What happened when I truly became aware of my fundamental attachment

Facebook Logo LinkedIn Logo Twitter Logo Email Logo Pinterest Logo

My name is Marita, a practitioner from Germany, and I obtained the Fa in 1999.

Inspired by a report at the Fa Conference and sharing in Berlin, and by general discussions in the German-speaking region of Europe, our coordinator organised a group telephone call with a practitioner from Berlin for our next weekly experience-sharing session in Frankfurt. On that call, he explained in simple terms why he thought the topic was so important. He told us that some practitioners might have left the world prematurely because they had not recognised their fundamental attachments. He said that was the case in at least two instances where practitioners had spoken with him and, in each case, they said: ‘No, I don’t know what my fundamental attachment is.’

Upon hearing this, I thought: ‘Oh, that doesn’t sound good.’ This was especially so because we had also read Master’s remarks on this subject in “Towards Consummation”:

“During the course of cultivation, however, through reading the books, studying the Fa, and diligently making progress, you should clearly recognize what your thoughts were when you first came to Dafa. After cultivating for a period of time, are your thoughts still the same? Are you continuing on the path because of those human attachments? If so, you cannot be counted as my disciple. It means that you haven’t gotten rid of your fundamental attachments and that you are unable to understand the Fa from the Fa. Those who have been weeded out during the evil tests that Dafa has encountered in China are all people who have not gotten rid of those attachments. At the same time, they have had a negative effect on Dafa.”

That was, of course, a very serious statement, and I just thought to myself: ‘How did I come to Dafa?’ At the time, I was searching for the true Way of cultivation. I’d already gone down the wrong path twice, and now, with great determination, I had decided: ‘I must find a true Master; I need to find the true Way of cultivation.’ That was my deepest wish. At that moment, I had a vision in my mind’s eye of countless particles of light falling from above like sparkling raindrops. Three months later, I was standing in the bookshop in front of the book Falun Gong, opened it, and leafed through it.

Immediately the thought struck me: ‘This is something so pure, something truly sublime, and it’s not of this world; it’s better than the other paths I’ve followed before,’ and I bought the book. However, I wasn’t a cultivator at that time. I was acting entirely as a human being. I was using it, so to speak, as a means to an end—to leave this world. I realized that this cultivation practice provided me with the opportunity to do so. And I had never really let go of that thought. Just as Master says in the same Jingwen: “Are you continuing on the path because of those human attachments? If so, you cannot be counted as my disciple.” (from “Towards Consummation”)

Then my thoughts began to circle. Where am I stuck in my cultivation? Where am I struggling? Where do I feel resistance? What is the connection with my fundamental attachment? The first realization was that my stubborn attachment—which had arisen quite early in my life—had been holding me back from doing the exercises. For me, leaving this world always meant departing as a spiritual being WITHOUT my body—and this was crucial—without my body. That way of thinking was normal for someone with a Christian background, which was where I came from. I wanted to leave because I found this world too squalid and too dirty. I had the feeling: ‘I don’t belong here; I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing here. I just want to leave.’

Of course, I’ve been practicing Falun Dafa for 27 years now—a cultivation way for body and mind. I can correct myself using my true spirit. I know what is right and can pass it on to others correctly, but deep down I hadn’t really let go of that other thought. And it always held me back. It was always looking for a loophole. Whenever I read in the Fa how important and essential the exercises are, I would think of the passages that say studying the Fa is even more important than practicing the exercises. That would then reassure my attachment again.

Or to put it even more plainly: Dafa is a cultivation way for both body and mind, and there is a passage in a Jingwen which essentially states that there are also exceptions where practitioners will enter their heavenly realm without their physical bodies. I then chose this heavenly realm for myself at an emotional level.

‘It will be all right,’ I thought, ‘our Master is merciful.’ I always found the loophole whenever I looked for it. At the same time, I knew subconsciously that my thoughts were just excuses, and that I was twisting the actual meaning to suit my own attachment. But my programmed mind—or rather, my hyper-vigilant attachment—always had the relevant passages from the Fa at the ready. It was like an auto-correction function driven by my attachment. It was always there.

