The Water Spirit's Journey to Bodhisattva

Li Shaowen, a saint of the Bodhisattva realm within the Four Sacred Realms, sought deliverance through the compassionate guidance of Practitioner Su. Having traversed countless lifetimes of reincarnation—from a simple water spirit to a dedicated practitioner—she eventually attained rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This interview was recorded at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre, where she shares her profound journey of spiritual transformation.

Li Shaowen speaks:

A Tragic Origin: The Water Spirit

"Namo Amituofo. Approximately twelve thousand years ago, the sky was filled with dark clouds. With a thunderous roar, rain began to pour down—large drops and small drops falling instantly from the sky to the earth. If you looked closely, they resembled tiny, adorable faces landing on the planet, complete with eyes, little noses, and little mouths. Among them, one small droplet was particularly unique; I was slightly smaller than the large raindrops but larger than the tiny ones. My name was Didi. We droplets, numbering in the tens of thousands, were clean and clear—so pure that humans could drink us, and so transparent that we served as mirrors. I tasted sweet, and those who drank me felt a sense of joy. We were collectively known as the Water Spirit.

We decided to embark on a monumental exploration together, starting from the highest point in the world. We chose to follow the arrangements of the heavens, sliding down from the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau—the Spine of the World—like a playground slide. Oh my! Because the slope was so steep, I found myself sliding down uncontrollably. Just as I was feeling delighted, thump—I fell into a pond. Strangely, I came to a halt there. I was shocked to discover that this pond had no outlet; the water just swirled around within it. At first, I struggled, trying to squeeze myself out. The water in the pond saw me and said, 'Hey, young lad, your body is so clean!' I looked around and realised that all the water surrounding me was black; only I was clean and transparent. Before long, I noticed my own colour changing, becoming gray and murky. Eventually, I turned completely black, just like the pond water, and I became as sluggish as they were. I stopped moving, letting the others push me around. I became stagnant water in the pond, and gradually, I fell asleep."

The Cycle of Transformation

"I do not know how much time passed. On a clear morning, a massive sound—a thunderclap—woke me up. A heavy rain fell for several days, filling the pond until I was washed out, tumbling over and over. When the rain stopped, I happened to land on the petal of a large red flower. As I stood up, I screamed—I was bleeding! My body had returned to being clean and transparent. I was like a mirror, reflecting the red flower. The flower, startled by my scream, shook violently, and I was flung off, sliding down again. Just then, a bird, thirsty and seeing me sparkling, swallowed me whole. Before I could even cry for help, I was in a dark space. It felt like a chocolate factory—grinding, pressing, fire, and water. I was bundled up with weeds, smelling foul, until I fell out and regained my freedom. I continued forward, following the others, climbing upward! I stopped when I was breathless, then climbed again, feeling colder the higher I went. Unknowingly, my limbs began to stiffen; everything around me was pure white and transparent. I had become a glacier.

I do not know how much time passed until one day, a human brought a large bottle and told his companion, 'Hurry! Collect some holy water to offer to the Buddha.' Just like that, I was scooped into the bottle, swaying back and forth. I began to emit a fragrance again, though it was merely the scent of the sandalwood incense surrounding me. Someone used a ladle to scoop me out, chanting 'Namo Shakyamuni Buddha' while pouring me over the shoulders and neck of a statue of Shakyamuni Buddha. Instantly, I felt completely refreshed and light. I had ended my life as a Water Spirit."

The Mud Bodhisattva

"This spirit slept for an unknown duration. In that space of slumber, it was like dreaming; I saw many carved and clay Buddha statues. Among them, I saw a statue of Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva so lifelike that I stopped there. When I opened my eyes, my spirit was actually inside that statue of Avalokiteshvara. Many devotees built a canopy for me, tied red cloth, and offered three types of meat, wine, chicken, duck, pork, and eggs. They lit bundles of incense before me and whispered many wishes, begging me to help them. At first, I thought I truly was Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. When I helped the devotees, I could summon other spirits—so-called little ghosts—to assist, simply because I could share the offerings with them. I saw the statue of Avalokiteshvara, so dignified. I was very busy every day: Grandmother Zhang wanted me to protect her new grandson; Mother Li wanted me to find her missing hen; Ah Shan from the Wu family wanted me to help him win at gambling. There were countless trivial matters—marriages, births, house renovations, fishing trips... all came to beg me. My incense offerings were abundant, and I fulfilled their wishes. Those with enough blessings gained wealth quickly—it was fated, after all. But these devotees were interesting; they sought peace of mind and unexpected fortune. Inside that statue, my spirit seemed to function quite well.

