Changing My Mindset and Learning To Be Tolerant

(Minghui.org) Greetings, venerable Master! Greetings, fellow practitioners!

I would like to report to Master on my recent cultivation experiences and share them with you.

Eliminating Competitiveness and Selfishness While Working in the Media

I initially felt there weren’t many xinxing challenges when I began working in the media. Looking back, however, I realize there were—it’s just that I didn’t handle them well. Instead, I pushed away opportunities to help fellow practitioners advance in their cultivation, and as a result, I created tribulations for them. What I disliked most was when colleagues directed me to do tasks. It might have just been a casual chat among practitioners but I had no tolerance. Sometimes a single remark would shut things down, and my attitude was poor.

A colleague told me that one more page layout needed to be done. I felt it wasn’t my responsibility, so I said, “Are you asking me to do it?” She has a good temperament, didn’t respond, and simply walked away. I immediately realized that my attitude was inappropriate. Even if I felt it wasn’t my responsibility, I should still treat people kindly and explain things politely. Realizing my mistake, I should have said, “I’m sorry, my attitude wasn’t good.”

Because I didn’t pass that xinxing test, I soon ran ito another one. There were issues with the text on the page I did the layout for. The manager asked a coworker to call the chief editor about it. This coworker suggested that I should make the call instead, which made me feel like I was being ordered around. I replied, “No, I won’t call!” I thought to myself, “Everyone here seems eager to act like a boss or a manager, always assigning work to someone else. As a senior employee, I wouldn’t boss you around, but now you’re telling me what to do. Why do these unpleasant things keep happening to me?” I still hadn’t figured it out.

A few days later, there was a shortage of articles for the page I was preparing for Melbourne’s paper. A colleague noticed that my page looked empty and offered me half a section. I replied, “I don’t want it. If it’s empty, tell the editor-in-chief.” I thought, “If I took her section, I would need to re-arrange the page I’d just finished working on.” She said, “I won’t call the editor-in-chief.” I thought, “Fine, if you won’t say anything, that’s your choice.” I felt these matters should really be arranged by the editor-in-chief. Whatever they wanted to include, we shouldn’t decide on our own. If it was inappropriate, our efforts would have been wasted and we could be criticized. I didn’t have much patience or think I needed to explain what I thought. I kept thinking that these things should be common sense. I still hadn’t passed the xinxing test.

Because I had similar experiences three times recently, I wondered if it was because practitioners spoke too casually, or was it that I didn’t consider other people’s feelings when I spoke, that my attitude and tone were not kind. Would I treat my colleagues like this if I worked in an ordinary company? It was time to take this issue seriously.

Master said,

“When there is a division of labor there will be those who supervise others and those who are supervised. Yet you get upset when someone tries to supervise or direct you. (Laughing) Truth be told, if from the depths of your hearts you all want to see this paper succeed, then it won’t matter much what tone someone uses with you, who directs you, or who you have to be a subordinate to.

“When Dafa disciples are together, often what you can least stand is someone directing you to do something. But if you do work in ordinary society at some company, you do whatever your boss tells you; however that ordinary person directs you, you comply. Then how come it doesn’t work like that with our own things?” (“Fa Teaching Given at the Epoch Times,” Collected Teachings Given Around the World Volume X)

I noticed that many of my colleagues tend to assign work to others, which sometimes makes me feel inadequate. This in fact reflects my calculating mindset and my strong sense of self-protection. I often push back with no room for negotiation and explain that it’s not my responsibility and that I don’t assign work to others. This tendency might cause me to respond abruptly and speak in a harsh manner, which reflects my attachment to being competitive.

A recent incident revealed my selfishness. One day, the company director called me and said that someone was coming to the office to buy something. He asked if I could leave the office after finishing sending righteous thoughts, and I agreed as that was my usual time to leave. I also told the director that another practitioner was in the office. After the call, I told this practitioner that someone would be coming to make a purchase. However, I didn’t explicitly suggest that she eat earlier to ensure the office wouldn’t be left empty when the customer arrived. I felt it wasn’t my place to dictate her meal time.

In retrospect, this indirectness is reminiscent of certain habits in Chinese Communist Party culture—where instructions are implied rather than clearly stated, leaving others to interpret the meaning. Since she grew up outside China, she didn’t pick up on the hint. She remained busy until I finished sending righteous thoughts. She then asked when I would leave, and I replied that I would leave immediately. She decided to put the phone number on the door and then go and get something to eat.

After a few minutes, I checked the time and saw it was after this client had agreed to be at the office. The other practitioner also hadn’t gone to eat yet (I was still looking outward). I worried that the client might show up just as I was about to leave, wasting my time, so I quickly locked the door and left. When the elevator arrived, two people stepped out. I assumed they were there to buy things, but it didn’t matter; they could contact the practitioner who’d stepped out.

I got out of the elevator and walked toward the train station, telling myself, “Don’t call me…the other practitioner can handle it. No need to trouble me.” Just as I got to station, my phone started ringing—the practitioner was calling, and there were already several missed calls. She said, “You have to come back.” I muttered to myself, “Can’t you handle such a small matter?” and asked why. She said, “Even if I go back to the office, I can’t sell anything. I didn’t bring the keys.”

