大家好！
當我在大殿打坐休息時，我怕我的冤親債主會不會覺得我太舒服了？
原本我覺得我不可能抽離，但我現在竟然可以抽離一下下，我覺得不可思議。
以上是大妹跟我說的話⋯⋯
我的大妹有著極其辛苦的一生⋯⋯
小時候，妹妹是個特別聽話的孩子，她學書法，寫魏碑，每次比賽，都得第一。她學古箏，每天晚上鏗鏗鏘鏘的練習，還得過全國賽獎盃。
但是，妹妹很固執，固執於想當老師。
她連續考了兩年師大工教系，都以零點零幾成績，備一落榜。
從此，妹妹凡事變得非常極端非常固執。
自從妹妹的孩子出生後，被診斷為自閉症，妹妹開始了我無法想像的辛苦日子。強大的母愛加上固執的性格，20幾年來，妹妹所付出的金錢與心力，難以言說。
我常常不忍去看妹妹，因為我知道我無法給她任何幫助。
她的固執，會把任何話語，都負面解讀。妹妹和孩子，像一股強大的漩渦，攪在一起，旁人無法靠近。
前兩年，孩子越大越難帶，妹妹從公務機關退休，專心顧孩子。
孩子常有突發的攻擊性（或許孩子想表達什麼，卻找不到方法，只好攻擊），
偶爾家族旅行，大家壓力都很大。總是看著妹妹，牽著橫衝直撞的孩子的手，不斷的跟認識的人、不認識的人道歉，
我看在眼裡，心中五味雜成，常想掉淚，只能轉身不看。
退休的這兩年，妹妹每天開車從台中到南投民間鄉的一間教養院，讓孩子在那個地方上課。
妹妹年輕時原本就是佛教徒，她吃素、會幫人助唸，也喜歡朝山。
最近一次去朝山，她遇見一位長年學佛的居士，老居士跟她說，雖然學佛很久了，可是還是很恐慌。
這句話給妹妹很大的震撼，好像第一次聽到資深佛教徒也會恐慌。
也不知道是什麼機緣，她去民間教養院時，裡面的老師竟然答應她不用陪孩子，可以出去走走。（她之前不論在行動或思想都離不開孩子）。
於是，她去了附近的白毫禪寺，她在寺裡掃地、清潔大殿，在大殿打坐休息，也跟師父用午膳。
師父知道她的情況，也會跟她說說話。
她好喜歡這段時間。清明節掃墓時，她跟我說她去寺裏，
她說，她竟然可以抽離一下下，她之前連一點點抽離的想法都不可能。更好的是，她能抽離到寺裡，在大殿打掃、休息、聽師父說話。
但她又跟我說，當在大殿打坐休息時，她怕她的冤親債主，會不會覺得她太舒服了！？
我聽了，只覺得太誇張了。
我開玩笑跟她說，可不可以在大殿跟冤親債主說：讓我休息一下，讓我頭腦清楚一點、有能力一點時，再來還債啊！
我後來還跟妹妹談了一點重罪輕受以及菩薩畏因、眾生畏果的想法。我也不大確定自己傳達是否正確，總之，一股腦的跟妹妹說。
和妹妹的談話，讓我意識到兩個問題：
1首先當她說：抽離，這兩個字觸動了我。
抽離，不容易啊！對自己過往的感情抽離，從對孩子巨大的感情抽離，是多麼不容易的事。如果能抽離ㄧ點，是否代表跨出自我感情的一小部份。
用師父的話說，哪怕是0.1公分也值得。
2再者：冤親債主會不會覺得她在大殿太舒服了？她是否無法享有平靜？
或許是這輩子真的是太苦了吧！妹妹每天ㄧ大早，會跪拜88拜，懺悔，跟冤親債主懺悔。
她覺得，是自己有許多冤親債主，這世才會那麼苦、是來還債的吧！
對於她的想法，我真的無言。
我只告訴她，就我接觸的佛法，我不知道我到底有多少冤親債主，我也不知道，我何時能還完，但我知道，
一個人可以從改變自己的大腦、自己的思想著手，當能開始面對自己的頑固，願意挑戰自己的感情，際遇應當會有所不同。
很奇怪的是，妹妹竟然能理解及認同我說的話。於是，我把半寄師父選集一書，贈送給她。
A
Sharing from Teacher Yaling Hong
Greetings,
friends of NanZen!
‘When I was
meditating and resting in the main hall of the temple,
I wondered—would my karmic creditors think I was being too
comfortable? I used to
think it was impossible for me to detach
from my child,but now, I
find that I can actually detach—
even if just a little. It
feels incredible.’
That’s
what my younger sister told me…
She has
lived an incredibly difficult life.
As a
child, she was especially obedient. She studied calligraphy, practicing the Wei
stele style, and always won first prize in competitions. She also learned the
guzheng, practicing diligently every night with its resonant sounds filling the
house—and even won national awards.
But my
sister was also very stubborn—especially about her dream of becoming a teacher.
She took
the entrance exam for the Industrial Education Department at the Normal
University twice. Both times, she missed the passing score by just a fraction
of a point.
After
that, she became extremely rigid and uncompromising in everything.
