"It is our duty not to harm others. Yet having a good heart without doing good things is still equal to doing nothing at all."--Master Cheng Yen

The soporific effects of sitting sedentary gradually enveloped my body. With heavy eyelids, I struggled to listen to one of the many classes I was attending. The class was not boring, merely long and conducted in Chinese, not my primary language, which made it all the more difficult for me to tune in and comprehend thoroughly. Hoping to revive myself, I quickly fumbled through my bag and pulled out my small book of aphorisms.

Flip. Flip. "Having a good heart without doing good things is still equal to doing nothing at all." Struck by the line's immediacy and relevance, I jolted awake. "Have I been living my life this way?" It dawned on me that I often felt inaction in life. I could easily let life opportunities slip by through inactivity, even if I was a good person at heart. What would it all go towards in the end? The lessons and messages I had heard in previous classes flashed through my head again. All the speakers had conveyed one thing in common: action. Here at Tzu Chi, action was stressed--actively doing good deeds by going out to give and to help others. Action, not just words... The meaning of this aphorism became ever more clear to me.

The camp

On Sunday, August 3, a group of employees from the Taipei Tzu Chi branch office embarked on a one-week trip to Hualien, Taiwan, for the annual "Tzu Chi Cultural Orientation Camp" for new employees joining the foundation. Clad in uniforms of gray long-sleeved shirts and white pants, Tzu Chi employees boarded the train, anticipating the three-hour ride ahead of them.

Upon arrival at Tzu Chi headquarters, members went to the Still Thoughts Hall, a magnificent building resembling an emperor's palace or grand temple. Inside, they took off their shoes and walked barefoot on the clean wooden and tiled floors. The men and women separated and went to their dorms, where they found their rooms according to their assigned groups, ranging from eight to twelve people.

The next day, the camp began. It ran on a tightly packed schedule that entailed early wake-up calls, hearty and delicious vegetarian meals, classes crammed throughout the day, memorable events, meaningful group discussions, and early lights outs before bedtime.

Each morning, camp participants got up between five and six. After eating breakfast, they made their way to the first of the day's classes. The classes carried the most weight throughout camp. The majority of the time was spent attending lectures by various speakers--Tzu Chi nuns, commissioners, volunteers, teachers, doctors, scholars, and employees who were more than delighted to share their experiences, insights, and life lessons gained from working in the foundation.

Events included touring the headquarters complex facilities, such as Tzu Chi University, and partaking in the construction of a school in progress. Early one morning, camp members clad in straw farmer's hats and white cloth gloves labored like construction workers laying interlocking paving bricks among other tasks.

Highlights of the trip included group discussions scheduled in the evenings, with small groups gathered in circles around lit candles in the dark. These discussions provided opportunities for sharing, learning, and creating moments of intimacy, bonding, and friendship between group members. At the end of each day, camp members retired to their rooms and shared in another common experience--cooperating with each other by waiting in lines to use shared restrooms and showers.

Towards the end of the week, camp participants stayed two days at the Abode of Still Thoughts, the residence of Master Cheng Yen and the other Tzu Chi nuns. Apart from the lack of air conditioning at the Abode, a special feature of the stay included the option of waking up early at 4 a.m. to attend the morning prayer ceremony. Many who opted to participate the first morning found themselves experiencing something unique: a recitation session conducted in Taiwanese, the native dialect of the local people [public ceremonies are usually conducted in Mandarin, the formal national language].

On Saturday, August 9, the camp ended, and the camp participants again boarded the train to return home to Taipei.

Messages and lessons learned

Although classes were a bit of a challenge for me--comprehending the lectures as thoroughly as possible in a second language--I still caught the gist, hearing messages and themes that could be extracted and integrated into a common core. The camp was indeed a cultural orientation to the principles and virtues of Tzu Chi: compassion, wisdom, joy, and unselfish giving were among the many themes expressed under a religious but open environment. After being immersed so long in such a spirited atmosphere, I began to perceive and understand the love and compassion emanating from long-term members and volunteers of the foundation. Beauty and joy radiated from within, shining through the twinkling eyes and kind smiles ever present on Tzu Chi people's faces everywhere.

It's not enough to say you want to help people. You've got to actually do it, which is not an easy thing... This was one of the messages I received from a commissioner, a volunteer doing international relief work with the Tzu Chi missions and also a long-time father of a family. Life is not empty and meaningless. The most important thing in life is your heart in the present moment. Life is impermanent, so one should cherish the karmic affinities [relationships with others based on karma built up in previous lives] one has now. These were some of the well-worn affirmations the commissioner conveyed through his work and experiences witnessing and helping the less fortunate in Taiwan and in underdeveloped countries around the world. He had also experienced the happiness that came with simplicity in life. People have endless afflictions because of their mental attachments to material things. The commissioner said he had changed his mindset after working with the foundation. Gradually learning to let go of his attachments, he found himself having fewer afflictions and more happiness in life.

