(Minghui.org) I studied the Fa, did the exercises, and sent forth righteous thoughts regularly. I made myself very busy, slept less, and felt very tired, but my character showed no improvement. Was I not working hard in vain? I had been trying to save face and put up a front to show others, and in actuality, I had not been cultivating myself.

Because of my attachment to saving face, I took on a very burdensome schedule. I would get up very early each morning, not because I was trying to be diligent, but because of my desire to enter Shen Yun and my competitive nature. I thought getting up early was a great achievement that others could not do.

I would feel anxious while practicing the violin at school whenever I failed to achieve the desired outcome, and my dissatisfaction would spur me to practice harder. I would compare my skills and progress with those around me. During solo lessons and when I was performing I kept wondering, “After hearing me play, will others say I have improved? If I play something wrong, will they criticize me for my errors?”

These thoughts came so naturally that I did not realize I was having them. When playing a musical instrument, you need to know what sounds good and what sounds bad before you can play proficiently. The same is true for cultivation. I was unaware of my bad thoughts and wondered why I continued to be so nervous on stage. This resulted in my failure to perform well. I later discovered my nervousness was rooted in my human attachments.

I have strong attachments to saving face, jealousy, lust, and showing off, but I kept refusing to admit the existence of these problems. I had the strongest resistance to admitting my attachment to lust and jealousy, but refusing to acknowledge their existence did not mean that they had disappeared. Sooner or later, these attachments would resurface and need to be eliminated.

If I realized others were not as skilled as me, I felt a little happier. If I realized others were better than me, I would start to feel a little jealous. When those who were originally inferior to me suddenly became better, my jealousy would increase due to fear of losing face. I cleverly hid my jealous nature, refusing to expose it to others. Even my diligence was an illusion I used to prevent further loss of face.

Putting Aside Pride and Sharing Shortcomings with Fellow Practitioners

I met a friend last year. At first, I viewed him negatively as he was not as diligent in cultivation as I was. I thought that getting up early to practice the exercises and studying the Fa for a long time was the benchmark for diligence, so I tried to help him. Initially, I was happy for him when I saw him making progress. But as we grew closer, I started feeling jealous. As my negative thoughts became stronger, disagreements and conflicts began to occur, souring our relationship.

Jealousy and emotion seemed related to mutual inhibition and mutual generation, and they caused poor cooperation between me and my fellow practitioner. My friend typically woke up later than me, in line with my perception that he was not as diligent as I was. Yet whenever he rose earlier than me, I would become slightly jealous. As the emotion was not strong, I paid little attention to it. In June last year, my friend auditioned for a place in Shen Yun and his righteous thoughts became very strong. I was not offered the opportunity, although I perceived myself to be more diligent than him. My failure to gain an audition for Shen Yun aroused feelings of extreme jealousy.

I wanted to get rid of my jealousy but knew this would require me to expose this problem to my friends and ask them for help. But because I wanted to save face, I could not bring myself to tell them about my issues. As a result, no matter how uncomfortable I felt about my attachments, I remained quiet, thinking I could somehow get rid of them on my own despite my difficulties.

According to Master

“The human desire to save face is very strong. In fact, when you set your mind at ease and don’t carry so much baggage, you will cultivate faster.” (Teachings at the Conference in Australia)

Because I prioritized saving face and not disclosing my failings to others, my cultivation progress was very slow. A fellow practitioner, who happened to read what I was writing here, commented, “I didn’t notice your jealousy.” Yes, because I hid it well. At the end of Fa-rectification, if I continue to harbor attachments and refuse to expose them because I want to keep a diligent facade, my cultivation efforts would amount to nothing. Who was I cultivating for? I did not want a negative outcome.

I have started to work on my problem. Once while rehearsing with the orchestra, I felt that my friend was playing better than me. After the rehearsal, I raised this issue with him and admitted my attachment to being competitive. Surprisingly, he too admitted to having the same problem. We found we excelled at different aspects of music, and if we helped each other we could learn and improve together. Mutual jealousy would only cause conflicts. My jealousy and competitive feelings diminished after our discussion. If I had done this earlier, I could have gotten rid of this attachment a long time ago. My pride caused me to hold onto these attachments. 

I felt jealous again during an orchestra rehearsal. After some hesitation, I shared my feelings with this fellow practitioner, and in the aftermath felt my jealousy diminish again. The protagonist in the movie “Once We Were Divine” also developed jealousy but got rid of it himself quickly. At first, I believed removing this attachment would be a quick process, yet this attachment continued to recur time and again. I became frustrated, “Haven’t I gotten rid of this attachment?” The tests continued to appear time and again, although with a smaller magnitude each time. I later realized this was a relatively normal elimination process.

