(Minghui.org) Greetings, Master! Greetings, fellow practitioners!
I began practicing Falun Dafa in 2001 after receiving my graduate degree, and have now been practicing for 25 years. I currently hold a managerial position at a national-level defense science and technology research and development institution. I feel truly fortunate to be a Dafa disciple. I have come to understand the meaning of life and have experienced the lightness and well-being that come from being free of illness. My gratitude toward Master is beyond words: I can only strive to cultivate diligently and do the three things well. Below, I would like to share my recent cultivation insights to report to Master and share with fellow practitioners.
I thought how wonderful it would be if I could study the Fa with a focused mind every day and memorize Zhuan Falun by heart so that I could assimilate to the Fa.
Early last year, I heard a series on Minghui Radio about memorizing the Fa. Fellow practitioners shared various methods for memorizing the Fa, their personal journeys in persisting in memorizing the Fa by heart, and the positive changes—both physical and mental—that they experienced as a result. I was deeply moved and made a vow to memorize Zhuan Falun. I found that memorizing one sentence at a time—mastering one paragraph before moving on to the next, rather than having to start from the very beginning each time—worked best for me. I decided to use this approach for my first attempt at memorizing Zhuan Falun; I have lost count of how many times I have memorized the entire book. To memorize the Fa effectively, one must first let go of any sense of impatience or haste. One’s mind cannot wander; the main consciousness must remain clear and focused—only then can a passage be successfully memorized. Through the continuous process of memorizing the Fa, I have come to understand deeper principles of the Fa, experienced improvement in my character, and reached higher spiritual realms. I have gradually learned to look inward whenever I encounter conflicts, to hold my words and actions to a strict standard, to cast aside the interference of negative thoughts, and to view and handle matters with righteous thoughts.
One day, while memorizing a passage in Zhuan Falun regarding the attachment of jealousy, I realized that I harbored a hidden, unfair sense of jealousy within me—an attachment I knew I had to eliminate.
One day, after returning home from work and taking a shower, I was in the middle of drying my hair when my daughter suddenly shouted from behind me: “Time to eat!’ It gave me such a start that I said to her: “You really scared me!” She just laughed and walked away. I felt a bit annoyed, thinking to myself, “Couldn’t she at least have said sorry?” Later, after the whole family had finished dinner, I was in the kitchen tidying up the dishes while my daughter was doing laundry on the back balcony. My wife made a playful remark to her, and when my daughter came into the kitchen, she flicked her dripping-wet hands toward my wife. She missed her target, though, and the water landed right on my face. My anger reached its peak, and in the heat of the moment, I threw the dishcloth I was holding in her direction. My daughter was terrified—she had never seen her father so angry before. I said to her, sternly, “You didn't apologize to me; I won't forgive you.” Later, she wrote me a short note to apologize. It said, in essence: “Sorry, Dad! I shouldn’t have scared you or splashed water on you. I won’t do it again, and I’ll make sure to remind myself not to play such pranks in the future.”
Once the household chores were done, I calmed down and looked inward. It was strange—at work, even when faced with unreasonable demands from a boss or colleagues, I never get angry; I’m able to handle things calmly and rationally. Yet, two minor incidents at home caused me to lose my composure. Upon reflection, I identified two attachments. The first was an attachment to reputation—I felt that, as the father, I shouldn’t be treated with such disrespect; it would be embarrassing if others saw it. The second was an anxiety about whether I had raised my daughter well—a concern rooted in the traditional notion that “if a child is not well-taught, it is the father’s fault.” In reality, my daughter was just being a bit mischievous; she certainly didn’t mean any harm. That evening, before going to bed, I called my daughter over and said, “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you.” Realizing I hadn’t acted in accordance with the teachings in Zhuan Falun, I picked up the book and read this passage to her:
“Those who have bad tempers might think that this is too hard for them to do. But I think they simply need to work on their tempers, as practitioners should be able to stay composed. Some people lose their tempers when disciplining their children and get all worked up. But it needn’t be like that. You shouldn’t genuinely get angry. You have to be calm and rational for your child to be reared well” (The Ninth Talk, Zhuan Falun)
I then told her, “From now on, Daddy will constantly remind himself to take the Fa as his teacher. And please, don’t go around making jokes like that anymore!” She nodded happily and went off to bed.
In January of this year, I was responsible for coordinating the logistics and security team for one of the Shen Yun performances during its Taiwan tour. The day before the show, at nearly 10:00 p.m., I received word that the venue management had received two threatening letters. As a precautionary measure, they requested that the organizers complete a security plan by the end of the day.
Faced with this task and the intense time pressure, I initially struggled with human notions and negative thoughts: “How could the venue management expect us to put together a full security plan in such a short amount of time?” Realizing that the deadline had to be met, I set those thoughts aside and reached out to the overall security coordinator for Taiwan to see if there were any past examples I could use as a reference to speed up the drafting process.
The coordinator informed me that there were no such precedents. He offered two suggestions: first, I could explain to the venue management that other venues in Taiwan had received similar threats in the past—none of which ever resulted in any actual harm—and that, historically, no security plans had ever been required. Alternatively, if a plan absolutely had to be written, he suggested that a certain fellow practitioner might be well-suited for the task.
