The better your cultivation, the more demons you will encounter. That’s why, in practising Buddhism and cultivating the mind, you must be diligent. Think of it like climbing a mountain: when you’re low down, it’s easy to head back; but the higher you climb, the more focused you need to be, and the more dangerous it becomes—you could easily slip and fall. Cultivating the mind is the same. The better you get at it, the easier it is to veer off course—because you still have a physical body in the human realm.
The more advanced your practise, the more demons there will be, and the more tests they will bring. For example, you might think, “I’ve been reciting sutras so well for such a long time—why is my home life still a mess? Why am I still unhappy?” That’s a demonic test. The better your cultivation, the more the demons will try to throw you off. It’s like being at school: if your grades are poor, no one bothers you; but if you’re top of the class, people get jealous, spread rumours, or talk you down. Isn’t that right? In the same way, when your recitation reaches a certain level, the demons appear. They whisper, “Stop studying—it’s too hard,” or “Relax, enjoy yourself a bit.” They nudge you towards things that pull you back, cloud your thinking, and make you lose clarity—that is a demonic test.
Here’s a simple example: someone loves eating, especially certain dishes. During a meal, the demon whispers, “Go on, you love it—eat more!” Before long, they’re overweight and dealing with all sorts of health problems. A demonic test comes when your thinking goes off track—it’s there to challenge you. For instance, if you’re committed to becoming vegetarian, your favourite foods might pop up in your dreams, tempting you to see whether you’ll give in. You need to understand this.
Learning Buddhism is about climbing step by step, one level at a time. I’ve told you before: this world arises from the coming together of causes and conditions—where there is a cause, there must be an effect. Right? Why do you develop cancer while others don’t? Why can you encounter the Buddha-dharma when so many haven’t? None of this is under human control. Your fate is set; you can’t change that. But your fortune, what you hold in your hands—can change your fate. That’s why you need to recite sutras and seek the compassionate blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva to overcome disasters. Many people don’t understand this. It comes down to whether you are willing to accept it. If you embrace the compassion of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, you can navigate through disasters. If you refuse, then there’s nothing to be done—not even the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas can save you. So, let me tell you: whether it’s feng shui or destiny, if you believe, you can avoid many negative outcomes, and bad things won’t keep dragging on. But if you don’t believe and don’t recite sutras, you’re stuck following your predetermined fate. These days, time feels shorter, and human lifespans are shorter too—people now live far less than they used to. With natural disasters and human troubles, so many develop cancer and pass away quickly. So, cherish your time and diligently practise Buddhism and cultivate your mind.
Today, I want to tell you: in practising Buddhism or in your daily interactions with people, don’t look down on others. As a Buddhist practitioner, you mustn’t belittle anyone. When you’re answering questions over the phone or on the blog, if you brush people off like they don’t matter, that’s looking down on them. To be a good person, you need to value others’ feelings. If you get it wrong, it means you haven’t respected their feelings. Someone might be struggling, in real pain, and if you dismiss them with a few casual words, from a spiritual perspective, that’s a sign you lack compassion. We need to respect others and take them seriously. If someone pours you a glass of water today or helps you out, you should thank them and feel grateful. Who set out the chairs you’re sitting on today? Who made it possible for you to be here listening to my Dharma talk? The good food you’re eating, the health you enjoy—it’s all thanks to the blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva. The fact that you’re not battling cancer, that you’re living safely and peacefully—that’s Guan Yin Bodhisattva’s compassion at work, isn’t it? You’ve got to have a heart of gratitude. But how many people truly feel gratitude these days? So many are never satisfied. Someone does something for you, and you still look down on them. If someone smiles at you, you think, “Who are they?” Whenever someone smiles at you or treats you sincerely, you should feel grateful and reflect on it. If young people show you respect today, it’s because of the light of Guan Yin Bodhisattva that you are benefiting from while being here—not because you’re entitled to it. If someone treats you well, return that kindness and always show them respect.
Good Dharma advisor, uninterrupted thought after thought is merit. A “good Dharma advisor” is a term for a lay practitioner with a high level of spiritual attainment. Even though they haven’t been ordained and left home life, their state of mind is lofty—almost like a Bodhisattva in the human world. What makes a good Dharma advisor? Their knowledge is rooted in goodness. Because some knowledge is harmful. What’s harmful knowledge? Things like teaching you how to win the lottery or how to gamble—isn’t that knowledge? But it’s bad knowledge. Teaching you how to sue someone, deceive others, or rob—that’s harmful knowledge too. As Buddhist practitioners, we should seek out good Dharma advisors.
Thought after thought, without interruption, every thought should be wholesome—this is merit. What does it mean? It’s about keeping your mind on reciting sutras, without leaving any gaps for negative thoughts to creep in. That’s constant mindfulness. In other words, when your mind is filled with chanting and kind intentions, merit and virtue arise, and those unwholesome thoughts are pushed out.
