Swiss Fahui | Looking Inward at Every Possible Moment

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

I have been practicing Falun Dafa since 2017. I traveled here again from Waren in northern Germany, having already had the privilege of attending last year's conference with my family. Carrying with us the lasting impression of the vivid stories we heard then, and being grateful for this opportunity to elevate ourselves as a family, we have returned to share our own cultivation stories.

From the age of 60, I spent several years working intensively at a computer every single day—both in my professional work in the media and in supporting a Dafa project. As a result, I became completely tied to my computer. I rarely went out to tell others about Falun Dafa or engage in conversations with people.

This continued for a few years, until about two years ago, when I suffered a complete physical collapse. I could not sit, stand, or lie down, as the pain would become unbearable within just a few minutes. This state persisted for several months. I had to frequently change my position. If I slept for more than two hours, I would have to struggle to get into a warm shower just to help my muscles relax.

I was able to continue my media work during this period as I set up a standing desk, but I would have to sit down whenever the pain became too intense. However, I knew that, as a practitioner, this was not a proper state to be in. So, what was the gap in my cultivation?

In the depths of my despair—at a point where I was even contemplating giving up on my physical body—I turned to Master. In that situation, Master, with immense compassion, provided me with three points of guidance which I can only express in my own words according to my enlightenment at that moment:

-Did Master come into this world to save people? Do I wish to follow Master?-If I wish to follow and assist Master, I must identify my fundamental attachments, learn to deal with them rationally, and then eliminate them.-What do I wish to leave behind for humanity?

I began to reflect on how I could put this guidance into practice.

Saving People—But How?

I made a firm resolve to truly follow Master and assist him in saving people. But how, specifically, should I go about this? What could I actually do?

I recalled a time when I attended a nine-day seminar in Oldenburg with my family. After the lecture video, we went to the center of the city. My wife and son went off to stroll around, while I stayed behind to observe the activity on the square.

I noticed that I was judging the people passing by and that negative thoughts about them frequently arose in my mind. How should I handle this? The thought then occurred to me that these people wished to be saved, too.

To dispel the negative thoughts, I kept telling myself: “This person, too, wishes to be saved.” Whenever a negative thought about a passerby arose, I would repeat this phrase like a mantra.

Gradually, a deep desire grew within me to talk to people about Falun Dafa and share my own experiences. Consequently, I decided to participate more in truth-clarification events and make a greater effort to connect with people in the city. I wanted to help Master in the Fa-rectification and validate the Fa.

I began to study the Fa while sitting on a bench in front of a bakery in the pedestrian zone. After a while, I found myself striking up conversations with both locals and tourists. Time and again, I thought to myself, “This person, too, wishes to be saved.” I told people about Falun Dafa, gave them informational materials, and distributed articles written by Master. I did the same at an information day event in Rostock, where several Vietnamese practitioners also took part.

My Fundamental Attachments

Through these experiences, I realized that I held fixed notions about how people should behave and how things should be done. If someone did not listen attentively, or worse, interrupted me, I would become irritable. My impatience would lead to annoyance and, eventually, anger. I was completely at the mercy of my emotions. This took me by surprise and prompted some deep reflection. I realized that a cultivator should not behave this way.

I reflected on my past and recalled many traumatic experiences that had begun in my childhood. I had learned to suppress pain, choosing not to feel it at all. As a result, I adopted an attitude of avoiding all feelings, focusing solely on following rules, all to ensure I would not be punished again.

I even tried to impose this behavioral pattern on others, which, naturally, met with resistance. At the time, I simply did not know any better. This realization gave me pause and motivated me to look even more deeply within.

In the course of my cultivation, an idea had taken root: “One ought to eliminate all emotions.” I thought, “That’s a good thing. I don’t want to feel anything anyway—I’ve already had plenty of practice at that.”

Eventually, I came to realize that this very attitude had contributed to my physical collapse. Suppressing emotions was not the way a practitioner should deal with them.

Last year, I attended the Swiss Fa Conference, where I witnessed practitioners openly and authentically sharing their experiences and the emotions associated with them. I realized that this very openness could be a source of vitality and joy. Deeply impressed, I headed home with my family and spoke about all the things I should be grateful for.

It struck me that, in today’s world, gratitude is often overlooked when we simply go through the motions, performing tasks solely out of duty. I, too, had lived this way. But as a practitioner, I shouldn’t act like that. Shouldn’t our actions instead be driven by a sense of responsibility toward the sentient beings who are to be saved?

My entire family began to share what they were grateful for. This fostered a sense of mutual appreciation and a stronger bond between us.

