Reflect on One's Own Faults, Forgive Others' Failings
On a bus traveling from Beijing to Hebei, a small incident suddenly brought the Dharma home to me. I was seated when an older woman boarded and, brusquely ordering me to move further in, took my seat. Roughly two-thirds of the seats were empty at the time. Seeing her rudeness, anger stirred in my heart; I did not lose my temper, but I did not offer the seat either, merely shifting my leg so she could squeeze into the inner spot. Afterward I wondered, how had I fallen prey again to the transgression of anger? It occurred to me that if Dharma Master Chanxing or Dharma Master Xianshu of Longquan Monastery had faced this, they would likely have smiled, bowed with hands pressed together, and yielded their seat to this seemingly unreasonable woman, who might then have felt a twinge of shame and reflected on her own discourtesy.
My teacher, Venerable Master Xuecheng, often says: do not criticize others, do not watch for their faults, and only look for your own mistakes. It suddenly dawned on me that the reason I have not attained a state like Master Xianshu's is that my practice is not yet deep enough; I cannot yet examine my own faults and forgive the failings of others. Only yesterday did I learn that more than ten years ago I had already crossed paths with Master Xianshu, then a layman, on the Tianya Miscellaneous Talks forum. I had not imagined that after ten years the man who had once been a businessman and writer would have become an eminent monk. It is lamentable that I myself have not advanced an inch in personal cultivation.
My so-called compassion is only skin-deep. I have not truly sympathized that all beings' actions arise from karma and habitual tendencies beyond their control, and so I cannot wholeheartedly feel for them or help them toward liberation. Thus I am forever watching the faults of others, even the faults of my own family. All along I have thought myself impressive simply because I have read a few more books, imagining my judgments more correct than other people's, never realizing that the more knowledge one acquires, the greater one's arrogance. After reflecting, I suddenly grasped the vast gulf between worldly Dharma and transcendental Dharma, and I gained a new understanding of much of what I had learned before. My mind grew clear, and an unheard-of openness let me lay down my prejudices against every person and every idea. I now know that for the rest of my life I should correct myself, not others. This is truly contemplative prajna and real-entity prajna, whereas most of what I had previously studied was merely literary prajna good for talk.
Forgive me, my relatives and friends. In the past I did not know gentleness or deference, and my words and deeds hurt you; it was all because I lived in delusion. Especially my wife and child, whom I was always finding fault with; I even harbored resentment toward them, disregarding their feelings and real needs. For years I have gone my own way and done many things I ought not to have done to them. I am deeply grateful to my teacher, Venerable Xuecheng, for providing such an environment for study; I am grateful to the monks and lay practitioners of Longquan Monastery for setting an example for someone as dull as I; and I am grateful to the older woman who stirred up my anger. It was you all who finally enabled me to awaken to even a trace of the Dharma, and that trace alone let I once again transcend myself.
May I practice steadily for the rest of my days, exhausting past karma and attaining liberation. One's own faults are like a mountain; even spending a whole lifetime one may not fully remove them, so how can one have the standing to watch the faults of others? Precisely because one's own faults are mountainous, one should meet others' deeds with nondiscriminating tolerance. In the world of the Dharma, there is no one beyond forgiveness. Once this is understood, resentment toward everything falls away.
Originally written on May 14, 2015