The Hollow Bamboo and the Heart of Compassion

This is a record of an interview with the Venerable Zhu Meng, who lived approximately 270 years ago. He sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia and now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This testimony was recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa Jing, on June 25, 2019.

Venerable Zhu Meng speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Zhu Meng. My home was a small, humble cottage nestled deep within a lush bamboo forest, where I spent the entirety of my childhood. My father was a master craftsman of great renown; his hands were large, powerful, and incredibly dexterous. Every piece of furniture in our home was fashioned by him from the sturdy bamboo stalks he harvested. Our neighbours often marvelled at his exceptional skill, noting how he could transform simple, raw stalks into furniture that was both remarkably sturdy and aesthetically elegant. We relied entirely on the sale of bamboo shoots and my father’s intricate handicrafts to survive. We were ten children in total, and my parents gave us all names containing the character for 'bamboo'. I was the eighth child, hence the name Zhu Meng.

The Art of the Bamboo Craftsman

Among all my siblings, I was the only one who truly mastered my father’s entire repertoire of techniques. From a very young age, I loved following him, working diligently by his side. At the time, I believed that inheriting my father’s trade and carrying on his legacy was the highest form of filial piety I could possibly offer. I felt a deep sense of purpose in the rhythmic scraping of the bamboo and the precise carving of the wood.

I still remember when I was six years old, taking my own handmade crafts to the street to sell for the first time. My skill was not yet as refined as my father’s, and business was understandably slow. I did not feel discouraged, however; I simply continued to learn from my father, honing my craft with patience. One day, as I was preparing to pack up my stall, a woman approached. She looked utterly miserable, her brows furrowed in deep, inconsolable sorrow. She stopped in her tracks, drawn by the bamboo wind chimes I had made. As the breeze blew, the chimes emitted a beautiful, resonant sound. The melody seemed to pierce through her weariness, stirring her heart. I looked at her face—it was devoid of any smile, filled with a gloom as dark as storm clouds. She held up a chime and asked, 'How much for this?' I smiled gently and told her, 'It is a gift for you. There is no charge.' The woman looked at me in astonishment. 'I have been sitting under this tree all day,' she said, 'watching the crowds pass by. No one has bought your wares. I have listened to these chimes all day, and the sound has brought a measure of peace to my heart. I came specifically to buy one. I am your only customer today; why would you not take my money?'

The Wisdom of the Hollow Bamboo

I looked at this kind-hearted but suffering woman and replied, 'Your kindness has added an even more beautiful tone to the bamboo. Even I am moved by your goodness. These chimes were made by my own hands, and I wish to give them to you as a gift.' The woman looked at me, then at the chimes in her hand, and suddenly burst into tears. I asked her with concern, 'What has happened?' She sobbed, 'I have never done a bad deed in my life. I would not even kill an ant. I have always tried to help others whenever I saw someone in need. Today, I saw you, a mere child, trying to sell your goods without success, and I wanted to help you by buying these chimes. I have spent my whole life doing good, yet I do not know why my life remains so bitter. Nothing goes my way. My husband has fallen for another woman, and my children are disobedient and rebellious. Today, my own son drove me out of the house. I have been sitting here all day, not knowing where to go. Can anyone tell me why, despite a lifetime of good deeds, my life is still filled with such misery?'

She was clearly a kind soul, yet she was trapped in suffering. I told her, 'Look at these bamboo wind chimes. It is precisely because the bamboo is hollow—because it is 'mindless'—that it can produce such beautiful sounds. Our hearts should be like the bamboo: empty and without attachment, so that we may live a beautiful life.' The woman understood immediately. 'It is true,' she said. 'In everything I have done, I have held an expectation. I hoped that by doing good, my family situation would improve. According to your words, I should be more 'mindless' in my actions.' I nodded. 'Exactly. My father taught me that one should do good without seeking reward. If you do good with a calculating mind, it is not only joyless, but you may also develop negative thoughts when your expectations are not met. If you can perform good deeds without attachment, perhaps your home will change through the merit and blessings you accumulate.' As she took my words to heart, her expression transformed. The sorrow vanished, replaced by a faint smile. It was her own restless, demanding mind that had caused her suffering. From that day on, it seemed I could use the bamboo as a metaphor to guide every customer who came to my stall, helping them find a new light in their lives amidst their bitter fates.

A Vow to Save Sentient Beings

The purity of the bamboo forest made my own heart clearer. I would take a bamboo ladle and scoop up water, using its clarity to wash my mind. I wished for my heart to be as transparent and pure as that water, and for my life to be filled with virtuous deeds. I knew that the vows I made required diligent practice to realise. I learned from that woman’s spirit, helping others to the best of my ability, but I did so according to conditions, never forcing an outcome. I sought to be like the bamboo—mindless, acting without calculation or grasping.

