(Minghui.org) When I was a student in junior high school, a series of questions popped into my mind one day. Why do I exist? Why do I experience joy, sorrow, anger, and happiness? Why do I sense the cold, heat, dryness, or humidity of the weather? Why do objects around me feel soft, hard, icy, or hot? Why are these people around me, instead of other people? Why was I born here and not somewhere else? Everyone is going to die, so why are we alive?
Sometimes I felt a tingling sensation between my eyebrows when I thought about these questions. I tried to discuss my questions and experiences with a friend, but she did not understand what I was talking about.
My Connection With Dafa
My aunt and uncle came for a visit in 1998, my last year in junior high. They talked to my mother, but I didn’t know what they were talking about. They gave her a copy of Zhuan Falun, and I read it after they left. My questions were answered. Yet I had doubts because I was influenced by atheism.
My mother and I went to a Falun Dafa practitioner’s house to watch videos of Master’s lectures and meditate, and we did the standing exercises at the town square in the morning. I didn’t realize that Falun Dafa was a form of cultivation and thought I was merely doing exercises with my mother. Previously at the town square, we learned dancing from elderly people who taught Chinese fan dances and Mongolian chopstick dances.
I didn’t like to dwell on things, but I was often caught up in the conflicts between my parents, my grandmother, and my uncles. I tried to follow the Fa principles and put others first, be a good student, and improve myself. I noticed I was more cheerful, and felt so light that it felt I could fly like a bird. My mother stopped harping on negative things. I realized years later that I had these experiences because of karma, and Master had been protecting us.
The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) launched the persecution of Falun Dafa on July 20, 1999. On July 19, 2000, practitioners told my mother that city authorities confiscated newly purchased Hong Yin books. She wanted to join a group of Dafa practitioners who planned to get the books back.
My mother dropped by the house first and gave me some words of advice. I considered myself a practitioner since I’d been studying the Fa, doing the exercises, and following the standards of the Fa principles. I told my mother that I wanted to go with her, so she took her bicycle and I rode on the back.
When we arrived at the agency where the Dafa books were being held, many practitioners were already waiting outside. It was summer, the sky was clear, and it was very hot and dry. There were very few shaded areas, and gradually large patches of clouds appeared, occasionally blocking the sun and cooling the air.
By 4 p.m. we still had no response from the authorities, so we entered the courtyard. We lined up in rows and began to do the exercises. A large cloud drifted over the sun, shielding us from the hot sun. Some practitioners said Master was watching over us.
The leaders and heads of local organizations came by in the evening to look for their people. My father and school principal came to take me home. Although they threatened me by saying I wasn’t allowed to attend school, they didn’t give me a hard time afterward.
Practitioners later informed people about the persecution. My mother went out to clarify the truth and distribute informational materials about Dafa and the persecution. She didn’t tell me about it or let me participate.
The first time my mother and I distributed information about Dafa in the summer of 2000, I got up in the middle of the night and saw my mother staring at a large bag of flyers. She wanted to distribute them while people were asleep, but she was afraid of the dark, and so was I. When I was home alone I turned on all the lights in the house and sat against the wall until someone came home.
I didn’t know where my courage came from, but told her I would go out with her. We divided the materials and the households units, and headed out in the dark.
The main doors to the apartment units weren’t locked back then, and there were hardly any motion-sensor lights in the hallways. I couldn’t see a thing in the dark so I had to feel my way up the stairs. But I was young so I was able to climb the stairs quickly. I felt my way along the walls and placed the materials by the doors.
I whispered quietly when I entered each building, “I’m here to tell you about Dafa. Continue sleeping.” I wasn’t afraid and I felt it was my mission to do this. Sometimes a dog would bark, and I thought, “I’m here to save you. Don’t bark.”
The residents on the top floors of a building installed sheet-metal doors, and I was moving so fast that I didn’t see them. I slammed into one and it made a loud sound in the quiet night. I immediately thought, “You can’t hear anything. Keep sleeping.” I placed the materials in front of the doors and I went downstairs. It was daylight by the time I finished. I walked home happily, and saw my mother looking down at me from upstairs with a smile.
My mother was illegally arrested and went into hiding later on. My father didn’t tell me anything when we talked on the phone, but I knew that something happened. My first thought was, “Mom is going to be fine. Master is watching over her!”
