The Eternal Release from Suffering

This is a record of an interview with Xianda, who sought Chao Du 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 390 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa Jing, on August 9, 2019.

Xianda speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Xianda. To speak of the cycle of rebirth, those who possess a physical body find it difficult to perceive the suffering of samsara. This is because the illusions of the world appear far too beautiful and real. We are constantly swept away by the currents, turning according to our circumstances. Even if one has made great and profound vows in the past, in a single moment of unawareness, one can be tossed about in the cycle of rebirth for many lifetimes.

If I were to say that I have descended from the Western Pure Land, few would believe me. They would say I am slandering the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, for how could such a filthy being as I exist there? I turned my head, and several flies were shaken off. They circled once and returned to my head, for these flies have grown accustomed to the stench of my body; no matter where I go, they are drawn to follow me.

The Fall from Grace

If I were to say that I was once a wealthy and prominent man of status, it would be equally hard for anyone to believe. I am now so destitute that I do not even have a complete set of clothes to wear. The garment I wear now was scavenged from a rubbish heap; it counts as my new clothes for the year, as I have only just picked it up. If I could not see my past, I would find it hard to believe myself. When I was a wealthy man, the tableware I used was strictly gold—bowls, chopsticks, and spoons. The pillows and quilts I slept upon were unique in the world, and my clothes were crafted by many hands using the finest silk. I had many friends because I loved to host banquets; lively gatherings were my favourite occasions. I always loved to stand out in a crowd, making myself the centre of attention.

Although I lived a life of great enjoyment, I also understood the value of Generosity. I was not stingy in helping the poor, and I was happy to share my wealth. Building bridges, paving roads, expanding infrastructure, supporting education, and relieving the suffering of the poor were things I did often. Thus, I earned a good reputation in town, and people called me a great Bodhisattva, a man of great Goodness, and a philanthropist with a vast mind-capacity. My wealth and reputation truly earned me the respect and admiration of many. No matter where I went, everyone knew me, and they called me the Respected Philanthropist.

The Illusion of Prosperity

I loved children, so I took many wives and concubines to bear them. They were very fertile; each bore me at least three children, and with eight wives, I had over twenty children. It could be said that my descendants were numerous and my family line was flourishing. I actively cultivated these twenty-plus children, giving them the best education and the best life, hoping they would use their talents to contribute to society. When they grew up, they were indeed outstanding. Seeing their growth, I was quite satisfied; my efforts and careful upbringing were not in vain.

Many people said that after I passed away, I would surely go to a good place—perhaps to be born into another wealthy family, or perhaps to the heavens to become a celestial being. I did not know where I would go. After I died, I went to the underworld. Even there, I was a person of status, for my filial descendants burned much paper money for me every month. But for some reason, I began to grow stingy. I was no longer as generous as before. My greed made me want to possess more. Each month, the money burned for me felt less and less, and I wanted more and more. I had a house, a bed, a carriage, servants, and loved ones. There, I enjoyed a life identical to the human world, not knowing that hundreds of years had passed in the blink of an eye.

The Cycle of Diminishing Returns

Although I had done many good deeds in the human world in that life, my heart still held greed. I was greedy for fame, for family, and for emotion. These greeds were enough to prevent me from going to a good place, leaving me to wander in the underworld. Later, I was reincarnated as a bird—a noble and rare bird, living for years in the deep mountains, with a massive physique. My feathers were vibrant and colourful; everyone who saw me would exclaim in admiration. But I would quickly disappear from their sight, for I was stingy with sharing my beauty. The food I ate was the finest fruit, but I was also stingy about sharing it with my companions or other birds, always keeping it all for myself.

Eventually, I was reincarnated into various other types of birds. My body became smaller and smaller; it was my small mind-capacity that caused my form to shrink. I also grew uglier and uglier, and no one wanted to admire me anymore. The places where I built my nests moved closer and closer to human crowds, and the food I ate became worms on the ground. I could no longer live in the deep mountains, eating the large, sweet fruits that the world had never seen. Now, I have been reincarnated into the human world again, becoming the wretched figure you see before you.