After years of training, I mastered my father’s craft, eventually creating pieces even more exquisite than his, including furniture he had never attempted. My reputation grew, and my honesty earned the trust of all who bought from me. Our family’s financial situation improved, and we lived a stable, comfortable life. Yet, my heart did not feel settled. I longed for something more than just earning money. I felt I would rather live in poverty than waste my life merely accumulating wealth. My name became well-known throughout the town. My handsome appearance also attracted many admirers, and my parents constantly pressured me to marry. 'Which one do you fancy today?' they would ask. I could never answer, for I had never truly looked at any woman with the intention of marriage. Even the most beautiful woman could not capture my attention. Marriage was not the most important thing in my life. If I could fulfil the dream in my heart and fill the void within, I was willing to live a solitary life.

The Impermanence of Life

What was this dream? At the time, I could not grasp it. I felt there was something in this world far more compelling than crafting bamboo. I spent three years searching through the crowds, looking for the path I was meant to follow. When I was fifteen, my father fell ill. It seemed as though he aged overnight. He became frail and thin, and soon he was bedridden. I set aside my work to care for him, for to me, nothing was more important than filial piety. I was willing to sacrifice everything to look after him.

As his illness progressed, he grew weaker and spoke less. Eventually, he lacked the strength to even talk. To keep him company, I told him stories of the village or tales I had heard from others. Often, he would fall asleep while listening. Watching him sleep, I felt a profound sadness. His limbs were like mere bones, so different from the strong, powerful father I remembered. In just a few years, his body had undergone such a drastic change. In that moment, I understood the impermanence of life more clearly than ever. I became certain that I must not waste my life; there was something far more important waiting for me to achieve. After two years of caring for him, I deeply understood the suffering of sickness and death. After laying him to rest, I adjusted my mindset and embarked on a new journey.

The Path of the Dharma

I travelled from my village, where there was no Buddha-Dharma, to regions where the teachings were flourishing. When I saw a monk chanting the Buddha’s name to bring peace to others, explaining the Dharma to resolve their problems, and helping them break through delusion to attain enlightenment, I knew my path. I was an ignorant man who had never known the Buddha, but the moment I tasted the flavour of the Dharma, I knelt before the Buddha and vowed: 'In this life, I must attain Buddhahood and spread the Dharma to benefit all beings.'

I felt a pang of regret that I had not known the Dharma sooner to save my father, but I accepted that fate had arranged it so. Now, I could only make a firm vow to use the Buddha’s teachings to save the masses, so that people might suffer less and all might attain rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. In the monastery, I never slacked. While others rested, I practised diligently in the main hall. It was not for the approval of my master or to surpass my fellow practitioners, but because I understood the suffering of the world. Without the Buddha’s teachings, people do not know how to leave suffering behind. They view sickness and old age as natural, unavoidable phenomena. Before I learned the Dharma, I was the same. I thought filial piety meant simply sitting by my parents' side, preparing their meals, and chatting with them. Without the Dharma, I did not realise that this was not true filial piety. No matter how much I did, they still suffered and eventually left me. Now, I understand that I could have taught them to chant the Buddha’s name and seek rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. My life was ordinary, but after learning the Dharma, I resolved to live differently, sharing the Buddha’s teachings with the world.

At the age of thirty, I shaved my head and became a monk, truly spreading the Dharma as a Bhikshu. I travelled everywhere, helping people see the truth of the Buddha’s teachings. The Dharma brings stability to the heart and leads people away from suffering. I carried the mission of saving beings, practising diligently until the Buddha came to lead me to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss.

The Light of the Buddha

An ordinary life can create an extraordinary legacy. Practitioner Su transformed from an ordinary woman into a Great Buddha of Light, saving sentient beings throughout the universe. It is her compassion and vow that give her the perseverance to practise tirelessly on the Buddha’s path. Everyone can learn to cultivate the Dharma Body skills that Practitioner Su possesses, saving countless beings across immeasurable worlds.

When a shooting star streaks across the sky, one might wonder if countless beings in the universe have lost their homes. Practitioner Su brings immense energy into the universe, rescuing these spirits. When the six-character name—Namo Amituofo—resounds, golden light illuminates the universe. Every planet, every particle, is bathed in the Buddha’s light and attains liberation. Even dysfunctional celestial bodies are reborn as energy gathers once more. The chaotic magnetic fields of the universe are harmonised and purified through Practitioner Su’s Dharma Body deliverance and her daily teachings.

The Buddha transforms all worlds and all hearts. Wherever the Buddha is, beings can be saved, and hearts can be transformed, finding the opportunity for liberation. Everyone can be like Practitioner Su, bringing the Buddha everywhere. One’s own body becomes the Buddha; every action is a manifestation of the Buddha’s presence. Even a leg injury is a way of bearing the suffering of others. Every cell, every sinew, is filled with the Buddha’s heart and mind. I am grateful for Practitioner Su’s compassion, and I am grateful for the Buddha’s compassion. Namo Amituofo."

This interview was recorded by the disciple Shi Fa Jing.