Two police officers from my district tracked down my father’s contact information and found me. I was working out of town at the time, and they wanted to see if my mother was staying with me. They first located my manager at work and he said he would help me as much as possible. I told the manager, “Thank you for looking out for me. Don’t worry. They won’t find my mother. I’m willing to resign if you think this might affect the company.” The manager was surprised that a young woman who had only been on the job for a few months could remain so calm when faced with this situation.
Two police officers followed me to my residence the next day. I didn’t allow them to come in. I asked to see their badges and wrote down their names. They tried to intimidate me, but I stood my ground, and they left.
After learning that I practiced Dafa, my manager placed great trust in me. When I walked by his office one day I heard him telling a department supervisor, “You can trust her [referring to me] with the money. She won’t misuse it.”
Our company didn’t have a purchasing department, and we had to buy many items for the expansion. My manager had me handle the purchases, and I used the opportunity to talk to the deliverymen about Dafa. When we hired new employees, our office became the waiting room for the job applicants, and I talked to the interviewees about Dafa. I was quite diligent back then.
Renewing My Connection With Dafa and Letting Go of Resentment
My mother lived far away from me and we didn’t stay in touch for several years. I still had human attachments, and I began to spend more time shopping and dining out with my coworkers. I started dating a non-practitioner and I gradually slacked off in studying the Fa and doing the exercises. I became more like an everyday person.
I cultivated halfheartedly until the COVID pandemic broke out at the end of 2019. I realized I shouldn’t slack off anymore, and I went back to my mother’s place so that I could devote myself to cultivation. I then met my future husband, and underwent a difficult process of eliminating my attachment to resentment.
My husband is a practitioner and he’s a few years older than me. At first, I hoped he would take care of me and guide me in studying the Fa and doing the exercises. Things turned out exactly the opposite because I wanted to depend on him. He came from a family of three children, and his parents spoiled him—he was accustomed to thinking of himself first. He didn’t know how to do any housework, had bad habits, and lacked basic manners and etiquette. These were the things I found fault with after we got married.
We renovated our new home while I was pregnant. My husband knew nothing about renovations, made no effort to learn, and certainly didn’t pitch in—I had to oversee every single step. When the appliances were being installed, the technician looked at me with my big belly, and asked, “Is there anyone else in your household?”
I replied helplessly, “Actually, no one here can help me.” From the daily conflicts over trivialities to the mental and physical exhaustion of caring for our child, my resentment toward my husband grew.
I couldn’t concentrate when I studied the Fa and I couldn’t complete the five exercises. I was constantly exhausted. Whenever my resentment arose, I looked inward unconditionally.
Although I found fault with my husband every day, I knew I shouldn’t do that. My husband didn’t care about me, our child, our home, and he couldn’t do anything right, so I wasn’t wrong to criticize him. But I also knew I shouldn’t be moved and I hadn’t found my attachments.
Master said,
“...[During a conflict, if you can remember:]
He’s right,And I’m wrong,”What’s to dispute?” (“Who’s Right, Who’s Wrong,” Hong Yin III)
What did I do wrong? I was stuck for a long time and couldn’t break through. It was truly painful. If I wasn't practicing Dafa, I would have become quite depressed.
I felt I was going crazy, so I searched for articles on the Minghui website about cultivation amid family conflicts to see how others were cultivating. From what I read, practitioners said that after they began practicing Dafa, their resentment toward their husbands disappeared and they empathized with them. But how did they reach that state? There should be some kind of process or methods involved.
In one article the practitioner said her husband hit her whenever she did the exercises. She broke down in tears one day when her husband beat her, because she sensed what he had to endure so she could cultivate. I suddenly, understood what was blocking my mind, but I couldn’t put it into words. Why couldn’t I see that my husband was actually helping me? All my complaints toward him finally melted away like snow, and I felt clearer.
I gradually stopped complaining about my husband not helping with the housework. I quit nitpicking him when he cooked, and would occasionally help him wash vegetables or help him with other things. I tidied up the kitchen that looked like a battlefield after he finished cooking.
I was able to see that he did care about me, loved our child, and looked after our home, but in his own way. My husband has helped me let go of my grievances, resentment, ego, pride, and vanity. I’ve come to understand why I couldn’t relate to the cultivation journeys described by fellow practitioners, because those were their paths. I must forge my own path in cultivation. Only when I truly enlighten to it does it become my cultivation journey. I am grateful to my husband.
I still have many attachments to let go of. As the Fa-rectification enters its final stage, I will be more diligent and not disappoint Master.
