What you experience in this world—the material things you receive—are actually just shadows. The deeds you performed in past lives are like reflections cast into this life. They are neither higher nor lower; they appear exactly according to what you’ve done before. However you acted in the past, that is the shadow you see now. Shadows may appear larger or smaller, but that’s merely an illusion. They might seem small, yet in truth, they remain the same. In the Chinese character for “thought” (念), the component “now” (今) represents both reality and the present moment. This means that when karmic conditions and past shadows merge with your true mind, the character “thought” arises. To chant with sincerity is to use your true mind—to let your genuine and compassionate heart give rise to thought. Even stray thoughts arise in this same way—through karmic conditions, past shadows, and your own mental effort. That is how thoughts come into being. Thoughts are powerful—they act like scouts that lead the way. If your thoughts are good, you become a good person; if they’re bad, you become otherwise.
To recognise the true is also to recognise the false. Only by understanding what is real can you discern what is illusory. Mindfulness means using your true mind. Every thought and intention, together with your words and actions, make up what we call mindfulness. As the saying goes, “If you can break free from the illusions created by the Six Dusts (the six sense objects), you will see your true mind.” In Buddhist practice, when we free ourselves from the defilements of the six sense objects—the illusions perceived through sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, and thought—we are able to perceive our true mind.
In the past, monks often referred to themselves as “this poor monk.” What were they poor in? They meant their physical body, their flesh. The phrase expressed detachment from worldly concerns: “I am poor.” Yet within, their wisdom and cultivated mind were inexhaustible. With their wisdom, they could save countless sentient beings, guiding them to awakening and liberation. Isn’t that the true meaning of boundless virtue and power? A person who is truly poor is poor within, not without. Some people may be wealthy, yet every word from their mouth is coarse—can such people truly earn respect? Their inner poverty makes them impure. But when a monk says “this poor monk,” it means that although the body may be poor, the soul is noble. With wisdom, even a Buddhist disciple who appears poor outwardly can still benefit sentient beings, for the path of the Dharma has no limits or boundaries. The Buddhas and Bodhisattvas teach us to make our hearts as vast as the universe itself—able to encompass the entire Dharma Realm. This whole world is ultimately empty and illusory, yet the mind of a Buddhist practitioner can embrace it all. How noble and extraordinary that is! Without Buddhist practice, how many people could embrace the whole world within their hearts? Most can only hold their family, their spouse, or their children.
A Buddhist practitioner’s morality is genuine, and that’s why they already possess true wealth and nobility. Their wealth lies in the heart, and their nobility shines through inner character. This kind of wealth and nobility reflect a person’s true refinement and moral standard—not whether they wear designer brands. Some people are rich, dressed in genuine luxury, yet others still see them as fake because their inner qualities don’t match. Money isn’t something everyone can have, but even those who do rarely grasp its deeper value. And true moral wealth and nobility—those are not things just anyone can attain. You need inner depth, discipline, and dignity. I’m teaching you to carry yourselves with grace, so that when people see you, they immediately sense your refinement—that’s your inner character radiating outward.
When you do good work or engage in spiritual practice, slander often follows—that’s what we call “slander arises from virtuous deeds.” When your virtue earns you respect, destructive criticism comes along too—that’s “high virtue invites ruin.” But through it all, you remain unchanged, as if nothing happened. Because you are virtuous, others may try to tear you down; because you do good, slander follows. Yet you are still you. What harm can slander do to me? I see it instead as a teaching from a good Dharma friend. Can you do that? When you hear harsh words or slander, see it as an opportunity to build your merit and virtue. Someone criticises you? That’s actually helping you accumulate merit. When people point out your faults, treat them as good Dharma friends, not as enemies.
Those who truly pass the test are you disciples who keep coming back. Why? Because even after being criticised, you return. Even after being corrected or making mistakes, you come back again. That’s what makes you genuine practitioners. Where you fall is where you must rise again, right? Right. Never giving up—that’s how you forge strength. For example, if someone slanders or frames me, I still keep going. You must have perseverance and unwavering faith that your cultivation will succeed—that is true conviction.
