The Path of Following Causal Conditions

This is a record of an interview with Tu Fangda, who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. This account reflects upon his life approximately 560 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on January 11, 2020.

Tu Fangda speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Tu Fangda. Looking at the footprints layered upon one another on the ground—these are the traces left by those who walked before me. I stopped in my tracks, my heart wondering: 'Everyone is walking this same path, but where does it truly end? Are all those who tread this road living well now?' I did not continue forward. Instead, I turned my body and headed toward a different path. I thought to myself, this road is better suited for me. Although no one else was walking it, I believed that I could carve out a life that was uniquely my own.

The Horizon of Hope

The sea and sky merged into one—a boundless firmament, an endless ocean. I stood on the shore, gazing ahead at a vista of light and hope. No matter how many stones are thrown into this vast ocean, the waves continue to crash against the shore just the same. It is through this kind of perseverance, this kind of steadfastness, that life never truly stops; one must only continue to press forward.

My mother once said, 'I am responsible for giving you this human body, but you are responsible for your own life.' It is true. No one can be responsible for my life but me. In this vast sea of humanity, I am but one individual. What is it that makes me stand out from the crowd? There is something, but it is not my appearance, nor is it the background into which I was born. It is the heart within me. The longing in my heart is not for how to live a brilliant life, but for how to be liberated from it. I have been searching—searching for the place that truly belongs to me. It is certainly not the world before my eyes, but a place free from the various disturbances of the world, a place of only purity and light.

The Heart and the Dust

The dust on the land rises with the wind, filling the sky. Everyone struggles as they walk through the dust, unable to see the path ahead, blindly following blurred shadows. My body was covered in dust, and I reached out to brush it off, again and again. Yet, the dust fell only to settle once more. Because I am in the midst of the dust, how could this body not be stained? I took off my outer garment, and the dust I had just accumulated quickly left me. I put the garment back on, and in an instant, I was covered in dust again. Taking it off, putting it on—I repeated this action. The dust fell and rose, fell and clung. I realised it! This outer garment is my heart. Without a heart, there is no dust; with a heart, there is dust. Where does this murky dust come from? It is nothing more than what is gathered while being in this world. It is the heart being in sync with the dust, and so the dust can stain the heart. If the heart does not give rise to thoughts of dust, how could the dust ever stain it?

A Family Without Affinity

Coming into this world, I have walked this path time and again. I have possessed a human body, and I have possessed the body of a beast. I have been one who has attained awakening, and I have been a fool. In this life, I was born as a descendant of the Tu family. Complex Causal Conditions bound my parents, my siblings, and me into a family. Although I was the flesh and blood of my parents, I had no affinity with them. Among the nine children, I was always the one who was forgotten.

I once asked my mother, 'Am I your child?' She replied, 'You were indeed born of me, but can I choose not to have you as a child?' At that moment, my heart was deeply shaken. The person speaking to me was my mother, yet she asked if she could reject me. Her words left me stunned and wounded. I asked her, 'Why do you not want me?' She only replied coldly, 'There is no affinity between us.'"

Every single day, I spent countless hours cleaning my parents' room, ensuring it was spotless. I knew my mother demanded perfection—not even a single strand of hair was tolerated. I cleaned with such meticulous care, checking every corner for the slightest speck of dust or stray hair before I dared to step out. Even then, I would double-check every surface, terrified that a clumsy movement might cause dust to fall from the ceiling and soil the room again. One day, my parents returned home. As soon as my mother entered the room, she let out a piercing shriek. My father, who was in the living room preparing tea, rushed in immediately. 'What happened?' he demanded. My mother cried, 'Did you see the box of gold bars on my table?' My father looked confused. 'Since when do we have gold bars in this house? I know nothing of this!' My mother insisted, 'They were there! I took them out from under the bed just yesterday and left them on this table. How could they vanish the moment I return? Bring Fangda here this instant!'

The False Accusation

Before my father could even call for me, I had already overheard their conversation. I was bewildered—I had never even seen a gold bar in my life—but my father came to fetch me. Before I could even step into the room, I heard my mother sobbing. As I approached, she grabbed my arm and screamed, 'Did you steal my gold?' I shook my head frantically. 'No, Mother, I have never seen any gold bars. I would never dare touch your belongings. Please, you must believe me.' She looked at me with pure contempt, convinced of my guilt. Finally, my father suggested, 'Let us check where Fangda sleeps; if he stole them, we will find them there.' My mother scoffed, 'Who would be foolish enough to hide stolen goods where they sleep? That is just asking to be caught!'