Unexpectedly, one day, a monk arrived. He struck the ground three times with his staff—bang, bang, bang—and said to me, 'The true Avalokiteshvara is not in the statue; the false one hides within. What does a thousand years matter? In the end, you must undergo reincarnation.' Every word he spoke seemed to shake me, shattering my delusions. I had an 'Aha!' moment. Why was my world gray and dark? It was as the monk said: I was a fake Avalokiteshvara. I decided to leave the statue to seek the Truth. After arranging everything, my spirit left the statue. I had the spirit-medium issue a divination poem to pass on a message: 'Why toil in the dust of the world, seeking millions in gold? Day and night, there is only worry; reincarnation has no end. Now I encounter the Buddha's teachings and the true words; I abandon the worldly to become a Buddha.'"

The Search for Truth

"I left everything behind. My spirit began to search for the Truth. Since the monk had spoken to me, I looked for him to seek further guidance. I passed a river and asked the River God, 'Have you seen that monk?' The River God replied in a low voice, 'Five or six monks have passed by here; I cannot tell you which one. But one is practising alone in a cave on the mountain next door. Would you like to find him?' I thanked the River God and quickly climbed the mountain. As I searched for the cave, I suddenly heard a voice from within: 'Come in!' I hesitated, and the voice spoke again: 'Do not doubt; just come in.' When my spirit entered, I saw the monk and a Buddha statue. As I scanned the surroundings, the monk said, 'You have finally arrived! That means you have the heart to practise and are no longer a mud Bodhisattva to be worshipped.' I thought to myself: If I do not achieve success, how long will I remain a mud Bodhisattva? It seemed endless. I asked the monk, 'Who are you to see through me so clearly and know I am a mud Bodhisattva?' I told him, 'I am not a mud Bodhisattva; I am Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva.' The monk replied, 'A slip of the tongue. You are called a mud Bodhisattva because your spirit resides in that statue made of mud. If you were a true Bodhisattva, your appearance would be dignified! You may look dignified, but you have no light; your face is dull. How can you compare to the true Avalokiteshvara?'

I begged the monk to tell me how to find the Truth. He shook his head vigorously: 'Impossible, impossible! You are currently just a spirit.' I replied, 'What is wrong with being a spirit? Everyone has a spirit. I am a highly sensitive and aware spirit; I can do many things and help people.' The monk said, 'Only because we have a physical body are we called humans, and only humans can practise to become Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva. Without a human body, you cannot achieve it; unless you first reincarnate as a human and practise diligently, you have no way to attain it.' I felt a bit sad. I left the cave and asked myself: Is the Truth so hard to find? Must I really become a human? I wondered if I could borrow someone else's body. I decided not to harm any innocent humans. Just then, I saw a five-coloured bird, so I borrowed the body of a female five-coloured bird."

Rebirth as Qingyu

"When my spirit entered the bird, the body was so small! The beak was sharp, and the internal organs were tiny. At first, I was unaccustomed to it. I saw the bird's mate; they flew together, deeply attached, showing off beautiful feathers to attract each other. We built a nest, laid eggs, and the chicks hatched—so adorable! Two years later, the father bird died after accidentally hitting a branch while foraging. The grieving mother bird lived in sorrow every day. One day, flying to a treetop, she saw a rainbow in the clouds and flew toward it. She met a human who shouted, 'Hey! The rainbow brought a five-coloured bird, how beautiful!' He threw a stone, hitting the bird's head. The bird fell to the ground, dying. Suddenly, a large hand picked up the bird, chanting 'Namo Amituofo'. With her last breath, the bird looked at the man—it was that monk. The monk said to the bird, 'Mud Bodhisattva turned bird, now I let you become human. Namo Amituofo.'

At dawn, the young mistress of the Wang family in the East Village gave birth to a son. He cried a few times and then stopped. This little baby didn't like to cry; he liked to smile. I was named 'Qingyu'. The maid and the wet nurse took meticulous care of me. The Wang family was a family of Goodness in the East Village, fond of Generosity, helping others, and often making offerings to the monks at the temple. When the Wang family's rice harvest was ready, they held a great day of Generosity, offering one hundred bags of rice to the temple and giving rice to the poor in the village. The villagers were very grateful to the Wang family."

The Path of Practice

"Time passed quickly. Under everyone's care, I gradually became a well-read, kind-hearted young master, often following my parents to the temple. Since the Wang family was a protector of the temple, I was always welcomed. I often saw a mysterious pavilion with a door that was usually closed, labeled 'Scripture Repository'. I asked the abbot, 'May I visit the Scripture Repository?' The abbot led me inside. I read many scriptures and couldn't put them down. From then on, I often went to the temple, sometimes listening to the abbot's Dharma talks, sometimes sitting in meditation. Thus, influenced by the temple environment, I developed faith in monastic practice.