The moment I realized all this—and just how deep it went, and that it was so fundamental—something suddenly clicked into place. This sharing took place on a Friday, and on Sundays I regularly share experiences in another group. Many examples of my rejection of my own body immediately sprang to mind. It happened almost automatically.

And then something happened at my practice. I’m a doctor, a GP, and my practice is where I meet people, where I have almost all of my contacts, and where I also talk about Shen Yun. That had always worked well in previous years.

Shen Yun had been performing in Frankfurt every year since 2008, with only a brief interruption. I’d always had the chance to put up posters in the practice, to lay out brochures and leaflets, and even to show people the programs from the previous years.

But this year it was quite strange. Nobody took a flyer, even though several were lying on the consultation table right next to the visitors. They couldn’t have missed them. There was no reaction. Nobody spoke to me about it. And when I did briefly mention it, there was no response. I also didn’t hold many of the conversations about it that I’d planned to have. It simply didn’t happen. There was a complete blockage. I was actually feeling depressed about it myself, and I was truly downhearted. I thought: ‘What on earth is going on? Nothing is happening. Nothing.’

Once I’d recognized this fundamental attachment, everything suddenly changed. I hadn’t expected it at all, but when I went into the surgery the following Monday, I saw that the first patient to come into my office—I’d stepped out of the room briefly and come back in—had picked up the flyer and asked me, ‘Is this something nice?’ ‘Yes, of course!’ I said. I explained what Shen Yun is, and she said, ‘Yes, that sounds interesting!’ She said she’d always watched the Chinese circus and found the Shaolin monks incredible. Then I told her that traditional Chinese dance also features those jumps and is very, very beautiful, and that there’s also a live orchestra, and that stories from ancient Chinese culture are told through the medium of dance.

I also mentioned that Shen Yun depicts the period in China before the arrival of communism and the Communist Party’s culture. She then said: ‘Yes, what the communists are doing is absolutely terrible. If only people knew what’s really going on there.’ In other words, she actually took the words right out of my mouth, and the conversation continued to explore the content and themes I usually talk about in this context.

This was her second visit to the practice, in January, and she could have said all of this back in December, but she didn’t. Only now. At the end, she said: ‘If that’s how it is, then this is something for me.’ She was very happy: ‘Can I take the flyer with me?’ I was surprised, and asked myself what had just happened.

The next incident: perhaps a day or two later, a new lab courier arrived to collect the daily blood samples. It’s always the same routine: the courier rings the doorbell and hands me letters with the lab results through the half-open door, whilst I give him the test tubes containing the blood samples. It’s usually a very brief encounter.

But he struck up a conversation and told me, in simple language—he doesn’t speak German very well—that what really matters is that people behave well, that they live virtuously, so to speak, and bear the responsibility for their actions. Surprised, I replied: ‘Yes, of course, without a doubt,’ took two steps back, picked up a Shen Yun flyer from the flyer stand and told him that, if he was interested, all these themes were beautifully portrayed on stage in this performance. He was very happy when he left.

The next day, he waited until I had a moment to speak and asked me, indirectly and in a roundabout way, whether I thought human procreation was a human process or an act of creation by the Creator. I replied: ‘Of course there is a Creator; everything has a divine origin. That’s also a theme in the performance I showed you.’ Then he was gone again. Unusual topics brought up in passing, I thought.

Two days later, a pharmaceutical sales representative rang the doorbell very early in the morning. On Friday mornings we clean the surgery and have to hurry before the patients arrive. I thought to myself: ‘Does this have to happen right now?’ But then I was able to have a brief conversation with her about the development of modern society and how the Shen Yun performance showcases true traditional values. She left the surgery with a flyer. That was the third conversation.

