The Tragic Cycle of a Mushroom Spirit

George, a young man who met a tragic end in a farming accident, sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre. This interview, recorded on October 6, 2017, captures his harrowing journey through the cycle of rebirth as a mushroom and his eventual encounter with the compassion of Practitioner Su.

George speaks:

"The fragrance of lotus flowers drifts gently through the room. What immense blessings have led me to this place? Only by being interviewed can one truly be saved. Listen well, as we share our story with you all. To lose a human body is a tragedy, for it is so difficult to regain. I urge you all to cherish your lives in this very moment.

We are the large mushrooms that were brought back from the fruit market by truck yesterday. There was a whole crate of us—the old, the weak, the women, and the children. Oh my! When the grandmother chose us, we were all pushing and shoving, raising our hands and cheering. Although we did not know where we were going, we deeply felt the warm light and pure fragrance emanating from her. We knew for certain that she must be a kind person! My name is George. I am a young man of about twenty years old. The short poem you heard at the beginning was recited by an elderly gentleman from China. He is very learned! The old man is incredibly humble; he wanted to give the opportunity to speak to the younger generation. He said that he is already advanced in age and it does not matter where he goes, but for a young person, life has only just begun. He insisted that it is important for us to strive for a good start. Therefore, he discussed it with everyone and decided to let me, George, have the floor. He told me not to let everyone down and that I must tell you all why we, at such a young age, have collectively become these large mushrooms.

A Childhood in the Dark

I come from a farming family. I have a pair of kind parents. In the early days, growing mushrooms was a laborious task. Mushrooms must grow in a dark, damp environment to become plump and sweet. My father would begin his busy day at three o'clock every morning. There were eight siblings in our family, all close in age. When we were young, our parents worked exceptionally hard. Before dawn, they had to rise early to go to the mushroom sheds to see if there was a harvest to take to the market. The price of mushrooms was quite good, and my father, seeing this, expanded the mushroom sheds as much as he possibly could. However, the number of available workers did not increase, and the heavy burden fell entirely upon my father's shoulders. My mother was born with sensitive skin, so she had to keep her distance from the mushroom sheds. What could be done? Because of this, my father had no choice but to hire outside workers. Since the work hours were not the standard nine-to-five, the wages became double. My father longed for his children to grow up quickly so they could join the production line. Thus, once each of us reached the age of seven, my father would begin to teach us how to grow mushrooms.

Whenever it was a child's turn to work the early morning shift, we would wake up rubbing our sleepy eyes. Before we were even fully awake, we would be called onto the truck to accompany our father to the mushroom sheds. That was manageable, but the most terrifying part was that, for fear of rats or other animals stealing the sweet mushrooms, my father would order us to patrol the sheds from one end to the other. It was wet, dark, and we were responsible for catching these potential thieves. It was truly terrifying!

The Weight of Family Expectations

Days turned into years, and the children grew up one by one. However, not everyone was willing to follow my father's wishes and take over the family business. Although my siblings did not say it explicitly, we all knew in our hearts that we would apply to schools as far away from home as possible. We preferred that even the train fare to return home for holidays would be expensive, so that my father, in order to save money, would always tell us to just stay at school.

Besides growing mushrooms, my parents also raised many cattle and llamas. The workload was beyond description. I was the third child in the family. How could my parents not know the mischievous schemes of their children? They simply turned a blind eye and did not expose us. I was the child least interested in studying. I would rather spend my days with the livestock. I could feel the kindness of the cattle and llamas. Although I hated going to the mushroom sheds, it was a part of the job that could not be avoided.

One day at dinner, I clearly expressed to my father and mother that I was willing to stay and help at home. I deeply understood that someone had to stay behind to take care of my aging parents, the vast mushroom garden, and the livestock business. My parents were overjoyed to hear this; finally, one child was willing to stay and manage the medium-sized mushroom garden and the hundreds of livestock.

The Final Moment of Life

And so, at the age of twenty, I earnestly treated this business as if it were my career as a doctor. I thought about how to expand the business so that my parents would feel that this son had not disappointed them. One evening at dusk, as I walked out of the mushroom shed I had been patrolling, two mischievous black bulls were fighting. I was terrified that the bulls would injure their bodies and not fetch a good price in the future, so I tried to separate them. The bulls were in a frenzy; they did not care whether you were their master or their enemy. One horn pierced my chest, and blood gushed out. There was no one around at the time. I clutched my bleeding wound with both hands and collapsed to the ground. I only remember that as I fell, my eyes saw the blue sky and the clouds, which looked exactly like the large mushrooms in the shed, filling the entire blue sky. It was beautiful. I completely forgot the pain of the wound. When I woke up, I saw myself as a mushroom on a shelf, standing in a dark, damp environment.

Day after day, year after year, I remained a mushroom. My space kept changing. Sometimes I would start as a small mushroom, grow up, be packaged and boxed, sent to the market, purchased by a family, and eaten. As my spirit was excreted with the waste, I simply could not escape the body of a mushroom. I remember when I first died, my spirit entered one of the mushrooms in our family's shed. Even though I saw my father patrolling the shed all day, and I screamed until my throat was raw, 'I am here! I am here!', my father could not hear my cries at all. It was truly helpless. Fortunately, you are here to help make my situation public. I believe this will surely come as a great surprise to everyone. Thank you all!"

Ru Di: "Thank you for sharing your story. That single thought at the end of your life, looking at the clouds in the sky and thinking of mushrooms, caused your spirit to enter the world of mushrooms. This is true; it is not a falsehood. Fortunately, you have come to the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre today. You have the opportunity to escape the mushroom body and regain a human body. My Buddha, Namo Amituofo, is compassionate. Practitioner Su will allow you to first go to the Dharma-Nature Land to listen to the Sutras. After listening to the Sutras and understanding what the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss is, you may then seek rebirth in the Western Pure Land. How many others do you wish to seek deliverance for?"

A Plea for Deliverance

Mushroom George: "I do not understand what 'deliverance' means. But along this journey, I have made many mushroom friends. Is it possible to help them escape the mushroom body and regain a human body as well? I can act as their representative."

Ru Di: "Certainly. May I ask approximately how many there are?"

Mushroom George: "There are many, both large and small mushrooms! Could you please write down '15 large groups'? I have good people skills and have made many friends."

Ru Di: "Very well. If Practitioner Su finds anything inappropriate with the memorial tablets, we can modify them later if necessary."

Interviewed by chief writer Cao Ru Di on October 6, 2017.