Slander, in fact, becomes our good Dharma friend. For those who are slandered, your patience, your refusal to retaliate, and the gratitude in your heart all elevate you. In that way, you even help the slanderer reflect on themselves: “Was I right to act that way? Perhaps I should have expressed it differently.” When you regard the slanderer as essentially a decent and educated person who’s still teaching you something, then what harm is there in listening? What does it matter what they say? We must cultivate equanimity toward both enemies and friends. Whether people praise or criticise you, remain the same. That’s the state of tolerance of non-arising dharmas—a profound patience born of compassion. When someone slanders you, don’t respond—endure it. That very endurance strengthens you. For example, if people speak ill of you behind your back but you stay calm and cheerful, they’re the ones left fuming, hurting themselves—not you. By enduring patiently, your own spiritual state rises higher. But if you argue back, you’re no better than them—just equally petty.
When someone slanders you, respond with compassion—pity them and treat them as a great Dharma teacher. If they point out your flaws today, they’re your Dharma teacher; if they call out your mistakes, they’re a true friend. No one else dares to tell you your faults, but they do—so they’re the good ones. When someone speaks ill of you, see them as a kind person trying to help. Doesn’t that make you feel better? Even if they’re wrong, think, “They mean well.” It’s like when you tell your child, “Listen to Mum—I’m saying this for your own good.” Don’t you hope your child replies, “I know, Mum, you’re looking out for me”? A mother’s heart is always selfless. So, whoever criticises you, respect them. Slander is like the wind blowing past, as the saying goes: “The sound of slander is like the wind passing by.” When someone insults you, it’s just a gust of wind—whoosh—and it’s gone. Would you try to grab the wind and say, “Hey, you insulted me”? You can’t hold onto it; there’s nothing there. Let the insult pass like a breeze—that’s true refinement and wisdom. When a bad wind blows, only a fool tries to catch it and argue, “What did you say about me? Am I like that?” Clinging to that bad wind is pointless.
Here’s a tip: slander is empty—it’s just sound that fades away. If you insist on holding onto harsh words, saying, “Don’t go—let’s argue,” isn’t that foolish? Some people are better off not hearing clearly—or not hearing at all. If you don’t hear it, it passes by; if you do, you get angry. Think about arguments: one person says, “What did you say? I didn’t catch that—say it again!” The other says, “Nothing,” and the quarrel ends. But if they repeat it, the fight starts all over again. Isn’t that a life lesson? To live in this world, you need wisdom and cultivation. Who hasn’t been criticised before? Let them say what they will—once it’s said, it’s over. Words are empty. By nature, the mind itself is empty, so when insults come, they too are empty. Insult me, strike me, slander me—it doesn’t matter. I’m still me. If the criticism is valid, I correct myself; if it’s not, I take it as encouragement to improve. There’s a saying: “Lie low when the wind blows.” When the bad wind of slander comes, step aside and let it pass.
In the time of Shakyamuni Buddha, He was once known as the Sage of Forbearance. Before becoming the Buddha, He descended from the heavens and manifested as this Sage, practising patience to the utmost. People could cut or injure Him at will, and He bore it without a single complaint. We too must practise patience. In every Dharma talk I remind you: you must learn to endure. Why have my disciples now begun to act like true disciples? Just last week, several people asked to formally become my disciples and wanted to know the conditions. The very first requirement I gave was this: understand that the world is empty. To be a disciple, the first condition is to let go of being “right.” You must always see yourself as “wrong.” Why? Because everything in this world is empty — a temporary combination of causes and conditions. What is there to fight over? Everything in this world is fleeting, so what’s the point of arguing?
Remember this saying: “Trying to stop a dispute through argument will never work; only patience can end a dispute. This method is truly precious.” When you’re caught in an argument, trying to win by arguing harder won’t resolve it. But if one person remains patient, the quarrel stops. That is a valuable lesson. Don’t waste energy fighting — when the whole world is an illusion, what can you truly gain by winning an argument? It’s not real.
How do you find peace? Many people today say they can’t find peace. To gain peace, be open-minded, let go of attachments, stay cheerful, and take fame and fortune lightly. Go with the flow, follow the natural course of things, and you will find peace. Life is impermanent — always changing. Today may be good; tomorrow may not. When facing life’s ups and downs, work to minimise pain and sadness. When something unpleasant happens, bring your suffering and sorrow down to the lowest possible point. Fill every minute, every second, with joy, contentment, and calm. Keep this thought in your mind: “I’m not dissatisfied, I’m not doubtful, I’m not complaining — I hold gratitude in my heart.” That is how you achieve true peace.