My Aspiration: Open and Upright, Broad-Minded, Frugal, and Gentle in Disposition

At forty, I wrote down these sixteen characters as the life realm I aspire to: open and upright in bearing, broad in heart, frugal in life, and gentle in disposition.

I was not born an honest, simple soul; when I was young, perhaps, because of my many shortcomings and inner selfishness and darkness, I accumulated some grievances and enmities. On my side, I have already set all that aside and let it go. On the other side, perhaps they have not.

But just as Buddhists often speak of "dissolving karma," if past life has brought any influence on my present or future, or even caused me a certain degree of harm, I will accept it calmly.

If some punishment is due, then take some punishment. If someone feels that taking revenge on me would ease his heart, then let him have it. I take all of it as dissolving karma.

Buddhists have a saying: Bodhisattvas fear causes; ordinary people fear effects. So at my age, I no longer plant all kinds of evil causes; not planting evil causes, I no longer bear evil effects. The evil effects borne from evil causes planted earlier—I simply swallow them cheerfully. Once they are eaten and the karma is dissolved, I owe no one anything.

Henceforth I will govern my heart and my mouth, quiet my mind and shut my mouth. I will only reflect on my own faults, not discuss others' right or wrong. I will diligently learn some knowledge beneficial to body and mind, apply it as much as I can, and help those who need help. Beyond that, as much as possible, I will avoid stirring up trouble in the human world.

For a time I went everywhere seeking monks and Daoists and wanted to be a hermit myself. Now I no longer feel I need to flee the world, nor do I feel that the guidance or teachings of those so-called transcendental sages have much practical meaning for me.

Whether I flee the world or not, the world's influence on me is extremely limited. Hiding in the deep mountains and old forests is the same, in mood, as dwelling in the concrete jungle of the city.

Anyway, wherever I go, I and this human world are always half-near, half-far; if I meet someone of kindred spirit, we occasionally associate; if not, I enjoy my own company.

Nowadays I have gradually come to love minimalism. I have never liked being bound, and I basically live a three-point-one-line life of home–study–library.

In future I may even give up the rented study, lightening the economic burden and simplifying life further to a two-point-one-line of home and library.

I dress simply and plainly, am at ease with a life of coarse tea and plain rice, and often ride a cheap bicycle through the vast sea of people, hiding in the city and disappearing into the sea of books. Identity, status, and professional titles—these hollow things stir barely a ripple in my eyes or in my heart.

I am still the boy I was, as ever a nonconformist, as ever loving learning, reading, and writing; I seek no renown among the lords, but only delight between the brush and ink.

Now I also want, while my face is not yet old, my body still sound, my lofty ambitions still alive, before senile dementia sets in and my writing turns truly rank, to enter another state of life—immersed in academic research and writing, forgetting that there is such a self as me in this world.

From now on, I will not bow the knee for five pecks of rice, nor be moved by any external circumstance. I will treat illness as my lot and live life as it comes. I will not hold my head high nor bow it low; neither humble nor proud, unhurried and calm, at peace and composed, I will spend the rest of my life.

Previously I could not abide certain things or people; now I am less extreme. I can almost understand everyone's hardships, and no longer like measuring the world by my own preferred standards. And so my disposition has grown much more mellow.

What I like, I do not think it so remarkable; what others like, as long as it does not harm others, I also see nothing wrong with it. The world is varied and multiform precisely so that it can be splendid; if everyone were like me, it would be utterly dull.

With anyone, there is no need to conceal my own shortcomings; even if I wanted to conceal them, I could not. A rabbit wanting to hide its tail is seen through at a glance by the hawk; why bother to hide and dodge?

But what if others see through me? Though I have many shortcomings, I have never thought of currying favor with anyone. A person's best protection is nothing more than few desires and few demands, asking nothing of others and harming none.

Such a state is the most relaxed state I can find, the state that most liberates my self and is most harmless to all.

In the past I always hoped I could live in an age of turmoil, so that I might have the chance to rise up, raise my arm, see multitudes respond, and become a great hero.

Now I am very glad I live in a peaceful age. Between people, even if there is some scheming and deceit, as long as I can control my own desires, I need not take up arms against anyone.

Once this outside interference is set aside, my own life belongs to me almost one hundred percent. The rest of my days can then be entirely chosen and arranged by myself; this is the supreme freedom.

Freedom that requires a certain amount of wealth to achieve is the greatest unfreedom. Freedom that demands nothing is complete freedom. Freedom is truly the deepest need in the depths of human nature.

This is enough; to seek more is suffering.