Search
English
Title
  • English
  • 正體中文
  • 简体中文
  • Deutsch
  • Español
  • Français
  • Magyar
  • 日本語
  • 한국어
  • Монгол хэл
  • Âu Lạc
  • български
  • bahasa Melayu
  • فارسی
  • Português
  • Română
  • Bahasa Indonesia
  • ไทย
  • العربية
  • čeština
  • ਪੰਜਾਬੀ
  • русский
  • తెలుగు లిపి
  • हिन्दी
  • polski
  • italiano
  • Wikang Tagalog
  • Українська Мова
  • Others
  • English
  • 正體中文
  • 简体中文
  • Deutsch
  • Español
  • Français
  • Magyar
  • 日本語
  • 한국어
  • Монгол хэл
  • Âu Lạc
  • български
  • bahasa Melayu
  • فارسی
  • Português
  • Română
  • Bahasa Indonesia
  • ไทย
  • العربية
  • čeština
  • ਪੰਜਾਬੀ
  • русский
  • తెలుగు లిపి
  • हिन्दी
  • polski
  • italiano
  • Wikang Tagalog
  • Українська Мова
  • Others
Title
Transcript
Up Next
 

Our Merits and Love Can Change and Elevate Others, Part 1 of 7, Dec. 9, 2018, Hsihu, Taiwan (Formosa)

2023-10-08
Lecture Language:Taiwanese Hokkien (台灣話),Mandarin Chinese (中文)
Details
Download Docx
Read More

You see, those monks are truly sincere in their practice. So, every winter, we try to send some money for them to buy blankets and other things… at least to help them keep warm. Of course, we can never give enough; it’s never enough. It would be best to take them all home and provide for them. But they wouldn’t like our way of life. They’d rather stay poor like that but free from attachment. Understand? They can rest and meditate whenever they want to. They can leave at any time as well – no luggage.

Is it OK? Are you the same people? Every Sunday? No? (Not the same.) You’ve been changing? I can’t see anyone. Not here? Is that so? Less people, right? No way? Can you hear me? OK. Hallo, everyone. (Hallo, Master.) Kitchen? (Yes.) What’s delicious today? (We have very delicious…) All I see is bread. (Hallo, Master.) (I love You.) Love you, too. (I love You, too.) Âu Lạc (Vietnam), huh? (You look so pretty with glasses.) No, I just... I’m not wearing them to look pretty. My eyes are sensitive. Sensitive, so I shield them from the wind. Glasses don’t really make me look pretty, do they? (They do.) (Very pretty.) Can you see? (Yes, we can.) (Pretty.) (Look knowledgeable.) Did you hear that? (Yes.) She said I look knowledgeable with glasses. That means I didn’t look knowledgeable without glasses. (Super knowledgeable.) (More knowledgeable.) (More knowledgeable.) Shielding from the wind.

(Master, I love You.) Thank you. How’s the retreat? (Good.) Have you been meditating well? (Yes.) (Hallo, Master.) Good meditations? (Yes.) (Very good.) (Hallo, Master.) You’re OK with the cold? (Yes.) (Hallo, Master.) It’s much warmer than the Himalayas. I know; I’m not complaining. (No.) The snow in the Himalayas is deep. The atmosphere is cold. The air is cold. It’s not convenient to cook. For the Taiwanese (Formosan) people who love to eat so much, I’m afraid you might not know how to live in the Himalayas. Higher up in the Himalayas, there’s no water or electricity. But you can cook with snow. You get the snow and boil it. It’s the cleanest, really pure. Snow is the cleanest, but you need firewood.

The hermits usually stay at the place where the Master lives. They have a huge piece of wood that they happened to find somewhere. It’s already dry, very big – a whole piece. They don’t even have an axe or a hatchet that they can use to chop the wood into neat pieces as we do in the city. It’s huge, as large as possible. I don’t know how they do it; somehow, they light it. Anyway, the fire must not go out. They keep it burning 24 hours a day; otherwise, it can’t be restarted. Then, with a big fire like that, you can only cook a little bit of food. And it’s very simple, nothing fancy. Here, we sometimes say, “There’s nothing but bread.” Over there, you can’t even see bread.

Maybe there’s a bit of rice – dry rice or some kind of mung beans, dry. Other things are just as basic: rice and what’s it called? Rice, salt, and mung beans or beans for protein. Protein. And that’s it. The basics are rice, salt and mung beans or something like red beans. Normally, they prefer mung beans, cooked dry mung beans and some – what’s it called… Soup. The same, soup. Then they pour it over the rice balls and eat it that way. Could you Taiwanese (Formosan) and Chinese live like that? Yes or no? Be honest. (Yes.) Yes? Really? Then you should go soon! Our life here is too luxurious.

Even though we are not allowed to build anything here, we still have these canopies. They’re very stable and good enough. There are some monks in the Himalayas… What do you call that? To… to go on what? So far, they’ve been taking photos of my back only. When people go on a pilgrimage, do they go to worship and pay homage? They visit famous sites where spiritual practitioners have lived. They used to live there, or they still do. Some of them are still alive. People go there to show their respect, similar to what they sometimes do in Taiwan (Formosa), kneeling and bowing very low after every step or every three steps. You probably can’t do that over there, not even once. Understand? You’d get wet because there is snow everywhere. It would be hard to kneel and bow low. You’d have to watch your step. For safety reasons, you wouldn’t kneel and bow. If you did, you might fall down. Over there, it’s not that safe for walking everywhere.