A Life of Destitution

The child of that poor family by the well has been born! the villagers were discussing heatedly. Look, they are so poor and yet they can still have a child, so what are we afraid of? Oh, don't say that! Whether they can afford to raise the child is another matter! Don't let them come begging to us later! That family is so poor they can't even afford three meals a day. Having this child is just adding trouble to their own lives; why must they have this child? The idle people on the street were chattering away. And that newborn child of the poor family was me.

My mother would pick up many yellowed, discarded vegetable leaves and bring them home. From this pile of rotten leaves, she would pick out what was edible to prepare our dinner. I would also fetch some well water for my mother to cook with. Although my mother only had me as a son, our life was very bitter. Because my father had once been overcome by greed, he had incurred debts outside, and every month, people would come to our door to demand payment. The money my father earned with such difficulty was barely enough to pay the debts, leaving only a pittance. It was impossible to sustain a month's living. Sometimes there was truly nothing to eat, and we would only eat two meals a day, or even one. That is why I grew up very thin and small; compared to children of my age, I was a whole head shorter.

The Collapse of a World

One morning in my fourth year, when I woke up and opened my eyes, I saw that the ceiling above me was not there; instead, it was the bright, scorching sky. What on earth is happening? I looked at where I was lying—it was not my bed, but the side of the street. Where is Father? Where is Mother? I looked around anxiously, not knowing what had happened. At that moment, I began to hear people on the street whispering to each other. They were talking about our family: Look at that poor child. Now he can only sleep on the side of the road. His home is gone, and his father and mother have been taken away because of debts! The child doesn't even know what happened. Sigh, how pitiful. I was stunned. Father and Mother taken away because of debts? Didn't we give those people money every month? How could this happen now? And why was I left here?

I stood up, ready to walk home, but I circled the area for a long time and could not find where my home was. I had to believe that the pile of demolished wood before me was my home! My home had become a pile of timber. From the debris, I saw my favourite toy—the birthday gift my father had given me. I quickly picked it up and held it tightly to my chest. At that moment, my tears fell. Am I dreaming? I punched myself hard. It was not a dream; it had truly happened.

The Wanderer's Path

I walked the streets alone, penniless, not knowing where to go or where my parents were. I became a street urchin in the village. Some kind aunts would share some food with me, and others would give me clothes their children no longer wanted. But when the weather turned cold, I could only huddle in a corner; when it rained, I would hide under someone's eaves. I stopped thinking about anything; I just lived one day at a time. My body had lost all feeling, and my heart seemed to have turned cold. Despite this sudden turn of events, I had become somewhat indifferent, yet deep inside, there was still a flicker of hope—the hope that one day I might see the familiar figures of my parents again.

I lived without a goal. Since I began wandering, I had never washed my body. Counting the time, several years had passed. My hair was so dirty it was matted together, emitting waves of stench. Flies loved this smell; it was no different from excrement. I lived the life of a beggar, wondering if I would have to live like this for the rest of my life.

The Encounter Under the Tree

One day, the weather was extremely hot. I found a large tree and sat under it to cool off. Wherever I was, no one else would appear, because the smell on my body was truly unbearable. Especially the children on the street; as soon as they smelled me, they would immediately cover their noses and run away. Regarding everyone's reaction, I had become indifferent, for this was my fate, and I could not change anything. I was talking to myself under the tree, full of helplessness and despair. Suddenly, someone responded: Why must you be so self-deprecating? I was startled. How could someone respond to what I said? I looked back and saw an old man sitting on the other side of the tree.

The old man asked me: Child, how old are you this year? I did not know how much time had passed. When the elder asked, I truly could not answer. I scratched my head and told him: I have been wandering for a long time. The old man asked again: What does wandering taste like? No one had ever asked me that before. I replied: My heart has never been at peace for a single day. I do not know where I will wander to next, or where I will find food to fill this hungry belly today. The old man asked: Have you ever felt resentment? The word resentment was not unfamiliar to me. I nodded: I have indeed felt resentment. The old man asked: Are you angry at your parents? I replied: I am angry, because I don't know why they left me alone. If they had to pay debts, they could have taken me with them, but they chose to leave me behind. The old man asked: Have you ever thought about how you want to live your life? I shook my head: I have thought about it, but I cannot imagine it, nor can I achieve it. The old man said: The arrangements of fate always make people smile through tears.

