Heaven-Ordained Fate, Awe of the Heavenly Way, Walking with Precepts

In the blink of an eye, I am not far from fifty. Among my primary, middle, high school, and university classmates, some have already passed away, and several have served prison sentences. I have accumulated a rich store of things I have heard, seen, and personally experienced; at this age my mind has not noticeably declined. We in this age group sit somewhere between Confucius's "no longer perplexed" and "knowing heaven's mandate." "No longer perplexed" means a clear head; "knowing heaven's mandate" means understanding that many things are beyond human control, and that "heavenly mandate" or "fate" is objectively real.

When we are young, we do not believe in fate. We were competitive, aggressive, and unstoppable, feeling that through effort we could change everything; that is why young people are described as full of vitality. Indeed, human effort can change many things, and the world is always changing, with young people playing the largest role in driving that change. But there is much that human effort cannot change—and that is "heavenly mandate."

During the Spring Festival at home, I ran into a primary-school classmate who had just been released from prison and talked with him for a few minutes. Years ago, working away from home, a fellow villager got into a dispute with someone and invited him and several other young men from our village to help settle it; he joined a brawl. The fight killed one of the opposing party. From then on, several of them were either arrested and imprisoned or became fugitives; their lives were rewritten.

My classmate had not yet finished his sentence, but in prison a huge liver tumor was found. He underwent surgery and was released on medical parole. His home today can only be described as bare walls. His father died of lymphoma two years ago; his wife has remarried; his mother is struggling at home raising his son and daughter. His illness has worsened a family already in dire straits. He should pay for his actions, but his family's plight is truly pitiable.

Back then he never imagined his so-called loyalty would cause another man's death; had he known the outcome, he never would have fought for that fellow villager. I know he had no intent to kill. As a childhood friend, seeing how hard up his mother and children are, I gave them some money when I visited for New Year. The ancients said punishment should not extend to a man's wife and children. He broke the law and should face justice, but his family deserves sympathy. Of course, the family of the man they beat to death deserves even more sympathy and social support.

This incident completely changed his life. Such events look accidental, but behind them lie necessary laws. We were classmates in primary school; I know he was impulsive, short-tempered, combative, not rational, easily incited, and fiercely loyal. This character made a fall inevitable. After this life catastrophe and such a heavy price, his temperament has calmed considerably. During my few days in the village, I saw him mostly sitting quietly alone at the doorway—a changed man.

Any fatal flaw in character can cause severe consequences; this is fate. Until one reaches forty or fifty, one does not know that human destiny has its fixed allotment. By forty or fifty, through our own experience and the stories of those around us, we come to understand this. Those close to us who die young or suffer major setbacks almost always have various deep-rooted problems that existed when they were very young.

I now often reflect on whether my own character has fatal weaknesses, whether my behavior has caused major harm to society or others, and whether my habits are seriously damaging to my body. I am diligent and cautious from dawn to dusk, daily examining myself three times, and dare not live entirely on impulse. Though I value freedom, I revere the rules of the heavenly way. A reasonably sound person, by middle age, develops many inner "precepts," frequently examining themselves and restraining their conduct.

When young, everyone inevitably has many undisciplined acts, some of them absurd or even sinful. As long as they are not excessive and the baseline of humanity is held, the price need not be crushing, though small falls are unavoidable. Only after enough falls does true wisdom arise, and one knows what to do and what not to do.

Human nature is not fully reliable—not only others, but ourselves. Searching our hearts, we may all be touched by greed, anger, ignorance, pride, and doubt. If we indulge our inner cruelty and fail to see the importance of precepts, sooner or later we pay a price. Whether to practice all good deeds is another question (after all, doing good also requires ability; preaching it without ability smacks of self-deception). But refraining from evil, treating others well, and treating the world well is plainly right. Any pain we inflict on others may, at some point, rebound on us. This law of cause and effect is not 100% reliable, but it is broadly true.