Awakening from the Grip of Karma

This is a record of an interview with Lu Dong, who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Dharma-Nature Land. This account reflects upon his life approximately 1,500 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on August 29, 2018.

Venerable Lu Dong speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Lu Dong. I have come to share my story so that others may learn from the heavy karmic burdens I once carried. It was a deep, dark slumber that led me to a dream—a dream that was not merely a figment of my imagination, but a vivid recollection of a Past and Present Lives experience that had been buried deep within my Alaya consciousness.

A Nightmare of Jealousy

In this dream, I was a woman, surrounded by a group of sisters—my childhood playmates. We were gossiping about a girl from the Lin family who was about to be married to a wealthy, desirable man. As I listened to my friends chatter with excitement, a bitter, sour feeling began to churn within my heart. I realised with a jolt of agony that the man the Lin girl was marrying was my former lover. He had been taken from me, simply because the Lin girl was the daughter of a wealthy, influential family, while I was nothing more than a girl from a poor, humble background.

My friends dragged me along to the Lin residence to see the bride-to-be. As they walked, laughing and full of joy, I trailed behind, my heart twisted into a tight, painful knot. I could not understand why I felt such intense, suffocating resentment. When we finally saw the Lin girl, dressed in her beautiful wedding finery, her face radiant with happiness, my heart felt as though it were being pierced by needles. To hide the burning jealousy that threatened to consume me, I forced a smile and offered my congratulations, but my soul was screaming in agony.

The Tragic End

On the day of the wedding banquet, the house was filled with guests. We had all agreed to meet at the Lin residence to see the bride before the ceremony, but I was nowhere to be found. As the hours passed, the guests began to whisper. The bride, too, had vanished. Panic began to ripple through the crowd as people scrambled to find her.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. Everyone rushed toward the sound. A maid stood there, covering her face, pointing toward the well. We all looked, and there she was—the bride, still in her vibrant red wedding dress, her face stained with fresh, crimson blood, lying lifeless by the well. The entire room fell into a deathly silence, frozen in horror. I, hiding in the shadows of a corner, looked down at my own hands, which were drenched in her blood. The sight was so terrifying that the guests fled in a blind panic.

The Master's Stern Rebuke

I woke from this dream drenched in sweat, gasping for air. My fellow practitioner rushed over, shouting, 'Senior brother has woken up! Senior brother has woken up!' My face was deathly pale, and I was trembling with the residual terror of the vision. My fellow practitioners, seeing my state, immediately summoned our Master to check on me. The moment the Master entered my room, he did not offer comfort; instead, he commanded in a booming voice, 'Kneel!' He ordered me to kneel before the Buddha and repent.

The Master looked at me and asked, 'You have been feeling unwell for days, and today you collapsed. Do you know why you had that dream?' I looked at him in shock, wondering how he could possibly know about the nightmare. I shook my head, lost and confused. The Master explained, 'For these past few days, your karmic creditors have been manifesting around you. I have seen them, but I was waiting for you to realise it yourself and cultivate a heart of repenting.' I confessed, 'Master, I do not understand what is happening.' He replied, 'If your heart had not been stirred, these karmic creditors would not have appeared so frequently. You must look within. Why has your heart been so restless these past few days?'

The Hidden Stain of Envy

I began to reflect on my state of mind. I had been feeling dizzy, my chest heavy with a persistent, inexplicable gloom. The Master then spoke the word that shattered my ignorance: 'Jealousy.' When I heard that word, everything became clear. He told me, 'Your junior brother, Wuxin, has been performing exceptionally well in the temple. He has achieved great things these past few days, and you have allowed jealousy to take root in your heart. You did not show it openly, but I saw it clearly. I was waiting for you to quickly repent, change your ways.'

