When I help others, I feel that I am gaining something, not giving something away. People usually think, “I’m helping you, I bought you food—that’s me being good to you, that’s me giving.” These days, people tend to expect something in return, and that’s a matter of mindset. When your mindset is limited in this way, even helping others can leave you feeling unhappy. You might think, “I’ve done so much for them, and they don’t even appreciate it.” You may even say, “I’m doing this for free,” and your expression gives away your attitude when you say it. Right?
You need to understand that helping others is actually a way of gaining something yourself. Do you realise how much you receive when you help others? You gain boundless wisdom. What you receive in return is wisdom and the potential for insight and enlightenment. And when others are grateful for your help, people will support you when you are in need—when one person faces hardship, help comes from all directions.
When you reach this higher level of understanding, you’ll find the path of compassion. That’s the path we cultivate. If you understand this principle, the path will reveal itself to you. If you don’t, you won’t find it. Do you see?
Many people become upset when they lose their jobs, not realising that a better job may be waiting for them. Some go through a broken relationship, unaware that a better one may be on the horizon. However, whether you encounter these new opportunities depends on whether you have the fortune and virtue—and whether you are sincerely practising Buddhism. If you genuinely practise, the Bodhisattvas will help you solve your problems.
Your understanding of theory and mindset must align. In other words, even if you’ve spent a long time studying Buddhism and absorbed a lot of theory, without the right mindset, you won’t truly grasp the teachings of the Bodhisattvas. That’s why some people devote all their time to studying theories, becoming fluent in Buddhist teachings—saying things like, “This Buddha is like that,” or “That Bodhisattva is like this,” and quoting scripture after scripture. But they are only studying Buddhism—they are not practising it. If your state of mind doesn’t reach the level of the Bodhisattvas, what is the point of all your learning?
You need to understand: practising Buddhism is not just about reading scriptures; it’s about cultivating the mindset of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. Their teachings are grounded in this elevated state of mind. What is a higher state of mind? It’s something intangible—something you can’t see or touch. It begins with theory, but through reflection and practice, it gradually matures until it becomes an intrinsic part of who you are.
Remember, learning must go hand in hand with application. If you learn without applying it, it’s as though you’ve never learned at all. Awareness and experience are subtle—just like feelings. Let me give you a simple example: If you’ve ever been in love, you know what it’s like to sense someone’s presence. Even if they stand silently behind you, you can feel their breath and know they are watching you. That’s subtle, isn’t it?
In the same way, when you kneel before Guan Yin Bodhisattva, you can feel her presence. You sense that Guan Yin is watching over you, caring for you. This is what we call awareness and experience.
You can deeply feel the light within your heart. This means that after practising Buddhism and cultivating your mind, you experience a powerful sense of clarity—like thinking, “Now I understand.” Some people may seem a bit simple on the surface, but they might say, “Since I started practising Buddhism, I understand now. Only Guan Yin Bodhisattva can save my family. Now I have faith. No matter what happens at home, I will recite the sutras wholeheartedly and persevere.” This is the light within their heart. Without this light, they would feel hopeless, lost, and without direction or purpose in life.
Losing your sense of purpose is like driving on a steep mountain road and suddenly seeing a sign that says, ‘Wrong Way. Go Back.’ If you keep driving, you’ll go off the edge. Do you see? When practising Buddhism, you need a goal and must feel that Guan Yin Bodhisattva cares for you. If you can feel this strong light within you, this sense of “I got it,” that is what we call enlightenment or awakening. It means you’ve realised this state of mind—the true path. When you can understand the thoughts of the Bodhisattvas, you are like a Bodhisattva yourself.
It’s like understanding your child’s thoughts—it’s a key factor in knowing how to raise them well. Many mothers, for example, know what their child is thinking and come to realise, “I shouldn’t be too harsh or strict with them as they have their own challenges.” This realisation is a form of enlightenment. Once you’ve understood this truth, you can forgive your child and treat them with kindness.
Awareness and experience can change, but awakening is much harder to change. For example, after reciting a sutra today, you might feel good or not so good—that feeling will change. But once you’ve awakened to a truth, that understanding doesn’t shift easily. What does awakening mean? It means that after realising a truth, you commit to walking that path and staying on it because you know it’s the right one. That’s not something you’re likely to change. Awakening is about applying the profound theories of Buddhism in practice.
Learning the profound teachings of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas isn’t just about understanding them; you need to apply them in your daily life. Some people may speak eloquently about Buddhist theory, claiming, “Nothing can affect me; I am free from attachment.” However, the real test comes when challenges arise, and they quickly lose their composure and become restless.
For example, when your child is being difficult at home, can you remain patient? True patience comes from within, cultivated through deep understanding. If you haven’t attained this deeper insight, you won’t be able to maintain patience. Forcing yourself to hold back without true understanding will eventually affect your health, leading to heart problems or high blood pressure.
