(Minghui.org) Greetings, compassionate and great Master. Greetings, fellow practitioners.
In 2006, Master brought several practitioner musicians to the Bay Area and established the Western US Tian Guo Marching Band. He personally selected instruments for us and led our rehearsals. Most Bay Area practitioners had never held a musical instrument before, and some could not read music. Because Master was personally guiding our practice, none of us wanted to fall behind and we went to every rehearsal.
Looking back now, the experience was miraculous. We started from zero: first producing a sound, then playing scales and melodies, and finally coordinating as a group to perform in a parade. After just over a month of study and practice, we made our first public appearance in that year’s May 13 World Falun Dafa Day parade. Soon after, at the end of June, we participated in the Huntington Beach parade in the Los Angeles area, our first parade organized by non-practitioners. From then on, the Western US Tian Guo Marching Band took part not only in major community parades throughout the San Francisco Bay Area, but also in major parades in other cities across the western United States, bringing the beauty of Dafa to many places and receiving warm welcomes from local audiences. We have participated in more than ten parades each year and have won many awards.
During these 20 years of cultivating as a member of the Tian Guo Marching Band, I’ve worked hard and had some challenges as I learned to play and improve my skills. I’ve felt joy when the band’s performances were so warmly welcomed by spectators and organizers and we won awards. We also sometimes faced difficulty when we clarified the truth about the persecution due to the Chinese Communist Party’s long-arm suppression of Falun Dafa activities outside of China.
I’d like to tell you about some of my cultivation experiences during the 20 years I’ve been part of the band.
Sacred and Extraordinary
I feel that the Tian Guo Marching Band is especially unique because Master personally came to the Bay Area to establish it. If I had to describe my strongest impression from my years of cultivation in the band in one phrase, it would be: “Sacred and extraordinary.” Master designed our uniforms and we wear the hats he personally gave us. In the sunlight, the uniforms look exceptionally bright and radiant, yet solemn and sacred. The band emblem bears the word “Dafa,” and in parades we march behind a banner emblazoned with “Falun Dafa.”
From a distance, one sees a group of Chinese people advancing together with orderly, determined steps. Up close, the members include men and women, young and old, and people of different heights, yet their movements are perfectly synchronized. Every gesture conveys conviction and an indestructible will. Their positive energy shows people the beauty of Dafa through beautiful original music and the band members’ demeanor. As the band passes, the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) lies about Dafa and practitioners collapse—without a word needing to be said.
There is also the music we perform. The purer we are inside, the more deeply our music can reach into a person’s microscopic levels, clearing away any negative factors behind that person. Once negative thoughts about Dafa are gone, the person can look at the practitioners before them and truly sense the beauty of Dafa. This can truly save that person. The band really is saving people—large groups of people at a time.
Sentient Beings
The parades we take part in are often major local events, and the crowds along the route are frequently packed with rows and rows of people, stretching as far as the eye can see. When people see the band, their faces light up with joy and some dance along with our music. Every piece we play is followed by applause and cheers. Some families drive for hours to attend these events—some even bring folding chairs and arrive early in the morning and wait for hours. Yes, lifetime after lifetime, who knows how long they have waited for this moment—to hear the Tian Guo Marching Band perform and to receive the treasure brought by Dafa practitioners.
At one community parade, an organizer once excitedly told the band’s coordinator, “You saved the parade,” and even presented us with a special award. Whatever prompted him to say that, I believe his knowing side understood what his words truly meant.
Every year we are invited to participate in the San Francisco Veterans Day Parade. When we pass the main stage, we play “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” The organizer in charge is a military veteran. The first time we performed the piece, he wept openly in front of the assembled service members. “The Stars and Stripes Forever” was composed by John Philip Sousa, known as the “March King.” The piece embodies traditional American values and identity and is familiar to people throughout the United States. In today’s environment in California, which has strayed from tradition and the nation’s founding spirit, this music was performed by a band of Chinese people. At that moment, both on and below the stage, people surely felt something special. Since that year, whenever the band passes the main stage, all the military men in uniform salute our non-military band.
