-old child who were being beaten and rejected everywhere they went. The nobleman in the vision, despite his own hunger, gave his last half-bowl of rice to the mother and child. The mother fed the child, and seeing their satisfaction, the nobleman’s own hunger vanished. This selfless act of generosity, though seemingly small, carried immense merit, allowing him to be reborn into a wealthy family. However, once wealthy, he forgot the hardships of poverty and squandered his blessings. Now, at thirty-five, he was back at rock bottom. Seeing his past, the nobleman dropped the poison and wept. He finally understood that his wealth was not a coincidence and that his life was not a random occurrence. From that day on, he lived with gratitude and eventually retreated to the mountains to practise the Buddha’s teachings, dedicating his life to helping others understand the illusory nature of the world.

The Realisation of True Practice

I was ten when I heard this story, and Orchid was there too. We both wept. When Grandfather asked why, Orchid said she felt sorry for the nobleman’s suffering. I asked what happened to him, and Grandfather explained that it was a true story—the man had spent his life in diligent practice, sharing his insights with others. I took this story to heart, using it to warn myself against pursuing vanity. I eventually told Orchid that I would not marry, as I saw emotions as fleeting and false. She was heartbroken, but I could not waste my life on illusions. I spent ten years living in seclusion in the mountains, attempting to practise on my own. However, when I fell gravely ill, I realised that my 'seclusion' was merely another form of selfishness. I was still attached to my own 'purity' and had not truly let go of the self.

The Encounter with the Nobleman

As I lay dying, the very nobleman from the story appeared before me. He had learned to walk with a limp through his practice. He looked at my sick body and said, 'As long as there is a single thought of greed, one cannot let go.' I had thought that by renouncing marriage and worldly life, I had achieved liberation, but he pointed out that my heart was still clouded by the desire for my own 'purity.' I was anxious and impatient, wanting to achieve enlightenment for myself rather than for the sake of all beings. He taught me, 'A practitioner should be one who gives, not one who hoards. The one who gives has no self. Illness invades the body because of the self. If there is no self, there is no body; if there is no body, how can there be illness?' I finally understood that my practice had been stagnant because I was only concerned with my own salvation, not the suffering of others. I had been chanting the Buddha’s name with my mouth, but not with my heart. I knelt before the Buddha and repented, vowing to dedicate my body and mind to the service of all beings for as long as I had breath.

A Life Dedicated to Deliverance

With the Buddha’s golden light and the nobleman’s care, I recovered. I entered a temple and finally saw the suffering of the people. I realised that the Buddha’s teachings were not meant to be kept for oneself but to be shared to awaken others. When I stopped thinking of myself and focused entirely on the needs of others, my practice grew rapidly. I spent the rest of my life in a race against time, helping as many as I could. When my time finally came, Namo Amituofo appeared to lead me away. I stepped onto a fragrant lotus, seeing my name inscribed upon it, and felt immense gratitude that the Buddha did not abandon me. I vow to return to this world in future lives to save those who have yet to be delivered.

The Compassion of Practitioner Su

Practitioner Su’s work in spreading the Dharma requires immense capacity and compassion. In this age of the Dharma’s decline, beings are lost in countless forms of suffering. The key is to have a heart that makes no distinction between 'self' and 'other.' When the heart is one, all beings are seen as oneself. I have seen how Practitioner Su endures suffering on behalf of all beings, teaching them to look past the illusions of this world. I, who no longer have a physical body, can feel the world through Practitioner Su, and it is a world that has strayed far from purity. Without the Buddha’s guidance, everyone would be lost in worldly delusions. I offer my deepest gratitude to Practitioner Su and to the Buddha for their boundless compassion. Namo Amituofo."