Misunderstood Faith: Why I Firmly Speak Out for Lifechanyuan
Jiejing Celestial
July 31, 2025
(Edited by ChatGPT)
A Sudden Storm—Tearing Apart the Quiet Night
Since July 2, 2025, a sudden storm has struck. With the assistance of the Anyang Public Security Bureau, the Linzhou police in Henan launched raids across various locations, arresting members of Lifechanyuan. Within just a few days, more than eighty “Chanyuan Celestials” have been detained. The peaceful life was torn apart, human rights wounds reopened, and the blood has yet to dry. The place that once gave me spiritual rebirth and helped me reclaim the meaning of life is now labeled an “illegal organization,” and even cast under the shadow of being a “cult.” This not only threatens hundreds of members living peacefully but may also drag the overseas Second Home into the storm.
As an ordinary woman who lived in the China branch for three years and now works at the Thailand branch, I sincerely speak out with my truest experience: Lifechanyuan is not a cult. It is the dwelling place of my heart, the turning point where I walked out of confusion and illness toward light, and the place that made me believe again in kindness, beauty, and hope.
Cries Amid the Storm—Scars of Arrests, Coerced Confessions, and Fabricated Charges
That day, the iron gates of Linzhou Public Security Bureau pushed open our world. Phones were confiscated, communications cut off, and no legal arrest procedures were followed. Many members were forced to write “guarantee letters,” “confession letters,” and “self-criticism letters.” Some were even compelled to read scripted texts on camera, turning their genuine voices into evidence of guilt. Those who refused to cooperate were illegally detained, and a few members suffered violations of privacy during interrogations. Meanwhile, Lifechanyuan’s bank accounts were frozen, and some members were deprived of their freedom to travel abroad.
Whether in the cold winter of Canada or under the scorching sun of Thailand, our longing shadows us everywhere. Watching over our loved ones in the heart of the storm is like guarding trees uprooted by a violent storm—we don’t know if tomorrow will bring news of their safety.
We are simply a group of people quietly cultivating our lives, with no political demands, causing no social disturbance, only wishing to live simply, kindly, and support one another.
If such a life is defined as “illegal,” then how many ways do we have left to find a place to belong and live sincerely?
My Three Years at the Second Home of Lifechanyuan in China — A Time of Peace and Innocence
From 2011 to 2014, I experienced one of the purest chapters of my life—like a clear spring flowing through my soul. During those three years, I lived at the Second Home of Lifechanyuan’s China branch. It was my first real encounter with the beauty of communal life—a way of living without competition or conflict, where people cared for one another. It was warm, free, and felt both like a dream and a reality.
I lived in several branches: the first branch in Anning, Yunnan; the third branch in Chuxiong; the fourth branch in Lincang; later relocating to the Nanhua Farm in Jiangsu, and then to Qinggema and Ketaier Farms in Xinjiang. Each day consisted of about two hours of field work, teaching children English, contributing to the development of our English website, and building a simple yet loving life with others. This was the daily rhythm I cherished deeply.
In this equal and sincere community, there was no oppression of power, no cold calculations—only the original warmth and purity of human nature, and laughter that blossomed from mutual trust. It was a long-lost pure land—a gentle place untouched by materialism, where the soul could finally rest.
But the storm of fate eventually arrived. In 2013, the Yunnan branches were forcibly disbanded. We were forced to move to the Nanhua Farm in Jiangsu, which was soon demolished as well, pushing us onto another uncertain journey—this time to Xinjiang. In 2014, the home we had built in Xinjiang was also set to be razed. That moment broke me. My emotions collapsed, and my spirit hit rock bottom.
I wrote many angry and chaotic words during that time. Carrying pain and confusion, I returned to my hometown at the end of the year. By 2015, the Xinjiang Second Home had completely disappeared. For the first time, I deeply realized: even living peacefully, farming simply, and helping one another can, in some eyes, be seen as “dangerous.”
It was a silent sorrow—realizing that simply choosing a different way of life, one free of greed and conflict, could still touch invisible yet merciless “red lines.”
The Weight of Reality: Invisible Shackles of Education, Marriage, and the Workplace
Returning to secular life, I tried to integrate into what is often called a “normal” life. Between 2015 and 2018, I worked in various roles—an e-commerce customer service agent, a computer assistant in a bookstore, and a front desk clerk at a driving school. On the surface, everything seemed calm, but inside, I was gradually drying up. The repetitive days felt like a silent elegy, slowly eroding the colors of my soul. My spirit dulled amidst the machinery of routine, and I became emotionally numb.
