Greetings Revered Master. Greetings Everyone. I'm a practitioner from Washington, DC. I attained the Fa about 3-1/2 years ago by following a spiritual path that led me into many different directions. That journey is not part of what I would like to share today, beyond saying that I am eternally and inexpressibly grateful that our beloved Shifu (Teacher) saved me from a life of confusion and disillusion.

Since October, I have been one of the coordinators of a website that was established to help Westerners understand the truth about Falun Gong, the true nature of the Chinese government, and the insane persecution that we oppose in everything that we do.

I started working on the website after a practitioner asked if I would give a writing workshop on a conference call. This particular practitioner is not someone I can easily say "no" to, so of course I did the workshop. Somehow, though, before I knew what had hit me, I had agreed to help coordinate the writing team. Another practitioner had taken on that task and she didn't exactly welcome me with open arms. She was several continents away at the time, so communicating was difficult. Even when she was back on these shores, we still experienced a great deal of interference in our communications for several weeks. But because we are practitioners, we were able to talk honestly about what was going on and ultimately broke through our limitations and various levels of interference.

The Los Angeles Fahui was when many of our writers and editors met in person for the first time. I felt it was a great opportunity to put faces to the names I had been sharing with through emails and conference calls and to learn more about my fellow writers and editors.

Through various miscommunications and misunderstandings, just a week or so before the Fahui, the editing team had been challenged by the prospect of assembling a print version for review in Los Angeles. There was confusion about whether or not we would have to add pulling together a print version to the daunting work of keeping the website going on a daily basis. Our core team of active writers and editors is pretty small and we all felt taxed to the limit; none of us felt we had the time to work on a print version at the last minute. As it turned out, other practitioners were enlisted to work on it instead, although our translation team coordinator had had to work overtime gathering articles.

The mock-up of the print version provided an opportunity for some of our editors and writers to get together with editors of a Chinese website and other practitioners who happened by as we discussed the content, audience and layout. After reviewing the paper, several of us shared our understandings about the significance of targeting Westerners. We also discussed the differences between American and Chinese styles, as well as some of the miscommunication we experienced.

I was very moved by the hearts of the Chinese practitioners who had been doing similar work for quite some time. They were admirably clear and solid in what they were doing and helped me to deepen my commitment to the work and to expand my own thinking about working on the print version.

However, soon after the L.A. Fahui, our coordinating team experienced an upheaval. One of the key coordinators was asked to take on a different role. Someone else would be the main project coordinator instead.

The transition happened in an awkward way that created many questions in the minds of our teammates; the confusion lasted for weeks. I found the episode disruptive and viewed it as interference that had to be negated. Both of the practitioners brought many needed abilities to our work and each in their way inspired and encouraged others, myself included, to put forth a lot of effort. I tried to remain unmoved and supportive and I urged them to work through their differences. At the same time, I recalled Teacher's Fa that when you witness an argument between two practitioners you should look inside for your own attachments. While these two were not openly arguing, they were clearly at a place where they could not share coordinating responsibilities. It helped me to see clearly my own shortcomings, especially holding tightly to my own point of view and seeking fame through Dafa work.

Before the New York Fahui, another practitioner and I planned to present a writing workshop. We'd noticed that while many Western practitioners wanted to be a part of this project, they seemed a bit insecure about their abilities. There are dozens of people on our writing team list, but very few write original content on a regular basis. We also felt other Dafa projects could benefit from the workshop. Our previous experience with doing a workshop in Los Angeles met with interference but was well received, so we felt we were on the right track.

I traveled to New York with other DC practitioners and we stayed at a hotel in New Jersey. We had gone back to our hotel after a busy day of activities in the city. Three of us were headed back into the city when we ran into horrendous traffic -- typical for New York, but not something we had factored into our schedule. It quickly became clear that I would be late for the workshop. This induced all sorts of attachments in me but I tried to remain calm.

My calm was challenged when I called my workshop partner to let him know I was stuck in traffic and he should get started without me. As it turned out, he too, was running late and had not copied all of the materials we needed -- and, he was headed to a completely different meeting room in another part of town. Somehow, two different locations for the workshop had been arranged and publicized. Yikes! How could this have happened? We are both super-responsible, rational and organized people; what in the world was going on?

There wasn't much time to figure out what had gone wrong because I got a call from a practitioner who said the room where I was headed was locked and there was no one around with a key. After a few more increasingly frantic calls, my partner and I decided he should go to his location to see who showed up and that I'd go to the other one just in case anyone was still there.