Shortly afterwards, I started work and my first patient sat down opposite me. It was perhaps her third visit and I’d known her for about a year. At the end of the session, she said to me, ‘You’ve got a lot of material here from that show, haven’t you?’—referring to the flyers and posters in the entrance area, the waiting room, and the consultation room. ‘Finally, someone’s noticed,’ I thought to myself. ‘Have you ever been to the show?’ she asked. Then I told her all about Shen Yun, and she was genuinely interested and enthusiastic.

When the working week was over, I thought to myself: ‘None of this was normal. For months I’ve been sitting on my hands, feeling as if I’m stuck, and suddenly people are striking up conversations with me; the atmosphere is just right, and I’ve got time to talk. People have just been waiting for this and are having conversations that you wouldn’t normally have in this sort of situation. These were moments that can’t normally happen—not in these unusual circumstances, not with this intensity, and not with this outcome.’

I was absolutely certain that a barrier had simply been opened in another dimension; a blockage had been removed and the old forces could no longer exploit my old gap to cause disruption. There was no other explanation. After all, attachments also consist of a material substance. The more comprehensively their effect hinders us, the more striking their elimination is. Master says in the same Jingwen, “Towards Consummation”: “Some people think that Dafa is in keeping with their own understanding of science; some people think that it agrees with their own code of conduct; some people think that it speaks to their own dissatisfaction with politics; some people think that Dafa can salvage humankind’s degenerate morals; some people think that Dafa can cure their illnesses; some people think that Dafa and Master are righteous, and so on and so forth.”

My category falls under the last point, although I wouldn’t call it ‘righteous’ in my own way of speaking. It seems too worldly to me. For me, Dafa is simply the purest, highest and finest—something that remains unchanging and requires no further correction. That is Dafa.

And my stubbornness persisted because I believed I could use it as a tool to help me leave this world and return to heaven, where I came from. And I had never felt that this was wrong. I had this ‘I-want-to-leave-the-world’ idea, through which I saw everything filtered as if through a pair of strange glasses: a narrow perspective that I alone had allowed to exist, instead of seeing the Fa in its full scope. I had this little filter that still acted as a form of censorship, asking: ‘Does this statement fit with my attachment?’

We must understand the Fa from the Fa. Only then are we free and open to its true content, the genuine teachings.

My attachment was always allowed to be present while I was studying the Fa, and to accompany my thoughts throughout the day. When I did the exercises, I thought it was a waste of time, because I didn’t want to take my body with me. That’s why I didn’t need my body to be transformed, and why the exercises weren’t necessary. But when I studied the Fa, I saw that Master’s teachings said otherwise, and so for years I had repeatedly shared with others about my negative attitude towards doing the exercises without realizing that my underlying attachment was the root cause.

Once I realized this, a different perception of my surroundings and my fellow human beings opened up immediately. At the same time, my Forbearance increased, my perspective broadened, and my understanding of the Fa became clearer. I understood the Fa on a different level while studying it. Everything affected me much more deeply and I was full of Compassion.

Now, after a few months, I can say that identifying my fundamental attachment has brought about a change almost as profound as the one I experienced when I first began practicing as a Falun Dafa disciple. It is not as sudden as it was then, but the physical changes in my body and the expansion of my perception of myself within the cosmos are similarly intense.

I can now understand why Master places such great emphasis on us striving to identify our fundamental attachments and then being able to let go of them. Otherwise, we will certainly fall far short of our potential. That would be a shame for us and, in particular, for the sentient beings who have placed all their hope in us. Now I’m paying more attention and doing better. What a difference!

Thank you, Master, for your presence in my life, your patience, and your compassionate guidance. Thank you to all my fellow practitioners for your attentive support.

 

(Submitted to the European Fa-Comference 2026)

* * *

Facebook Logo LinkedIn Logo Twitter Logo Email Logo Pinterest Logo

You are welcome to print and circulate all articles published on Clearharmony and their content, but please quote the source.