I Have No Religion, Only Values

When I was sixteen, my Chinese language teacher Mr. Li Lixin told me that an ideal standard for reading was to be "well-versed in both ancient and modern, and fluent in both Chinese and Western learning." I was deeply influenced by him, and this standard became the lifelong attitude toward reading and scholarship that I have carried ever since. On top of these eight characters, I also achieved "balanced study of both arts and sciences." As a student with a science and engineering background, I received training in the natural sciences while also diligently studying literature, history, and philosophy, and even receiving religious training. During my student years, my grades in both the sciences and the humanities were excellent; I was not biased toward any subject, and could score full or near-full marks in almost every one.

Mr. Li believed I should receive comprehensive thinking training. He was a very learned teacher with a vast home library. During middle school, he was my guide in reading. Almost every week he would bring some good books from his collection, quietly place them on my desk for me to read in my spare time; when I finished, I would return them and he would give me a new batch. These books covered a very wide range—Chinese Confucian, Buddhist, Taoist, and Legalist schools of thought, Western philosophy, and some cutting-edge works on humanistic thought. It looked chaotic, but it laid a broad foundation in the humanities and social sciences for me.

Meeting him was meeting an enlightened teacher. In my student days, influenced by exam-oriented education, science students rarely read literature, history, or philosophy, while arts students were not adept at natural sciences. So in my era, most science students ended up nearly blank in the humanities, and arts students were correspondingly weak in the natural sciences.

I, however, was very fortunate. While studying the natural sciences, I also built a good foundation in the humanities and social sciences and saw a broad world. Of course, I also paid a far higher price in hard work than most people; during my student years, I studied and read for more than twelve hours a day. After my student years ended, I continued the daily life of constant reading and writing. I will probably never put down the hobbies of reading, learning, and writing for the rest of my life.

When I was a freshman in college, my faculty advisor Mr. Cai asked me: "You have been exposed to so many schools of thought—won't your mind become confused? Which doctrine do you ultimately follow?" I was young then, and I don't remember how I answered. Knowing myself, the arrogant me at the time must have confidently believed that I would not become confused.

In reality, after accumulating some worldly experience, I did indeed become lost and at a loss for a long time. Should I believe in Buddhism? Or in science? Was it better to be a Taoist follower? Or a Confucian? I went through periods of oscillation and struggle.

At one stage of life, I deeply identified with Confucianism's engagement with the world; at another, I was strongly drawn to Buddhism's transcendence of the Four Elements; for a period I was a staunch Taoist, yearning for a return to nature; sometimes my blood boiled and I thought of reforming Chinese traditional culture, synthesizing Western thought, and launching an intellectual liberation movement in China. Generally speaking, these intellectual shifts were closely tied to my personal life experiences.

Not until approaching forty did I gradually enter another state: continuing to read widely, but no longer being influenced by any single doctrine I had studied. Because in practice I had come to recognize both the strengths and the respective flaws of every school of thought. Any doctrine is merely a spiritual tool a person uses to engage with the world and guide their thinking. Without studying these doctrines, when confronted with major life questions one has no spiritual tools to use. But clinging to any single school easily leads to dogmatism and extremism.

Life is not static, and the historical context is not static either. The complex problems people encounter in daily life within a given era cannot be solved by any single school of thought. Insisting on using one school's thought to solve all problems will inevitably produce contradictions. Rather than forcing oneself to adhere to one doctrine, it is better to integrate and apply flexibly.

So now I no longer elevate any single thought's influence on me to the level of faith. Once one has faith in a certain ideology, one easily becomes bound by it, its captive, lacking flexibility in how one conducts oneself. I believe that in a lifetime, the only thing worth holding onto is a set of simple principles for conduct: not doing evil, not being greedy, treating others with kindness, being honest and trustworthy, being self-reliant and strong, being generous and forgiving toward others, and being willing to correct mistakes when one knows them. These simple principles of conduct are nearly identical in the ethical systems of almost every school of thought. If I must have some kind of faith, I would take these simple values as my faith.

Traditional Chinese Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, as well as Western philosophy, psychology, and social sciences, and both Chinese and Western medicine—I appreciate them all, but I am superstitious about none. When faced with whatever life problem arises, I use whatever intellectual tool can address it. Considering personal inclination and the reality that life is finite while knowledge is infinite, I have gradually moved from breadth to essentials, returning to the Way of medicine, with TCM as the primary approach and Western medicine as auxiliary. In my spare time from studying and practicing medicine, I write articles to indulge my hobby of writing.

We now live in an age where spiritual sustenance is both scarce and overflowing. Because material desire runs rampant, many people are spiritually exhausted, which creates good opportunities for all kinds of thinkers and religious leaders to develop followers. The internet brings easy dissemination, allowing various doctrines to spread rapidly everywhere. After reading all kinds of articles, many people gradually become disoriented. Some become trapped in dogmatic beliefs, unable to extricate themselves, making themselves utterly miserable.

Perhaps my own life experience can offer a reference for some like-minded people. After all, the fundamental purpose of embracing any thought is simply to answer some life questions, reduce confusion, and live more calmly and freely—not to become heavier and more lost. Rather than struggle to choose, it is easier to choose lightly: take what works, use it when applicable, and when it doesn't work, find a new approach. Don't rigidify oneself under any dogma.