Living Open-Mindedly and Optimistically in the Real World

Among ancient Chinese men of letters, my favorite is Su Dongpo. He was genuine, broad-minded, adaptable, and flexible; no matter what befell him, he remained as open and at ease as ever. Confucius said that at forty one is free from perplexities, and Su Dongpo's conduct in the second half of his life was exemplary.

There is a story about Su Dongpo. Once he was smugly convinced that he had made great progress in understanding the Buddhist Dharma and reached the state of being unmoved by the eight winds. Proud of himself, he wrote a poem: “I bow to the Sage beyond the heavens, whose radiant light illumines the great cosmos; unmoved by the eight winds, I sit serene on the purple golden lotus.” He hurriedly copied it onto paper and had his servant boy carry it to his good friend, the monk Foyin, to read. He fully expected Foyin to heap praise on him, but to his surprise Foyin replied with just two words: Nonsense.

When Su Dongpo saw the note Foyin had sent back, he flew into a rage and stormed across the river to confront Foyin. Foyin would not open the door, but pasted a couplet on it instead: “Unmoved by the eight winds, yet one 'nonsense' sends him across the river.” Seeing this, Su Dongpo had a sudden awakening, burst out laughing, and realized that his so-called state was something he could talk about but not live up to.

I have grown all the fonder of Su Dongpo because of this story, for this is what real human nature is like. Only the greatest heroes can be their true selves, and Su Dongpo was a man who showed the world his true face. I am wary of people who seem flawless and always keep my distance from them; modern media often fabricate perfect idols, and I regard all such people as pseudo-people. Real people always have some flaw, or rather, imperfection is what true beauty is.

From the standpoint of brain science, a person who has trained himself to have no emotions at all would be truly terrifying; in fact, such a person does not exist. The limbic system of our brain governs our emotions, and normal emotional responses are an instinct that living things must possess to survive in nature. Someone like Su Dongpo—both rational and emotional, with the occasional emotional reaction—is a normal person.

Su Dongpo was repeatedly demoted throughout his life, and only toward the very end did the emperor finally think of reinstating him, a small bright spot in his later years. His political rivals, fearing that Su Dongpo would retaliate, hastily sent envoys to make friendly overtures, but Su Dongpo, magnanimous and open-minded, declared that he had not minded it at all. Unfortunately, on his way back he caught an infectious disease and passed away, and that reinstatement came to nothing. Was he unlucky? Not necessarily. A hundred years of life pass like a white pony glimpsed through a crack; Su Dongpo lived a splendid life, and there was no need to fret over such gains and losses.

Su Dongpo was remarkably adaptable. Not long after each demotion, he was once again happily settled in the new place and the new life. This tremendous adaptability makes the poetry and prose he wrote especially endearing. It is no surprise for a person to be joyful in prosperous times, but to remain full of joy in adversity is truly remarkable. At his busiest, Su Dongpo had to farm more than ten mu of land to feed his family. I have farmed in the countryside, so I know how backbreaking it is to till more than ten mu the primitive way. Yet even under such living conditions Su Dongpo stayed optimistic and broad-minded, which is all the more admirable.

I study medicine and have, in a rough way, familiarized myself with the history of human plagues. I know that the current disaster will last a long time, and I have already accepted it in my heart. From a biological point of view, whenever the human species overbreeds, plagues and wars become inevitable; only in this way can ecological balance among species be maintained. So this is an inevitable law of nature, and there is no need to hold too many emotional feelings about it. Once a disaster strikes, just do whatever you can to reduce its harm; panic and anger are of no avail. This catastrophe will make everyone realize that life is like being shipwrecked at sea—each person can only rely on themselves to be saved. The relief capacity of governments and society is always limited, so preparing for oneself in advance matters all the more.

I have seen urban residents, after disasters strike other cities, complacently believing that their own city could do better. This is an illusion born of ignorance about public health emergencies; no government or city can perform satisfactorily in a public-health crisis, because public resources are finite.

I did not join in the recent panic-buying in Beijing, because I had already made ample preparations in advance. I had even, in an earlier article, more or less calculated the specific dates for this wave of the epidemic in Beijing—at the time I thought Beijing would face heavy prevention pressure in May through July. So the rapid escalation of the epidemic in Beijing was within my expectations, and I did not panic in the slightest.

In times like these, we need a bit of Su Dongpo's spirit: whether in good times or bad, we should remain open and optimistic. With so many people living on Earth—so many that it would take two Earths to support us all—it is inevitable that living conditions will be hard. We must learn to find joy in simple, monotonous life; when a person can feel happiness just from gazing at a single plant or tree, even the hardest days will not seem so unbearable.

Hardship is not that frightening. During the Spring Festival when I was twenty, I was stranded penniless at the Jinan railway station and went several days without a meal. What I longed for most then was a single yuan to buy a few sesame cakes to fill my stomach. Later I sold the few books I was carrying to a college student waiting in the station hall, got five yuan, and finally had my sesame cakes; as I ate them, I felt that life was bliss. When a person has been hungry for a long time, a full belly is the greatest happiness. Back then I thought, things can hardly be worse than this. After I got through such bitter days, I could endure almost any hardship and find joy even in a difficult life.

Many people hope the gloom will pass as soon as possible; with all respect, this gloom will not be lifting any time soon. Wise people should learn to adapt to the new environment, lay aside those foolish expectations and illusions, and seek new joys in the real world—only then can we not waste this life.