This happens not only in parades organized by non-practitioners. In parades that we organize ourselves, many people say they are astonished when they see our unique band and they pull out their phones to take photos and videos. Many of these parades take place in San Francisco’s Chinatown. In the early years, some people showed disdain or even made negative faces and gestures. People no longer react this way. Instead we hear admiration and praise, and many people give us a thumbs-up. Over these past 20 years, Chinese people’s response has changed from numbness and confusion to approval and admiration. We sense that the mighty current of the Fa-rectification of the universe is vividly manifesting in the human world.
A Pledge Before Battle
After we warm up and before we set out for each parade, we recite, “On Dafa” and Master’s poem: “Tian Guo Marching Band.” This has now become second nature. In the band’s early years, however, we often forgot to do this. We later noticed that whenever we did not recite the Fa beforehand, the parade’s effect was less than ideal. So I always reminded everyone to recite the Fa.
Perhaps because I mentioned it so often, everyone began asking me to lead the recitation. I accepted the responsibility. I felt this worked well: with someone leading, everyone could stay together. If I heard one section falling out of sync, I raise my voice in that direction and help bring everyone back into unison.
I firmly believe that when we recite the Fa with undivided focus, the entire band speaking as one, the Fa shakes other dimensions, our own cosmic bodies, and even the great firmament. Then, when we set out in the parade, we are Dafa practitioners doing Dafa work, and we can do it well.
This is easy to describe now, but it is not easy to stand before the whole group and recite the Fa without a distracting thought. Before major parades, many non-practitioner marching bands are also there, each warming up at full volume. Often, just as we begin reciting the Fa, every sound around us seems to become “inexplicably” louder and more chaotic. Doing well under those conditions is truly difficult. Yet that makes it all the more important to remind myself to focus: We are validating the Fa and helping Master save people. I think to myself, “Isn’t it precisely because this is difficult that we practitioners are here to do it?”
Once, just as I settled into and was focused on reciting the Fa, I suddenly saw a scene. The people standing before me were no longer band members, but generals about to enter the battlefield. Their band uniforms were armor and battle robes; the instruments in their hands were weapons. Instead of a parade, in another dimension we were troops and pledged ourselves before a life-and-death battle.
In ancient times, warriors who made such a pledge set aside life and death. They only had one thought: to courageously defeat the enemy. To survive was to return in triumph; to die was simply to have one’s body wrapped in horsehide, the warrior’s final resting place. In such an army, one soldier could be worth a hundred, and the force would be invincible.
When I saw this, I quickly focused on reciting the Fa.
Although the vision lasted only an instant, it shook me deeply and left me unable to calm down for a long time. Indeed, among today’s Falun Dafa practitioners, who is not one in ten thousand? Who has not endured countless battles throughout history? Our parades do not outwardly resemble life-and-death battles, yet the fortitude and faith that we have forged lifetime after lifetime is written into every person in the band’s formation and is expressed through the music we play. What Dafa activity today is not a battle in the cosmos? With Master and the Fa here, as long as we remember that we are practitioners in the Fa-rectification period, we can do everything well.
Cultivation
The band is a good place to cultivate. Parade routes run along public streets, where potholes and uneven pavement are the norm. Every step may land at a different height, yet we must keep our upper bodies steady while we continue playing. I still remember in the early years after parades, my lips would be split and bleeding from the mouthpiece shifting as I marched. Once, after a parade in summer, I felt as though my face were covered in dust. When I touched it, I wondered why the dust was white and made of tiny grains. Then I realized it was salt. Sweat had streamed down my face while I played, and I wasn’t able to wipe it away. These physical hardships were not the most difficult part, however; there were also xinxing trials.