Despite her words, my father walked toward the woodshed where I slept. The air was thick with the scent of timber. He searched high and low, but found nothing. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a box pressed beneath a pile of wood. He exerted great effort to move the logs and retrieved the box. When he opened it, I was completely stunned. My mother entered the shed just then, saw the box in my father's hands, and shrieked, 'Look! I told you it was Fangda! To think we have been raising a rat in our own home! Bring me a broom—I will drive this vermin out of my house today!' She grabbed a piece of firewood and began raining blows upon me. My father tried to intervene, pleading, 'Give him a chance! Perhaps there is some misunderstanding.' But my mother was beyond reason. 'A thief is a thief! What excuse could he possibly have? Should I give him time to concoct a lie? Never! I am casting him out of the Tu family today. I have no such thieving son! Do not ever tell anyone I am your mother!'

A Life of Scarcity

I truly did not understand what was happening. My father looked at me and said, 'I cannot help you. Pack your things and leave at once.' I looked at him with innocent, pleading eyes, but he turned away and walked out of the shed. I knew then that no one in this house would stand for me. I had no choice but to leave. I looked around the shed; I had nothing to take. The clothes on my back were rags I had scavenged from outside. My mother never bought me clothes; she wouldn't even let me have my brother's hand-me-downs. She would say, 'I bought these clothes. Even if your brother cannot wear them, I have no obligation to give them to you. Fend for yourself!' Fortunately, I knew of a spot near the local Earth God temple where people often discarded unwanted items. I would dig through the piles to find clothes that fit. They were dirty and tattered, but after washing and mending them, they were all I had. If the villagers didn't know I was a member of the Tu family, I would have looked like a common beggar. But I didn't care; as long as I had something to cover myself, I was content.

The Kindness of a Stranger

I remember when I was six years old, a kind woman I called Auntie Tang—a truly virtuous soul—saw me walking down the street in my rags. She approached me, her heart aching, and asked, 'Child, did your family not buy you any clothes?' I replied, 'I have clothes, Auntie, there is no need to buy more.' She looked at me with such pity. 'But your clothes are so tattered they should be thrown away! How can such thin, broken rags protect you from the cold?' Without another word, she took me to buy new clothes. I tried to decline, but she was insistent. She picked out over a dozen outfits, spending a small fortune, yet she didn't seem to mind at all. She was beaming with satisfaction and even insisted I change into one right there. When I put on the high-quality fabric, she exclaimed, 'What a handsome child you are! Such a beautiful face, hidden under rags. Look how wonderful you look now! You are truly photogenic!'

I lowered my head, shy. It was the first time in my life I had worn new clothes, and it felt so strange. But soon, I took them off. Auntie Tang asked in surprise, 'Why are you taking them off?' I told her, 'Auntie, the homeless children on the street are just as handsome as I am, yet they too wear rags. If they had the chance to wear such fine clothes, I believe their spirits would be transformed. I am just lucky to have met you, but I do not have the merit to keep these. Could we give them to the orphans instead, so they all have something new to wear?' Auntie Tang smiled. 'You have such a kind heart, thinking of the others. I will buy more for them, but these are for you to keep.' I insisted, and after some discussion, I kept only one set and gave the rest to the orphans. Seeing the joy on their faces as they received the clothes made me happier than any new garment ever could. However, when I returned home in my new clothes, my mother was furious. 'Where did you get these?' When I told her about Auntie Tang, her face twisted in rage. 'You have brought such shame upon me! When did our family ever need charity from that woman? You have the audacity to accept her gifts! Take them off and throw them away!' I took them off, but I could not bring myself to discard them. I secretly gave them to the orphans instead. That was three years ago. Now, I have no home at all. I took one last look at the shed, and without taking a single thing, I walked out of the Tu family home in my tattered rags.

Reflections on Affinity

Walking through the bustling streets, wandering through empty alleys, and treading upon the lonely roads of a foreign land, I kept moving forward. I had no idea where I was going. 'What is the nature of a family? What is the affinity that binds them? Why does one family become a source of love, while another becomes a source of tragedy or hatred?' Along this journey, I have observed many families—some harmonious, some miserable and helpless, and others torn apart by internal strife. Every kind of family exists. This... this must be the Law of Cause, Condition, and Effect. Speaking of affinity, I suddenly remembered something from when I was five. I didn't know the character for 'affinity' then, but I saw it on the street. A scholar who made his living by calligraphy and painting had drawn a picture that caught my eye. Even though I was in a hurry to buy food for dinner, I stopped at his stall to see what it was. It depicted only a few clouds drifting in the sky, with the words 'Follow Affinity' inscribed upon it. I asked the artist, 'What does this mean? How do you read these characters?' He told me, 'This is read as

