When I was in my teens my class took a weeklong field trip by bus from Singapore to the mountainous countryside of northern Malaysia. Imagine our excitement at being on this adventure with our classmates. We boys were in a particularly boisterous mood, outdoing one another to impress the girls. Being mischievous and rather bold, I was one of the ringleaders of the trouble we were always getting into. We snuck out of our rooms after curfew and disappeared as soon as our teachers’ heads were turned. Our chaperones had to constantly chase after and threaten us.
During the course of my life, on account of my training in the Buddhist teachings, I have gained some experiential understanding; I have thought a lot about these topics, and this is what I would like to share with you. However, if, as I speak, I relate my experience to the Buddhist teachings, it is not in order to propagate Buddhism. That is not my intention, not even in the slightest. I have reasons for this.
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When suddenly one day one of your loved ones dies and you don’t know what to do to help, you’ll feel so confused, so lost. Recently a Buddhist student of mine told me that this is what happened to her when her father died unexpectedly.