This is a record of an interview with Guang Shengze, who sought at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of -Nature. This account reflects upon his life and his long journey through the cycle of rebirth. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on November 8, 2024.
Guang Shengze speaks:
". Before me, the ground is paved with gold. I find it hard to believe that I have truly arrived at the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. The appearance of this place feels like a dream I once had—a memory from so long ago that it had become blurred and distant. Now, seeing the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss right before my eyes, I am filled with such immense .
Today, I am deeply grateful to the Buddha and to Practitioner Su for fulfilling the Causal Conditions that allowed me and fifty-nine other prison guards to reach the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. Since arriving here, my mind has become incredibly clear and bright. Now, I wish to share the story of my life in samsara with everyone, hoping it may serve as a mirror for your own practice.
The Fragility of Ego
Many lifetimes ago, I was a plant growing in a desert oasis. In such a harsh climate, the presence of any plant is precious to those living nearby. Because my fruit was sweet, many people would pick it to eat. When they ate, they would often praise me, saying, 'The fruit is truly delicious; it is so wonderful to have you here.' Because so many people said this, I began to believe that I was truly wonderful.
One day, a young boy ate my fruit and remarked, 'This is terrible. I have never tasted such awful fruit.' I was instantly furious. I simmered with resentment for days, angry that this little boy was so unappreciative. Everyone else said I was wonderful; why was he the only one to say I was not? For days on end, I dwelled on this. My mind was constantly replaying the boy's tone of voice and the image of his face.
Some time later, a woman who was thirsty reached out to pick my fruit. I waited for her praise, but instead, she said, 'This fruit is so astringent; it is not good at all.' I was absolutely shocked. I could not accept this result. I began to doubt myself: Had I really become unpalatable? What was the reason for this change? I pondered this question over and over, my heart filled with such affliction, not knowing the true answer.
From Plant to Sand
As I dwelled on these thoughts, my once vibrant green colour faded, and I grew weaker and weaker. I had changed; I had become unsightly. I knew that my fruit had indeed become unpleasant, and eventually, no one paid any attention to me at all. My heart was filled with sorrow. When my life reached its end, the entire plant drooped, and finally, I ceased to exist.
When my spirit left that oasis plant, I began to drift aimlessly, unable to stop. Before long, I landed in a new place. During the day, it was scorching hot; at night, it was freezing cold. It took me a very long time to struggle and adapt to this environment. I had become a grain of sand in the desert. Because of one sentence, I had become angry; because of one sentence, I had fallen. Such a narrow mind-capacity had turned me into sand.
The Wisdom of the Monk
From a plant to a grain of sand, my heart was full of suffering and resentment. I often wondered when I would ever be able to leave this place. When the strong winds blew, I was tossed from one spot to another. Sometimes, I encountered unfriendly sand spirits, and I could only grit my teeth and endure it. Throughout this process, my heart was always in turmoil, filled with complaints. I did not know how to let go.
Travellers came and went through the desert, each with a different state of mind. Unable to change my current situation, I began to look outward, hoping to understand something. I saw travellers who braved the desert to fulfil their desires. I also encountered monks passing through to spread the Dharma. Each person carried a different purpose, and the magnetic field they radiated was different.
I approached them one by one. I saw that the travellers' minds were filled with dreams of gold, silver, jewels, large houses, or images of themselves feeling satisfied after achieving their goals. The monk, however, had a mind of perfect stillness. What he thought of and what he contemplated was the hope that all beings could be liberated. At that time, I did not yet understand what liberation meant.
The monk was chanting 'Namo Amituofo.' Whenever he chanted, I saw a great golden light appear before me. I was astonished and used my spiritual nature to engage in a dialogue with him. I asked, 'Why do you want to help people? Does this bring you any benefit?' The monk replied, 'I do not need any benefit. I only hope that flowers will no longer be flowers, trees will no longer be trees, and sand will no longer be sand. In truth, the original nature of every person is a Buddha; it is just that everyone has forgotten. I hope to remind everyone to remember. By using this name, Namo Amituofo, one can stop being a flower, a tree, or sand, and see their own clear and bright spirit.'