‘Follow Affinity.’ I understood. The beauty of the scenery unfolded before my eyes, and I walked with a light, easy step, savouring every vista. I realised that when I stopped clinging to these affinities, the world before me became vast and brilliant. It was because my heart was no longer self-limiting. Who says I belong to any particular family? I am wandering freely in the clouds; where is not my home? When the state of one’s heart changes, the world changes with it. It is not that the world itself has shifted, but rather that when the heart no longer lingers in attachment, the world loses its deceptive charm. Every scene I see now is crystal clear, without a single shadow or obstacle.

The Two Paths of Existence

Before me lay a fork in the road. Everyone chose the straight, wide path, which was already crowded with the footprints of those who had walked it before. I looked at this road and shook my head. I knew that while it appeared flat, it would never remain straight. The journey along that path is bumpy, rugged, and difficult. The thorns on the road pierce the feet until they are covered in blood, and the vines climbing the trees easily entangle the human heart—binding it in pain, binding it until one cannot breathe. I have seen this path of sentient beings clearly now, and I will not step onto it again. All those who struggle along this road still hold onto a sliver of hope, believing that the end of the road is a place of light. But I know better—it is not. The end of that road is a sheer cliff, a deep abyss, a bottomless black hole. Only by waking up from within can one truly break free from it all.

Today, I have chosen to walk a different path. It is a mountain trail, steep and arduous, covered in stones and weeds. Yet, I persist in climbing it, for I believe that as long as I overcome these obstacles, the path ahead will be smooth. The end of this road is not a cliff, but a realm of pure light.

The Purpose of This Lifetime

If I do not cling to the world, where shall I go? I walked into the temple with firm faith to practice, far from the dust of the mundane world. I am a child of Amitabha Buddha; that is the true destination of the heart, the final home of the soul. I realise now that this human body in this lifetime was the result of a vow I made in the past. I wished to be born into a family where I would not be loved by my parents, for only in this way could I see through the false emotions of the world early on. My heart would no longer linger, no longer crave, no longer be deluded. By seeing through it all clearly and letting go of everything, I could use this physical body to save the masses of confused beings, truly fulfilling my wish to return to the Western Pure Land in my next life.

The True Path of Practice

Practitioner Su often says, ‘If a teaching cannot lead me to Awakening, I will not study it.’ In the world today, there are countless people teaching, and an uncountable number of people listening, yet not one person can truly understand the heart or resolve the suffering of others. All Dharma methods are meant to clarify the heart, purify the heart, help one attain Wisdom, and see one’s true nature. But if one’s heart is deluded, filled with false thoughts and sorrow, and one does not know where they are headed, then this study is not true study, and what is learned is not the truth.

To study the Buddha’s teachings is to hold the Precepts in one’s heart, in one’s actions, and in every thought. Practitioner Su truly practices this. She is able to find purity in the midst of turbidity, find meditative concentration in the midst of chaos, and, most importantly, attain Wisdom amidst the various delusions of the world. With the power of great Wisdom and great courage, she performs the work of saving the world. The Dharma Body is not attained in a single day. If one does not guard it daily and practice diligently, how can one attain the fruit of the Dharma Body? People of the world should know that studying the Buddha’s teachings is about adjusting the heart and practicing. Those who follow the teachings will all attain great achievements and, according to the vows they have made, will walk in the world to save all spirits.

The Boundless Compassion of Practitioner Su

In the void, Practitioner Su’s Dharma Body leaps and turns. A single leap is not the distance of a human step, but the breadth of a massive celestial body. Her spiritual deliverance reaches everywhere, beyond the boundless, into the infinite. Countless sentient beings are gathered before her, all moving forward toward the light. They shed the outer garments they have worn for so long—some are animal skins, some are tree bark, some are flower shapes, and many are the bodies of insects. Shedding these forms, they return to human shape and march actively into the light. Ahead lies the place of liberation, where they are truly freed from suffering. How many people can possess such a measure of compassion? As she walks along the path, every flower, every blade of grass, every tree, and even every pebble and every insect smiles to welcome her. They call out to Practitioner Su, they call out to ‘Grandma.’ Seeing this, one witnesses the power of spiritual deliverance. Her heart is one with all things, and her virtue is like the vast, deep ocean, commanding the respect of heaven, earth, and all beings in every Dharma Realm. It is truly awe-inspiring; the people of the world should see this suffering and resolve to learn.

I am grateful for the compassion of Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.

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