This is a record of an interview with Zhen Xiu, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Pure Land. This account reflects upon his life approximately 230 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on July 30, 2019.
Zhen Xiu speaks:
". I am Zhen Xiu. My mother, desperate to conceive a child, exhausted every possible method to see her wish fulfilled. She once asked my father, 'Have you ever heard that if one obtains a dragon pearl, they can give birth to a dragon child?' My father replied with a bitter smile, 'I am but a common man, not an emperor. How could you possibly give birth to a dragon child? Besides, where would we even find such a thing? I have lived for over forty years, and I have never seen a dragon—only plenty of insects on the ground.' Seeing the intensity in her eyes and fearing that her obsession with having a child would drive her to illness, he went to knock on my grandparents' door to seek their intervention.
My grandmother opened the door and asked what he wanted. My father explained, 'My wife is consumed by the desire for a child; she dreams of it day and night, and it is all she can think about. She has started saying strange things today, and I am worried she will lose her mind. Could you please stop pressuring her?' My grandmother retorted, 'Fine, fine! If you cannot have children, then stop being my daughter-in-law!' She slammed the door shut with such force that the gust of wind stirred my father's hair. Standing before the closed door, he sighed, wondering why his mother was so insistent on the need for an heir. My grandmother held to the traditional belief that a daughter-in-law's primary duty was to bear children for the family line, and if she could not fulfil this simple task, she was of no use. My mother heard every word, yet her womb remained silent, unresponsive to her deepest longings.
The Search for the Miraculous Temple
One day, my mother heard from a friend that the Avalokiteshvara had manifested spiritually. 'Yesterday, above the lotus pond, a true lotus appeared, as large as a carriage wheel and radiating brilliant light. Many people witnessed it and knelt to pray for the Bodhisattva's protection. If you go there to pray for a child, perhaps the Bodhisattva will respond.' Undeterred by the hardship, my mother prepared to set off immediately. Seeing her urgency, my father worried for her safety, so he set aside his work to accompany her to the temple. After three days of travelling, they could not find the location. There were no passersby to ask, yet my mother insisted on continuing. My father, seeing nothing but empty wilderness ahead, asked if they should give up, but she was resolute: she would not return home until she found it.
Driven by her unwavering faith, they walked for another three days until a temple finally appeared. My mother was overjoyed, shouting, 'Look! The temple is right there!' My father wiped the sweat from his face, relieved, and said, 'We finally found it!' Their exhaustion vanished, replaced by a surge of energy. They hurried into the temple, only to find no towering statue of Avalokiteshvara and no miraculous lotus in the pond. It was not the temple her friend had described. Just as my mother turned to leave, my father grabbed her hand and said, 'Sincerity is what matters; it is the same regardless of which temple we are in.' My mother listened and knelt before the main hall to pray, though she did not know which Buddha she was addressing. She simply kowtowed continuously, begging for and blessing. A monk approached them and said, 'This is the Teaching Master of the Western Pure Land, Namo Amituofo. The Buddha can fulfil the wishes of all beings, but it requires the beings to make a vow and practise sincerely.' My mother immediately vowed before the Buddha, 'If I can be blessed with a child, I will certainly ensure that this child learns the Buddha's teachings.' Though she did not understand the , she knew that learning from the Buddha was a virtuous path, and she was more than willing to dedicate her future child to it.
A Life Born of Vows
Months after leaving the temple, my mother was pregnant. My father was overjoyed and accompanied her back to the temple to express their gratitude, preparing a small string of prayer beads to place on the child the moment I was born. I was that child. When my mother was praying for help, my intermediate spirit had not yet entered her womb. While I was waiting in the space between realms, a golden light drew me into a vortex. The suction was incredibly powerful, and I could only spin along with it. After some time, I took on a physical form and began to grow day by day in my mother's womb. During those ten months, I often heard my mother chanting the Buddha-name. She taught me to chant as well; although I could not yet speak, I would respond by kicking or vibrating within her womb, letting her know that I, too, was learning to chant Namo Amituofo.
When I was born, the whole family welcomed me with . Although I had never seen my mother's face, I knew who she was by her familiar scent and the feeling of her presence—a natural bond that could never be replaced. I was intimately familiar with the six-character name; my mother often chanted it to lull me to sleep, and she frequently carried me on her back to the temple to pay respects to the Buddha. However, she had to do all of this in secret, as my grandparents forbade her from teaching me the Dharma, fearing that I would become a monk and fail to carry on the family line.
The Burden of Illness and the Power of the Buddha-name
I was born with a chronic illness that prevented me from playing like other children; if I were not careful, I would simply lose . Even after being examined by many doctors, no one could diagnose my condition. My grandparents tried to nourish me with tonics, but I could not consume the meat-based ingredients; the mere smell of meat made me vomit. They had to replace these with other foods to sustain me. In truth, I knew that whenever I chanted Namo Amituofo, my body felt more comfortable. If I did not chant, my body felt as if it were being pierced by thousands of insects. I did not know why this was, but perhaps I was truly born to learn the Buddha's teachings.