I had to go back. I didn’t want to waste my time, but I ended up wasting even more time. As I walked toward the office, I felt a mix of helplessness and wry amusement. I truly realized how insignificant a person is and that only Master has the final say. Master’s wise arrangements exposed my selfishness. I was truly ashamed of my selfishness and silently resolved to do better next time.

Eliminating the Desire for Comfort

A relative from Australia visited me when I still lived in China. I asked if she’d seen many people practicing the Falun Dafa exercises in the parks in Australia. She said she only saw a few. I found this surprising—it’s such a free place, yet only a few people practiced.

I often heard practitioners talk about their experiences of going to the park near the Opera House, where they clarify the truth about the persecution to Chinese tourists and practice the exercises. Their stories inspired me, and I began to feel that I should also go there. I had some free time on Saturdays. If the Tian Guo Marching Band had no activities, I usually went to flute classes on Saturday or practiced at home, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic. Over time I gradually began relaxing on Saturday.

I practice the exercises every morning at a nearby practice site. On Saturdays, there are only three of us at most. If I don’t attend, it will seem like even fewer people are practicing, which might give people a negative impression. This made me feel a bit conflicted and I was unsure what to do. To balance both, I could practice the exercises locally first and then go to the Opera House to practice. Although it would make my schedule as tight as a regular workday, it would be manageable. I just thought about it but didn’t do anything.

One Saturday in mid-August, I returned home after doing the exercises near my place and I thought about going to the park near the Opera House—the weather was beautiful and I thought many practitioners would be there. While washing cups and getting ready for breakfast, I accidentally knocked a cup against the milk pot — both were made of porcelain — and it made a loud bang. To me, it felt like a warning bell, and I felt that Master was reminding me to go.

I quickly finished breakfast, sent righteous thoughts, packed my things, and set off. To my surprise, when I arrived at the park, only three practitioners were there. I quickly joined them, and just as I started to do the exercises, I heard a tourist mention Falun Dafa. He even counted and noted there were four people. Thankfully, I came, otherwise there would have been only three.

A practitioner asked if I could come every Saturday. I agreed, provided I had no commitments with the Tian Guo Marching Band. She thanked me, but I said there was no need to thank me; it’s what I should do. I understand it’s not easy for Chinese tourists to visit Australia, so I hope that at every scenic spot they see practitioners and learn that Falun Dafa is practiced around the world.

Master said,

“At present Dafa disciples are to go save people, and thus I have been watching how each area is doing in truth-clarification. Some truth-clarification sites have really done an excellent job. There is an increasing number of tourist groups from mainland China nowadays. This is an arrangement for people to hear the truth in a different setting. Our truth-clarification sites are, in fact, the front line—the front line for clarifying the truth.” (“Fa Teaching at the 2013 Western U.S. Fa Conference,” Collected Fa Teachings, Vol. XII)

I am just doing my part, fulfilling what I should do. After going to that park and practicing, I feel a special sense of peace.

Letting Go of Self-Interest

Before we left China, we wanted to manage all our domestic property, but my father-in-law and mother-in-law disagreed. We tried to hold ourselves to practitioners’ standards and respected their wishes. Twenty years have passed, and recently, because of property demolition, we need to prepare various documents—like a power of attorney— which costs both money and time. It became very troublesome, and we had some resentment.

We felt detached from material interests, but this situation stirred up this attachment again, and we felt indignant. Old grievances resurfaced. Throughout the years, we received no profit from the property, and now we had to pay for the paperwork. When I struggled to let things go, I sometimes thought of dealing with them in an ordinary way, but it felt wrong—like we were ordinary people, or even less than ordinary. We are cultivators, and we must follow Master’s teachings.

One day while studying the Fa, I was enlightened by Master’s teaching again: “When your vested interest is snatched away by others, you will not go to compete and fight for it like others.” (Lecture Eight, Zhuan Falun)

The ones who are stealing benefits are none other than the people who are closest to us and have been kind to us. We must not fight with them.

After all these years in Australia, we earn enough to live on. It’s just that we haven’t eliminated our attachments. I need to actively cultivate myself, and only by letting go of fame, gain, and qing can I return home with Master.

My parents-in-law moved to Sydney to live with us more than ten years ago. We covered all their daily living expenses, gave them money during the New Year and other festivals, bought gifts, and took them out for special meals. We did all this voluntarily, as we believe it’s a child’s responsibility. However, when they ask us to buy this or that, it makes us feel uncomfortable. I believe that when others want to do good things for me, I hope they do it in the way I like—that’s what I feel truly counts as being good to me. Similarly, when I want to be good to others, I tend to do it in the way I like, rather than in the way they prefer. From my perspective, this approach is not truly considerate; it’s self-centered and is not putting one’s own interests aside. To genuinely be good to others, we should strive to do so in a way that resonates with them.

I will wholeheartedly follow Master’s teachings and cultivate diligently.

Thank you, Master! Thank you, fellow practitioners!

(Selected submission presented at the 2025 Australia Fa Conference)