(Minghui.org) Even though I have lived outside of China for nearly 10 years, I still have not managed to completely change my Chinese ways of thinking and behavior.
I recently had two dreams – one was a reminder to not be complacent in our mission to save people and the other pointed out that I needed to correct one of my bad habits.
In my first dream, I was a passenger on a bus. Someone screamed at me to look outside. I was stunned! A dark liquid was quickly swallowing up almost everything. Foaming at the surface, this liquid was spreading and swamping houses and the land and chasing after our bus. I was afraid, but soon noticed that there was a comfortable distance between our bus and the liquid.
I was overwhelmed by sadness that the apocalypse appeared to have started.
I saw a person collapse in a shallow pool when I got off the bus. I went over to lift his head out of the muck. When I did, he began to spit water out of his mouth. I was thrilled that he was still alive.
For many years I have volunteered at the Epoch Times in my spare time and it hasn’t been all that easy. But I’ve known deep down that I haven’t been sufficiently active in saving people. For example, when I did the Falun Dafa exercises in front of the Chinese Consulate, I would not stop to talk to tourists stopping by like my fellow practitioners would. In my dream, I felt despair at the apocalypse, yet I was also relieved, knowing any attempt to save people, no matter how small, was significant and well-rewarded.
My second dream was more explicit. Someone took me out for a walk. He showed me how to walk at an even pace and told me not to rush. I was puzzled—how did he know that I walked too fast? Then I realized it was Master showing me how to walk. At that point, the man turned around, smiled at me, and disappeared.
It’s a long story. I was an excellent student and graduated from a prestigious university in China. While studying at one of the top high schools in my province, I survived the mountains of homework and exams by racing around instead of walking. But that habit stayed with me even after I left China. My colleagues at work and even my managers have commented on it, but I just brushed it off. Rushing around to save time was considered a virtue in China, so it was not a problem as far as I was concerned.
A fellow practitioner once told me I seemed to bristle with an aggressive energy when I walked onto the stage to share my cultivation experiences. He also heard the practitioner next to him making negative remarks about “another one of those successful women.” I did not think much about it at the time, because, to me, walking fast was not something anyone should have to worry about.
One day, as I sped past the desk of my supervisor, whom I got along well with, he said sternly, “Stop! Slow down.” I realized that my power walking was a real problem. Up to that point, my supervisor had been very patient with me while showing me the ropes on project management – something a design engineer like myself was not used to. His sudden change in tone surprised and alarmed me. He later told me again that I should not walk like that. I began to understand that he expected a certain standard of courtesy and social etiquette – racing and charging around the place was just not acceptable.
I started to slow down for a while, but old habits die hard; I was back to power walking after I left that job. At my new job, my friendly manager would sometimes joke about the way I walked, but again, I did not think much of it.
My dream made me think about how fast I walked all over again. The things we learned in school and the way of life in China made us all believe that what is unacceptable outside of China is a virtue in China. I realized that, if I wanted to fit in, I had to change my ways.
Master has touched on this issue many times in his lectures, reminding Chinese practitioners living outside of China to rid themselves of Party culture. I realized that walking excessively fast is also a manifestation of Party culture. Highly educated Chinese coming out of the education system in China often have great technical skills, but they lack the social skills that are the norm in any civilized society. Because these unacceptable behaviors are very normal in China, most of the time we are not even aware of the problems. We think we should focus on the big issues and ignore the little ones.
It is, however, not a small issue if your “minor” abnormal behavior is making people keep a distance from you. If you want to do well in your job and to build up your credibility to effectively clarify the truth, you not only need good technical skills, but you also need excellent social skills that are acceptable to Western societies at large.
I have been inspired by my two dreams and hope my experience is of some help to practitioners facing similar issues.