Though I was too young to read, I loved listening to my mother tell stories. To educate me in the Dharma, she read many Buddhist scriptures and recited one story to me every night. Each story held a profound meaning, and sometimes, in a single moment, they would clarify things I did not understand. I learned from the protagonists of these tales to maintain good thoughts at all times, regardless of whether I was in a muddy environment or a pure land, keeping my heart pure and virtuous.
Lessons from the Abyss
I would not claim to be an expert in chanting, but I never forgot to do so. On several occasions, the Buddha saved my life. When I was six, I suddenly fell into a deep sleep and could not be woken, no matter how my parents called to me. I was trapped in a dream from which I could not escape. In the dream, I was running forward with a crowd of people. I did not know where they were going, but I followed them. Each person who reached the end of the path fell into an abyss, as they were all blindly following the person in front, unaware that the path ended in a bottomless chasm. Just as I was about to fall, I suddenly remembered the name 'Namo Amituofo'. The moment I shouted it aloud, a golden light descended from the sky. Everyone who was about to fall was illuminated by this light; we all suddenly woke up, stopped in our tracks, and began to chant the name of Namo Amituofo together. I woke up then, knowing that my life had been saved by the Buddha.
Another time, my parents were teaching me to ride a horse. The horse, usually docile, suddenly went out of control like a wild beast after only a few steps. I gripped the reins tightly, but the horse charged forward violently. When I was at my wit's end, I remembered the Buddha-name and shouted it out. The power of the name instantly stopped the runaway horse. It threw me to the ground, and although I had some scrapes and bruises, I was unharmed. These experiences were not mere coincidences; they repeatedly strengthened my faith and increased my power to believe in the Buddha.
The Path of True Change
Although my grandparents tried to stop me, I secretly used the Dharma to help others, especially by introducing them to the name of Namo Amituofo. I shared the joy of my practice with those around me, knowing that the Dharma holds endless treasures waiting to be discovered. Obtaining these treasures is not difficult; one only needs to maintain a pure and virtuous heart and learn the Buddha's conduct to benefit from the teachings.
When I was seven, I secretly stopped taking the medicine I was prescribed daily. My heart was firm: if I truly practised the Buddha's teachings, the Buddha could heal my illness, and I did not need to continue damaging my body with these drugs. My parents were unaware of my decision. For several days, I did not take the medicine, and when my illness flared up severely, I told myself, 'I have not changed enough.' I believed deeply that there must be something within me that needed adjustment for the illness to manifest. Therefore, I worked even harder to change myself. Whenever my ego or temper arose, I used my greatest effort to subdue my heart. Yet, changing oneself is truly not an easy task. It is a feeling difficult to describe; sometimes this heart feels like my own, and other times it feels like someone else's. I would maintain a belief in pure goodness, only for an evil thought to suddenly manifest. If I did not use my awareness to stop it immediately, I would let such thoughts grow. By the time I noticed, I might have already created sins invisibly, and my sick body would be the first to suffer. I would have to endure the illness once more. If I repented and chanted at that moment, I could stop the condition from worsening. If I did not yet know how to change my ways, I would only continue to suffer. This unique experience made me profoundly realise that these physical illnesses could never be controlled by medicine alone. Only by genuinely changing myself, until I reached a state of pure goodness without evil, could my physical health truly improve."
"As for whether there are any special techniques for chanting Namo Amituofo? This is a point I have been constantly pondering, because it is difficult to chant without interruption. It is so easy to be derailed by one's own delusions and messy thoughts. If I do not stop these stray thoughts immediately, a long time passes before I remember to return to this magnificent Buddha-name. Through a long period of learning, I have come to a profound realisation: only when there is no 'self' can one truly hold onto the Buddha-name without letting go. However, reaching that state of 'no self' requires a great deal of effort and study. I have followed the Buddha's teachings, and I have followed them with complete devotion. Although obvious changes did not appear in a day or two, I possessed a sense of persistence and perseverance. I was willing to use time to wait, knowing that only through constant trial can one continue to grow amidst setbacks.
The Price of Devotion
When my grandparents learned from others that I was constantly introducing the Buddha's teachings to people, they were furious. Beyond my mother being scolded by them, I was locked out of the house for an entire night. They used this to admonish me: 'A child who does not listen must be punished.' I wanted to listen to my grandparents, but I also wanted to learn the Buddha's teachings. I knew that learning the Buddha's teachings was not a bad thing; I had truly changed because of it. Even my illnesses had shown significant improvement because of chanting Namo Amituofo. But my grandparents would not listen to any of this. They believed that because my mother had studied the Buddha's teachings while she was pregnant with me, it had caused me to be born with a strange illness. I did not want my grandparents to continue misinterpreting the Buddha's teachings. To prevent them from continuing to create negative through their speech, I obediently knelt outside our home. In the freezing weather, my whole body felt as if I were about to faint. My knees were in such pain that they had lost all sensation, as if they were no longer my own legs. Even then, my heart continued to chant Namo Amituofo without pause. I knew this was what I was meant to do in this life: believe in the Buddha and chant Namo Amituofo. No matter how many people opposed my practice, I would persist. It was not that I was being stubborn or rebelling against my elders; it was simply that I knew only the Buddha's teachings could help everyone achieve liberation.
