About Me

I used to believe that a parent’s love for their child was unconditional—that it was the purest form of love. But over time, I began to realize that much of the pain people experience in adulthood stems from their childhood.

This left me deeply puzzled. I began observing how people around me defined love, how they expressed it, and how different cultures interpreted it. It seemed that love had no universal definition—each person, each culture, had its own understanding of it.

This curiosity led me to study psychology. The first course I encountered was The Science of Happiness by Professor Tal Ben-Shahar at Harvard University. His approach was rigorous and scientific—he rarely expressed personal opinions, instead striving to remain as objective as possible.

At the end of his course, he summarized four key practices to enhance happiness:

• Thirty minutes of exercise at least four times a week.
• At least 15 minutes of meditation, six to seven times a week.
• Eight hours of sleep every night.
• At least 12 hugs a day.

His course also touched on love and self-esteem with the same disciplined, evidence-based approach. Instead of offering a clear definition of love, he presented data-driven insights into how to improve romantic relationships and self-worth.

Although I didn’t find the ultimate answer I was looking for, I remain deeply grateful for Tal Ben-Shahar’s teachings—not just for the content of his lessons, but also for his academic rigor and his remarkable humility. His influence shaped many aspects of my life. Over the years, I became more proactive and optimistic.

One day, as usual, I was taking the train to work during the morning rush hour. The platform was crowded with people. As I stood there observing my surroundings, an inexplicable stillness washed over me. The noise of the world seemed to fade, and I felt as though the people, the environment, and I had merged into one.

My heart was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of compassion. It’s difficult to put that experience into words—it was something I had never encountered before in my life.

I don’t know how long that state lasted, but in the days that followed, I started spending my commute drawing portraits of strangers on the train and giving them away with heartfelt blessings.

During my morning and evening meditations, I began entering a strange and profound state. As soon as I closed my eyes, I would lose all sensation of my body—my mind could no longer perceive where my limbs were, yet my awareness remained crystal clear. At times, vivid images would flash through my mind, like a movie playing before my eyes. Some of these images triggered an inexplicable wave of emotions, even bringing me to tears.

Curious, I tried opening my eyes several times, wondering if the sensation would disappear. But even with my eyes open, I still couldn’t feel my body or move. The images in my mind continued—faces I had never seen before appeared with striking clarity.

If a friend hadn’t told me this was a spiritual awakening, I might have thought something was seriously wrong with me. I started researching online, expecting this to be an extremely rare phenomenon. But to my surprise, when I opened YouTube, I found countless people sharing their experiences of awakening—each with their own unique journey. Some were so mystical that I couldn’t comprehend them at the time.

Only now do I finally understand what I felt at the train station—that state was the result of energy moving through my body, reaching my brain, and expanding my sensory perception beyond its usual limits. Many long-term practitioners of spiritual disciplines have experienced similar sensations. ,

That heightened state of awareness lasted for about one or two weeks before things took a drastic turn. I started experiencing headaches—mild at first, but progressively worsening. Then came the sleepless nights. I would wake up repeatedly, feeling waves of heat surging from the base of my spine, spreading throughout my body. My body would shake uncontrollably, sometimes for hours on end, even for an entire night. It felt as though I had lost control over my physical form. And yet, even when I closed my eyes, I continued to dream while fully awake.

Beyond the physical symptoms, my emotions also became overwhelmingly intense. At work, I felt suffocated, trapped by an indescribable panic that made me want to escape. Although I knew these were common symptoms of spiritual awakening, I still went to see a doctor. The medical diagnosis? Everything was normal.

But the fear inside me became so unbearable that I eventually requested to work from home. Later, I resigned altogether. It wasn’t until much later that I finally understood the cause of my headaches—it was the result of blocked energy trying to move through my brain.

The heat I felt at the base of my spine was actually the kundalini energy—also known as the sacred fire—rising within me. Everyone has this life energy, though not everyone experiences it so intensely. Yogis who practice for years often encounter similar sensations, and in Tibetan Buddhism, there are dedicated practitioners of Tummo yoga, or inner fire meditation.

At first, I was shocked when I saw images of monks meditating in the snow, wrapped in wet blankets, using only their body heat to dry them. But in ancient Indian medicine, the body’s seven chakras are well documented. When kundalini energy awakens and rises, it moves through these chakras. If any chakra is blocked, it can cause physical pain in the corresponding area of the body.