In 2018, I began working as an English instructor at tutoring centers and private training institutions, witnessing generation after generation of children lose their light and curiosity in the fog of exam-oriented education. I, too, became just another nameless cog in this cold, rigid system.
Societal expectations weigh like a mountain. Past the age of thirty, marriage became an unavoidable question on life’s test. To maintain my job and appear “normal,” I entered a marriage I never truly desired. But instead of becoming a source of support, that relationship felt like a harsh winter—freezing my body and spirit. Sleeplessness and anxiety became constant companions. My health began to collapse, and my weight soared to 95kg.
Then came a diagnosis of plasma cell mastitis. I underwent eleven minimally invasive surgeries. The doctor’s recommendation felt like a cold verdict: to remove both breasts. And he—seeing the scars on my body—offered only indifference and disgust. His words pierced me deeply: “Your mental illness won’t get better, and your breasts won’t recover either.”
By the Spring Festival of 2022, our story ended. I finally understood: traditional marriage and family, rather than being a harbor of love, had become a prison draining my soul—heavy and cold.
I tried to stand again and turn toward a new direction. In 2022, I entered the foreign trade industry. My boss once assigned me to serve as a translator for two Austrian engineers during a brief visit to Huaigang. In just eleven days, the last of my illusions about the system were shattered—chaotic management, inefficient workflows, misunderstandings bred by language barriers, and the cold exploitation of grassroots workers. Heaven and hell, it seemed, coexisted under the same blue sky.
In the end, I had to admit: this system of reality was not made for me.
Fate Struck Like a Boulder, and My Soul Fell with It
In 2019, the passing of my father fell like autumn leaves—quiet and irreversible. My spirit collapsed once again, haunted by an unfulfilled wish: to give him a better life, a wish I ultimately could not realize. By the end of 2021, my mother was bedridden with multiple myeloma, her life hanging by a thread. Though I had 200,000 yuan in savings, it was no match for the endless medical procedures and caretaking demands. Repeated hospital admissions and discharges, constant requests for leave from work—I was physically and emotionally drained, like a candle flickering in the wind.
Caretakers came and went, making it nearly impossible to find stable, long-term support. The 4,000-yuan monthly cost for in-home care far exceeded my modest income. The weight of financial strain pressed down like a mountain—each breath filled with exhaustion and dread.
In early 2022, the departure of my husband pushed me into the abyss of solitude. On the verge of physical and emotional collapse, I was haunted by the fear of losing both breasts. Severe insomnia and deep psychological torment clung to me day and night. It felt as if the entire world had forgotten I existed.
On March 16, 2023, my mother passed away, taking with her the last light in my life. Loneliness and helplessness surged in like a tide, overwhelming every ounce of my strength. In that moment, the meaning of life blurred, and I found myself wandering in endless darkness.
The Thailand Branch of Lifechanyuan’s Second Home: A Rebirth of My Soul, a New Chapter of My Life
At the darkest point of my life, when I was exhausted in both body and spirit, the Guide of Lifechanyuan, Xuefeng, responded to my plea in time and arranged for me to come live at the Thailand branch of the Second Home.
Here, the air is filled with the fragrance of mango orchards. Surrounded by the calm rhythm of mowing, gardening, and the gentle breath of nature, my heart gradually found peace. In this environment, I slowly emerged from the shadows of insomnia and depression. My physical and mental health began to recover, and my weight naturally dropped from 95kg to 60kg. Life began to shine with renewed light.
My days are simple and authentic. I often engage in tasks like mowing grass, planting vegetables and flowers, sweeping roads, cleaning houses, and collecting garbage. I also help share Lifechanyuan Values in English, spreading this lifestyle of peace and love. There are no chains here—only a balance of freedom and responsibility. Each time I start the mower or sweep fallen leaves, I feel as though I’m in silent dialogue with heaven and earth.
There is no supervision, yet I carry out each task with devotion—because I hold reverence and responsibility in my heart. The core value of Lifechanyuan—“Revere the Greatest Creator, revere LIFE, revere nature, and walk the way of the Greatest Creator”—have taken root in me like a spring breeze. Even when I unintentionally harm a blade of grass or a flower, I quietly apologize and offer repentance to the Greatest Creator. This is not superstition, but my truest realization: when selfishness, jealousy, or chaos rise within me, my body feels heavy and my soul loses its way; but when I strive to correct myself, and learn the language and behavior of truth, kindness, beauty, and love, I begin to heal—my spirit regains peace.
Gradually, I’ve come to understand that oppression does not only exist outside. True freedom comes when I learn to live in harmony with heaven, earth, and all beings. Only then can joy return, and the light of life be rediscovered.