A Miracle of Faith
After several discussions, my grandparents finally told me that if I could produce a child to carry on the family line, they would allow me to leave home and practice as a monastic. This condition left me somewhat stunned, as I did not know where to find a girl to marry and have a child with, only to then tell her I was leaving to become a monk. I did try to fulfill this condition for a time, but in the end, there was no result because I truly could not bring myself to do such a thing. Unable to meet their demands, I had no choice but to seek the Buddha's blessing. I begged the Buddha to help me, to allow me to fulfill my wish to leave home and study the Dharma. Only by walking the path of a monastic could I focus more deeply on the Buddha's teachings and use the identity of a bhikshu to deliver sentient beings.
The Buddha truly blessed me. On the day my illness flared up again, I was so weak that I could not stand; it felt as if my entire body was being crushed under a heavy weight. Several times I was on the verge of taking my last breath, and no matter which famous doctor my family brought to see me, none could stop the progression of the illness. My grandparents watched in desperation, pacing back and forth. Finally, I chanted Namo Amituofo incessantly, letting my grandparents know that when I chanted, the Buddha was blessing me, and that my body would surely recover. My grandparents waited to see just how powerful the Buddha's teachings could be, that they could actually restore a person's health. At that moment, my heart was incredibly sincere. I told my : 'If you will not let me go, I will chant Namo Amituofo and be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. If you are still willing to give me a chance to help sentient beings, then let this illness stop at this critical moment. As long as my grandparents are convinced of the inconceivable power of the Buddha's teachings, I will have the opportunity to leave home and practice.' My heart held no hypocrisy; every word I spoke was sincere and honest. My karmic creditors seemed to feel my sincerity, and the Buddha blessed me, combined with my own diligent chanting—I believed in myself and I believed in the Buddha. In the end, a miracle truly occurred. I, who had been on the brink of death, began to regain energy. The illness suddenly subsided, and the suffering in my body was halted. My grandparents could not believe their eyes; they had no choice but to believe that the Buddha truly existed and was right beside us.
The Path to Deliverance
After this event, I finally gained everyone's approval to leave home and study the Buddha's teachings. I seized this Causal Condition and entered the temple to practice at the age of fourteen. I could not enter the monastic life with a diseased body, so I practiced diligently until my illness was completely cured. Only then could I be ordained as a monk, serving as the best possible example in the human world to deliver sentient beings. Throughout this process, I worked extremely hard to overcome various obstacles. Even on the coldest winter nights, no matter how uncomfortable my body felt, I insisted on rising early to chant Namo Amituofo. Under my persistence, there was no such thing as 'rest time' in my practice. As long as it was within my capabilities, I pushed my limits, utilizing my body to its fullest potential and not wasting a single moment on laziness. After five years of effort, I finally broke through the suffering of and the suffering of illness, fulfilling my Ultimate Vow to leave home.
The time one spends in this world is but a few short decades. In this brief span, how much I can contribute to this world depends entirely on the capacity of my heart and my compassion. I have worked hard to purify myself, wanting to let this body exert its maximum potential to help sentient beings. No matter how much time it takes, I am willing to give it, because there is nothing in this world more worth doing than helping sentient beings. I have not wasted my life coming to this world. Although I have not achieved perfection, I have no regrets in my heart. I am grateful to Amitabha Buddha for leading me to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, and I am grateful for the Buddha's compassion.
The Truth of the World
In this world of the five turbidities, all kinds of evil manifestations exist. Although people in the world have become accustomed to them, they do not know that every evil act they commit has already created sins that are difficult to repay. This does not just refer to killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, or lying; even gossiping among friends or enjoying the spread of rumors—which seem trivial—actually results in suffering in the hell realms. This is because there is evil in the human heart, which causes turmoil in the world; this is truly not how things should be. Without the teachings of the Buddha, no one would understand the laws of karma and cause and effect.
Practitioner Su's teaching is thorough and clear. No matter what level of society one comes from, one can clearly understand the ultimate meaning. It is all for the hope of using this method to deliver sentient beings. If one were to discuss deep and vast sutras, it would be too far removed from this world, like scratching an itch through a boot—there is no pain and no feeling. Therefore, Practitioner Su's teaching is with surgical precision, straightforward and transparent, allowing one to easily benefit from it.
Practitioner Su's travels to the Western Land with ease, seeing this world as entirely illusory. Coming to this world now serves only the purpose of spreading the Dharma and saving the world; there is no need to be entangled in other worldly affairs. Practitioner Su's Dharma Body delivers countless spirits every day, and this power of is unmatched. If there can be successors to carry this on, only then will the suffering of beings in the Saha world have a chance to be resolved. I encourage everyone to work together. Grateful for Practitioner Su's compassion. Namo Amituofo."
This interview was recorded by the chief writer, disciple Shi Fajing.
