(Minghui.org) I am a young Falun Dafa practitioner who began practicing in 2010. Since then, my life has undergone a tremendous transformation. I went from being a young apprentice from the countryside who came to the city to study art to becoming a moderately well-known artist with my own studio. All of this is a gift bestowed upon me by Master Li. Here, I wish to express my eternal gratitude to compassionate and great Master and to share a few details about my cultivation journey.
I’ve loved drawing since I was a child, and I especially loved traditional painting. Later, I specialized in Chinese painting, but my calligraphy didn’t keep up—my handwriting and my paintings were clearly on different levels. Often, a finished painting would be ruined by an unreadable signature, so I eventually stopped signing my paintings altogether or, for my best works, asked my teacher to inscribe the signature for me.
I’m quite good at copying characters from calligraphy study guides, but as soon as I step away from the workbooks and manuals, my handwriting reverts to its true form—meaning I can’t replicate the characters.
During this time of distress, I was blessed to learn about Dafa. I was deeply moved by Dafa’s profound and vast principles and resolved to embark on the path of returning to my true self. I eagerly studied Master’s book Zhuan Falun and his lectures delivered in various locations throughout China.
Through studying the Fa, my character improved rapidly, and I found convincing answers to many of life’s previously baffling questions. I came to understand that China’s 5,000 years of culture paved the way for sentient beings to cultivate and return to their origins, a path centered on and grounded in morality.
I pondered whether the principles of Chinese calligraphy embodied the same essence, namely the traditional cultural values of humility and consideration for others. Characters, too, exhibit a form of “humility” akin to human behavior. When writing, every stroke must take the whole into account. Early strokes must consider those that follow, anticipating what is yet to be written. Wow! So that was the secret. It sounds simple. A tiny shift in perspective fundamentally resolved the challenges of character structure for me.
The same principle applies whether dealing with radicals, simple characters, or complex compounds, and across scripts such as Regular, Semi-cursive, Clerical, and Official. The theory was easy to grasp, and the results were immediate. In a very short time, my handwriting underwent a complete transformation, and I mastered writing in all these styles—using both hard-tipped pens and soft brushes.
This was something I never could have imagined in my wildest dreams. I quickly developed a comprehensive theoretical framework that proved invaluable to my future teaching; because it involved personifying Chinese characters, the lessons’ underlying principles were essentially about how to conduct oneself in life. This also played a significant role in my later efforts to clarify the truth and save people. Thank you, Master, for bestowing this on me.
I remember reading Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Whenever a character displayed arrogance, I knew that person was bound to run into trouble later on or even lose his life. Often, once arrogance takes root, humility is lost; one becomes prone to self-satisfaction, showing off, and complacency—even to the point of becoming conceited and unable to heed sound advice.
As my handwriting improved, I unconsciously began to feel a sense of pride, mistaking the blessings bestowed by Master and Dafa as my own ability. In this way, my attachments brought me trouble.
One day, a bump the size of a grain of rice appeared on the back of my hand near the webbing between my thumb and index finger. At first, I didn’t pay much attention to it, but after two days, it grew larger and began oozing pus; at its worst, it was the size of a coin.
That’s when I started taking it seriously. I knew it was a way to eliminate karma and that it stemmed from issues with my character, but I only made a superficial effort to look inward—I didn’t examine every thought, word, and deed.
It wasn’t until my younger sister, a non-practitioner, saw it and said, “Brother, your hand is in such bad shape. Why aren’t you using medicine? Or did the medicine not work?” After saying that, she went out and bought a tube of ointment, telling me to apply it right away. Worried she might not understand, I said, “Just leave it on the table. I’ll deal with it after I finish what I’m doing.”
At that moment, I realized: I am a Dafa disciple, and this “sore” on my hand cannot continue like this. I had two options: either treat it with medicine now or, as a cultivator, find the root cause of my problem.
I knew medicine could only treat symptoms; it couldn’t eliminate karma, let alone address the human attachments associated with it. I decided to start by working on my xinxing (moral character).
I thought: It’s been hot lately, which made the “sore” on my hand impossible to hide under a shirt cuff. It was also student registration season, and as parents lined up to register their children, I was filling out the forms—every time I reached out my hand, everyone could see it. The “sore” was right at the base of my thumb, near where my hand meets the pen, making it even more conspicuous.
Conspicuous. The word struck a chord. Suddenly, I felt a jolt go through my body; I realized I had an attachment to showing off—a desire to display myself. I immediately sat in the lotus position and sent forth righteous thoughts to eliminate it.
Once the root cause was identified, the “sore” healed on its own within two or three days, leaving a barely visible scar. Although the incident might have seemed minor, there are no trivial matters in cultivation; everything must be taken seriously, and one cannot afford to be careless.
I have often turned bad things into good by looking inward in this way, but this particular instance left the deepest impression on me. It was a classic tribulation brought on by a desire to show off, carelessness, and a failure to take cultivation seriously. I hope fellow practitioners facing similar situations will take this as a lesson.
Once again, I would like to express my gratitude to Master for his compassionate guidance and meticulous care.
Throughout my cultivation, the trial of lust has been a major hurdle. I’ve been drawing since elementary school and have created quite a few so-called nude art pieces. Along with the “sexually liberated” nature of this era, in which my daily life—from my cell phone to television—is saturated with sensual content, I’ve stumbled more than once in the face of this temptation.
I have recently realized that lust holds such sway primarily because, deep down, I perceive it as desirable. I have an attachment within me that I simply do not want to let go of.
What, then, is so appealing about lust? For example, the voice, appearance, skin tone, hairstyle, clothing, figure, body language, speech and manners, as well as charm, talents, personality, temperament, inner qualities, or even something as small as a silhouette, a glance, or a single remark—if you find even the slightest of these appealing, your heart is stirred, you’ve fallen prey to the demon of lust, and you’ve invited it into your life.
We naturally find it hard to let go of things we find appealing and want to possess. Failing to obtain them causes suffering and may even give rise to jealousy. Even if we cannot have them in reality, we want them in our thoughts (for thought is matter).
As a result, when walking down the street, we might look at someone we find attractive, glance a few extra times, linger a little longer in front of the TV, phone, or video screen, and afterward find ourselves reminiscing about and replaying the moment in our minds.
In this way, the material aspect of lust continues to grow stronger. Even if one feels it is wrong, resistance is merely an acknowledgment, and eventually it becomes difficult to break free because the human heart cannot overcome the demon of lust.
In cultivation, one must begin by reevaluating what one considers good; only then can you be effective. One must view lust as “not good” to truly resist it.
Fundamentally, this means setting a high standard for oneself: regarding oneself as a practitioner and not seeking what others deem good. I’ve found that when I see people with attractive faces or figures, I’m no longer easily tempted or driven to possess them. I simply feel that such feelings have nothing to do with me.
This is what I understand at my current level. Please kindly point out anything that is not in line with the Fa.