No. 0495(Hạt Cát dịch)
Doctoral student balances busy life with Buddhism
By Frank Tankard Published: Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Kansas- Frank Liu sits at a table in the Kansas Union, his fingers touching tip to tip, his palms resting against his chest. A bright afternoon sun from a window illuminates his back.
He bows his head and says one word: “Amitabha.” He repeats it 10 times. Amitabha: endless light, endless life.
He raises his head slowly and smiles. It’s hard not to sense the calm he’s been cultivating for the past three years.
“A peaceful mind will give you a very happy life,” he says softly.
Cheng-Shan Liu, graduate student, displays his Kung-fu skills. He is the president of KU Kung-fu club and former president of KU Amitabha Buddhist Association.
Liu, 29 and from Taipei, Taiwan, is a peaceful man. He’s also a busy man. He’s working on his doctoral thesis in political science. He should graduate in December, maybe May.
He’s president of KU Kung-fu Club, former president and current member of the KU Buddhist Association, former president of the Taiwanese Student Association and a graduate teaching assistant in political science.
Liu says he has two secrets to controlling his busy life: Pure Land Buddhism and tai chi, a Chinese exercise of balance and meditation. He says the disciplines work in combination to calm his mind.
“You can say Buddhism is different than tai chi,” he says. “You can say they’re the same thing.”
Liu started learning both disciplines in the spring of 2002 while wrapping up his master’s degree in political science.
He describes his mind, his life, as being hectic then. After spending two years at the University and serving as president of the Taiwanese Student Association, everything seemed to unravel.
He applied to six colleges to pursue his doctorate and got two rejection letters and four non-responses.
“Now my dream’s broken, it’s gone,” he says. “I was very sad.”
Liu hadn’t considered staying at the University of Kansas. He didn’t even renew the lease on his apartment.
Liu leans forward in his chair, remembering the moment when his life changed. It was May 2002, and he was alone at midnight in a room of Summerfield Hall, putting the final touches on his master’s dissertation, due the next morning.
He hadn’t saved his work for five hours. His computer crashed. The only trace of the culmination of two years of study was the incomplete paper from five hours ago. He searched every folder. Nothing. So he wished.
Liu leans closer.
“I made a wish in my mind to the universe,” he says. “I was talking to myself, saying, ‘Right now I need a miracle, but I don’t believe in that at all. If I get a miracle,’ I say, ‘I will study Buddhism.’ So I say, ‘Amitabha,’ the Buddhist chant. I say to myself this, and I reboot my system. It’s midnight, or 10 past 12, and the document’s back.”
The moment wasn’t magic, Liu says, but it wasn’t dumb luck either.
“Don’t think Buddhism will give you magic powers,” he says. “A peaceful mind will make you happy and that’s where good luck comes from. It’s not about being a vegetarian or not. It’s not about bowing to Buddha or not. There’s no mystery in Buddhism.”
Since that moment, Liu says he’s dedicated himself to the study of Pure Land Buddhism, a sect of Buddhism popular in East Asia. He started regularly attending the KU Buddhist Association’s Wednesday night meditations, reading the Sutra and chanting. He served as president of the KU Buddhist Association for two years.
Liu also began practicing tai chi with the Kung-fu Club on Tuesday nights. He became president of that organization as well, and he still holds that position.
Shortly after that May night, Liu received an e-mail from Robert Huckfeldt, a well-known scholar from Indiana University, who advised him to study under a KU professor named Paul Johnson.
Liu had taken one of Johnson’s classes but didn’t know Johnson was interested in the same brand of political science that interested him.
So he decided to stay at the University under Johnson’s tutelage. It would be a challenge because he was no longer enrolled and he didn’t have a place to live.
After a month-long search for affordable housing, one of his friends left for Taiwan and leased an apartment to him. Then Liu found an opening for a teaching assistant for a Chinese class in the East Asian Languages and Cultures department. It’s been smooth sailing since then.
Liu now wears chanting beads on his right wrist and keeps a card containing a picture of Buddha in his wallet to remind him to chant. He tries to chant “Amitabha” continuously and clear his mind of all other thoughts.