Freedom in Emotional Love and Sexual Love : Not Indulgence, but Deep Respect
The world often misunderstands our value of “freedom in emotional love and sexual love,” hastily equating it with promiscuity. But as a woman who has lived at the Thailand branch for two years, I speak from personal experience: our freedom is not chaotic indulgence—it is grounded in complete consent, mutual respect, and a high level of civility and responsibility. Here, emotional connection flows like a clear mountain spring. Relationships are born from spiritual resonance, not driven by mere physical desire.
We live on temple land, in full view of local villagers. If there were even a hint of impropriety, how could the local abbot and villagers have welcomed and accepted us for over six years?
Precisely because we live with authenticity and peace, cultivate the land in an ecological and harmonious way, and maintain a clean, orderly environment that reflects our inner discipline, we have earned not suspicion but respect—not rejection but trust.
Lifechanyuan: A Legally Recognized, Gentle Exploration of a More Authentic Life
Lifechanyuan is neither an “illegal organization” nor a “cult.” It is a legally registered, transparent, nonprofit living community that exists openly on the international stage. We are not escaping reality; we are sincerely exploring a more peaceful, genuine, and compassionate way of life.
Rooted in Canada—Peaceful and Steady
On November 20, 2017, Lifechanyuan was officially registered in Canada as a nonprofit organization: Lifechanyuan International Family Society. It now operates two branches in Canada, legally existing in the form of a Bed & Breakfast and a resort. We are self-sustaining, pay taxes in accordance with the law, and openly welcome guests from around the world. Our operations are transparent and orderly. There is no religious indoctrination here, no scams—only trust and praise from guests of many nations. Amid the snowy lands of the north, we are lighting the fire of an alternative lifestyle with sincerity and goodwill.
Blossoming Gently in Thailand—Coexisting with the Local Village
Since 2019, Lifechanyuan has steadily established its presence in Thailand. Guided by principles of ecological coexistence and peaceful labor, we live quietly on temple grounds, our feet on the earth and hearts aligned with nature. We coexist harmoniously with local villagers and have gained the trust and affection of both the local temple abbot and community residents. We do not seek attention, but because of our authenticity and cleanliness, we are regarded as a peaceful and respectable spiritual community.
All of this—the legal recognition in Canada and the deep understanding from Thai communities—stands as the most gentle yet powerful refutation of the false accusations of being a “cult.”
I believe Lifechanyuan is not an escape, but a return—a return to the intimacy between human and nature, the warmth between people, and the harmony between heart and soul. It is a clear and sincere attempt in today’s world—a living exploration and proof of a kind and meaningful way of life.
May This Pure Land Be Gently Treated by the World
As a Chinese woman once nearly crushed by the shackles of marriage, the pressure of work, and the torment of illness, I walked alone through the lowest valleys of life, trapped in darkness and loneliness without end.
Today, I can work freely under the sun, sleep peacefully at night, and smile once again with genuine joy in my eyes. This is not a miracle—it is the gentle support and profound transformation that Lifechanyuan and the Second Home have given me.
This is not divine intervention, but the echo of a heart turning toward goodness—a small community walking the path of truth, kindness, and beauty, quietly protecting a patch of pure land.
I ask for nothing more than this: that such a simple, peaceful, and loving way of life—even if not yet fully understood—can at least be gently allowed to exist. For it was this lifestyle that, in my most fragile and broken moments, silently reached out and lifted me from the abyss.
Please read more article from: Chanyuan Celestials' Writings - NewOasisForLife - newoasisforlife.org
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Gratitude to YiBao for Publishing My Words for Lifechanyuan
Jiejing Celestial
August 5, 2025
On July 2, 2025, the Chinese government launched a sudden crackdown and persecution against Lifechanyuan, an event that shocked and deeply saddened me. In the midst of this unexpected storm, by the arrangement of the Tao, I was fortunate to get in touch with YiBao, and on July 31, at the invitation of the editorial team, I wrote the article “Misunderstood Faith: Why I Firmly Speak Out for Lifechanyuan”, which was officially published on August 1, 2025.
Here, I sincerely thank YiBao for providing a platform for my voice, thank theTao for its guidance, and express my heartfelt gratitude for the grace and love of the Greatest Creator.
Although the world around us still seems to be dominated by dark forces, it is precisely because of media like YiBao, and those who resonate with and support Lifechanyuan and the Second Home, that I have deeply felt this truth: our light has not been buried; our voices have not gone unheard.
May I continue to strive forward, constantly cultivating myself. May the light of Lifechanyuan and the Second Home be seen, understood, and echoed by more platforms and people. May Lifechanyuan Era come soon, and may 256 branches of the Second Home of Lifechanyuan blossom across the Earth soon.