Looking Inward

These experiences prompted me to look inward with increasing depth and precision. However, the true significance of this process was not entirely clear, as reflected in my interactions with the people I encountered.

This changed fundamentally when I attended a Minghui winter camp and took a course on Wushu (Chinese martial arts).

At first, I became aware of my own physical limitations. However, throughout the course, the instructor told me three times that I could do it. These words resonated so profoundly that it felt as if Master himself were speaking to me, encouraging me to learn Wushu.

Later, I was also tested on whether I was truly committed to continuing. It was suggested that Wushu belonged to a different school and could not be practiced alongside Falun Dafa. For me, however, it was clear that Shen Yun is a project initiated by Master and dedicated to the salvation of sentient beings. Shen Yun combines movements from martial arts with elements of classical dance.

Furthermore, Wushu is included in the international competitions hosted by NTD. These competitions aim to revive original traditions and arts and pass them on to future generations. I felt that this was surely in line with Master’s intentions.

Once my doubts were dispelled, I applied myself to the training. I soon realized, however, that I had physical limitations. Nevertheless, I persisted and took part in the final performance. It was my first time performing Wushu, and it served as both an encouragement and a confirmation that I had made the right decision.

The course was offered online and took place once a week. In addition, there were in-person training sessions scheduled every four to six weeks. Since my instructor was away at the time, I had to rely on his instructional videos. Having little prior experience, I found myself easily distracted and often felt anxious and unworthy. Consequently, I rarely practiced the required sequence of movements, known asTaolu.

Lacking the necessary physical foundation, I initially focused primarily on regaining my flexibility and balance. At the same time, I wanted to meet the requirements to qualify for a discount on the course fees. I managed to do this to some extent.

After three months, it was time for the first in-person training session. I felt very nervous, even afraid. For me, this was to be the decisive test: “Could I truly commit to Wushu and stick with it for the long term.”

In that moment, I recalled the questions Master had infused into my mind. Yes, I want to follow Master and save people. Yes, I want to let go of my fundamental attachments. And yes, through Wushu I want to make traditional values visible and be experienced once again in the human world.

Physical Awareness

With this clarity, new realms and levels of perception opened up for me. Initially, this concerned my body, as every movement within a Taolu carried specific requirements and a distinct meaning. Only when these precisely coordinated movements were executed correctly could the meaning and effect of the routine be revealed.

To achieve this, I had to look inward and become conscious of every single component of a movement. I began to perform a body scan again and again, both while standing still and while in motion. Everything had to be executed consciously and with control.

From that point on, my awareness was no longer confined to my training; it extended into my daily life, and in particular, to the practice of the Dafa exercises. For instance, I would observe whether my eyes were closed, whether my tongue was resting lightly against the roof of my mouth, whether my hips were in a neutral position, whether my shoulders were relaxed, and whether my face radiated calm and harmony.

In this way, I could discern my state at any given moment and decide what, if anything, needed to be corrected. I took full responsibility for my situation and my actions. I identified my shortcomings and began to consciously address and resolve them. I repeated this process continually until it gradually became a habit. In those moments, I felt a profound connection to the Fa.

Dealing With Anger

However, this awareness was not limited to the physical body. Whenever events did not unfold as I had envisioned, an internal conflict would arise within me. Feelings such as annoyance, fear, rage, or hatred would immediately surface.

One example of this involved washing the dishes. When I did the dishes myself, I would arrange them in such a way that I could still easily access and operate the faucet. When my wife washed the dishes, she would sometimes arrange them in a way that made the faucet difficult to reach. In the past, such situations would immediately trigger my anger, and I would push the dishes aside noisily and carelessly, often without giving it a second thought. As a result, my resentment only continued to grow.

I had a tendency to try to “educate” others and act in a patronizing way. I believed that only my own way of doing things was correct. I lacked tolerance, empathy, and understanding. Anger had a complete hold on me.

I began to consciously observe myself. I recognized the situation for what it truly was and noticed whenever anger welled up inside me. In those moments, I had to decide how to respond. Through my training, I became capable of making that choice consciously.

It was a truly magical moment, the thick fog lifted, and I could clearly see the living being that had triggered the anger within me. I didn’t just perceive the anger; I was able to engage with it internally.

I said to my anger, “I no longer have time for you. I want to refine my character, and that requires practicing tolerance. When I am angry, I am not being tolerant, nor can I show compassion. At best, I might manage to remain superficially polite.”

In that instant, I realized that, without tolerance and kindness, I could not truly reach other people. No matter how sincere my words might be, my message would never reach the other person if I lacked tolerance and understanding for them.