A Life of Service
After hearing the monk's words, I was deeply moved. I followed him, chanting 'Namo Amituofo' word by word. To my surprise, when I produced a sincere heart, a great force carried me out of my original space. With incredible speed, before I could even react, I entered a white light and attained a human body.
When I grew old enough to understand, I learned that I had been abandoned at birth. I was brought to a temple by a lay practitioner who studied the Buddha-Dharma, so I took his surname and was named Guang Shengze. This lay practitioner was a very devoted volunteer at the temple, whom I called Uncle Guang. He was a cheerful man who helped with repairs. Whenever something in the temple broke, Uncle Guang would be the one to fix it.
Uncle Guang worked with great care and handled everything well. From a young age, I learned from him and from others in the temple. I saw many people come to the temple to prostrate before the Buddha, yet they all had furrowed brows, as if they were begging for something. I asked Uncle Guang, 'Why do some people come to the temple looking so unhappy? Many seem to have so many worries.'
Uncle Guang said, 'Because people are often accustomed to being self-centred. Whenever things do not go their way, or they cannot control a situation, they feel uneasy. Because people care about so many things and cannot let go, they cannot truly smile. They do not know that relationships between people are all based on Causal Conditions; holding on too tightly only brings suffering.'
The Path of the Prison Guard
I asked Uncle Guang, 'How did you come to realise this?' He replied, 'My family all passed away many years ago. That heartache was what awakened me.' From his words, I realised that Uncle Guang had also weathered great storms. Because he had let go, he could now truly smile. Uncle Guang guarded the temple, hoping to follow the Buddha in the future. I am so grateful for the view of life he gave me, which taught me not to be overly attached to anything. When I was twenty-two, Uncle Guang passed away. I am deeply thankful to him for making my life so different.
I had intended to shave my head and become a monk, but I encountered government restrictions on the temple. The people at the temple were forced to leave due to special circumstances, and I, too, was compelled to leave the place I had called home since childhood. I lived a wandering life for a long time. Seeing so many people with restless hearts, I decided to teach everyone what I had learned at the temple, so that they could find peace through faith in the Buddha.
At first, I shared these teachings through simple conversations with a few people. Unexpectedly, it grew larger and larger, leading more people to believe in the Buddha and find peace of mind. However, this way of helping others could not last long. The authorities feared I was building a following to rebel, and I was thrown into prison. Even after entering prison, my heart remained firm and clear, though my body began to deteriorate. After years of tempering my body and mind, I died in prison. Before I died, I felt I had no regrets; at least I had done what I was meant to do.
Gratitude and Deliverance
After my spirit left my body, I was brought before the King of Hell. The King of Hell admired my courage and my firm heart, saying that my imprisonment was a debt I needed to repay in this life. After hearing his words, my heart was completely at peace. After the judgment, the King of Hell gave me the opportunity to serve as a prison guard, for which I felt deeply grateful.
Since taking on the duties of a prison guard, I have been filled with gratitude and have tried my best, hoping to help the beings in the hells. Seeing their suffering has caused me great pain. During my service, I heard Practitioner Su giving Dharma talks and learned that the Buddha had come to this world to help all beings. I was overjoyed and prayed to follow the Buddha.
Today, I am grateful for the Causal Conditions of this Chao Du, which allowed my wish to be fulfilled. I am especially grateful for the great power of Practitioner Su, who is able to save so many beings. I am truly, deeply grateful.
Namo Amituofo.
Guang Shengze, with palms joined.
※ The prison guard Guang Shengze's Uncle Guang was chanting the Buddha's name in space and was invited by Practitioner Su to the Dharma-Nature Land at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre.