The Law of Cause and Effect

I looked up at the old man and asked: Is the elder also toyed with by fate? The old man looked into the distance, appearing lost in thought. After a long silence, he spoke: I once had a loving wife and a pair of lovely children. I told my wife: Our feelings will not change with the passing of years; I will love you forever, not just in this life, but throughout all our many lives. My wife was moved by these words and lay in my arms. Our bond was so intense; we were a loving couple envied by all. My children were very filial to me. They understood the hardship of my work and would always do thoughtful things to please me. I was often made to laugh heartily by them. Every year on my birthday, they would give me a big surprise, so I would look forward to my birthday every year, wondering what special arrangements they would make.

However, fate is truly good at playing tricks on people. While I was out working, a great fire took my wife and children away. When I received the news and rushed home, the entire house had been reduced to ashes. I could not find where my wife and children were; their bodies had merged with the ashes. I knelt and wept bitterly, crying out to the Heavens for toying with people. Why take away my happy family? At that time, I was in such pain that I could barely go on living. I kept thinking: why not take me, instead of taking my three dearest ones to torture me? Several times I wanted to end my life, but I was saved. It seems this life is destined to be tormented in this world until I die naturally. This happened more than ten years ago. Although my mood has calmed down, I still feel these past events are vivid in my mind. The old man's eyes were filled with tears; it seemed he was still missing his wife and children. The old man continued: At first, I constantly lamented my fate, but when I learned that all of this is due to Causal Conditions, I stopped complaining. It turns out that in my past lives, I had caused countless families to taste such suffering. Now, they are seeking revenge, wanting me to taste the pain they felt back then. I find it hard to imagine my past cruelty, that I had caused so many families to suffer the pain of separation from loved ones. Losing a family, losing one's dearest, is more agonizing than losing one's own life. I was puzzled: Causal Conditions? The old man said: Yes! This world has the law of cause and effect. The negative causes and good causes created in the past result in the suffering and blessings we taste in this life. It is clearly recorded in the void, and one cannot escape it. I asked: How do you know this? The old man said: A monk told me.

A New Beginning

To visit the temple, I specifically went to the river to wash myself thoroughly from head to toe. It took me a long time to clean my body, which had not been washed for years. The flies on my head finally parted ways with me. Now, feeling refreshed and carrying a heart of joy, I walked toward the temple.

Early in the morning, I stood outside the temple gate, waiting for it to open. When I walked into the temple, the solemnity and dignity within immediately made me feel a sense of reverence. My words and actions naturally became cautious and serious; I dared not easily disturb the majesty of the temple. After the monks finished their meal, they walked out of the dining hall in an orderly fashion, each holding a bowl—the utensil they used for eating. I bowed my head in prostration, only raising it after they had all passed, expressing my respect for the Sangha Jewel. A volunteer Bodhisattva dressed in clean, neat clothes walked toward me and asked: Little Bodhisattva, you have come to the temple so early today; is there anything you need help with? I was too nervous to speak, but the volunteer waited patiently. I finally said slowly: I want to ask about my life.

A dignified monk walked in my direction. From afar, I bowed to him, and only when he reached me did I dare to raise my head. When the monk asked what my problem was, I told him of my life's experiences and asked how I should live the rest of my life. The monk asked: Do you have any requests for this life? I shook my head and replied: I have no requests, nor do I know what there is to request. The monk said compassionately: The world is inherently an illusory dream. Those who can awaken within the dream are those with tremendous blessings. Those who can awaken within the dream, take refuge in the Sangha, and spend their lives practicing the Bodhisattva path to save sentient beings are those with great Wisdom.

The Path to Liberation

The monk picked up a brush from the table, wrote the character Buddha on a piece of paper, gave it to me, and said: The end of life is death. Where you go after death depends on the sins you have created in this life and your past karma; no one can know where you will go after you die. You can choose to live the life of a worldly ordinary person, pursuing various desires, creating the peak of your career or a happy family, but in the end, you must face impermanence, illness, and death. You can also choose to learn the Buddha's teachings amidst the dust of the world, practice Generosity and Precepts, perform good deeds throughout your life, and seek rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. You can even abandon the red dust, take refuge with a single mind, practice in purity for a lifetime, shave your head to become a monk, propagate the Dharma, and for the sake of saving beings, sacrifice your body and life. Such a person will have great merit, and the Buddha can use your strength to save sentient beings. If you can maintain pure Precepts, avoid the evil realms, keep your heart as clear as polished glass, constantly keep the suffering of sentient beings in mind, and seize the time to practice diligently, you will surely attain Buddhahood and realize the Buddha-fruit. This way, you will not have lived this life in vain, and you will return gloriously to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss.

