My Autistic Son Fostered My Aspiration for the Pure Land

I am Mo Xue, a Pure Land practitioner based in Hong Kong who practices with steadfast faith. Half a year ago, I was still a mother who had lost all enthusiasm for life, constantly grappling with the meaning of existence.

Whenever the 2002 Hong Kong SARS outbreak comes up, I am always reminded of that year when my son and I, masked and proceeding with extreme care, went to the hospital for his therapy sessions. When my son was two, he was diagnosed with mild autism. Overwhelmed with worry for his future, I could not hold back my tears as the specialist explained his condition to us. At that moment, the world around me fell silent, gray and blurred, while I screamed inwardly: "Why me?"

In a way, autistic children are like aliens stranded on Earth: they live in the same world as the rest of us, but struggle immensely to communicate with other people. As autism is a congenital developmental disorder, they experience varying degrees of difficulty with social communication, language, and everyday behavior. The general public's lack of understanding of people with special needs also places enormous pressure on the parents of these children. Many children with special needs have no visible differences from their neurotypical peers, and some are even very good-looking. But when they display uncontrollable behaviors in public, they are often mistaken as having been poorly raised by their parents, so strangers naturally blame the parents for their actions. At such times, parents have no choice but to silently endure the blame, with no way to explain the reasons for these behaviors to onlookers on the spot. I still remember one time, when my son ran wildly down the street and kept pressing elevator buttons. I could not stop him in time, and was scolded by a stranger standing nearby. At that moment, I was completely drained, both physically and emotionally, and even broke down crying in front of my own mother.

"My son, why did I even bring you into this world?" This was the question I asked myself most often during those years. People say "every person has their own unique worth", so what hopeful expectations could I possibly have for you? While other parents worried about their children's grades and academic progress, I only worried whether my son would be able to take care of himself on his own when he grew up, or be swindled out of his money.

Parents of autistic children carry the heavy burden of their child's future on one hand, and on the other, endure the pressure of their child being rejected by society. This pressure is something that ordinary parents can barely fathom, and impossible for anyone outside this experience to fully understand. But I knew deep down that no matter what happened, I had to be strong, to hold onto immense positivity, so that I could face all future challenges alongside my son. Though I was often exhausted, I was lucky to have my family's understanding and support, which helped me keep going.

In the years following my son's diagnosis, my husband and I traveled all over with him to major hospitals for a range of professional therapy sessions. As many autistic children experience sensory integration dysfunction, most of our therapy sessions focused on addressing this, including teaching him to use body language to express his daily needs. My son could not speak at all back then, so we taught him to pat his thigh to let adults know he needed to use the bathroom. Watching my son slowly learn to express his needs, I felt happy on one hand, but on the other, helpless that this was the only form of communication we could have. My emotions were a tangled mix of joy and sorrow. At the same time, I had to keep pushing myself not to get stuck in negative thoughts, because we still had a very long road ahead of us.

It was not until my son turned five that, one day in a shopping mall, he shouted "Mom" to me from far away — the first time he had ever spoken since the day he was born. In an instant, the whole world fell silent, and all I could hear was my son's voice echoing in my ears, like the most beautiful heavenly melody. At that moment, all the hardship and grievance turned into tears streaming down my face.

After my son started primary school, his atypical behaviors finally began to improve. He was able to communicate with others normally, and also developed a deep love for cooking. He enjoyed both eating and preparing food, and sometimes brought dishes he made to school to share with his teachers. Occasionally, he would say to me: "Mom, I'll cook for you too." The word "moved" can't even begin to describe how I felt. You can't imagine how much effort it took for him to say those words, and the weight of emotion behind that moment is something most ordinary parents can never truly understand.

Everything finally began to stabilize and move steadily toward our shared goals. My son turned nineteen in what felt like the blink of an eye. After graduating from his special education high school, he earned admission to his dream vocational training school to continue studying culinary arts. However, this peace was short-lived. One day, my son suddenly cried out in his sleep. I jolted awake, at first thinking he was having a nightmare. I rushed over immediately to try to wake him, only to find him twitching all over unconsciously, with a trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. I yelled: "Dad! Come quick, look at our son..." Even now, whenever I replay this scene in my mind, I can still feel the fear and panic I felt that day. They pierce my heart like poison needles, over and over again.

Two months later, my son had a second episode. The doctor diagnosed him with epilepsy, explaining that this condition usually first appears in childhood, and it is very rare for it to first manifest in adulthood. Common seizure triggers include flashing lights, fever, illness, stress, and more. Since then, we have had to add countless new restrictions to our daily lives, and I also developed panic disorder as a result of this traumatic incident.

Ever since my son's second seizure, almost every night after he fell asleep, I would stand dazedly by his bed, watching him sleep, as if I was torturing myself. The memories of my son's two seizures kept replaying over and over in my mind... After that, when I slept, it felt like my internal clock had been automatically reset: I would wake up every hour or so without meaning to, straining my ears to listen for any unusual sounds. Sometimes my heart would race for no reason, pounding heavily and rapidly. Sometimes I would wake up in the dead of night, filled with panic, not knowing what to do with myself. To make matters worse, during this period I also developed a severe toothache, and needed to undergo root canal treatment across four separate sessions.

During the first session, I only managed to last 30 minutes before a panic attack hit, and I got dizzy and vomited on the spot. I said helplessly to the dentist: "I really don't have the confidence to complete the remaining treatments." So I gave up the remaining three sessions, and ultimately had the tooth extracted instead.