Letting go is really difficult. We don't fully appreciate something until we lose it... I heard this message from a Tzu Chi high school teacher, who expressed the importance of letting go when faced with difficulties in life. She talked about challenging experiences she had with her siblings when she was in her twenties. After many years, she was able to let go of her resentments towards them and more importantly to forgive. She made another point when she recalled the time when she broke her left arm and lost use of it for an extensive period of time. Sharing the agony, impatience, and lessons learned from the event, she portrayed her poignant realization that one does not truly appreciate something until it is gone or missing from one's life.

We must change ourselves first instead of expecting change from others. Sincerity and love change people. Expressing these in ourselves towards others will inevitably evoke changes in others... Another Tzu Chi commissioner impressed this message in my mind through her remarkable transition as a woman who had struggled in her relationships with her husband and family. She had transformed herself from an impatient, demanding, and bad-tempered person to a kind, gentle but assertive, and compassionate spouse and mother. She explained that everyone possesses an inner beauty that needs to find a way to be expressed forthright, whether it be through one's attitudes, manners, or conduct, including one's facial expressions and tone of voice. After she learned to refine herself through Tzu Chi, she began to change. Her husband, children, and other family members were certainly affected by her treatment towards them, now marked with love, responsibility, appreciation, and acceptance. In turn, they changed their own responses towards her and became more loving people as well. Often sharing her story and personal transformation with others, this commissioner has gone on as a speaker known for her humorous, vivacious style.

To change ourselves, we must change our habits first... To become bodhisattvas [those who compassionately help others without thinking of themselves], we must first transform our mindset from that of an animal to an ordinary person to an extraordinary person and finally to that of a bodhisattva. Getting rid of the "self" requires courage. One who can transform and surpass one's normal "self" can be called "a brave one." I was inspired and intellectually motivated by the messages conveyed by Yao Jen-lu, general manager of the Tzu Chi TV station. He spoke from his experiences working alongside Master Cheng Yen and various other people to achieve the Master's mission of helping people and spreading goodness around the world. He emphasized the importance of learning the Buddha's heart and posed to the audience the question, "What is Great Love?" In the foundation, a well-known aphorism embodies the ideals of Great Love, something that all Tzu Chi people strive towards: "There is no one on this earth I cannot love, trust, and forgive." But this is not very easy to accomplish. Yao went on to suggest and explain ways to change oneself in order to achieve such ideals. At the end of the class, many camp members like myself must have left pondering new ideas and feeling stimulated to further think about what had just been presented.

"The Silent Mentor," a film explaining the Tzu Chi Medical School's use of body donors--the "silent mentors"--who have willingly consented to donate their bodies upon death for medical use in research and learning... Various scenes in this film captured the poignant moments of relatives of body donors meeting with Tzu Chi medical students during prearranged ceremonies before each dissection course. The students would be using the donors' bodies to learn medical knowledge and practice surgery. While the relatives told the students about the body donors, the students solemnly showed their respect, feeling grateful and ever more aware of the impermanence of life. The thought of my own family came to mind. I could picture myself as one of the relatives or students witnessing someone close lying before me. Suddenly, my heart swelled with emotion. Feelings of grief and awareness of death surfaced in me. Who knows when death will come? It will surely come one day to anyone at any time. Do all the people dear to me know how much I love and appreciate them? Have I expressed it enough in my day-to-day life? Life is just too short to live with regrets. We should really cherish and seize the present moment. But we often hold back and forget that death will come to us all. Tears filled my eyes as I empathized with the people in the film. It was an emotionally moving experience for many camp members.

Farewell ceremony

During the concluding ceremony that was held on the last day, Master Cheng Yen shared her final remarks to the camp participants. A representative from each of the 14 small groups went up on stage to give speeches on their thoughts, feelings, or experiences from the camp. Many heard about camp members' reasons for joining Tzu Chi and how they were motivated to become involved. Some openly expressed their emotions on stage and choked up with tears as they recalled inspiring moments and personal transformations they had gone through or were still going through in life. Many obtained a sense of renewal concerning their views and feelings towards the foundation. After the speeches were made, Master Cheng Yen gave her concluding remarks. At this time, all must have felt warmth and connection to their fellow human beings.

In the end, many people left the camp feeling tired but imbued with fresh perspectives about their jobs and their work. Many would return home with lessons and messages heard in the classes. Many would perhaps begin to question and ask themselves what it meant to be Tzu Chi people, not just employees. And perhaps, many would be inspired to contribute to mankind, hopefully going beyond the call of duty to serve and to help others.