​​​An Eastern Mother of Light's Invitation to Contribute.
 

Many lights, many expressions of love. Each carries its own unique radiance and serves others in its own offering. The best way I can describe this is that every light has its own sphere of service. Just as different regions of the world develop their own cultures and ways of approaching, Eastern and Western paths express light differently. Each follows its own intelligence as it grows and evolves.

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As my experiences continued, I came to see that many forms of spiritual service already exist throughout the world. Different traditions have developed different ways of helping people through life's challenges and transitions.

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Within the Eastern tradition, I encountered what I came to know as an ancient Mother of Light. She as a highly developed before earth the spiritual presence devoted to caring for their students.

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The Purpose of a Temple

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One unique aspect of Eastern culture is the tradition of building, Temples as places where spirits may offer their service to humanity.

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I see a temple as much more than a physical building. It is like a spiritual "tele-station" established in our physical world—a place of connection between this world and the world beyond. Through it, a spirit can extend its presence and continue its work.

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A temple serves as a receiver, a place where prayers may be heard. It is a meeting point where people seek comfort, guidance, and, when possible, help from compassionate spirits dedicated to serving others. Later, I also discovered that churches also serves a similar purpose. Although their traditions and practices may differ, they, too, a places of spiritual connection, prayer, guidance, and service. I will explore this experience in greater detail with a future book.

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Not every temple is the same. Each differs according to the source of its spiritual connection and the light with which it is associated. Just as humanity continues to grow, the spiritual world also continues to develop in its relationship with the earthly world.

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The true power of a temple does not lie in its walls, its architecture, its statues, or its symbolic images. Its true influence is upon human consciousness, shaping our acceptance, helping our understanding, and a ways of perceiving life.

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Rather, its power lies in the Ancestral Light—the enduring light of enlightened spirits who dedicate themselves to serving and maintaining a bridge between the spiritual and physical worlds. Through their compassion, foreseeing, and strength of will, these enlightened spirits continue their work of  protecting and directing their descendants, as well as all who sincerely seek their guidance.

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The Innocence Before Awakening

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In 1987, while I was living in New York, I had the same vivid dream on two consecutive nights. In the dream, I was carrying my mother on my back, running as fast as I could to save her. It felt as though something was chasing us. I refused to stop because she was the person who had loved and cared for me the most.

Soon afterward, I returned to Taiwan to discover that my mother had been in intensive care for 6 days and had been declared brain dead. Only then did I understand why those dreams had come to me.

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As her eldest child, I faced the most difficult decision of my life. According to the eastern tradition, she was brought home rather than remaining in the hospital, allowing her to leave this world in the comfort of her own home and with respect for her spirit. We continued pumping oxygen by hand to keep her body warm, but I knew the moment would come when I would have to decide when to stop.

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I was a young woman with little life experience and no real understanding of death. With the knowledge I had at the time, I accepted that it was time to let her go. I made that painful decision on her behalf and quietly promised myself that I would carry forward the responsibilities she could no longer fulfill.

Looking back, I realize how innocent my understanding was. I believed that by releasing her from her physical body, I was helping her soul become free from illness, suffering, and the burdens of this earthly world. In my heart, I hoped she had finally found the peace that had eluded her during her final days.

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A support is needed  

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For a time, I placed my own life on hold to care for the responsibilities she had left behind. Gradually, however, I discovered that my own soul had become burdened. I could no longer see hope as I once had. The weight of life slowly drew me away from my dreams, leaving me emotionally exhausted and struggling to breathe beneath the heaviness I carried.

One quiet afternoon, I decided to walk through the busy streets simply to quiet my mind. Without any destination, I followed my feelings rather than my thoughts. As I continued walking, I suddenly noticed that the atmosphere around me had changed. Although I was still surrounded by buildings, I found myself entering an unusually peaceful plaza in the middle of the city. Its silence immediately caught my attention.

 

I continued walking until I reached a large temple. At first, I was not interested in entering. Instead, I found myself admiring the architecture and sculptures. Then I noticed a small sign on the wall. It read:

"Please give us some time. We can help you."

I paused and quietly wondered how anyone could speak with such kindness to a complete stranger. After my mother's passing, my world had been filled with arguments, conflicting opinions, and people protecting their own interests. It had become difficult to believe that someone would simply offer help without expecting anything in return.

Those simple words encouraged me to walk through the temple's tall entrance.

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The Beginning of a Friendship

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At that time, religion and spiritual traditions had never been important to me. My life had been devoted to studying, passing examinations, and learning how to survive within a demanding society. Curiosity about temples or religious practices had never crossed my mind.

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When I entered, the temple was almost empty. It felt as though the place existed only for those who had been quietly led there. Even today, nearly forty years later, it remains remarkably peaceful and rarely crowded. Yet those who do visit often find themselves lingering a little longer, quietly sitting in its stillness and allowing themselves to experience the peace it offers.

There was only one caretaker, who gently showed me how to offer a prayer. During that prayer, I quietly expressed the worries and burdens that had weighed upon my heart.

 

The written message I later received described me as "a dragon stranded in shallow water." Since I was born in the Year of the Dragon, those words immediately caught my attention. Even more remarkable, the guidance that followed identified both the timing and the person who would later help resolve the difficult situation I had been facing.

The accuracy of that guidance gave me genuine hope. The heaviness I had been carrying began to lift, and I felt myself returning once again to the dreams I had nearly abandoned. It became a turning point in my life, helping me move from sacrifice and grief toward renewed purpose.

 

From that day forward, I felt I had someone I could quietly speak with. I shared thoughts I could tell no one else, knowing there would be no judgment—only kindness and compassion. Out of sincere gratitude, I returned to the temple several times, not to ask for anything more, but simply to give thanks.

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After returning to the United States, I visited Taiwan on two more occasions. Each time, visiting the temple became one of the most meaningful parts of my journey. It felt less like visiting a place and more like returning to see a cherished member of my extended family.

Only years later did I come to realize that, in my understanding, this friendship had already been accepted long before I became aware of it.

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A Friendship Continues

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Life was good to me. I gradually moved forward, pursuing my goals, continuing my education, and embracing the joy of becoming a mother. As the years passed and new experiences filled my life, those earlier memories quietly settled into the background of my heart.

 

In 2008, I unexpectedly reconnected with a friend I had met years earlier through a parenting education program. After our children had grown up, we had lost touch, but when we met again, she shared some of her life experiences and strongly encouraged me—almost persistently—to visit a psychic named Ginny Love in Whittier. Although I had little interest at first, I eventually agreed, mostly to make my friend happy. I later learned that Ginny was very protective of her abilities and accepted only those she felt called to see.

I arrived with only one question in my heart: How was my mother? I wanted to know whether she had found peace after leaving this world and whether she was living a brighter life beyond it.

I had no expectation of what would happen next.

 

She patiently waited her turn. She was the third presence to speak.
Although I had no way of recognizing her myself, Ginny suddenly spoke in a different tone of voice and said:

"I am the one wearing the orange robe with the pearl-crowned headdress."

She continued speaking, but I can no longer remember all that she said. There was simply too much to absorb. Before I had time to understand one experience, another followed. So much information and emotion arrived within such a short time that I could not fully take it all in.

Instead, I experienced what felt like many old friends of my soul waiting to meet me. One after another, they seemed eager to introduce themselves to the new awareness that was gradually awakening within me.

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Looking back, I came to feel that each of them wished to take that opportunity to remind me they had always been with me—quietly accompanying me and preparing to work alongside me. Yet, to my present life and newly awakened consciousness, they were all complete strangers.​​​