When I lost all confidence in myself, and even became afraid of my own emotional state, I knew I had to take action to save myself. I faced reality head-on and took the initiative to see a psychiatrist. The doctor arranged psychological counseling, physical therapy, and gentle exercise sessions for me. I also went to the park to run, do calisthenics, and do aerobic exercise, to get my mind and body back on track. I finally felt like a balloon slowly inflating and rising again toward the bright blue sky. The doctor also advised me to pick up personal hobbies and recreational activities in my spare time outside of work. So when I went to the park to exercise, I often brought the handmade accessories I made along with me. After finishing my workout, I would take nice photos of them to enjoy, and sometimes I would buy handmade accessories I liked online.

A fortunate coincidence led me to a shop that sold muhuanzi (soapberry) products. This was the first time I had ever heard of muhuanzi, and the first I learned that The Sutra on the Soapberry Rosary, Spoken by the Buddha records this ancient type of prayer bead. Most importantly, it was through muhuanzi that I first learned of the Pure Land Dharma gate. I still remember the first time I bought muhuanzi products: the shop owner, a fellow Buddhist practitioner, gave me a complimentary copy of The Universal Vows Chapter of Samantabhadra Bodhisattva (one of the Five Pure Land Sutras) as an act of merit dedication. I had been eagerly awaiting its arrival during shipping, and started learning to chant it the same day I received it. It felt so natural and comfortable, like a fish in water. Thanks to this karmic connection, I began reciting sutras and chanting the Buddha's name, and gradually walked the path to the Pure Land. I am grateful for the benevolent arrangement of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, which allowed me to meet fellow practitioner Sun from this shop. I have benefited immensely, and my life finally has a clear direction.

Now, I still occasionally feel sudden fear when faced with uncertain events. For example, if my son falls ill or has a headache, my anxiety will follow suit. Unlike most people, if I try to ignore this unease, it will grow stronger and stronger, like a tiger poised to pounce and devour me, until panic symptoms eventually surface: my heart rate suddenly spikes for no reason, my chest tightens in painful waves, and a suffocating pressure settles between every breath, making it hard for me to even draw a full breath.

I am grateful for the practice of nianfo, or chanting the Buddha's name, which has gradually helped me cultivate right mindfulness. Now I see my panic as a sick tiger companion. I no longer reject or push it down, but instead soothe and guide it through. Because I firmly believe that the sacred name of Amitabha Buddha, which embodies all perfect virtues, can heal it. As soon as the panic surfaces, I immediately start chanting "Namo Amitabha Buddha" — one recitation, two recitations, three, even thousands upon thousands of recitations. The faster my heart pounds, the slower I chant, word by word, until the tiger falls asleep, until it vanishes completely. When my heart rate steadies, I slowly open my eyes. At that moment, my heart becomes incomparably pure, and I once again feel the great compassionate power of the sacred name of Amitabha Buddha. Sometimes I chant until tears stream down my face — these are tears of joy, grateful for the Buddha's great compassionate blessing! I have finally found my cure! The sacred name of Amitabha Buddha is my cure!

Every time I face a trial, I truly feel the Buddha's compassionate blessing. The infinite light of Amitabha Buddha can dispel all my unease, bringing me back to calm, filling me with warmth, and granting me peace and ease. Amitabha Buddha is my firmest support, giving me the courage to face all future challenges with composure.

That day, I believed without a doubt in the fellow practitioner from the shop I had never met, and in the Buddhist sutra I had just heard for the first time. Looking back now, I realize I had already developed the mind of renunciation long before that. At the beginning, I often asked myself: "My son, why did I even bring you into this world?" Today I have the answer — my son, I am so grateful that you came into my life, reminding me of the suffering, emptiness, and impermanence of the Saha world. You amplified the bitterness of my suffering, so that when the conditions were ripe one day and I encountered the Pure Land Dharma, I could develop unshakable faith in rebirth in the Pure Land, and gain a completely new life. How truly blessed I am!

Venerable Master Da'an once taught that the purpose of chanting the Buddha's name is to resolve the great matter of the cycle of birth and death that has persisted for countless eons, and to fully realize our inherently possessed Buddha-nature. Once we accomplish this great matter, all other worldly things — whether misfortune or success — are nothing but a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow. Whether life is good or bad, we are all dreaming in delusion; fundamentally, everything is empty and illusory. So we should be grateful for unpleasant experiences, for they are what help us develop the mind of renunciation.

Now I abide by the precepts and chant the Buddha's name daily. My practice routine is fixed, and I stick to it unwaveringly. The six-character holy name is always present in my heart, and my faith and inner strength grow stronger every day. "Continuous, unbroken chanting without interruption" is my personal motto. Even though the saying goes, "Raise a child for a hundred years, and you will worry for ninety-nine of them", and even though I have yet to learn how to communicate with my "alien" son, nothing can shake my firm conviction. I am like an airplane taxiing on a runway: with the help of countless good spiritual friends, I constantly adjust my course, and take off toward the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss.

With a heart full of gratitude, I write down this account of my Buddhist practice journey, hoping that the general public will gain more understanding and empathy for people with special needs. I also sincerely hope that through this article, I can offer some inspiration to all my friends in society who are bearing heavy pressures: if one day, you also have the karmic affinity to hear the Dharma and encounter the Pure Land Dharma gate, do not miss this sublime opportunity. "Rare it is to be born human, and now we have been born; rare it is to hear the Dharma, and now we have heard it; if we do not cross over to liberation in this very lifetime, in what lifetime shall we cross over?" We must cherish every moment, practice diligently, chant the Buddha's name with firm faith and aspiration, and reach the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss as soon as possible! Namo Amitabha Buddha!