At fifteen, I bid farewell to my parents and decided to become a monk, carrying my small bundle up the mountain to find my master. I felt the spirits attached to me jumping incessantly, as if urging me to walk faster. When I arrived, I was pale. The abbot asked, 'Qingyu, what is wrong?' I described the process to him. The master said, 'This is a good thing. They are karmic creditors connected to you; knowing you are becoming a monk, they are manifesting to remind you to practise diligently.' I felt relieved. I asked the master to explain what karmic creditors were. The master said, 'We may have ignorantly harmed others in past lives. They remember the pain and cannot forgive, following us until we return justice to them. Only when they see your sincere repenting will they resolve the conflict.'

I felt deep remorse and vowed to practise diligently to save all connected spirits. I recalled the master saying, 'Human life is precious because we have this body to practise and save beings. If one becomes a wandering soul, the spirit can only drift in space or wait to encounter someone who chants the Buddha's name or takes refuge to be liberated. You must grasp this lifetime.' My sincere vow allowed my karmic creditors to let go of their resentment and practise with me. I entered the path of practice at a young age and never slacked. I completed all the tasks the master assigned. Especially the sitting meditation—it was agonizing. When I sat on the cushion, my whole body hurt, especially my lower body. I remembered the saying, 'When Heaven is about to place a great responsibility on a person, it first exhausts their heart and mind, labours their muscles and bones...' As I had this thought, my body reacted, and I began to feel warm. Every time I saw my fellow practitioners sitting for hours, while I felt the spirits on my legs causing swelling, the master told me, 'Practice inevitably involves tests; your heart must be firm. This pain shows the harm you caused them in the past. If you can endure it, repent, and continue, you will break through. If not, keep your mind on the name of Namo Amituofo.' I followed his method. For the first seven days, it was difficult, but whenever the pain became unbearable, I recalled my initial vow and the image of my pale face upon entering the temple. I sat again, and this time, I could sit for two hours! My fellow practitioners were amazed at my endurance, not knowing that although I was young, my soul was ancient."

The Danger of Space

"I knew I had to practise well to be worthy of the beings following me. After a month, I could sit for four hours. One day, during a session with over a hundred practitioners, I suddenly made a sound. Because the cushion was high, I fell with a loud thump. I felt intense pain but dared not scream, fearing I would disturb the others. A fellow practitioner helped me leave the meditation hall. The next day, my legs were swollen. The abbot asked, 'How are you so skilled that you can fall while meditating?' I said pitifully, 'I am skilled; I sat for three hours. But as I entered the fourth hour, I felt completely comfortable, and my body leaned forward. I saw beautiful scenery like a fairyland, as if I were meditating in a cave with a cool breeze. I leaned forward and fell. How was I to know it would hurt so much?' The master laughed heartily: 'Beginners do not understand; you cannot be attached. You cannot enter the realms you like. Once you enter, you have entered a space, and things happen. Most of the time, you are just drowsy, interfered with by your own karmic creditors.' I realised I had much to learn. If this happened outside, entering a space unknowingly is a very dangerous phenomenon. The master taught me: 'When sitting, follow your breathing. The simplest method is counting breaths—count the breaths you exhale, one, two, three, four... up to ten, then start over.' I practised this diligently and realised that between every inhalation and exhalation, there are many thoughts. The master said, 'Those who want to have true attainment, once they enter samadhi, all time and space pause instantly.'"

The Path to the Four Sacred Realms

"At twenty, I entered the meditation hall feeling refreshed. I sat, exhaled the foul air, and began counting breaths. I felt my awareness gently resting on the breath. Suddenly, the practitioner struck the chime; an hour had passed. I realised that time and space had paused. I had progressed from counting breaths to observing breaths. By observing the breath, I could elevate my awareness. If I could clearly understand where my thoughts were resting, that was also a form of training. The master told me to cultivate more blessings because worldly habits were too heavy. I spent a year doing chores—chopping wood, cleaning, gardening, cooking—hardly entering the meditation hall, practising only in my room. Then, the master told me to participate in the three-month summer retreat. Because it rained often, to avoid harming any living creatures, we stayed inside the temple to practise diligently.

At thirty, I could enter samadhi. I followed the master's instructions strictly, fearing that one mistake would lead to demonic interference. I tasted the flavour of Zen—Zen joy as food—and my body felt completely comfortable. Meditation became my daily fixed task, and the duration grew longer. The master told me to purify my heart further, to see everything clearly, including the causes and effects of my past lives. One day, in samadhi, I saw that my current master had been my father in a past life, who had abandoned his wife and child to practise. In this life, I had found him. The next day, we met, and we smiled at each other. The master said, 'Human life is hard to obtain; grasp it well!' I wanted to ask, but he said, 'Find the answers yourself!' I decided to grasp the present. After clarifying my relationship with the master, I became even more still and settled. My meditation time increased to six hours. Every session left me refreshed, without any delusions, and my spirit could even leave my body.

