At this time, my name was Sakyamuni, and I had gone through the three lifetimes of cultivation of Lusena and Kunlushuna and merged into one. I looked at my past calmly among the four growth rings, because they were about to disappear and I forgot who I was.
Still no one has told me, when a Buddha sheds tears when faced with his past, whether he is happy or sad, has he truly forgotten it, or is he remembered again. They pinched the orchids with their fingers, their faces pure, and light and shadow flashed in the air, subtle.
I sit quietly, chanting Buddha in my mouth, but there is no Buddha in my heart. Amitabha, what is Buddha?
Conception: