Take disputes with others as an education. You can then turn undesirable events into instruments for reorganizing yourself. Don't take different viewpoints as disputes, for it will make your life miserable. In essence, all the minor incidents in life are living sutras.

[Ms. Heller, a graduate student in religious studies at Harvard University, spent a year in Taiwan learning classical Chinese in order to do research in Buddhist sutras. During this time, she provided invaluable assistance to our Foreign Language Publications Department.]

I am getting ready to leave Taiwan now, packing up the many books, photographs, and notes on classical Chinese that I have acquired during my stay here. Naturally, as I do so, I think back to my first few days in Taiwan, which were, frankly speaking, horrible.

My luggage spent a day in Tokyo that I did not. I had nightmares in the hotel near the airport. My first morning in Taiwan, I had a simple breakfast of toast and tea. After finishing, I promptly threw up in the hotel lobby bathroom. It was blistering hot in Taipei, when the bus from Chiang Kai-Shek airport dropped me, as far as I could tell, in the middle of nowhere. The youth hostel in which I had reserved a room was run-down, hot, and noisy. I lay on the bed there, trying to catch the slight breeze from the fan, and thought of going home-as soon as my luggage rejoined me.

I cannot say that I have ever adjusted to Taipei's heat, but things smoothed out considerably and I am truly sad to be leaving Taiwan. As I thought back to these first days, I thought to myself that it might be handy if Tzu Chi distributed a copy of Still Thoughts to foreign students as they arrive at CKS airport.

What is hardest about living in a foreign country is the little things, the little differences to which you are not accustomed, which pile up as the days drift into weeks and months. Away from family and friends, it is difficult not to let small frustrations pile up into large sources of stress. For example, there was a time when riding the bus was utter agony for me. First I had to figure out the Taipei bus guide, which in some instances meant trying to discover which of the five Taipei Railway Station stops might be where the bus I wanted stopped. Then I had to patiently wait for the but, push my way onto buses often packed like tins of sardines, grab something to steady myself, and try to control my outrage at Taipei traffic and the sadistic but driver as we lurched toward our destination. I would look at the people peacefully napping in their seats and think that I would never, ever be able to do that.

Eventually I realized that the angry monologues which ran through my head on these bus rides were not changing the driver's style, and they weren't helping me arrive at my destination in a cheerful mood, either. The bus would lurch, I would mentally scowl at the driver, then blame Taipei's traffic, which led to a whole slew of angry thoughts about people making illegal turns, other people cutting in front of the bus on their scooters, the lethargy of the MRT project, the city government's inability to do something about all this, and global pollution. One pothole could leave me glowering in resentment at a whole branch of Taiwan's government and worrying about the greenhouse effect.

Needless to say, I didn't enjoy my rides to school very much.

At the same time, I was working at the Tzu Chi branch office, helping to edit English translations of Master Cheng Yen's writings and articles for the English Tzu Chi Quarterly magazine. Apparently, the words I rearranged on the computer screen began to sink in, and I was also affected by the pleasant attitudes of everyone at the Tzu Chi branch. When I had a free moment at home, I would often open Still Thoughts and read a few pages.

I soon realized the obvious: that the negative thoughts that ran through my head as I rode the bus didn't change the situation any, but by changing my thoughts, I could influence the effect that the situation had on me. I started to bring my tape-player on the bus and immerse myself in music during the ride. I began to think more pleasant and happy thoughts. I looked at the sometimes long walks to the bus stop as an opportunity for exercise. Slowly and gradually, my attitude toward riding the bus improved. Sometime this spring, I found myself stepping on a jam-packed bus without it really bothering me. If I got a seat, I could relax enough that the idea of napping didn't seem so remote after all.

Now, obviously, this change of attitude was not limited just to bus travel. I took to heart the Master's counsel to treat every situation as a sutra, to learn what we can from the difficulties and challenges we face every day. It hardly needs to be said that American culture is quite different from Chinese culture. There are many differences in manners and how people handle encounters with others. These differences often leave foreigners somewhat confused in the realm of interpersonal relationships.

One may be a very good student in this realm, but misunderstandings and awkward situations are bound to arise. I found that thinking of these situations as an opportunity to learn more about myself and Taiwanese society helped me to keep my cool and made it easier to look at the situation calmly and objectively. I think I have learned how to better respond to others and how far a simple smile can go in communication.