A spiritual awakening is essentially the opening of the crown chakra. From this perspective, my headaches were a sign that my crown chakra was blocked—energy was unable to flow freely, which caused pain. And judging by the intensity of my experience, my blockages must have been severe.

Many people, even if they read the Bible or Buddhist scriptures and understand that they have Buddha nature and their original nature is good, still struggle to equate their true identity with that of God or Buddha. This is because the concept of the small self formed through our life experiences is in direct opposition to our true nature. As Plato said, our soul is at odds with our body and senses. The mind is full of contradictions, leaving you nowhere to escape, coupled with a sense of powerlessness in the body.

Therefore, the process during this period is painful, but once it passes, one feels immense gratitude for that experience. The feelings of worthlessness and meaninglessness compel you to ask, “Who am I?”

This question of life cannot be truly understood just by others telling you; it must be realized by yourself. What others tell you is only a concept, but what you discover for yourself is the truth.

One day, a lemon I placed in a glass jar mysteriously disappeared. The jar was tightly sealed, without a trace of being disturbed. I was completely bewildered.

On another occasion, the green crystal at my bedside rolled off and fell under the bed. I heard the sound of it hitting the bed frame, so I went to pick it up. I searched the entire area under the bed, the desk, and every corner of the room for over half an hour but couldn’t find it. Just as I was about to give up and leave for the living room, I casually glanced at my wallet on the sofa and thought to myself, “It couldn’t be in there, could it?” To my surprise, the crystal was quietly sitting inside it.

Had this happened at another time, I might’ve assumed I was simply mistaken. But during this awakening phase, these events felt symbolic. I began asking: Why is this happening?

Later, I discovered I could speak a very unusual language. While showering, I would unconsciously sing in it. I didn’t understand what it meant, yet when I met certain spiritually gifted people, they spoke the same language—and understood me. It was surreal.

I also began receiving vivid inner visions. In one, a beautiful girl held my hand as we painted. I tried to recreate that image but couldn’t match its purity, even after years of painting. It felt like it had come from somewhere beyond my conscious mind.

Eventually, I realized that some people are able to manifest objects through spiritual power. There are even schools that teach this. While Buddhist texts speak of such powers, they also warn against chasing them. Master Nan Huai-chin, for example, always emphasized spiritual clarity over magic.

I went to a spiritual festival in Sydney and was amazed by the variety: Tarot, divination, crystals, spirit art, and more. One healer I met said she recognized me from a past life. She believed I was a natural healer and even made me a custom plant-based spray as a gift. She taught me a lot—but still, something inside felt unsettled.

Despite the kindness, I wasn’t sure if this path was mine. I realized: pursuing spiritual powers is still looking outward. True awakening is looking inward. Powers, visions, and chakra openings are just side effects—not the goal.

Dr. Yang Dingyi, a scientist, also talks about such phenomena but reminds us not to attach to them. These experiences pass. The real path is within.

One day, I read a passage from Autobiography of a Yogi that changed everything. It described asking, “What is behind the darkness when I close my eyes?” I followed that guidance. I lay in bed, asked “What is this? Who am I?” and focused on the silence.

A light appeared near my left ear. It grew, shifted to my brain, and my entire body began to ache—from my arms to my toes. I endured the pain without moving. Afterward, my arms remained numb for two days. But something had changed. A few days later, I had another experience of clarity that lasted for four hours. I finally understood my true identity.

This wasn’t theoretical—it was real. All the contradictions vanished. I realized: our ego is the illusion. When the illusion dissolves, we awaken.

The lemon and the crystal were signs. Consciousness can shape matter. Inner wounds heal through self-inquiry. Pain is not punishment—it’s purification.

I now see that even confusion, setbacks, and suffering were gifts. They forced me to reflect and return to goodness. I understand now: true healing is self-healing, and the path is inward.

As Master Nan said: start with ordinary things. Work with integrity. Be honest. Don’t escape through fantasies. True virtue is built through reflection and consistent alignment with truth.

And now, after this first phase of awakening, everything is clear. I feel refreshed. I know what’s right, and what to do next. The answer is love, goodness, and truth.