On the third day of our talks, I felt a deep, compassionate calling to reveal the hidden dimensions of the world that surrounds us. We often walk through our daily lives under the illusion that the objects we interact with are merely inanimate tools, devoid of or history. Yet, the truth is that space is filled with the presence of spirits, and every corner of our environment holds a unique consciousness. Every moment of our human life is a precious, fleeting opportunity that should not be squandered on trivial pursuits. I sought to interview the spirit residing within a microphone, hoping to bring this reality to light for all to see, that they might understand the interconnectedness of all things. .
As I reached out to the spirit, a sharp, static-filled voice responded with agitation: "Who is there? Who dares to disturb our work? Do you not see that we are busy? We are in the midst of our duties! Go away and wait until we have finished our tasks before you attempt to speak with us!"
I asked with a gentle tone, "What is it that keeps you so occupied? When will you have the time to speak?"
The spirit replied, "Can you not see that we are fulfilling our duty? We allow the speaker to convey their voice to everyone listening. You must wait until the break; only then will I have the time to accept your interview. Stay aside and wait!"
I bowed respectfully and said, "Very well, I understand. I shall wait until the midday break to speak with you. Namo Amituofo."
A Life Defined by the Spotlight
When the break finally arrived, I approached the spirit once more to uncover the story behind this existence. The spirit identified himself as Li Chonghai, a man who had once been a professional news anchor. In his former life, he was obsessed with the clarity and precision of every word he spoke. This professional rigour had become his entire identity, and he carried that same sense of duty into his current state as a microphone, believing that his existence was defined solely by his utility.
He shared his journey, beginning at the age of sixteen. At that time, he was uncertain about his future, but he found solace in the world of news broadcasting. He was mesmerised by the confidence and the atmosphere of the anchors he watched on television. He began to record the news, imitating every word and gesture. He would sit on his sofa at home, holding a makeshift microphone crafted from paper, mimicking the anchors he admired. Despite his parents' initial concerns, they eventually allowed him to pursue this passion as long as it did not interfere with his studies.
He eventually enrolled in a broadcasting and media course at university, hoping to master the craft. However, his academic results did not match his ambitions, and he was forced to study a different subject. Despite this setback, the dream of becoming an anchor remained deeply buried in his heart, a seed of attachment that would eventually dictate his destiny.
The Weight of Unchecked Attachment
After his military service, a unique set of Causal Conditions led him to become a reserve anchor for military news. He finally stood on the stage he had always dreamed of, reporting on policies and events. Though he was initially nervous, he grew more confident with every broadcast. He learned to control his tone and emotions with ease, and his desire to succeed grew even stronger. He spent every spare moment refining his skills, obsessed with the perfection of his performance.
Upon leaving the military, he quickly rose through the ranks at major television stations. Yet, the more he worked, the more he felt a strange, gnawing emptiness. Whenever a broadcast ended, he felt a profound sense of loss, as if something vital had vanished from his life. To escape this inner void, he began to work ten to fifteen hours a day, leaving no time for rest. He even began to host programs in his dreams, unable to detach his mind from the stage.
His health eventually collapsed under the strain. His organs began to fail, and the doctors gave him less than a month to live. Even in the face of death, his greatest fear was not the end of his life, but the loss of his role as an anchor. In his final days, he rolled a piece of paper into a cylinder, pretending he was still on air, directing and performing his own broadcast to escape the crushing weight of his emotions. He chose to end his life early, clutching that paper microphone, believing that without his role as an anchor, he had no reason to exist.
from the Illusion of
When he awoke, he found himself transformed into the very object he had clung to so desperately: a microphone. His attachment to the stage and his desire to be the most brilliant performer had bound his spirit to this form, trapping him in a cycle of service that mirrored his past life. He had become the tool he once held, a manifestation of his own unyielding desire.
I thanked Chonghai for sharing his story. It is a poignant reminder that the anxiety and emptiness we feel in our hearts arise because we have not yet returned to our true nature. This is the great value of the Buddha’s teachings. We are now actively propagating the Dharma, and I told him that he could listen to the Dharma talks within the Dharma-Nature Land. By understanding the Truth, one finally realises the preciousness of the human body and the importance of letting go of worldly attachments. I have written a memorial tablet for him, inviting him to enter the Dharma-Nature Land to listen to the teachings and find liberation. Namo Amituofo.