Let me give you an example to make it clearer. This morning, you come to the Guan Yin Hall and spend an hour reciting sutras with focus. But then, as you’re reciting, your mind drifts to something upsetting, and you start cursing someone in your head. After a bit, you go back to reciting. So, out of three hours, you’ve got one hour of proper reciting and half an hour of negative thoughts. In the end, your merit and virtue only amounts to that one hour. Got it? That one hour might not be enough to bring about a true shift from quantity to quality, so you end up with just a good deed, not genuine merit and virtue. When you get angry—there’s a saying we often use, “anger burns down your forest of merit”—it’s not that you have no merit and virtue at all, but because you didn’t cultivate your mind or recite properly, your merit and virtue get wiped out. Take a couple arguing: one says something harsh, and the other snaps back, “You’re burning your merit and virtue with this fight—you’ll have nothing left!” That only adds fuel to the fire, because the person thinks, “If my merit and virtue are gone, I might as well keep going.” So, whether it’s a woman or a man, you need to know when to stop. Don’t poke at someone’s sore spots. These days, many people love hitting where it hurts during arguments—stirring up pain, sadness, or rage just to feel satisfied. But that’s what we call damaging your merit and eroding your virtue. Once virtue is lost, it’s very hard to build it up again. That’s why you must stay clear-headed and keep your mind pure if you want to accumulate merit and virtue.
I may not know much about cooking, but the principle’s the same. Take making sweet fermented rice, for example. At the start you add yeast to the rice, cover it, and let it ferment. It takes time for the flavour to develop and for the rice to transform into something else. That’s all about accumulation over time. The good and bad things we do are like that—they build up, and only after enough time do they turn into something else. At first, sweet fermented rice is just plain rice. Why does it later turn into something different? Through a process of accumulation. When I was a kid, I loved sweet fermented rice. I’d lift the lid to sniff it, but it wasn’t ready. I’d check again later—still not ready. That slows the process down. It’s the same with your good deeds. You do a bunch of good things, but then you “lift the lid” by doing something bad, then cover it again, then lift it again with another bad act. What could have been finished in a day ends up taking two or three days—or even longer. Isn’t that a loss? The examples I’m giving you in plain language carry deep meaning. In Buddhist practice, you must be diligent, not taking one step forward and one step back. In modern terms, we’d call it being “wishy-washy” or “working hard for three days and slacking off for two.”
As human beings, we need to learn to put ourselves in others’ shoes. That means feeling their pain as if it were your own, sharing their joy as if it were yours—that’s true empathy, that’s what it means to learn from the Buddha and the Bodhisattvas. Got it? For example, if someone’s suffering, think, “What if that were me?” Today, someone came to me frantic because her child had run away. Imagine if it was your child—how would you feel? That’s empathy, right? If they’re desperate, you feel that urgency too. Or if someone’s celebrating—like their child got into university—picture it as your own child succeeding. Only then can you genuinely share their happiness. But how many people actually do this? How many truly think about others?
In practising Buddhism, we must keep our mind and conduct straight and upright. This means that when I think about something, my thoughts should be clear and direct, not twisted or scheming. Some people overcomplicate everything, turning a simple, honest situation into something convoluted because their mind takes a dozen detours, misinterpreting others’ intentions. That’s why they burn through their mental energy faster. Ever notice how some clever people end up with dementia in old age? It’s because they’ve overtaxed their minds. A straightforward mind and conduct means thinking clearly and directly. Too many people harbour sneaky thoughts, never taking things at face value. If you say something, they overthink it, reading all sorts of meanings into it. Practising Buddhism means keeping your mind and conduct upright—thinking and acting correctly, without assuming the worst of others. For example, if I say something carelessly and offend someone without meaning to, but the words are already spoken, I shouldn’t dwell on it or over-explain. The more you explain, the messier it gets, and the more trouble you stir up. Understand? So many people live in a cycle of justifying themselves—it’s exhausting. To be a Buddhist, you need a broad, open heart, like an ocean that accepts all rivers. No matter how murky a river’s water may be, it becomes clear in the sea. Even someone flawed can come to our Guan Yin Hall and change for the better, because the Buddha-dharma is boundless. That’s the principle. Got it?
You must treat all beings equally—that’s true virtue. Your level of virtue shows in how equally you view others. If you see everyone as worthy, doesn’t that reflect your virtue? If you treat this person well and that person kindly, your heart starts to fill with joy. But if you’re constantly caught up in jealousy, worrying about what others say, fearing they’ll push you out or look down on you—how exhausting is that? I want you young people to think simply and straight, not to get tangled up in overthinking. Look at you—at such a young age, you’re already carrying so much suffering. Do you know what kind of suffering this is? The suffering of overthinking. It’s draining. Someone says something, and you rack your brain over it, living in exhaustion, unable to even smile. I want to guide you to keep your mind and conduct straight and upright, and have an open, honest character. But let me warn you: don’t misuse this by saying, “I’m just direct, I say what I want, I’ll curse whoever I like.” That’s absolutely not acceptable.
Self-cultivation of your own body is virtue; self-cultivation of your Buddha-nature is merit. Together, they form true merit and virtue. If you constantly cultivate your Buddha-nature, you are practising compassion—that brings merit. If you constantly cultivate your body, living as an honest, decent person who doesn’t do bad things, doesn’t steal or cheat, earning money fairly and acting with sincerity, you are a virtuous person. A virtuous person is a kind person. And when a kind person practises Buddhism and cultivates their mind, they gain merit. That combination is what we call merit and virtue.