“It’s just my personal story,” he says, “but I’ve seen many, many stories like mine since I started Buddhism. There’s something very profound out there.”
http://www.kansan.com/stories/2005/aug/30/profile/
Doctoral student balances busy life with Buddhism
By Frank Tankard Published: Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Kansas- Frank Liu sits at a table in the Kansas Union, his fingers touching tip to tip, his palms resting against his chest. A bright afternoon sun from a window illuminates his back.
He bows his head and says one word: “Amitabha.” He repeats it 10 times. Amitabha: endless light, endless life.
He raises his head slowly and smiles. It’s hard not to sense the calm he’s been cultivating for the past three years.
“A peaceful mind will give you a very happy life,” he says softly.
Cheng-Shan Liu, graduate student, displays his Kung-fu skills. He is the president of KU Kung-fu club and former president of KU Amitabha Buddhist Association.
Liu, 29 and from Taipei, Taiwan, is a peaceful man. He’s also a busy man. He’s working on his doctoral thesis in political science. He should graduate in December, maybe May.
He’s president of KU Kung-fu Club, former president and current member of the KU Buddhist Association, former president of the Taiwanese Student Association and a graduate teaching assistant in political science.
Liu says he has two secrets to controlling his busy life: Pure Land Buddhism and tai chi, a Chinese exercise of balance and meditation. He says the disciplines work in combination to calm his mind.
“You can say Buddhism is different than tai chi,” he says. “You can say they’re the same thing.”
Liu started learning both disciplines in the spring of 2002 while wrapping up his master’s degree in political science.
He describes his mind, his life, as being hectic then. After spending two years at the University and serving as president of the Taiwanese Student Association, everything seemed to unravel.
He applied to six colleges to pursue his doctorate and got two rejection letters and four non-responses.
“Now my dream’s broken, it’s gone,” he says. “I was very sad.”
Liu hadn’t considered staying at the University of Kansas. He didn’t even renew the lease on his apartment.
Liu leans forward in his chair, remembering the moment when his life changed. It was May 2002, and he was alone at midnight in a room of Summerfield Hall, putting the final touches on his master’s dissertation, due the next morning.
He hadn’t saved his work for five hours. His computer crashed. The only trace of the culmination of two years of study was the incomplete paper from five hours ago. He searched every folder. Nothing. So he wished.
Liu leans closer.
“I made a wish in my mind to the universe,” he says. “I was talking to myself, saying, ‘Right now I need a miracle, but I don’t believe in that at all. If I get a miracle,’ I say, ‘I will study Buddhism.’ So I say, ‘Amitabha,’ the Buddhist chant. I say to myself this, and I reboot my system. It’s midnight, or 10 past 12, and the document’s back.”
The moment wasn’t magic, Liu says, but it wasn’t dumb luck either.
“Don’t think Buddhism will give you magic powers,” he says. “A peaceful mind will make you happy and that’s where good luck comes from. It’s not about being a vegetarian or not. It’s not about bowing to Buddha or not. There’s no mystery in Buddhism.”
Since that moment, Liu says he’s dedicated himself to the study of Pure Land Buddhism, a sect of Buddhism popular in East Asia. He started regularly attending the KU Buddhist Association’s Wednesday night meditations, reading the Sutra and chanting. He served as president of the KU Buddhist Association for two years.
Liu also began practicing tai chi with the Kung-fu Club on Tuesday nights. He became president of that organization as well, and he still holds that position.
Shortly after that May night, Liu received an e-mail from Robert Huckfeldt, a well-known scholar from Indiana University, who advised him to study under a KU professor named Paul Johnson.
Liu had taken one of Johnson’s classes but didn’t know Johnson was interested in the same brand of political science that interested him.
So he decided to stay at the University under Johnson’s tutelage. It would be a challenge because he was no longer enrolled and he didn’t have a place to live.
After a month-long search for affordable housing, one of his friends left for Taiwan and leased an apartment to him. Then Liu found an opening for a teaching assistant for a Chinese class in the East Asian Languages and Cultures department. It’s been smooth sailing since then.
Liu now wears chanting beads on his right wrist and keeps a card containing a picture of Buddha in his wallet to remind him to chant. He tries to chant “Amitabha” continuously and clear his mind of all other thoughts.
“It’s just my personal story,” he says, “but I’ve seen many, many stories like mine since I started Buddhism. There’s something very profound out there.”
http://www.kansan.com/stories/2005/aug/30/profile/
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