(Minghui.org) I participated in a truth-clarification project many years ago. We faced tremendous pressure and difficulties. Just as we were about to make breakthroughs, another practitioner, Lei, joined us and was in a position to make major decisions.

Lei had a very different understanding of the project. His way of doing things was completely different from ours. Instead of seeing things move forward as we had hoped they would, his participation was very disruptive and complicated everything.

When we tried to communicate with Lei, he ridiculed us. We didn’t argue with him. Instead we just tried to endure and cooperate. At an important stage when we lacked manpower and resources, we had to put the project on hold, which eventually led to it shutting down.

When we reflected on why the project failed, Lei blamed us and said we did a bad job before he came on board. We talked among ourselves and decided that, to avoid making the conflict worse, we shouldn’t argue with him or try to explain the situation to other practitioners. We kept our distance from Lei and endured everyone’s criticism and negative comments.

After I was arrested many years later, a police officer said to me, “I heard you had some conflicts with Lei.” I remembered that incident but didn’t think I’d done anything wrong, since I never said anything negative about Lei during the entire process.

After I was released, I replayed the incident over and over in my mind and tried to remember all the details. But I still couldn’t see what I’d done wrong. I asked Master to give me a hint. Then I recalled the line, “He’s right, And I’m wrong” from the poem “Who’s Right, Who’s Wrong” in Hong Yin III.

At first, I still didn’t think I was wrong even with Master’s hint. I wept when I thought of everything I endured over the years. But at the same time, I also knew that if Master said I was wrong, I must have done something wrong. After I calmed down, I accepted the fact that I was wrong and was willing to face it.

While studying the Fa one day, I read,

“The outside pressures that Dafa disciples face are tests as well as opportunities to be more diligent, while the internal conflicts and pressures among Dafa disciples are, likewise, tests and opportunities to be more diligent.” (“A Congratulatory Letter to the Fa Conference of Europe”)

I immediately understood. Looking back at the incident, I realized I’d made so many mistakes and saw there were plenty of opportunities where I could have handled the situation better. I let go of my resentment towards Lei and sincerely thanked him for helping me improve.

My biggest takeaway from the incident was that we shouldn’t judge things based on ordinary people’s concept of right and wrong. Whenever there is a conflict, we should look beyond it and try to actively find ways to work with each other to reach our common goal of saving people. Whether I am right or wrong doesn’t matter. The key is how I improve myself amidst conflicts.

When we decide if something is right or wrong, we make the call from the standard at one particular level. But when we look at things from a higher level, we might find that our previous understanding of what is right versus what is wrong is totally incorrect. If we insist on our “right,” that in itself is wrong, because that means we remain at the same level and are not improving. I now no longer think that project was a complete failure—it was a cultivation opportunity.