A former Tibetan serf once complained: "I herded sheep for my master for twenty-five years, yet never knew what mutton tasted like." This feeling is deeply unsettling. From a worldly perspective, to face meat walking before your eyes every day and yet never taste it seems unbearable. Later, this serf became a monk and had an epiphany: "On the sky burial platform, vultures eat human flesh to carry the soul to heaven; humans eat mutton merely for taste, and as a result, the sheep lose their bodies while humans lose their souls. Those meat-eaters may have long since died, but I, the monk, am still joyfully alive." This story also brings me joy. When I dine at restaurants, I often wonder: those hard-working servers who bring delicious dishes to tables every day—have they ever tasted those flavors themselves? My heart once felt injustice for their plight. But SARS changed my view: diners who ate civet cats faced a collective uprising of the SARS virus, which rebelled within their bodies, while nearly all the servers remained unscathed—only one chef who secretly sampled the dish不幸 drew the short straw. If everyone refrained from eating meat for twenty-five years, not only would they avoid becoming serfs, but some might become living Buddhas or simply joyful, healthy people. The animals spared from becoming human food might even joyfully reincarnate as humans.
Losing Oneself
Two classmates graduated from university and came together to Guangzhou to make their way in the world. Jia quickly closed a major deal and was promoted to department manager; Yi performed poorly, remained a salesperson, and became Jia's subordinate. Yi felt unbalanced and anxiously went to a temple to seek help from a monk, praying for divine assistance. The monk said: "Wait three years and see." Three years later, he returned to the monk, dejectedly saying: "Jia is now a general manager." The monk replied: "Wait another three years and see." After three more years, he went back to the monk, angrily saying: "Jia has become his own boss!" The monk said: "I myself have become the abbot from an ordinary monk. We are both ourselves—then who are you? We all live for ourselves, overseeing our own responsibilities. What are you doing? You live painfully for Jia, monitoring him. What you've lost isn't position, money, or face—you've lost yourself."
A year later, Yi came again, gleefully saying: "Monk, you were wrong—Jia's company went bankrupt, and he's in prison." The monk remained silent, feeling compassion in his heart: "Even in prison and bankrupt, Jia is still himself. You, poor soul, are still not yourself."
Ten years later, Jia, serving his sentence in prison, reflected on life and wrote a book. It caused a sensation, becoming a bestseller. Jia received a reduced sentence and was released early. He traveled everywhere, met journalists, signed books, and became a hugely famous celebrity, enjoying immense fame. Jia even appeared on television with the monk, discussing Buddhism and inspiring people as a celebrity.
Yi sat in his rented apartment watching television, flipping through Jia's book, his heart filled with intense pain.
He sent the monk a text message: "I believe in fate now—Jia managed to achieve such glory even from prison."
The monk texted back: "Amitabha, you still haven't found yourself."
This man Yi thus spent his entire life having lost himself.