(Minghui.org) Minghui.org is inviting article submissions for the upcoming online 23rd China Fahui. I would like to discuss the mindset and initial approach to consider when composing an article.
Based on past experience, as the deadline for the online China Fahui (Experience Sharing Conference) approaches, we receive a large number of submissions in the final week. Practitioners who convert articles to electronic form and edit submissions often work overtime, sometimes around the clock, to prepare the papers in the allotted time.
Although the large backlog of submissions demands more effort and time from practitioners, the main issue lies in many articles failing to meet the required standard in content and quality.
These articles expose many issues. Some practitioners worry about being left out, so they hastily jot down a few lines, believing they have fulfilled their obligation. Others feel that submitting anything is better than nothing at all. Some practitioners even praise those who have collected stacks of articles, suggesting that they are well-cultivated and competent. Overall, the motives behind such articles are often not pure.
What should be an auspicious and solemn Fahui can be marred by impurities arising from practitioners’ attachments.
Every practitioner involved in the Fahui, whether as a collector, editor, proofreader, or typist, should ask themselves: Have I cultivated myself well? Is my mindset pure?
Before writing anything down, we should look back at our cultivation paths and reflect on our achievements, as well as the shortcomings and regrets we need to address and correct. We should approach our cultivation with rigor, compare ourselves with one another, learn from each other, encourage one another, and improve collectively so we can better fulfill our vows.
Over the years, we have worked together to contribute articles to the China Fahui. Some high-quality articles were published during the Fahui, while others were published in installments. Practitioners who participated with a mindset of jointly fulfilling our cultivation mission wrote, compiled, edited, and typed. This is a rare cultivation opportunity offered by Master, and a practical training process in our cultivation.
Some diligent practitioners cannot write because of limited education. In such cases, practitioners with writing skills write the articles on their behalf. To ensure the authenticity of the articles, the writer generally preserves the original content of the practitioner’s oral account.
Once the article is drafted, it is reviewed alongside the oral account to check for errors. When an editor needs to remove a passage, they discuss it with the author and explain why. They also use this opportunity to discuss how practitioners’ writing should avoid sensationalism and flowery language, emphasizing authenticity and focusing on the essence of the experience.
For incisive articles that include cultural elements, patient discussions with the author are essential.
What a person writes reflects who they are. A practitioner’s solid cultivation foundation shows in their writing, and their cultivation level and xinxing are also clearly evident in their words. Any resentment, blame, or tendency to look outward for answers will be apparent in their writing.
During the writing process, practitioners can reflect anew on every thought and intention. They may uncover issues they had previously overlooked. They then continue writing and cultivating, looking inward and refining themselves until the draft is complete.
After submitting their articles, practitioners with the right mindset often feel they have earnestly relived the hardships and conflicts they experienced, gaining new insights, spiritual elevation, and personal growth. However, those who treat writing as a task or simply want to avoid being left out do not experience the genuine transformation that comes from truly cultivating themselves.
I will share a story. During the call for articles for World Falun Dafa Day, a practitioner felt her article was strong and impressive. She even dreamed that it would generate a powerful positive response among the public.
However, the article was not accepted. The author asked the local editor, “Could you take a look at my article and tell me what issues you find?”
The editor replied, “This article uses sharp language, includes too many comments, and is overly general without enough detail. An article should genuinely reflect a practitioner’s experience. Writing is also a cultivation process. We need to consider what to write, how to write, how to revise it, and why. Additionally, we should approach everyday issues as part of this cultivation. Writing should not be just for the sake of writing.”
Later, the article was published as a regular daily article on Minghui.org. As the local editor said, the Minghui editor significantly toned down the sharp language and removed much of the commentary. The revised article was plain and concise, read smoothly and naturally, and gave readers a sense of clarity and purity.
This experience has inspired me. Cultivation demands discipline, seriousness, and strictness.
Indeed, articles written by practitioners are vastly different from those submitted to ordinary writing contests. Ordinary people seeking rankings and honors may resort to exaggeration, fabrication, or even paying for a ghostwriter. Practitioners, however, strive for authenticity and refrain from adding human attachments, like showing off, to their writing. Therefore, all practitioners who participate in the call for articles are cultivating authenticity in the process.
For practitioners involved in compiling submissions, did you review the requirements in the call for articles? Did you read the submissions carefully? If you identified any issues, did you have an open and honest discussion with the author?
Some practitioners, with no idea what the requirements are, drafted an article of about 100 Chinese characters simply because of the constant reminders and encouragement from the practitioners around them.
Others submitted a dozen articles at once, each just over 100 Chinese characters long, with nearly identical formatting, content, and wording. Even the titles were almost identical, differing only in the authors’ pen names.
Some content was inappropriate. For example, when clarifying the truth to people, stating that if someone agrees to withdraw from the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and its affiliated organizations, a simple nod or smile is enough to indicate their consent. This is not true.
Other articles are long-winded and empty, leaving very little content after editing. These low-quality articles create a dilemma for the practitioner compiling submissions. It doesn’t make sense to include these articles, but if we refuse to, it may seem like we are preventing the authors from participating in the Fahui.
These issues have persisted for years. Last year, practitioners finally asked: How should we handle such articles in the future? What should we do about the massive backlog of papers that do not meet the requirements? Converting articles to electronic form is physically and mentally exhausting for practitioners .
Since writing an article is part of our cultivation, we must approach the task with a pure heart and carefully document our experiences. Once you write an article, many other practitioners will work on it to finalize the submission.
Furthermore, some practitioners unintentionally cater to others’ desires; they may feel different from others or believe they are cultivating particularly well. They may try to boss other practitioners around or form cliques. Because of inappropriate words, actions, and thoughts, they can create divisions and friction among fellow practitioners.
All practitioners who participate should recognize that we must not approach such a sacred task with strong attachments, nor hinder our own cultivation.
From this year’s call for articles, many practitioners have recognized that sharing experiences is not merely listing events. Rather, it involves reflecting on how we have come to understand the principles of the Fa at different levels during our cultivation, using those understandings to guide our practice, thereby rejecting the old force’s arrangement and steadfastly following the path arranged by Master, transforming from human to divine.
When writing about our journey from human to divine, how can we not take it seriously?
These are my personal views, please kindly point out anything that is inappropriate.