A Mayfly Afloat Between Heaven and Earth, A Single Grain on the Vast Ocean
New cells arise from old cells, and old cells from even older ones; tracing back in this way, the cells of modern organisms are all descendants of ancient cells. Within the tiny cell lie billions of years of inherited and altered genes. Every cell, every living thing, is a product of history.
—Required High School Biology Textbook (People's Education Press), Book 1: Molecules and Cells
In Su Shi's "Red Cliff Rhapsody," there is a dialogue between the guest and Su Shi. The guest sighs that history passes in an instant, and that even heroic figures like Cao Cao ultimately vanish like smoke. Thus his joy turns to sorrow, and he exclaims: "A mayfly afloat between heaven and earth, a single grain adrift on the vast ocean. I grieve the brevity of our lives and envy the Yangtze's endless flow. I would ride with the immortals and wander, embrace the bright moon and endure forever. Knowing this cannot be quickly attained, I entrust my fading song to the mournful wind." He laments the smallness and shortness of life, dreaming of roaming with flying immortals and lasting beside the moon.
Su Shi was a broad-minded man, and so he replied: "Do you not know of the water and the moon? The flowing water passes yet never departs; the waxing and waning moon changes yet never grows or wanes. Seen from what changes, even heaven and earth cannot last an instant; seen from what does not change, all things and we ourselves are endless—why then should we envy them? Moreover, between heaven and earth each thing has its owner; unless it belongs to me, I take not even a hair. Only the clear wind over the river and the bright moon among the hills—these the ear catches as sound, the eye receives as color. No one forbids their taking, no use exhausts them. They are the boundless treasury of the Creator, shared by you and me."
Neither the guest nor Su Shi is wrong, but because their perspectives differ, what they see is utterly different. The guest's is the pessimist's view; he sees only life's brevity, everything in human life fading like an ephemeral flower. So he "entrusts his fading song to the mournful wind," expressing inner sorrow through the wailing flute.
Su Shi, by contrast, was a natural optimist, and so he saw another scene. He says that if we look at the changes in all things, then indeed even heaven and earth are in flux; if we look at what does not change, then all things and we ourselves are endless. So Su Shi chose to enjoy the clear wind over the river and the bright moon among the hills to the full, delighting in the present.
These are two utterly different states of mind: one is like heavy haze, the other like a clear, sunlit sky. Each of us is indeed tiny beyond words, as small as a mayfly between heaven and earth, as a single grain upon the vast ocean. However long we live, against the history of the universe we are but an instant. Yet our lives have come from afar: across billions of years of evolutionary history we have never been absent. Our genes derive from the ancient past and will continue into the distant future. Every subtle change we undergo to adapt to the environment leaves its mark in the gene pool of life on Earth. Where our eyes cannot see, there exists a cycle of life far longer than our brief span.
So there is no need to grieve the shortness of this life, nor to be impatient in achieving some goal. Life has always continued; it is not as short as we perceive. If one can ponder life from such a height, his inner troubles will likely grow far fewer. He will more easily become an unhurried person, neither arrogant nor self-deprecating, but moving through the long river of life at his own pace, neither hurried nor slow.