And… during the pilgrimage period, for example, some monks would sit by the road, which is only this wide. In the high mountains, the roads are narrow. They would be there, and people would give them some money or something – just a little. I don’t think they got much. There was a monk, I saw worms and something black in his rice. It was not like what we got from the market, which was white, clean, and neatly packed. No, it wasn’t. Some of his rice grains weren’t edible. He had to pick them out one by one, and I was watching that. I had climbed up a little higher. That was why I saw those things. So I said to him, “You’re not doing too well with that rice.” It wasn’t pure rice; there was something else in it. He said, “I don’t… I can’t afford anything better.” Understand?

I also didn’t have much money then. I had a very small amount. I could only buy what I needed each day. I couldn’t keep spending. My daily budget was about five or ten rupees, for example. That’s Indian money. It’s too little to convert to Taiwanese (Formosan) currency. I can’t calculate it. Well,… the smallest coin here is the “cent,” isn’t it? One cent, two cents, right? And there’s also the “dime.” (No. One dime, two dimes.) (We also have dimes.) Dimes? (One dime, two dimes.) Cents? Five Indian rupees are worth less than one cent here. Roughly, just roughly. About five in a cent. That was all, but it was enough to buy food. In many countries, we don’t need that much money to survive, truly like that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made it this far. If I were to try living like that in Taiwan (Formosa), I would soon be penniless. Because I moved around a lot, I couldn’t carry things like an umbrella. I used to have an umbrella. When I first arrived, I had an umbrella and a bag to put my stuff in. Later, I sold almost everything because too much stuff made climbing difficult. Climbing alone isn’t easy.

You see, those monks are truly sincere in their practice. So, every winter, we try to send some money for them to buy blankets and other things… at least to help them keep warm. Of course, we can never give enough; it’s never enough. It would be best to take them all home and provide for them. But they wouldn’t like our way of life. They’d rather stay poor like that but free from attachment. Understand? They can rest and meditate whenever they want to. They can leave at any time as well – no luggage. There’s only one set of garments to wear. And when they find a place with water, they can bathe and wash their clothes. They don’t have soap or anything; they just wash like that. Then they spread them on the rocks and put them back on after a while.

When I was in the Himalayas, I had at least two sets of clothes. Two outfits, but they were similar – just a bit thin because, at that time, I was coming from the tropics. There was still… I also had a sweater. (A scarf.) Scarf? (A scarf.) Scarf – it was not a scarf. It was something else I put on. Never mind. It was like a pair of pajamas. And then… if it got cold, I just put on a warm jacket. It was not as big, as thick, or as warm as this. It was lightweight. I just wore whatever I had. At that time, I was more… maybe more passive. I didn’t think that much. I never thought: “Oh! I’ve got to hurry back and make money to buy more warm clothes and then return.” No, I didn’t think about that! I was like a child back then, content with any treatment and whatever was given to me.

But I didn’t go begging for alms. I had my own money, which was not a lot. I ate only a little bit each day, and that’s how I could survive. So, I could walk very far because I didn’t have much luggage – two sets of thin clothes, just like the kind you wear to sleep. Cotton – it’s cheaper in India. Originally, I had three sets. But as I went higher up, even one set more wouldn’t do. I had one set on me, and the other one was rolled up inside the sleeping bag. That was it. Otherwise, given that I’m so “big” and I was by myself, I couldn’t walk with too many things. But I feel that I was most at ease back then. Now, when I think about it, that was my happiest and most comfortable time.

Maybe that’s why those Indian monks didn’t want to go anywhere… Because they had left their homes. They had families, too. They left their wives, their husbands, or their husbands and children. And off they went, all alone and free. But it’s not all that good. The monk with the bad rice was already very lucky. Some don’t even have rice to eat. I met a monk who had not eaten for 14 days. He just drank water, the water from the Ganges River. It’s free and clean, not like ours.

You know, like before, I heard that the toilet water was sucked out of a lake, and you thought it wasn’t clean enough to flush the toilets. You had to trouble me to get the water filtered. You even bothered me about that. You were too much, OK? You went too far. Don’t be like that again. If something comes up, talk to the contact person. Discuss it among yourselves. It was so simple – asking someone to install a filter. Why did you have to bug me? It’s not that I can’t do it. It’s just that I’m very busy, OK? Let me do my work, and you do yours. When you come here, this is like your home. What would you do if the water in your house wasn’t clean? Call someone to fix it, right? (Right.) (Right. Yes.) Yes. It’s not like I’m renting the place to you to make money, and you look for the landlady at the drop of a hat. I’m not the landlady. You came here voluntarily. I didn’t even invite you, did I? Did I invite you? Was there an invitation? Did you get one? (No.) No. You come and go on your own, but then you complain, huh? I’ve already done what I can. (OK.)

I already knew… I told you not to come. This is not a great location. Did I advertise and say: “Oh, the place is very nice! Come here to camp, to play and to look around?” Did I? (No.) But then you made a fuss, so I said, “OK, you can come and see it if you want to.” But you know the situation. It’s not that you don’t. (We do.) Even if you haven’t been here before, you’ve seen the videos. There are only shacks, canopies and umbrellas. Nothing else, huh? I’ve never said my place is great or that there are lots of extravagant, luxurious things. No, huh? (No.) You have to take good care of your inner self as you practice spiritually. (OK.) Don’t be so quick to criticize this and that everywhere you go. It’s easy to criticize. It’s better to keep your mouth shut. (OK.) Talking too much can hurt people. (OK.) Understand? Sometimes it hurts. It’s best not to say anything if you don’t have to. Handle things yourself if you can. Don’t bother other people anymore, especially not your Master. (OK.)

Share
Share To
Embed
Start Time
Download
Mobile
Mobile
iPhone
Android
Watch in mobile browser
GO
GO
Prompt
OK
App
Scan the QR code,
or choose the right phone system to download
iPhone
Android