At thirty-five, I entered the Sound-Hearer realm of the Four Sacred Realms. I saw everyone in their own heavenly palaces, so peaceful. My spirit left my body and did not return; I became a Sound-Hearer of the Four Sacred Realms. Once, when I came out of samadhi, a golden light shone on me, and a voice said: 'Your mind-capacity is too small; you should go save beings, or reincarnate again!'"

The Life of Li Shaowen

"A large mansion sat in Beijing. A wealthy man had four sons and longed for a daughter. He had three wives, each more beautiful than the last. One morning, the wealthy man's wish was fulfilled; his fourth wife, whom he had married while doing business in China, gave birth to a beautiful daughter. She was named Li Shaowen. From the age of four, she showed wisdom, looking through people's hearts. When her father was sad, she cheered him up; when her mother was tired, she massaged her back. Shaowen loved tranquility and often visited a temple in the mountains of Sichuan. There was a large bell there. She would stand by the bell and cry. When asked why, she said, 'So many poor people are naked underground, begging for help, and no one listens.' She asked her mother to strike the bell. Her mother learned the Bell-Striking Gatha: 'Hear the bell sound, afflictions lighten, wisdom grows, Bodhi arises, leave the hells, exit the fire pit...' Her mother realised Shaowen had the eye to see the suffering of hell beings and had a compassionate heart. She knew Shaowen would walk the path of practice, but she was her father's pride and joy, so she kept it a secret.

When her father turned fifty, he held a grand celebration in Beijing. He saw that Shaowen's face was spiritual and her smile was as gentle as Avalokiteshvara's. After the celebration, her father returned to India. Two months later, news came: her father had been framed by a corrupt merchant, his property confiscated, and he had died suddenly. Shaowen and her mother went to India to find the family. They found them living under a dried-up riverbed, like beggars. Shaowen gave them money and invited them to China, but they couldn't leave yet. She and her mother visited her father's grave—just a pile of dirt and a stone tablet. This strengthened her resolve to practise, as she saw the impermanence of worldly life. Back in China, they moved to the temple. Shaowen served as a volunteer, doing chores and listening to the Dharma. When the abbot asked her to leave because she was a beautiful woman and might distract the monks, she said, 'I only want to serve the public and learn the Truth. I will cover my face, leaving only my eyes visible.' The abbot, moved by her determination, agreed."

Healing the Plague

"Shaowen studied herbal medicine to help the monks. For three years, she tasted hundreds of herbs, learning their properties. She treated 161 monks for colds, 58 for cold limbs, and others for various ailments. She succeeded. Years later, her brother came to her: the official who had framed their father was dying and sought her help. She dreamt of Avalokiteshvara, who told her to chant the Buddha's name while preparing the medicine. She healed the official, who then cleared her father's name. She realised that by holding a compassionate heart and chanting Namo Amituofo, she didn't even need herbs—the Buddha's blessing was enough. When her mother passed away, she emitted a fragrance and died with a smile. Shaowen requested to close-door retreat for a year. Ten months later, a fragrance emanated from her hut. Then, a plague broke out in Beijing. Her brothers begged for her help. She went to Beijing, set up a treatment room with an image of Avalokiteshvara, and treated the sick by helping them repent before the Buddha and applying herbal poultices. She healed many and taught them to be vegetarian. After six months, the plague ended. She returned to the temple and requested to be the first female disciple to practise as a lay practitioner. The abbot agreed. Three days later, she entered deep samadhi, completed her task, saw golden light and Avalokiteshvara, and instantly became an Avalokiteshvara of the Bodhisattva realm."

Deliverance to the Western Pure Land

"Once, I heard Practitioner Su say: 'Twenty-eight heavens, Four Sacred Realms, open up space!' In the Bodhisattva realm, I listened to Practitioner Su's Dharma talk: 'Give rise to all roots of goodness and achieve the fruit of Bodhi.' I admired Practitioner Su's compassion in saving immeasurable suffering beings. I learned from his spirit of saving beings and made this vow. Through the Buddha's guidance and Practitioner Su's guidance, when Practitioner Su began the Thrice Yearning Ceremonies to deliver celestial beings and led immeasurable spirits to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, I saw the Buddha-light and golden light, just as I had seen at the end of my life. I focused on chanting the Buddha's name with Practitioner Su. Following his guidance, I was reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. I am grateful to the Buddha, and I am grateful to Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo."

Recorded by the disciple Shi Hailiang.