(Minghui.org) As cultivators, we know that whenever we face something difficult, we should first look within, find our attachments and human thinking, and eliminate them so we can improve and elevate. But that doesn’t mean it’s an easy process; it might take several attempts to break through.

I felt uneasy when I heard that Lu was to be a coordinator, although I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. I put it out of my mind, but later, during a discussion, he publicly called me out and criticized me in front of everyone. I felt thoroughly humiliated. I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong. Instead thought, “How could he have such bad manners?”

Since I didn’t find my attachment, Master arranged another opportunity. During another discussion, Lu spoke to me with a flushed face and strained neck, insisting my understanding was flawed. It was clear that he was defending the main coordinator. I thought that because my perspective differed from the main coordinator’s, Lu was protecting individuals and fostering cliques. I found this repulsive—forcing uniformity of thought is a manifestation of Chinese Communist Party culture. I decided that in future gatherings, whenever Lu was present, I would keep quiet.

Seeing I still hadn’t enlightened, Master arranged another opportunity for me. Recently during a group discussion, Lu was present again. When I saw him, I said to myself: Keep quiet—this time don’t say anything.

But the main coordinator insisted I speak first. I intended to be brief, yet somehow I found myself speaking at length. I described how, in the past, I’d led other practitioners to introduce Falun Dafa and exchange insights. I’d organized a large-scale Fa conference that had a significant impact. I also mentioned that when coordinators share, they should speak plainly, avoid empty rhetoric, cherish fellow practitioners, respect them, and not use words to intimidate others.

But, my unspoken message was clear to everyone: I was “pulling rank” and subtly criticizing Lu, implying: What can you really accomplish? In the past, our events were grand and impactful—what were you doing back then? The main coordinator treats me with respect, and discusses things with me. You’ve only been here a few days and already you dare to lecture me? Be humble—we’re all cultivators. Who’s going to indulge whom? Although these thoughts weren’t that strong in my mind, they were still there.

In the days after this exchange I felt a persistent heaviness, oppression, and discomfort in my heart—as if something were weighing me down. Then I remembered what another practitioner told me, “When I listen to you talk it sounds cold and unkind, as though your heart isn’t truly connected with everyone else. As a veteran cultivator, you should listen more and speak less.” These were truly wise words. I felt deep gratitude toward this practitioner. I calmed down and looked within. I saw I had a combative mindset, resentment, an inability to accept criticism, a condescending attitude, and arrogance.

As I kept looking inward, I suddenly realized that my underlying issues were resentment and jealousy. I was surprised—I always focused on eliminating jealousy, thinking I didn’t have this attachment. Now I see that not only do I have it, but it’s quite strong.

I realized that when I bring up my past activities, it’s to show off my experience, to prove I’m better and more capable than others, and that others can’t provoke me. In truth, back then, I was merely doing things, without truly cultivating my heart. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be causing Master such concern today.

As a veteran practitioner, I feel ashamed. I told myself: I must support Lu and set an example. After I identified this attachment, I felt it trembling and trying to hide. I sent forth a strong thought to eliminate it. For several days straight, I continued sending forth righteous thoughts to completely eliminate it. My heart no longer feels blocked—instead I feel much lighter.

It took several attempts, but I finally found my deep-seated resentment and jealousy. Thank you, Master, for not giving up on me, for continuing to remind me, for correcting me every step on my path of cultivation.