The Blind Man Who Saw the Light

This is a record of an interview with Yu Na, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Pure Land. This account reflects upon his life approximately 1,600 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on February 13, 2019.

Yu Na speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Yu Na. I remember lying there on the grass, my hands tucked behind my head, legs crossed, simply soaking in the warmth of the sun. Every inch of my skin felt the light; every pore seemed to react, some drinking in the heat with joy, others recoiling. I could hear the rhythmic sounds of the house doors opening and closing—my brothers, one by one, heading out to their daily labour.

I remained on the grass, content in my stillness, until my mother emerged from the house. She spotted me lying there in the distance, and her voice, sharp as a whip, cut through the morning air. She was holding a water ladle, tending to the vegetables, but her eyes were fixed on me with nothing but disdain. 'Of all the children in this house, you are the most useless!' she shouted. 'Look at your brothers—they are all out working, sweating for their bread, while you do nothing but idle away your time!' She unleashed a torrent of cruel words upon me. In the past, such venom would have shattered my heart, but over the years, I had grown numb to it. It was a familiar, bitter melody I had learned to endure.

A Childhood in Darkness

I was born blind, a child who had never seen the light of day. In my family, I was the one everyone mocked. My mother bore ten children, and I was the youngest, the final arrival. My brothers were all strong, healthy, and capable, while I was the only one who could not see the world. My mother blamed me for everything. She truly believed I was a child born to seek vengeance, that I had entered this world specifically to torment her. No matter what she said, I never once spoke back. I knew the weight of her burden; raising a blind child in such a world was no easy task, and I carried that understanding in my heart.

Within those walls, I was treated as if I were worth nothing. My brothers looked at me with such contempt, viewing me as a 'drag'—a burden that held them all back. Whenever I appeared before them, they would sigh with such profound irritation, making sure I heard their frustration. I was a ghost in my own home. I do not know why, but a voice would often whisper in the depths of my heart: 'This home is not worth staying in. This dark, suffocating world is not worth living in. If you just left, if you just ended it, all this pain would vanish in an instant.' There were times when that voice was deafening. I tried to end my life more than once, but my father always found me in time. He was the only one who cared. He loved me deeply, and whenever I felt the warmth of his affection, I would be overcome with regret for the foolish things I had done to cause him such sorrow.

The Last Words of a Loving Father

My father was rarely home; his work took him far away, and he would return only after long intervals. Before he left for the final time, he held me close and said, 'There is nothing in this world you cannot overcome. I believe in you, Yu Na. You are a person of great worth!' I never imagined those would be the last words he would ever speak to me. When he did not return, the grief was like a physical weight, crushing my spirit. Yet, his words continued to echo in my mind, a constant, gentle hum: 'For your father's sake, you must live on. You must live well.' I clung to that promise like a lifeline.

The moment my father passed, my brothers cast me out. They lied to my mother, claiming I wanted to live on my own, but in truth, they forced me out, refusing to share a roof with me any longer. They threw my belongings into the street. I spent hours on my hands and knees, feeling the cold, hard ground until I finally touched my bags. I was alone, blind, and had no idea where to go or how to survive in a world that had no place for me.

Cast Out into the Cold

In the dead of night, I huddled against a wall, seeking shelter. The town was silent, save for the biting wind that whistled through my thin clothes, chilling me to the bone. Despite the late hour, my mind was racing, wide awake, filled with the ache of missing my father. At dawn, I was stirred by a small voice: 'Big brother, big brother!' I had fallen asleep without realising it. A little boy was standing there, asking me to play. Before I could respond, his family rushed over, pulling him away. 'Hurry up! Don't play with beggars! They are filthy!' they scolded. Hearing that, I felt a profound sadness. It was a reminder of how deeply the world is divided by such cruel discriminations.

I remembered my father's encouragement. He had seen the potential in me that no one else could. I began to re-evaluate myself. I stopped focusing on my blindness and started to search for my own strengths. I listened to the world around me—the varied footsteps on the street, the cacophony of life, the mingled scents of the market. My stomach was empty, a hollow ache, but I followed the scent of food until I reached a breakfast stall. I stood there, swallowing hard, until the owner noticed me. 'Do you want a bun?' he asked. I told him, 'I want to eat, but I have no money.' He took two buns from the steamer and gave them to me. I was so grateful. As I ate, my senses, sharpened by my blindness, immediately detected that the flour had been fermented for a quarter-hour too short. The owner was stunned. 'How could you possibly know that?' he asked. I didn't know; I just knew. It was natural.

A Talent Discovered in the Streets

Suddenly, I heard a flurry of rapid footsteps. I moved to the side of the road just as a group of officials sprinted past, chasing a prisoner. The owner was amazed again. 'How did you know they were coming?' he asked. 'I heard their footsteps,' I replied. He marvelled at my hearing and my sense of taste. A master chef, who had been watching from the sidelines, approached me. 'Would you be willing to train with me? I can make you a great chef,' he said. I could not believe my ears. 'Do you know I am blind?' I asked. He looked at me with absolute certainty. 'I know you are blind, but I also know you are a man of great talent.' It was the first time anyone had ever affirmed my worth. I accepted his offer immediately.

