3 months ago, when I received this email from my Taiwan client, there was this feeling of bittersweetness.
I was happy because this was the client I did a Zoom consultation last June. He sent me this email on the one-year anniversary date of our Zoom call, to express his gratitude. How sweet!
On the other hand, I could relate to the emotional turmoil he felt at that point in his life.
His experience was my past. It also took me a very long time to walk out from my gloominess.
Once, I analysed the Bazi of a very young lady. She was meticulously jotting down notes as I spoke.
Her detailed note-taking skills easily took the top place among my clients.
Halfway through, I noticed her right hand was trembling slightly. I thought it was due to the cold draft from the air conditioning, so I asked if she needed a shawl.
She replied that it was her anxiety disorder acting up.
“I was not fierce or strict with you. What caused your sudden anxiety?”
“I…ever since the pandemic disrupted my plans, I have been in this state of anxiety. I kept feeling useless. All my classmates are progressing expect me. I have nothing to show for and my life is in a mess. I am very anxious. What if I continue to be like this? What am I going to do?”
As she spoke, her eyes turned red and tears started rolling down like a broken strand of pearl necklace scattering onto the ground.
Oh dear! I am beginning to wonder if I have a tear-jerker face or a heart-tormenting voice. Why do my clients, regardless of gender and age, North South or East West, seem to cry easily when they see me?
I grabbed a piece of tissue and handed it to her.
“Ain’t I here already? You came to me for a roadmap and you are very lucky to see me so soon. Look at how precise and neat your notes are! Many of my clients aren’t even on par with you. My job today is to give you answers. If I didn’t have the confidence, I would not have taken up your request. Now that I did, that means there is still hope. If you follow my instructions, you will see things looking up very soon.”
On another occasion, a mother in her forties came to me for her son’s Bazi consultation.
As I was analysing, the mother nodded her head in agreement. The next thing I know, she started weeping loudly.
I turned to look at her husband, who had been silent all along. Did I say something wrong? And hello, your wife was crying. Why weren’t you gentleman enough to give her a tissue paper?
“I am a useless mother. I am incompetent. I do not know how to teach my son well. I love my son very much. But many times, I do not know what to do and thus I flare up at him and speak harshly. I always regret afterwards. I tried enduring but it still ends badly!”
I did not interrupt her and waited for her cries to soften, before speaking gently, “I’m here! I’m already sitting in front of you. You are looking at me now and that means help is here. You know that you are incompetent, so you went looking for solutions. That means you are willing to learn how to be a better mother!”
I handed a piece of tissue and said, “Don’t cry anymore, otherwise, other patrons will think that it’s because I refuse to lend you money.”
Since young, we have been using external possessions to define whether our lives are worth liking.
The family we are born into, our looks, health, body shape, intellect, talents, and then we move on to compare our academics, friendships, career, wealth, marriage and children.
If we are lacking in the area we covet most, we grade our lives as a failure.
I think this is the biggest problem in societal education. Our parents and teachers categorized us that way. Whether we as children are worthy of their love and bragging, depends on the few points above too.
Thus over time, we can only use the term “success” to determine whether we are of value, for some people, whether they should live on to take their next breath.
I very much prefer the definition in Buddhism. We are all Buddhas. Each and every sentient being in the six realms has a Buddha nature in them. But they got lost momentarily and fell into the endless wheel of reincarnation.
Yet, because of our Buddha nature, we have an unlimited source of potential. Every one of us has a very powerful strength inside us. It is just waiting for us to meet an accomplished teacher, so that we have the tools to explore and understand it:
And this strength that we are born with is the capital for us to transform and establish our own destiny.
If life is smooth-sailing, we would never want to leave and would mistake this mortal realm for Pureland. Thus, we all need sufferings, to realise that we should break out of this hell of a place. There has to be a better world somewhere. So how we get there?
We should, in fact, be grateful for all the setbacks and failures we have. Because it is from these sufferings, our wisdom arise:
No single Bazi is perfect. Every failure and lack we experience is the best arrangement for us, so that the heart of renunciation will arise in us and we will return to where we came from.