So many thoughts were swirling around in my head. I fought back feelings of frustration and personal disappointment. My attachment to my reputation and self-image flared up, big time. I'm supposed to be so together, so reliable and well-organized. I had worked so hard. I had such good intentions. I had let everyone down. What would people think of me after such a confused situation? I also felt bad that I had inconvenienced one of the practitioners I was traveling with. He was late for his own meeting, but was going way out of his way to drop the two of us off.

We finally arrived at the workshop location. I felt really despondent but tried not to show it. I'm not very good at hiding my feelings, though. Seeing the state I was in, the practitioner who was coming to the workshop with me tried to cheer me up. She said being late wasn't my fault and that what I was trying to do was such a good thing. I appreciated her thoughtfulness, but my mind was on my disappointment and what lied ahead. I just knew everyone would have left to do other things thinking how unorganized we must be if we can't even arrange for the workshop to be in one place and for the hotel room to be open.

Imagine my surprise and delight to get to the workshop -- 45 minutes late -- and find a room full of practitioners discussing what it takes to work on the project. Someone had been found to open the room and another practitioner had stepped forward to conduct the meeting. I was so relieved and so moved I wanted to cry. The room was hot and stuffy, but there they all sat, learning from each other. My heart was filled with the utmost respect and regard for practitioners. I had been thinking mostly about myself and my reputation and thinking about practitioners in ordinary ways. I didn't expect to find anyone there; I thought surely they had gone off to do other things and were thinking I had wasted their time. But there they were, about 30 or so people jammed into a small, hot room. They welcomed me to the meeting. There were no bad feelings, just a sincere desire to learn from each other and to hear what I had to say about writing. As a result of that meeting, two of our tech people are writing more and we have a new polisher or two.

When I think about the challenges we have faced trying to get a print version of the website off the ground, I think of Teacher's words in "Teaching the Fa at the 2004 Chicago Conference:"

Wow. That passage causes me to pause every time I read it. It fundamentally clarifies what it means to negate the old forces' arrangements. Our project overall seems to encounter one tribulation after another; clearly not our Teacher's arrangements. I have felt, at times, that the bad gods (dark minions) have been attacking us: we have faced dissension in the ranks; veteran practitioners have experienced serious bouts of sickness karma; there have been car accidents, lost or broken cell phones, lost jobs and burnout. Now I wonder if having those thoughts about the dark minions has allowed the old forces' arrangements to have a stronger impact.

On the path to getting out the print version, I have not done well in negating and getting rid of all of the old forces' things. We have had several test versions, working with a very busy typesetting team. At the same time, we have had to keep the website active, reorganize the various coordinating teams, and figure out how to deal with particularly troubled practitioners in a compassionate way. At times, I have found myself quarrelsome, critical, and stuck on a high standard of "professionalism" for the print version.

Our initial audience for the print version includes an influential group of people who read prestigious newspapers and journals. These people are important to reach because they are targets of the Chinese government's anti-Falun Gong propaganda. I feel, perhaps too strongly, that our publication should look as professional as the other publications they read. Perhaps it is a mistaken notion, but I feel that if it does not have strong content and a professional layout then we will lose the opportunity to reach our audience. I am conflicted because I feel everything we do should reflect well upon Dafa. At the same time, I understand the pace of Fa rectification won't wait for the "perfect" product.

We lost our momentum for several weeks, but we are back on track now with the encouragement and support of many of our fellow practitioners. I feel the project overall is becoming more of a "one-body" project every day.

There are many, many stories to share about this project, far too many for this one article. In closing, though, I want to talk about the importance of doing the exercises. There are many practitioners who diligently practice the exercises for two hours each day. I would like to say that I am one of them -- but I'm not. I find I can spend hour after hour on the computer editing, writing, and replying to emails; and, of course, there are conference calls, planning, and family life to attend to. While I read or listen to at least one lecture each day, almost without fail, I lag behind in doing the exercises. I know there are many practitioners like me. We work really hard, study the Fa and try to improve our xinxing.

Yes, you can gain merit and save more sentient beings by doing more Dafa work, but you cannot transform your innate body that way. We seem to forget that we are cultivating Buddhahood and that if we are fortunate enough to attain a Fruit Status, it will require the transformation of our mortal bodies into Buddha bodies. Teacher has talked about this in so many lectures that I am ashamed to be so lazy still in this regard.

Thank you everyone for your time and attention. Thank you revered Master for allowing me to cultivate this Great Law.