This is a record of an interview with Venerable Du Yong, who sought at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life approximately 1,620 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on August 17, 2018.
Venerable Du Yong speaks:
". I am Du Yong. From a very young age, I possessed a singular talent: painting. It was much like the cameras of your modern era; I had the ability to capture every moment, using my brush to render each scene with absolute fidelity. To do this, one must possess a profound level of meditative concentration. One must be entirely unmoved by the external environment to focus one's mind and clearly manifest the images before one's eyes onto the canvas.
My parents had only me. When I was six years old, my father fell gravely ill and was bedridden. My mother stayed home to care for him, and I, though only a child, felt the weight of the world upon my shoulders. I had to be strong; I had to shoulder the burden of sustaining our family's livelihood.
The Burden of a Six-Year-Old
At six, I had no idea how to earn a living. Painting was my only skill. With my mother’s reluctant permission, we used the very last of our savings to purchase a few pigments, and I began my trade on the streets. At first, business was non-existent. I would sit on the street for the entire day, observing the people as they came and went. To pass the time and keep my skills sharp, I would sketch them into my drawings. I was incredibly frugal with my pigments, wasting not a single drop. These sketches, drawn without any particular intent, were displayed beside my stall. Eventually, a few ladies approached to admire my work and commissioned me to paint their portraits.
As the days turned into months, the customers grew more numerous, and I became increasingly busy. Even at six, I had an uncanny ability to observe the crowds. Perhaps it was linked to my artistic talent; I could always perceive the subtle details that others missed. For half a year, I witnessed the myriad states of human existence, capturing them all in my work. Whenever there were no customers, I would pick up my own drawings and study the different lives I had depicted. I discovered that, aside from the innocent smiles of young children, the faces of almost everyone else were etched with the marks of suffering. I did not understand why everyone was so sorrowful, yet every day, these scenes were presented before me with brutal honesty. I continued to capture these moments, waiting for someone to unravel the mystery of this pervasive misery, until a monk passed by my stall and everything began to change.
A Monk’s Insight
The monk stopped, looking at my small frame as I worked alone on the street. He gazed at my drawings—not of landscapes or flowers, but of the varied states of human life. Unlike other artists, he did not praise the technique. Instead, he let out a long, heavy sigh: 'Suffering... such suffering.' I looked at him in astonishment. It was the first time anyone had looked at my work and identified the 'suffering' within it. Other passersby would call the paintings beautiful, interesting, or realistic, but no one else saw the pain. This monk saw it at a single glance.
I asked him with great curiosity, 'Master, why do you say there is suffering?' The monk looked at me and asked, 'You are such a small child, forced to work on the street just to survive. Is that not suffering?' Stunned by his question, I whispered, 'I cannot play like other children. I can only capture their happiness in my paintings.' The monk then asked me to look at the older children in my drawings. 'Do their faces still hold the of their early childhood?' I shook my head immediately. He said, 'Indeed. Life is so helpless. Once there are afflictions, there is suffering. Where there are needs, there is suffering. Where there are desires, there is suffering. Where there is an ego, there is suffering. As long as one does not find the exit to liberation, there is endless suffering.'
The Path to Liberation
The monk taught me to look at my own work, which clearly depicted the course of a human life, showing that every stage of existence carries its own unique form of suffering. I asked him, 'How can one be liberated from this suffering?' He told me, 'Only by chanting the Buddha’s name. Namo Amituofo is the teaching master of the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. In his world, there is no suffering, only joy. We can all go to the world of Namo Amituofo. As long as we single-mindedly chant Namo Amituofo, we can all be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. Once we arrive there, we no longer have to endure the suffering of the cycle of rebirth. We do not have to be reborn as humans, animals, or insects. We can live forever in freedom, having whatever we desire.' I was filled with such joy. With his guidance, it felt as if the myriad phenomena I had observed all these days were suddenly laid bare and understood.
From that day on, I continued to work on the street, but with a difference: I began to chant Namo Amituofo. Every stroke of my brush became an act of chanting. I also asked my neighbours to help me write the six characters 'Namo Amituofo' and hung them high beside my stall, hoping that everyone who passed by would see the name clearly. Even those who had never heard of it would at least have the impression left in their minds. Furthermore, I actively introduced the inconceivable power of the Buddha-name to my parents, teaching them to chant single-mindedly and seek rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. Whenever I had time, I would go to the temple to chant and listen to the sutras, deeply feeling the benefits of practising the Buddha’s teachings. Every time I looked at the monks practising in purity at the temple, a desire to become a monk myself grew in my heart.
A Life Dedicated to the
When I was eight, illness took my father’s life. Before he passed, he had lost and could not chant, so my mother and I chanted for him, hoping he would reach the world of Namo Amituofo. After he was gone, my mother told me, 'Yong-er, I know you have a compassionate heart. If it were not for your father being bedridden these years, you would have already become a monk. Now that he is gone, go bravely. You will surely save many people in the future. I can take care of myself, and I know how to chant. Go with peace of mind.' At nine, I bid farewell to my mother, took my few belongings, and went to the temple. I worked diligently and eventually became a monk. I used my artistic ability to illustrate many Buddhist stories, presenting them one by one. I travelled everywhere to spread the Buddha’s teachings, circulating these illustrated stories so that people could learn about the Dharma, understand the laws of and cause and effect, and clearly see the falsity of this worldly life.
Deliverance by Practitioner Su
The of Practitioner Su has broken through the boundaries of the Earth and reached into the universe. In the vast reaches of the universe, there exist many spirits with higher levels of spiritual awareness. Throughout their lives, they practised and entered the cosmic realms, but even having reached these high-level spaces, they still did not see the Buddha. In their realms, the Buddha does not appear. Although they could practise in purity, they were ultimately unable to achieve liberation from birth and death.
Today, being bathed in Buddha light, Practitioner Su has performed Chao Du for the myriad spirits of the universe. These beings have finally seen the Buddha. After thousands of years, they have finally seen the Buddha appear before them. They are moved beyond words and now seek only to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. Namo Amituofo."