Subsequently, whenever I felt jealous or competitive, I tried not to avoid facing it. If these feelings persisted, I would ask Master for help. I encountered many tests of jealousy, and I knew this was arranged to help me get rid of my attachment. 

I had another classmate who was not very diligent but possessed extreme talent. He claimed he hardly studied the Fa after leaving Ming Hui School, but he could recite the Fa from memory each time we mentioned a particular section. He also had talent in music. I was his polar opposite, having to work hard for my achievements while failing frequently in the process. As a result, I became jealous again.

Having learned my lesson, I shared my shortcomings with him and let him know my negative thoughts toward him. He told me he too was jealous of me. While I was jealous of his talents, he was jealous of my skills. This exchange showed us just how unnecessary our feelings of jealousy were. We both learned a lot, and gained a better understanding of each other’s thoughts, and my feelings of jealousy diminished after our talk.

Then something sad occurred. This classmate became addicted to his mobile phone. Yet whenever I spent time supervising him, he would revert to his previous diligence. I spent a lot of time helping him, and just as he was about to get better, I developed feelings of jealousy toward his talent since he was able to progress rapidly with little effort. My motivation to help him waned, and he reverted to his bad habit.

In fact, talent is also predestined. He has it because he deserves it, and my jealousy is groundless. The universe is fair, and I lack it because I do not deserve it.

I turned his mobile phone into the teacher. Although this seemed the right thing to do, it was actually an unwise move. He was eventually expelled from school because he kept going against the rules. A major contributing factor was that I confiscated his phone. I meant well but ended up doing something bad. Instead of helping him, I caused him to return to his original living environment, where it would be even more difficult for him to control his addiction. I failed due to my jealous feelings and because I went to extremes.

This incident made me realize the difficulties practitioners face in their cultivation journey. It is insufficient to help others superficially. Practitioners can not harbor any attachments and must help others from the bottom of our hearts. At the same time, any help must be given rationally based on the situation at hand. Because this is hard to determine, I think the key to solving this is to study the Fa. Once a person can distinguish right from wrong, they are unlikely to commit bad deeds despite their good intentions. 

When discussing this with fellow practitioners, they advised me not to consider him being expelled a bad development. This might actually be a good thing since we are unable to see the arrangements behind it. Dafa practitioners are under Master’s care. By presuming that he would end up failing without my help, was I not being self-righteous? My certainty that he would fail without me was also selfishness on my part, the belief that I am so great others cannot succeed without me. I had placed myself on a pedestal, and this was also a flaw related to my pride. 

Studying the Fa and Practicing the Exercises Should Not Be for the Sake of Saving Face

A fellow practitioner invited me to join a Fa study group. Although I was busy with other work, I agreed to the request to save face. Because my motives for studying the Fa were not pure, I got distracted and could never remember what I’d read. Because I studied the Fa for the sake of my attachment, I could never absorb any of the teachings. We had group Fa study each night in our dormitory and I refused to drop out, not because I was diligent but because I wanted to save face, even on occasions when I was too sleepy to study well.

Similarly, when it came to practicing the exercises, I would wake up early in the morning feeling very dignified and diligent. When others praised me, “Wow, you got up so early!” I would feel that I had cultivated well. Yet I would always fall asleep while doing the exercises. At first, I was terrified of losing face should others find out I was sleeping while exercising. Now whenever I practice the exercises, I ask fellow practitioners to watch over me and wake me up whenever I fall asleep. My problematic state has improved, though I still fall asleep on occasion. 

I discovered I would fall asleep whenever my mind wandered, and I could stay awake as long as my mind remained blank. The exercises generate energy for practitioners, so logically I should not feel sleepy. In the article “No Mistakes” published on Minghui.org, the author wrote, “But one emcee made a little mistake in a sentence, causing some audience members’ main consciousnesses to lose focus for a second and disconnect themselves from the golden current of the heavenly gate.” Similarly, when my mind wandered the exercise mechanisms installed by Master stopped moving and I would fall asleep. While practicing the exercises, my main consciousness must remain strong, or I will fail to achieve the desired effect. I have discovered the value of confronting my mistakes, bravely asking for help, and correcting myself.

Being Realistic When Writing an Experience Sharing Article

Because I wanted to save face, my experience sharing draft last year did not cover my worries about saving face or jealousy but instead covered issues of lesser importance. I used to think that the longer the sharing article, the higher my cultivation level. I dared not write about attachments that others did not have or particularly serious attachments, fearing others would think poorly of me. Additionally, I wrote about attachments I had already resolved. I was writing these experience-sharing articles for others, not with the hope of improving myself.

In the future, I want to cultivate myself instead of practicing for the sake of jealousy and competitiveness. I will openly share my attachments with fellow practitioners without fear of losing face. Only in this way can I become a true practitioner.