Enjoying a Life of Freedom in Emptiness and Stillness

I like climbing mountains. Every time I reach the summit and gaze into the distance, the buildings far away look like ants, and people are like specks of dust, invisible at all; the human world seems as if it is in some distant other place. At such times, the only existences I can see and feel are the stones of the mountain, the wind in the forest, and the white clouds in the sky. They move at ease, utterly unaffected by the human world.

Whenever this happens, I can experience a kind of serenity in a state of void and stillness. What is civilization? What is humanity? What is a nation? When one thinks about these questions here, one feels that these concepts are all "cocoons" that humans have made to bind themselves. Humans have manufactured these narrow concepts, fought bitterly over them, and suffered greatly because of these disputes, which is hardly worth it.

Likewise, glory and baseness, poetry and dreams, power and wealth, titles and status, are all ridiculous things. Yet in the vast sea of humanity, are these not exactly what we chase? Although I am not a Buddhist, I deeply accept the Buddha's principles of "all five aggregates are empty" and "all phenomena arise from conditions and are void in nature."

The Buddha said: "The lands are perilous and fragile; the five skandhas are without self; arising and ceasing, transforming and changing, they are deceptive and without a master. The mind is the source of evil; the body is the den of sin." Human suffering all arises from excessive desire. Let go of desire, take heaven and earth as one's home, the white clouds as friends, and the green mountains as companions—what suffering is there? Only those with insatiable minds, who seek all their lives and fall deep into the sea of suffering, with the five skandhas blazing and the fire of desire consuming them without their knowing, until the moment of death when they regret having wasted their whole lives on futile struggles—that is truly lamentable.

I research TCM anti-cancer treatment and have come into contact with many cancer patients. A small number of patients develop cancer because of inherited genetic problems, but the majority need not have contracted this terminal illness. Yet many people spend their lives either addicted to drink, or lustful, or fond of rich, greasy food, or obsessed with quick success, or overwhelmed by the seven emotions, and finally develop an incurable disease. Most, even after giving everything, can only briefly prolong a limited life; it really is not worth it.

This year's pandemic has slowed my pace of life, allowing me plenty of time to relax among the mountains and waters. There is a saying in "Caigentan" (Vegetable Roots Discourse): "Only when dwelling in a low place does one know the danger of climbing high; only when staying in the dark does one know the excess of standing in the light; only when maintaining stillness does one know the fatigue of constant movement; only when cultivating silence does one know the restlessness of much talk." Since I have eased off from my busy work, I too have realized that my past life was rushed and not good.

After living at a fast pace for so many years, we have grown used to saying clichés like "busy is good, busy is fulfilling," but we have forgotten that we ourselves are also objects deserving of kind treatment. It seems that from the moment we entered school, we have step by step accepted this idea: that a person's life needs a pattern, that it is meaningless without some pursuit, and we rarely stop to ask whether this idea is correct.

In my youth, if someone took up those ethereal Buddhist ideas, there was always someone nearby saying that this person must have been hit by something. At that time, everyone regarded nihilism as a flood beast, fearing that someone in their own family would fall into nihilism. But it seems that in recent years more and more people have become Buddhist-minded, and many can accept the fact that life is a void.

I once underwent a period of not-too-strict religious training; from the age of six or seven I chanted Buddhist scriptures, reading and memorizing a great many Buddhist classics on my own, and I deeply identify with some Buddhist ideas. But I am a person who likes to let my mind roam freely and is willing to read widely across all kinds of knowledge, so it is hard for me to become a Buddhist believer. As the Buddha said: "Those who hear much and love the Way will have difficulty attaining it; those who preserve their resolve and uphold the Way have the great Way." In my life I am unlikely to "preserve my resolve and uphold the Way"; I am only willing to hear and learn broadly, so it is better not to strap myself down with faith.

Even so, many Buddhist ideas have had a profound influence on me. The morning bells and evening drums of the temples and the sounds of Buddhist chanting ring in my ears from time to time, and my thoughts often drift away from the hot human world, soaring freely in a void and silent realm, my heart cool and clear, everything unobstructed.

As for this physical body, it still needs food, drink, excretion, and sleep; it needs the smoke and fire of the human world and the company of loved ones. This spiritual world cannot forever leave the mortal realm; it is a common occurrence for it to return from void and stillness to the dusty world. Family affection and friendship remain; the skills I have mastered can still save some people's lives, and doing this work brings me joy. So I am not about, nor do I need, to remain in a state of "void and stillness" at every moment.

What I admire is Zhuangzi's attitude toward life, dwelling between "the useful" and "the useless," without clinging to either state. When "the useful" is harmful to body and mind, be "useless" for a while; when "the useless" becomes too boring, be "useful" for a while.

This is the spirit of the "Middle Way." The three traditional Chinese traditions—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism—all emphasize the spirit of the "Middle Way," or the Doctrine of the Mean. Confucianism advocates "broad and great yet refined and detailed, supremely sage yet walking the path of the mean." Buddhism also advocates the spirit of the Middle Way; the Buddha himself opposed both ascetic practices (which, it should be noted, differs from the common stereotype, but is a historical fact) and a life of excessive desire.

If one wants to merely preserve one's life in this human world, this is probably the only choice one can make.