After hearing what the monk said, I asked: How can I draw close to the Buddha's gate? The monk told me: You can listen to the scriptures and essential teachings in the temple, or you can offer your labour to serve the masses. More importantly, never forget the Buddha-heart, the Buddha-thought, and the Buddha-actions. I was grateful for the monk's teachings; it seemed that from my dark life, I began to see the light again.

A Vow to Save All

Facing life, I could have wasted it away, and time would have passed just as quickly. But even if I did not fear the arrival of illness or impermanence, I should have thought of my soul, which was about to be reincarnated again. As my heart became purer, I could feel the suffering of the soul within me more deeply. Through the cycles of rebirth over many lifetimes, I had wandered to countless places. When I saw that I had once been a wealthy philanthropist and another time an animal, I shook my head. Where in this world is worth staying? Only by seeking rebirth in the Western Pure Land can my soul be saved.

My heart became calmer and purer; there were no more wild thoughts, only the single word Buddha. The moment the Great Monk shaved my head, I was moved to tears. These tears were in gratitude for my parents' kindness in raising me; these tears were in gratitude that the Buddha did not abandon me, allowing me, after many lifetimes of reincarnation, to still have the opportunity to hear the Buddha's teachings and stay away from the six realms. These tears were because I thought of the suffering of sentient beings, and I vowed to dedicate my body and mind to the dust of the world, to practice diligently with this body, to save sentient beings, and to help them all break through delusion and attain enlightenment, to turn from ordinary to holy, and to move from darkness into light.

I devoted myself entirely to the Buddha's teachings, wandering the world and forgetting the years. When I returned to the temple, I realized that several years had passed. In those years of travelling everywhere to propagate the scriptures and Dharma, I saw that my own compassion was still insufficient. In daily life, everything is practice; every day I truly repent, adjust my own heart, and expand my mind-capacity to become one with all beings.

The world is vast, yet I am so small. To be able to use my tiny strength to save sentient spirits is truly my honour. I will surely go all out, learning the Buddha's heart of compassion. Regardless of wind, sun, or rain, I must travel everywhere to save the masses. Now that I have the Causal Conditions for rebirth in the Western Pure Land, I am grateful that the Buddha is compassionate and does not abandon me. I vow to enter the world again to save it, and to continue the bond of propagating the Dharma.

The Compassion of Practitioner Su

Practitioner Su is compassionate and does not abandon a single wandering being. Wherever the Chao Du passes, if there is a being who wishes to be saved but has not been rescued in time, she will surely turn around and pull them up, allowing them to be saved and to escape the suffering of reincarnation. The number of sentient beings is so vast that it is difficult to save them all. Practitioner Su, with her Dharma Body, manifests in countless billions to rescue sentient and non-sentient beings from the six realms, allowing them to attain liberation. Such a grand undertaking, besides requiring sufficient compassion and mind-capacity, also requires boldness and drive—all of which Practitioner Su possesses. Although she appears in this life in a female body, she has the bearing of a great man, with great courage and strength, and a heart without fear.

In this age of the Dharma’s decline, human beings are difficult to save; they possess all kinds of bad habits like suspicion, jealousy, and stinginess. If one is not a true believer, it is difficult to save them with this great Dharma. If those with good roots, blessings, and Causal Conditions can listen to this Dharma, practice it with sincerity, follow the teachings, and make great vows, under the Buddha's blessings, their own efforts and the Buddha's power will become one. They will surely be able to acquire the skills of Practitioner Su to propagate the Dharma and save the world. I hope that people in the world will make great vows of compassion. Seeing the suffering of sentient beings, if each person contributes their own strength to save ten thousand spirits, more sentient spirits will be saved, the chaos in the world will decrease, and the time for world peace will return.

I am grateful for the Buddha's compassion, and I am grateful for the compassion of Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.