When her
child was born and later diagnosed with autism, her unimaginably tough journey
began. Her powerful maternal love, combined with her unyielding nature, drove
her to dedicate over twenty years of effort and money—beyond what words can
express.
I often
avoid visiting her, because I know there’s nothing I can do to help.
Her
stubbornness leads her to interpret even the kindest words negatively. She and
her child are like a powerful whirlpool, —entangled together—making it hard for
anyone to get close.
In the
past two years, as her child grew harder to manage, she retired from her
government job to care for him full time.
Her
child often displays sudden aggressive behavior—maybe he wants to communicate,
but doesn’t know how, so aggression becomes the only outlet.
During
family trips, everyone is under pressure. We always see her holding her unruly
child’s hand, constantly apologizing to both friends and strangers. Watching
this breaks my heart. I often turn away, fighting back tears.
Since
retiring, she has been driving daily from Taichung to a special education
center in Mingjian Township, Nantou, where her child attends classes.
She was
originally a devoted Buddhist—vegetarian, helping with chanting services, and
fond of pilgrimage walks.
On a
recent pilgrimage, she met an elderly lay Buddhist who told her, “Even after
practicing Buddhism for many years, I still feel anxious and fear.”
This
deeply shook my sister. It was the first time she realized that even long-time
practitioners could feel fear.
And
somehow, perhaps through some unseen karmic opportunity, one day when she
brought her son to the center, the teacher there told her she didn’t need to
stay—she could go out and take a break. (Until then, she had never mentally or
physically separated from her child.)
So, she
went to the nearby Baihao Zen Monastery.
There,
she swept the floors, cleaned the main hall, meditated and rested, and had
lunch with the monks. The abbot, who knew her situation, would talk to her
occasionally.
She
loved that time at the temple.
During
the Qingming Festival, she told me she had returned to the monastery. She said
she could now detach a little—even just a little—which had once seemed
completely impossible.
And better
yet, she could ‘detach to a temple’ —to clean, to rest, to listen to the
Dharma.
But then
she said, “When I’m meditating in the hall, I worry—what if my karmic creditors
think I’m too comfortable?”
I
thought this was a bit much.
Jokingly,
I told her, “Why not tell your karmic creditors: Let me rest a bit—so that when
I’m clearer and stronger, I can pay my debts back better!”
Later, I
spoke to her about the Buddhist ideas that severe karmic causes may lead to
lighter consequences if we sincerely repent, and about the saying,
“Bodhisattvas fear the cause; sentient beings fear the result.”
I’m not
even sure if I expressed it well—I just poured it all out.
Our talk
left me thinking about two things:
1. The
word ‘detach’ really moved me.
To detach—from
past emotional entanglements, from intense bonds with her child—is no easy
feat.
To
achieve even a sliver of detachment might mean she is beginning to step outside
the total immersion of her emotions.
As Master
Banji once said—even just 0.1 centimeters is worth celebrating.
2. Her
worry—"Would my karmic creditors think I’m too comfortable in the main
hall?"—suggests she feels undeserving of peace.
Maybe
life has truly been too bitter for her.
Every
morning, she performs 88 prostrations, repenting to her karmic creditors.
She
believes her immense suffering in this life is due to a great number of past
karmic debts. She’s here to repay them.
I had no
words.
All I
could tell her was: from what I’ve learned in Buddhism, I don’t know how many
karmic creditors I have, nor when I’ll have repaid them.
But I do
know this—one can start by changing one’s own thoughts and mind.
If we
begin to face our stubbornness and dare to challenge our emotions, life’s
trajectory may change.
Strangely
enough, she understood—and agreed.
So I
gave her a copy of Master Ban Ji’s Selected Writings.
洪雅玲老師分享她大妹的故事，
記得這個小孩剛生兩三天，我半夜兩三點被叫起來幫他做迴向，因為他一直血尿。
後來聽說他有點智障，我看了一下他確實沒有腦可以用
，
但她大妹住台中要來屏東也不是這麼簡單的事，雖然見過面，但是她結婚以後始終緣慳一面。
她的情況也讓她聽不下去別人的話語，
但我很清楚這個要從明白佛法先解開，
才能喘息一下。
就像雅玲偶爾傳述一下也道盡辛酸。
慶幸，她終於可以看看外面的世界在說些什麼。
㊗️福
半寄
Greetings,
friends of NanZen!
Story
of Yaling Hong’s Younger Sister
I
remembered when the child was just two or three days old, I was woken up around
2 or 3 a.m. to perform a dedication of merits for him because he kept having
blood in his urine.
Later, I
heard he had some intellectual disabilities. When I took a closer look, Later on,
I heard he had some intellectual disabilities. When I looked at him, it truly
seemed like his brain wasn’t functioning properly.
But her
younger sister lives in Taichung, and it’s not easy for her to travel all the
way to Pingtung. Although we’ve met before, since she got married, we’ve barely
had the chance to see each other.
Her situation
also makes it hard for her to listen to what others say.
Still, I
knew clearly that the first step toward relief had to come from understanding
the Dharma.
Sometimes,
when Yaling shares bits and pieces of her sister’s story, it reveals all the
sorrow and pain she’s endured.
Fortunately,
her sister is now finally able to look at what the world outside is saying.
🌸 Wishing her blessings.
Master
Banji
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