After hanging up, I thanked him for his input, but given the urgency, I decided to take on the responsibility myself. I also asked the deputy coordinator of the security team to handle communications within the emergency task group—which included representatives from the venue, the police, and our own team. As time ticked away, I still had no clear idea of how to draft the document. I searched online for templates or examples, but found nothing relevant.
I urged myself to calm my mind, reminding myself that these threatening letters were part of the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) transnational repression aimed at disrupting Shen Yun—thereby hindering Master’s efforts to save sentient beings. I knew that when faced with such difficulties, I should take the Fa as my guide. In truth, this was the first time the venue management had ever received such threats; they were likely under immense pressure, fearing that they might be held liable should any incident occur. Furthermore, the security measures and the security plan—decided upon jointly by the venue, the police, and our team—were entirely reasonable and consistent with the norms of ordinary society. I realized I needed to let go of my aversion to trouble and my anxiety about running out of time. Instead, I approached this disruptive challenge with righteous thoughts, taking it as an opportunity to improve in cultivation.
Remarkably, once I let go of my attachments, the wisdom needed to draft the security and evacuation plan flowed into my mind effortlessly. I completed the document by 11:52 p.m. that same night and sent it to our overall coordinator.
Several fellow practitioners were initially puzzled by the requirement to conduct security checks of audience members. I explained to them, “The venue management received threats indicating that individuals might purchase tickets to enter the premises with the intent to carry out knife attacks or throw petrol bombs onto the stage; consequently, they felt compelled to implement certain precautionary measures. Just this week, while on a business trip to a private company, a female security guard asked to inspect my bag to ensure I wasn’t carrying any dangerous items.” I reassured them, “Please don’t worry! The coordinator will arrange for female practitioners to handle the security checks across multiple entry points, ensuring minimal disruption to the audience’s arrival. If I were an audience member, I would actually be grateful to the organizers—it would allow me to enjoy a world-class performance with peace of mind, knowing I don’t have to fear incidents like the recent knife and petrol bomb attacks on the Taipei Metro.” Hearing this, the practitioners who had been uneasy were able to set aside their concerns.
Although the venue management set very high standards for security, I was deeply moved to see so many practitioners selflessly and quietly using righteous thoughts to steer the situation toward a positive outcome. As the final performance concluded and the audience began to leave, the venue director—whose expression had previously been quite tense—finally broke into a radiant smile. She congratulated us on the resounding success of the show and thanked us for our cooperation.
Through this experience of thwarting transnational repression, I gained a profound understanding of Master’s teaching:
“Under the tests that the human mind is put to, a state will come about in a cultivator when understandings born of both divine and human thoughts are present and collide. When human thinking gains the upper hand, that person heads toward humanness; when divine thinking and a person’s righteous thoughts gain the upper hand, he heads toward godhood.” (“Teaching the Fa at the 2005 San Francisco Fa Conference”)
Shortly after graduating from a materials research institute, I embarked on my path of spiritual cultivation. Faced with various life challenges and choices, I could have pursued a high-paying position in the tech industry, though it would have entailed long working hours. Knowing that my purpose in this life—and beyond—is to be a Dafa disciple and assist Master in the Fa-rectification, I resolutely chose to work at a defense-related research institution, which offered a more predictable, regular schedule. Through practicing Dafa, I learned to treat my colleagues with sincerity, kindness, and forbearance. Furthermore, Dafa opened my wisdom and intelligence, enabling me to efficiently overcome critical technical hurdles in research and development. I successfully developed numerous new products and fulfilled national defense objectives, earning the deep trust of both my superiors and colleagues. Consequently, I advanced steadily in my career—from an entry-level position to a junior supervisor, then a deputy supervisor, and finally to my current role as a supervisor.
Given my outstanding professional performance, my superior encouraged me to consider pursuing a doctoral degree in my spare time to enhance my academic credentials, which could open doors to higher-level management roles in the future. Recognizing how precious my spare time is, I reminded myself of these words from Master:
“In history’s past, you brought to humankind the splendor it should have; in history’s present, Dafa has bestowed upon you the mission of saving all sentient beings; in history’s future, everything of yours that is pure and righteous will be what ensures that the colossal firmament has formation and stasis, but not destruction.”(“Congratulatory Statement to the New York Fa Conference,” Essentials for Further Advancement III)
Looking back, from the early days of starting to practice cultivation, I have actively participated in clarifying the truth online—serving in various capacities, including manual truth-clarification, technical support, programming, and coordination, to my current focus on direct, verbal truth-clarification, which has now become an integral part of my daily life. Over the past 25 years, I have come to deeply cherish this hard-won path of cultivation during the Fa-rectification period. I do the three things diligently, ensuring I do not fall short of Master’s painstaking efforts to save us.
As for whether I might attain a higher management position in the future, as a cultivator, I let things take their natural course without overthinking it. What I must seize now is this incredibly precious time—using a heart of compassion to clarify the truth online to more precious Chinese people. When one Chinese person is saved, the vast number of lives connected to them are also saved; what a sacred and honorable mission this is! Whenever I share the truth with Chinese netizens and they express a willingness to withdraw from the CCP and its affiliated organizations, I heshi [press one’s palms together in front of one’s chest in a gesture of respect] and express my heartfelt gratitude to Master: another life has been saved.
Please kindly point out anything wrong in my experience sharing.
Thank you, Master, and fellow practitioners!
(Presented at the 2026 Taiwan Fa Conference)