Under his patient guidance, my natural sensitivity allowed me to master every skill he taught. Soon, the restaurant was filled with the sound of happy customers. 'The food is getting better and better,' they would say. 'Did you hire a new chef?' The staff would smile and say, 'Yes, we have a new master chef!' Word spread, and people came from far and wide just to see the 'blind chef' and taste his cooking.

The Path to the Monastery

Three years passed. I was famous, wealthy, and secure, yet my heart remained empty. I was not happy. My cooking began to lose its flavour, and my master asked me what was wrong. I told him everything. He listened with such wisdom and said, 'For years, I have heard people praise you, yet you never grew arrogant. I have seen people flock here, yet you remained humble. Your character is something I have never seen in my life. You are a man of great potential. If this is not what you seek, I will let you go to pursue your own path.' I admired him deeply for his understanding.

The next day, I left. I was robbed of all my money almost immediately, becoming a beggar once more. It was a profound lesson on the fleeting nature of wealth—how people spend their lives chasing it, only for it to vanish in an instant. I asked passersby if there was a monastery nearby where I could practise. Someone told me, 'If you can endure hardship, there is a monastery on the mountain, but few dare to go there. The master is very strict.' I set off at once. When I arrived, the silence was so profound I could hear a leaf falling to the ground. Before I even reached the gate, a monk came out and said, 'The Master knew you would come today. He asks: "How can you practise if you cannot see?"' I replied, "I can practise with my heart. I wish to cultivate this ordinary heart, to learn the compassion of the Buddha to help all beings." The monk said, "Come in." I began working in the kitchen, learning to let go of my own opinions, to respect others, and to grow through mutual encouragement. It was the beginning of my true practice.'"

"During those three years of tempering in the kitchen, my Master asked me, 'How is your heart being polished?' I replied, 'It is certainly not easy, but I am still willing to continue refining myself.' My Master praised my perseverance, for in those three years, more than twenty people had left the kitchen; they chose to depart simply because they could not tolerate each other's personalities. Through my interactions with others, I learned that whenever someone else had an opinion, if I took the initiative to step back, not only would there be no conflict, but we would also be able to accept one another.

The Path of Diligent Practice

I began to study the Buddha’s teachings under my Master, and one could say I was fiercely diligent. I knew the preciousness of this human body. Even a blind person, as long as they are willing to work hard and be sincere, can benefit from the Buddha’s teachings and break through all kinds of difficulties to help other beings. My perseverance was unmatched; it was a firm heart of service that allowed me to persist and never give up. After ten years, I regained my sight, only to see that the world before me was filled with such suffering. Before my eyes were restored, I had imagined what human faces looked like, but now that I could see, I discovered that people's faces were a hundred times more filled with suffering than I had ever imagined. I told myself, 'Only by practicing more diligently can I save these pitiful people before me.'

Awakening and the Journey of Deliverance

After twenty years of practice, I completely let go of the 'self.' In my practice, there was no 'self,' and my heart remained constantly in a state of meditative concentration, elevating my level of practice every single day. Through my practice, I achieved Awakening, and my Wisdom grew as I travelled everywhere to save sentient beings. When everyone saw me again, they could hardly believe that I was the same blind beggar from years ago. Even my mother found it hard to believe. In this lifetime, I guided my own mother to learn the Buddha’s teachings; some of my older brothers were willing to follow, while others were not. I did not take this to heart, as everything follows the Law of Causal Conditions. Wherever I went, I taught the Dharma, and no matter how many people I saved, I did so with a joyful heart, following the conditions as they arose.

A Debt of Gratitude to Practitioner Su

After I returned to the Western Land, I often listened to the sutras and heard the Dharma before Namo Amituofo, with the intention of once again making a vow to descend and save sentient beings. The news of Practitioner Su’s leg injury soon reached my ears. I was listening to Namo Amituofo teaching the Dharma when I immediately followed other venerable ones into Practitioner Su’s leg to help heal the injury. Today, Practitioner Su’s leg is even stronger than before, and Practitioner Su’s entire body has been completely renewed, with physical strength and energy far exceeding what it was in the past. Every morsel of food Practitioner Su consumes is for the purpose of gaining more energy to help beings, and every step taken is to save even more beings. Practitioner Su’s heart never leaves the beings for a single moment. With such a great heart and Ultimate Vow, Practitioner Su receives the compassionate blessing of Namo Amituofo’s power to save more suffering beings, helping them forever depart from the suffering of karma.

A Legacy of Compassion

I follow and learn every day, hoping to emulate Practitioner Su’s compassion in saving spirits. Practitioner Su’s heart is praised by all Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, humans, heavenly beings, and spirits. I am deeply grateful for Practitioner Su’s supreme compassion. Namo Amituofo."

This interview was recorded by the chief writer, disciple Shi Fajing.