For a period of time, each section invited a professional teacher to give lessons. The teacher only spoke English. Each of us would play a passage, and afterward he would give us individual guidance and assign targeted practice for the next lesson. Perhaps because my English was good enough to converse with him on the spot, he often called me forward and corrected me repeatedly in front of everyone. When this happened again and again, I began to lose face, and my thoughts churned back and forth like a pancake being flipped on a griddle. Of course, music theory, reading notation, and fingering were all entirely new to me. I had come to learn, so the more willing the teacher was to teach me, the happier I should have been. When it comes to music, I will always be a student. Once I let go of my attachment to saving face and my fear of embarrassment, I was able to quickly grasp what the teacher explained and play the passage correctly immediately.
There was also a long-distance trip by bus to participate in an out-of-town parade. We slept on the bus and traveled back through the night after the parade. At one stop, several of us lost track of time while clarifying the truth during a meal and returned late. I was made to apologize publicly. Afterward, a thought arose: “Isn’t this like enduring the humiliation of crawling between another man’s legs that Master mentioned in Zhuan Falun?” At first I felt somewhat uncomfortable. Then I changed my perspective and thought, “Haven’t I already made it through?” Before I could even frown, my expression changed to a smile. If we can remember that we’re practitioners no matter what we encounter, what difficulty can we not overcome?
After the band won many awards, I developed an attachment of zealotry. I enjoyed hearing the audience’s cheers during parades and thought about how remarkable we practitioners were. That thought immediately put me on alert. I remembered accounts on Minghui of practitioners in mainland China clarifying the truth to people. When people thanked them afterward, they would say, “If you want to thank someone, thank our Master. Master sent us to save people.”
Indeed, Master is doing everything. We merely move our mouths and speak in the human world. In the band, we simply play and perform well in parades. Yet Master grants us such honors. The band can succeed only when the whole body coordinates well; not one member can be missing. And behind every successful parade are so many practitioners who contribute quietly. What, then, did I have to feel so remarkable about? With this thought, I said silently to the sentient beings, “If you want to cheer and applaud, then cheer and applaud for Master and for Dafa.” As soon as I thought this, my eyes filled with tears.
For a time, I became slack in my cultivation and spent idle moments in the project scrolling on my phone. It soon became difficult to stop and this affected my Fa study and my doing the exercises. Before one large parade, just as we were about to recite the Fa, the other bands around us began warming up more loudly. One of them started playing a piece that we had once practiced. It is not easy to play that piece well while marching. The moment that thought entered my mind, I stumbled in my Fa recitation and then could not tell where the member opposite me—or the rest of the group—had reached. I stood in front of the entire formation, yet felt exactly like a little duckling that had brushed past its flock and got left behind. I wanted to find a hole and jump into it. I did not think deeply about the incident afterward, though I knew I needed to become diligent and take responsibility for my cultivation. Later, when I read the following passage of the Fa, I broke into a cold sweat. Thank you, Master, for your painstaking care and for using that experience as a wake-up call:
“In the end, when you can’t progress to Consummation, you yourself will have to bear the responsibility! Master isn’t trying to scare anyone. Whoever misses out on this historic opportunity, whoever misses out on this chance, when you realize what you’ve missed out on you won’t even want to live even if you are allowed to!” (“Fa Teaching Given at the Metropolitan New York Fa Conference,” Collected Teachings Given Around the World Volume III)
Imagine failing to cultivate well and then, one day, watching everyone else ascend while you remain behind. What would that feel like? It was strikingly similar to what I experienced. From then on, I continually remind myself that I must do well and not fail in my mission.
Conclusion
Over the past twenty years of cultivation in the band, we have experienced hardship and exhaustion, as well as joy. Had I not obtained the Fa, I would have been nothing more in this world than someone who played a horn, tapped on a keyboard, and scrolled on a phone—passing the years in vain and cycling through reincarnation and destruction in the human world. In the cosmos, without Master’s Fa-rectification, perhaps everything would have come to an end. Today, as Dafa practitioners, we can be with Master and participate in the Fa-rectification of the universe. How extraordinarily fortunate we are. How extraordinarily precious this is.
These are my experiences and my understanding at my limited level. Please compassionately point out anything inappropriate.
Thank you, Master. Thank you, everyone.
(Presented at the 2026 San Francisco Fa Conference)