A New Attitude

Through these experiences, I gained a clearer understanding of how to speak with people about the meaning and significance of Falun Dafa. I learned to identify my fundamental attachments and to address them in a responsible manner. Furthermore, I came to understand how, through Wushu, I could re-anchor traditional values within the human world and make them something that could be experienced once again.

By looking inward, I began to perceive myself in an entirely new way. I recognized many aspects of my being that I could now address consciously and responsibly.

It no longer made sense to complain, lament, judge others, disparage myself, argue, insist on being right, impose myself upon others, chase after various desires and dreams, or feel compelled to make everything perfect.

Instead, my heart opened up. I learned to perceive myself, recognize, and feel what was happening in the moment. From there, I could consciously decide how I wanted to handle a given situation.

I was finally able to be truly present for others, listening to them with my full attention while simultaneously giving them space for their own process of enlightenment. The more I understood, the better I became at allowing others to simply be who they were. I could share in their life stories, tell them my own, and speak about the impact that Falun Dafa has had on my life. This filled me with an indescribable sense of gratitude.

During the 2026 Minghui Summer Camp, I also had the opportunity to participate in stretching sessions led by two Shen Yun performers. My key takeaways were:

- Shen Yun incorporates movement forms from martial arts as well as the expressive styles of traditional Peking Opera.

-The human body should be kept in good condition and, therefore, trained. After all, it is like a sacred temple—a gift from the divine. It radiates accordingly, thereby helping to validate the dignity of Dafa.

-It is possible to relax into the pain, transcend the limitations in one’s own mind, and perceive other dimensions. I am able to cast aside my doubts, leaving me filled with humility and gratitude.

Furthermore, I was able to delve deeper into the concept of “looking inward” with others. There had been significant discussion beforehand regarding the camp rules, and a non-practitioner at the camp brought this up with me. I shared my current understanding with her: practitioners set high standards for themselves, not for others. Why? Because I cannot know the karmic connections at play, nor can I know what stage another person is in on their own journey. I cannot know for certain what tasks another person is meant to navigate and learn from, or what they might be reflecting to me to help me elevate myself.

The camp guidelines allowed me to examine where I stand, identify my own shortcomings, and recognize what I still needed to learn. Specifically, when I am willing to look at what another person is reflecting to me, I can defuse conflicts and turn my attention inward to examine what I have yet to let go of or what I still need to learn. That person who did not practice [Falun Dafa] then remarked that she could now understand and accept the purpose of the camp guidelines.

A member of the summer camp’s media team asked for my critique of the team’s work. At first, I didn’t know how to respond. After a moment’s reflection, I suggested that he simply ask himself what the other person was reflecting to him. By doing so, he could gain all the insight he needed in that moment. He was receptive to this and understood the point.

Another piece of feedback further encouraged me to remain vigilant in self-reflection and self-awareness, so as to perceive things as they truly are. During a discussion among parents, I wanted to comment on someone else’s story, but I couldn’t find the right words, especially since I had to speak in English.

However, after looking inward and asking myself what was being reflected to me, I was able to speak with ease and, with the support of the others, make myself understood. The following day, I learned that someone in the group had described my contribution as the final missing piece of the puzzle. It had helped him understand how to identify and address internal conflicts.

I am infinitely grateful to be able to cultivate Falun Dafa. The practice has opened doors and built bridges, allowing me to return to the way I once was: to be and to act within the community with Truthfulness-Compassion-Forbearance.

Concluding Remarks

I spent several weeks working on this article. Time and again, I put off writing it and failed to meet the deadlines I had set, because I allowed myself to get distracted. Since I frequently needed to take breaks, the article took shape step by step.

Just as the article was nearly finished, my computer restarted. Upon rebooting, the system asked whether I wanted to save the article. Through a moment of carelessness, I clicked “Do not save,” which meant I had to rewrite a portion of the article.

In the process, I became aware of a personal limitation: my lack of focus. Only when I direct my attention entirely toward a single task am I truly able to look inward. This gives rise to a state of simplicity and a lack of deliberate intent, a state in which I can follow the natural course of things with apparent ease. For me, this means following the arrangements Master has made.

It was Master’s compelling guidance that encouraged me to take up Wushu. Through my engagement with Wushu, and with the help of the practitioners there, I was able to gain a deeper understanding of the Fa principles, elevate my xinxing, and sense and experience the power of Dafa. This has brought greater confidence and stability to my cultivation. Words cannot express how infinitely grateful I am for this.

May these experiences support and inspire others, and may they prove beneficial to those who read them.

Thank you, revered Master! Thank you, fellow practitioners!

(Presented at the 2026 Fa Conference in German-speaking Switzerland)