The Blade of Grass that Longed for Home

This is an account of an interview with John Tivan, a spirit who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. Having suffered through the hardships of life and the subsequent entrapment as a spirit on the land, he was eventually liberated by Practitioner Su and now resides in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. This testimony was recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on November 10, 2020.

John Tivan speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am John Tivan. For nearly a hundred years, I truly believed I was still guarding my home, my land, and my family. I never imagined that, in reality, I had become nothing more than a blade of grass. I was a simple man from the northern part of Goombungee. My life's greatest responsibility was to protect my family. I had a wife, two sons, and three daughters. They were the very flesh and blood of my heart. Living in this world, they were my entire support system. I could not live without them, and they could not live without me. Think about it—what is a man without his family? They were my world, and I was their anchor."

A Life of Quiet Devotion

"Australia is a vast, expansive land. Where we lived, every household was far apart. To reach the nearest neighbour, it would take five to ten minutes by car. Because of this, we mostly kept to ourselves, rarely interacting with others. Because we had so little contact with the outside world, we clung to each other even tighter. I held onto my wife, and she held onto me. In the eyes of the world, this is called 'deep love.' We were a devoted, loving couple. No matter how old we grew, we would always walk hand in hand, going to the market together every day to buy the things our family loved to eat.

I never dared to think about who would leave first. I always believed that we would be together for all our lives, never to be separated. I know now that I was just deceiving myself, because I could not bear to face the reality of death. I wanted those I loved to be by my side forever. But life is not so simple, is it? We are all bound by our karma, and I was blind to the truth of impermanence."

The Slow Decay of the Body

"Then, at the age of forty-seven, I fell ill. I had been suffering from diabetes for a long time, but I thought I was managing it well through diet and medication. I was so wrong. My body began to fail, and complications set in. First, my eyes went blind. Then, after a fall, the wounds on my feet simply would not heal. They festered and rotted until the doctors said the only way to save my life was to amputate both legs. Can you imagine the horror of that? To be forty-seven years old and suddenly lose your sight and your legs? It felt as though my world had collapsed in an instant.

I refused to call myself a useless person. I was not one to give up. As long as I had this body, I had to keep going. I had to protect my family. I learned to move by dragging my torso across the floor. My trousers were constantly shredded, and my skin was always raw and bleeding, but I didn't care. I had to keep learning. Fortunately, I knew every inch of our home. I knew where every piece of furniture was, where the pillars stood, and where to turn. Even without my eyes, I could move freely, though I could no longer drive my big car to take my family on outings. That was my greatest regret, a heavy stone upon my heart."

The Drought and the Great Loss

"My children were so moved by my efforts. I told them, 'As long as your father is alive, I will protect you. I will not let you suffer or come to harm.' I told my wife, 'Don't be afraid. Even if I cannot see or walk, I will stay by your side. I will never be a burden.' They were comforted, at least knowing I was still a man of purpose, not just someone lying in bed waiting to be cared for. I took pride in that, even as my strength waned.

However, no matter how hard I tried, I could not escape the arrangements of fate. When I was fifty-three, a terrible drought struck the land. For an entire year, there was hardly a drop of rain. Even though I was blind, I could feel the environment with my whole body. The air was incredibly dry. There was no moisture in the grass; everything was withered and dead. Many insects and animals died of thirst. I would often stumble upon their bodies while crawling. I spent so much effort burying them, one by one, so they wouldn't be left exposed under the scorching sun. I wanted them to find peace in the earth, just as I hoped to find peace for my own family."

The Truth of the Grass

"That same year, a plague broke out. Many people died. I thought that because we lived so far from the city, we would be safe. I was wrong. My eldest son went out once and brought the sickness home. One by one, my family fell ill. Within six months, my eldest son was taken. Then my youngest daughter, then my eldest daughter. I lived in constant terror, unable to protect them with my own hands. When they were sick, I couldn't help them. When they were dying, I could only weep in agony. In the end, the whole family was gone. I was the last one left, and I was dying too. Even as I breathed my last, I was still trying to crawl, still trying to guard my home. I was as resilient as grass, refusing to admit defeat, but eventually, I passed away and became a blade of grass.

After death, I continued to guard my home. I seemed to see my whole family there, as happy as they had always been. I tried so hard to protect them, to keep our home from being destroyed. I don't know how much time passed until Practitioner Su opened the space, and I finally saw the truth. Where was my home? It was gone. My family was gone. There was only a field of dry grass, and I was just one of them. It was a devastating realisation, to see that my entire life's struggle had been an illusion of the mind."

Deliverance and the Gift of Rain

"Living on that parched land, I had to struggle just to maintain my existence. Even without water, I had to hold on, just as I had in life. All the spirits on that land were crying out in misery. The suffering of thirst was unbearable. When fires swept through, we were burned, screaming in agony. It was absolutely terrifying! We were trapped in our own suffering, unable to find a way out.

When Practitioner Su appeared, we didn't know who he was at first. But as we watched him save the spirits of the land, we all wept. Every spirit cried out, 'We are saved! We are saved!' Insects that had been shrivelled and dry from the lack of water were restored to their original forms the moment Practitioner Su's golden light swept over them. Some even shed their insect bodies and returned to their human forms. We grew to know him, and soon, we would be waiting in anticipation before he even arrived.

Practitioner Su prayed for rain for us. We were so joyful! No one had ever prayed for rain for us before. We had only ever suffered in silence, with no way to escape our karma. We joined in the prayer. Practitioner Su told us that if we chanted the Buddha's name loudly, we could help bring the rain. Oh, we gave it everything we had! Even the smallest insect spirit chanted with all its might. Suddenly, a drop, then two, then three! Someone shouted, 'It's raining! It's raining!' The whole field was filled with the cheers of spirits. We hadn't felt rain on our bodies in so long. We danced and swayed, opening our mouths to drink the water. The parched earth drank greedily, and finally, it was restored.

Now, the whole space is filled with peace. We are still chanting, waiting for Practitioner Su to appear again, waiting for him to lead us in chanting for rain. Thank you, Practitioner Su! Thank you! Namo Amituofo."