
- Book 31 - The Flying Carpet of the East
- By Grand Master Sheng-yen Lu
- Translated by Shan Tung Hsu
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Chapter 24 - The Great World Of Silence
On the other side of the noise in our lives is the Great World
of Silence. While we are sitting near the ocean we listen to the
waves pounding the shore. Yet beneath this is silence. Most people
are not aware of this aspect of silence. They don't believe it exists.
Although it is the silent world, it does exist. As sure as there
is day and night, this other world exists! There is a material world
and a spiritual world. The material civilization is progressing
rapidly; there is a great change in the silent world too.
When I meditate in this Great Silence, all troubles go away. Life
and death no longer are real. There is no feeling of loneliness.
History becomes short, and there are wisdom stars everywhere. I
feel I can reach out my hand to touch the stars.
Once I traveled into space. I allowed my body to float up. I ascended
through layers of clouds to another world. Celestial beings welcomed
me. Flowers bloomed everywhere. The peoples' bodies were wonderfully
fragrant. Nature's colors were different; all beautiful and bright.
"Where am I?" I asked one celestial being.
"This is the Great World of Silence," he answered.
"Do I know anybody here?"
Then I met my acquaintance. His form had changed, yet his heart
was still familiar to me.
"Uncle Tzu-chih! You are here!"
"Lian Shen! You've come here too!"
"No. No. I still have to return."
"Well then hurry and return!"
"No, Uncle Tzu-chih, I don't mean that. I'm still alive, you
know. I still live in the human world."
"Oh! Oh! I understand. You can travel beyond your body."
"Is there anyone else I know who travels here?"
"Yes, there are some. But not many people can leave their
bodies. Some visit here in their dreams, but their consciousness
is not very clear and their forms are not definite; just like steam
in a tea kettle. The dreamers don't stay long. Sometimes I'd like
to remind them of some thing, but when they wake up they never remember."
"Do you miss the human world?"
"No. Once you go back there it's difficult to return here,
you know."
When Uncle Tzu-chih was in the human world he was a waste paper
collector. His name, Tze-chih, means printed paper. He was a Buddhist,
yet he spent his days with garbage. His heart was, and is, very
pure. Every time he picked up papers with letters printed on them
he burned them. He was aware that the knowledge, represented by
the printed words, came from the saints. Burning was a way to keep
the knowledge pure. He advised people always to respect printed
paper. Once he picked up lots of lost money. He took it to the police
and refused a gift from the people who lost it. He often donated
anonymously. He chanted to Buddha, never stopping. When he died
he didn't have a dime left.
Without anyone knowing, he was able to help in the deliverance
of many people. We met three times when he was alive and talked
easily. Before he died he reminded me to take care of his "students"
so that they could return to the Great World of Silence.
I hadn't expected the chance to see him again.
"Ying-chen (one of Tzu-chih's students) has left the spiritual
path. I am sorry to see this happen," said Uncle Tzu-chih.
"Oh! That pure and innocent little girl?"
"Yes. I observed her. She's lost the purity and innocence
of her soul."
"I will look for her to see if I can help her." I said.
"Please do."
Fifteen minutes later I woke up.
The second evening I was standing in front of Pai-li Night Club.
I was alone and, silently, I watched the night club sign flashing.
A limousine stopped in front of the club. From the car emerged a
woman with a long white dress. She was smoking a cigarette. A gentleman
was with her. Holding her around the waist, he escorted her into
the club.
Then I heard an announcer say loudly, "Miss Lu-Lu has arrived."
"Yes. Miss Ying-chen has changed," I thought. "She
no longer sells lottery tickets in the street. Her clothes used
to be so plain and simple."
This woman looked like a prostitute.
"Ying-chen," I called to her.
She turned and seemed not to recognize me. I was afraid I'd called
to the wrong person. She wore artificial eyelashes. Her look had
changed.
"I am Lu Sheng-yen, friend of Uncle Tzu-chih."
"Lu Sheng-yen! Oh, you are the one who is famous for spiritual
readings! Great! Do a reading for me! Let's see when I will become
famous and make lots of money!"
"You don't remember me?"
"I do! I do! You are Uncle Tze-chih's friend. You are the
famous author of spiritual books. Even you, like all men, come to
the night club. All crows are dark."
"Me! No, no, no."
"You needn't deny it. Life's like this. You don't have to
pretend you are a saint. Why don't I cancel two time slots? You
can do a psychic reading for me."
"Ying-chen, . . . "
"No! Don't call me Ying-chen: I am Lu-lu now."
The band started playing the blues. The lights were dimmed. Lu-lu
came toward me like a white shadow. I smelled her makeup. I left
in a hurry.
On the way home I thought about the difficulties that arise because
of our entanglements in the physical world.
I prayed for her.
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