Neither Fawning on the Vulgarity Nor on Refinement

Some people live desperately courting the crowd and fawning on the vulgar. Others live desperately putting on airs and fawning on refinement. I espouse neither attitude; the way of being I prefer is ease and freedom. I can't be bothered to court either the vulgar or the refined. Whether people like me or dislike me is their business, not mine.

Readers once told me I should mind my image when writing: some articles I should write, others I shouldn't, and some would affect how I appear to them. I was not very polite to such readers; I simply ignored them.

I need not mind any image when I write, nor decorate myself according to others' expectations. I am as I am, and I'll just stay that way.

I am myself, with my own aspirations. I hope to keep progressing on the medical road and find better solutions to more people's health problems. But all this striving is because I like doing it, not because doing it makes others like me.

I am a self-sufficient person; a self-sufficient person need not live on the praise and appreciation of others. The self-sufficient live in their own world and can always find joy in themselves.

The self-sufficient are not disturbed by others' attacks and slights. Some tell me people are cursing me online; others tell me plagiarists are copying my articles. I ignore it all. I feel these things have nothing to do with me; I would prefer that people not even tell me about them, since hearing such things wastes my precious time and disturbs my peace.

Recently my broadband service expired and the company kept calling to renew it; I couldn't be bothered. When they pressed too much, I simply canceled the service; occasionally writing something over mobile data is enough. From 1998 to 2019 I was online for 21 years—enough, and I grew tired of it. I feel everything happening in the outside world has nothing to do with me and needs no more of my attention.

Mr. Ren Zhengfei said Huawei's 5G technology would greatly change the world. He may be right, but to me such changes mean little. A self-sufficient life satisfies me, so I won't follow that bandwagon.

I am one small yet unique creature among all beings. Many people try to wash my brain, telling me I should live this way or that. Opinion leaders and marketing gurus take the stage one after another, peddling anxiety; relatives and friends now and then remind us we ought to do this and that. Few people's minds are not a noisy mess.

I am not disturbed by all this; there is no outside voice in my mind, only the voice from deep within. So I live comfortably, with few worries. Apart from giving advice to patients who trust me, I can't be bothered advising anyone else. I'm not insane; why should I worry about unrelated people?

Nor do I want to wash anyone else's brain; even toward my son, I only wish to exist as a friend rather than a father. During his minority I was his guardian, and the one thing I consistently did from start to finish was protect his health.

From childhood I told my son he need not obey me, nor his teachers, because what we say is not necessarily right, and even if right it may not suit him. He must have his own judgment; he has his own freedom, and must train his own sense and ability to choose.

Now he actually does this: sometimes he lets my words go in one ear and out the other, sometimes he takes them in. I think that's enough; I am not the kind of parent who thinks he is always right. I also don't like to fuss; I won't fret over my child if I can help it. I believe life will teach him everything; why should I be the one to worry?

Living a lifetime amid public opinion is no easy thing. I agree with Sartre that 'hell is other people.' Apart from a very few close friends, we need not care about others' views, nor need we make others care about ours.

In my first week of university I met a 'class advisor' the school assigned us—actually a senior undergraduate doing an internship. This senior could be described as smooth on all sides; to close the distance with us, he made much of his ancestry. He said his maternal and paternal grandparents came from different provinces, his own birthplace differed from his ancestral home, and he had lived in many places growing up. By this reckoning, he was a fellow-townsman of more than half our class.

So many years on, I do not know whether this senior has changed. I vaguely feel that someone who curries favor so hard does not live lightly; behind his smile there may be unease. Analyzing it now from a psychological angle, I suspect he lacked security as a child. I hope I am merely measuring a gentleman's heart by my own mean one.

Deep peace and happiness come from self-contentment. Fawning on the vulgar and fawning on the refined are essentially the same thing. Only those uneasy at heart are in a hurry to win others' recognition. When our own hearts are at peace, how outsiders treat us really does not matter much.