Even nature joins this ritual of interbeing. The earth that holds our ancestors' bones, the wind that carries our prayers, the food offered to birds or ants afterward---all remind me that this moment belongs to more than just my family. It belongs to life itself.
So Cheng Beng is more than a memorial---it's a lived experience of interbeing. It teaches me, again and again, that who I am cannot be separated from who came before, and that love, respect, and remembrance are the bridges that keep us whole.
Devotion and Loving Kindness in Cheng Beng
Cheng Beng has changed for me over the years. What used to be a family gathering has become a solitary ritual. I now make the journey alone, carrying offerings in silence, tending to the graves without the voices or presence of others. But strangely, the absence has deepened the presence. Without distraction, I feel more than ever the quiet power of devotion.
Preparing the offerings by myself---choosing the fruits, folding the paper, arranging the incense---has become an act of mindfulness. There's no one watching. I do it not out of obligation, but because it matter. These simple gestures carry my love, my memory, and my longing. They are a way of saying, You are still here with me.
In the stillness, I've come to understand loving-kindness not as something we only give to others, but as something we nurture within. When I kneel alone and bow before the resting place of my ancestors, I am both offering and receiving. I give thanks, I send peace, and I also allow myself to be held by the connection that time cannot erase.
Cheng Beng, even in solitude, is a space of relationship. I may be the only one left, but I do not feel alone. I feel accompanied by memory, by gratitude, by the quiet voices of those who once stood beside me. The tradition lives on---not through numbers or ceremony, but through presence. Through choosing to remember. Through choosing to love.
And maybe that, more than anything, is the essence of devotion: not in what we do, but in how we continue---faithfully, gently---even when no one else is there.
Integrating Cheng Beng's Essence into Daily Life
But perhaps the true gift of Cheng Beng is not in what we do on that one day, but how it invites us to live every other day. If we truly believe in interbeing, then every interaction matters. Every word I speak carries the seeds of my upbringing. Every action I take ripples into the lives of others, known and unknown. Honoring my ancestors means living mindfully---with integrity, compassion, and awareness that I represent more than just myself.
I've begun to see Cheng Beng not just as a moment to look back, but as a reminder to look around and look within; to care deeply for the living while they're still here. To listen to the stories of the elders. To preserve family recipes, uphold values of humility and gratitude, and to pass on not just tradition, but presence.