I like using real-life examples to illustrate these points. For instance, when someone tries to suppress a cough by thinking, “I must hold it in, hold it in,” they end up coughing anyway—cough, cough, cough. Why? Because they don’t understand the medical reason behind it. Life works the same way. If you want to control yourself, you must understand the underlying truth. If someone doesn’t understand the reason behind self-restraint, how can they possibly control themselves? This is what we call awakening. “Realisation-awakening” comes when your inner self and outward actions align. When practising Buddhism, both your inner world and outward behaviour must be in harmony. For example, if you appear modest outwardly, your heart must also be genuinely humble. But many people today are insincere—they greet others warmly with a smile, saying things like, “Oh, how are you? It’s been so long! I’ve missed you so much!” But as soon as they turn away, their expression changes completely. Their thoughts and actions are not aligned.
If you genuinely like someone, both your heart and behaviour should align. Pretending to like someone when you don’t is pointless—it’s better not to do it at all. At this point, some of you might think, “Yes, I’m like that. If I don’t like someone, I just don’t like them.” But let me tell you: even if you don’t like someone, you must learn to like them. Why? Because they are part of all sentient beings. Sentient beings include our parents, our children, and everything in our lives—and we are just one among them. So, why shouldn’t you like them? If you refuse to like them, it shows you are still clinging to distinctions and haven’t practised Buddhism well. Do you understand?
What does “realisation-awakening” mean? It means “I’ve realised something and come to understand it deeply. I’ve confirmed that the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, as taught by Master Lu, is truly effective, and I’ve realised this truth—now I want to practise diligently.” This is “realisation-awakening.”
Awakening is not found within, outside, or in between. So, why do we seek to attain awakening? It’s about realising the truth—not “this” truth or “that” truth, and not something located inside, outside, or in the middle—but in the understanding of an eternal, unchanging truth. For example, Guan Yin Bodhisattva is always there to help us. When we recite sutras, the Bodhisattva cares for us—this is an eternal truth. Right? We must understand that the unchanging truth in life is the cycle of formation, existence, decay, and emptiness—and birth, old age, sickness, and death. When you understand these truths, you grasp the essence of life. This is awakening.
When Siddhartha Gautama, who would later become the Buddha, was a prince, he once rode through the city and saw elderly people nearing death. Some were suffering from hunger, others from illness. Seeing their suffering made him deeply sad. The Buddha said, “How pitiful these people are! I must find a way for them to escape the pain of death. Witnessing their suffering from birth, old age, sickness, and death is unbearable.”
Eventually, the Buddha found that path: while the body may perish, the spirit and soul live on. This is the path to transcendence beyond life and death—the great teaching that the Buddha discovered.
What am I teaching you now? I’m teaching you to engage in a meaningful, noble endeavour. I’m helping you awaken to a truth—an unbreakable, eternal truth. Do birth, old age, sickness, and death ever change? Does the cycle of formation, existence, decay, and emptiness ever change? No. Were those elderly men and women old from the day they were born? Of course not. When you’re young, you need to think about growing old, and when you’re old, you need to care for the young.
The problem is that older people often dwell on how well they treated others when they were young, while younger people think, “Why is this old person treating me this way?” How do we bridge this generational gap and reconcile these differences? People spend their whole lives working hard, yet many end up with nothing—coming and going like a passing breeze. When you grow old and your health deteriorates, how does that make you feel? When you lie awake at night, troubled, you realise that everything is an illusion.
Awareness and experience arise through genuine practice, where the body and mind are in harmony. Awareness and experience involve both feeling and acceptance—this harmony can only be achieved through sincere practice.
You often hear people say things like, “I’ll fight to my last breath” or “I’m so angry I could explode.” In the end, they might say, “I’m running out of energy” or “I’m out of breath.” It’s all about qi—the flow of energy. Isn’t happiness a form of qi? Isn’t sadness a form of qi? Grief, too, is a form of qi. Our lives are governed by this flow of energy. Fortune tellers often say that life is ruled by qi, and this energy has limits. Once your qi is depleted, your time is up. That’s why people say, “His qi has run out.”
Astrologers would often predict the fate of emperors, and sometimes they would say, “Your Majesty, the dynasty’s qi has been exhausted.” This was the case with Empress Dowager Cixi, who declared, “The Qing dynasty’s qi has run out.”
However, qi is constantly changing. For example, you might feel furious at someone’s comment, but when they explain, “It wasn’t aimed at you—it was actually a compliment,” your anger can disappear instantly. Or imagine you’re overjoyed because you think you’ve won the lottery, only to be told, “Sorry, you read the numbers wrong.” In a moment, your excitement turns to disappointment. This shows how quickly qi can shift and why it plays such an important role in life.