I immediately knelt before the Buddha, weeping as I repented for my ignorance. The Master continued, 'The establishment of a bodhimanda requires the harmony of many conditions. The building of a monastic community requires us to work together, united in our efforts to save the world and spreading Dharma. Why do you still harbour jealousy? Do you think that by your own strength alone, you could deliver sentient beings?' I shook my head in shame. I felt a profound sense of remorse for having such petty thoughts, and I sincerely apologised to the woman I had harmed in that past life.

Expanding the Mind-Capacity

This event opened my eyes to the filth hidden within my own heart. I saw how narrow my mind-capacity truly was. As a monastic, I should be dedicated entirely to the benefit of sentient beings. Why did I allow such unworthy thoughts to obstruct my own practice and hinder the progress of our salvation team? To truly help others, I knew I had to wash away this stain completely.

'Mind-capacity' was a concept I had never truly studied. I did not realise how small my heart was. Although I had the vow to save the world, without the capacity to hold all beings, I could never achieve anything, let alone help others. I realised that only by grinding away the 'self'—making the ego smaller and smaller—could my mind-capacity grow larger and larger.

Service as the Path to Selflessness

I began to examine my 'vow to save the world.' How strong was it? Did I truly understand the suffering of sentient beings? When my personality and ego flared up, could I still remember my vow? From that day on, I started to change in the smallest ways. I learned to stop calculating gains and losses, and I learned to serve the public. Whatever was within my ability to do, I accepted it fully and completed it with all my might.

I also learned to 'not see the faults of others.' I learned to be inclusive and to constantly reflect on my own actions. Even when others criticised me to my face, I learned to accept it with joy, sincerely thanking them for their guidance and then thoroughly changing my ways. If I saw the goodness in others or witnessed their progress, I felt genuine joy for them. I praised them from the bottom of my heart and learned from them, striving even harder for the sake of all beings. In any situation, I placed myself last. I prioritised the interests of others and the needs of sentient beings. Once I let go of myself, I realised that the ones who could be helped were the immeasurable and boundless sentient beings before me. If I only saw myself, not only would I fail to achieve anything, but the beings would continue to suffer. I must learn to have a heart as vast as the Buddha's to deliver sentient beings.

The Path of Constant Purity

I worked hard, bit by bit, to change. Even when my fellow practitioners mocked me for being 'foolish' or for doing tasks that seemed beneath me, I continued. I knew my own shortcomings. Only by constantly serving the public and thinking of others could I learn how 'forgetting the self' is such a state of freedom. Only when my mind-capacity is large enough will I not be swayed by someone else's words, a look, or an action. Only then can my heart remain in a state of constant purity.

Although what I do now may seem like small, trivial matters, I am sincere in my desire to help sentient beings and to change myself. I treat every task as something I am meant to do, constantly monitoring my mental note and reminding myself of my purpose. As the days pass, I am accumulating the provisions for delivering beings. What seem like minor, insignificant actions have, in an invisible way, opened my mind-capacity.

Walking on the path of practice, I am grateful to everyone around me. They encourage me, motivate me, temper me, and help me achieve. Everyone is a teacher on my path of practice. Without them, I would not be who I am today. In these decades of practice, I have learned to forget myself every single day. Every day I know I should be grateful, and every day I must deliver sentient beings. I do not remember how much I have done, nor do I calculate how many beings I have saved; I only know that I must give my all every day. I am grateful for the care of Namo Amituofo, which allows me, at the end of this life, to return to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss with ease, bringing with me many, many sentient beings to return to the West together.

The Chao Du of Practitioner Su's Dharma Body

I praise Practitioner Su. Even when I was working as hard as I could to expand my mind-capacity, I still did not have the ability to enter various spaces to perform Chao Du. Now, I follow behind Practitioner Su every day. Beyond performing Chao Du for the beings connected to me in my own space, I am also learning from Practitioner Su's compassion and vast mind-capacity. The sentient beings in the universe are so numerous—there are good spirits and evil spirits. Only by viewing all sentient beings as one's own children, just as the Buddha does, can one have the mind-capacity sufficient to deliver sentient beings. Namo Amituofo."