No Grudges in the Heart, Few Quarrels at the Door

After tinkering for over a month here and there, I have finally created another peach-blossom spring at home. I gave up the rented study elsewhere; with that financial burden lightened, my heart feels much freer.

I have finally freed up more time for reading, and spend much more time in the company of the Buddha than before. Day or night, I like to read in the small study I made of my two-square-meter balcony, where the Buddha sits on my bookcase. On the windowsill outside the balcony hangs a string of wind chimes I bought a few years ago when I was invited to Lijiang for a consultation and took the chance to tour the old town. When the wind blows, the chimes' lovely sound is intoxicating.

My home also has a long balcony of seven or eight meters; the wall-side row is occupied by six low metal bookcases I bought. On top of those bookcases sit the various green plants I have raised over the years; these plants make living at home indistinguishable from living deep in the mountains. People who love life generally love nature; those who bring nature into their own homes have no urge to travel far and wide. Where is the peach-blossom spring? If you can see it by looking up in your own home, why labor to search for it?

I feel myself surrounded by happiness, my heart quiet and serene. I have finally entered the state I long coveted — "returning from a hundred battles, I take up my books again." After so many years of clinical practice, I have long felt my own shortcomings and urgently needed a long stretch of time to study, sweep away blind spots and obstacles, and improve myself. Now that goal has been realized.

I cherish the life before me. Perhaps in three or five years I will no longer have such comfortable days; I expect more work will demand my time then, so I must seize and enjoy this reading time.

Every morning I wake at four, sit on the small balcony and begin reading, and around five-thirty make breakfast for the household. By the time the world begins to stir, I have already enjoyed a generous spiritual breakfast in my own little world. At noon, after handling various work, I read on; after a midday rest I cycle to the vegetable garden, do a bit of farm work, and return to reading and writing. My life is unchanging and looks monotonous, but because I love it, I have made it colorful.

I time myself with a Pomodoro timer — a fine time-management method I learned from The Pomodoro Technique. I divide the day into large blocks of time, so I can settle down to chew through tomes; reading a tome requires large blocks because it demands continuity, unlike news, which only needs fragments. Many people waste their finest hours because they cannot manage their time; I recommend they read The Pomodoro Technique and learn to manage time efficiently.

With this world, I am now beyond just "sitting in forgetfulness"; whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying, I have forgotten its existence. The night before last I occasionally accompanied my wife out to the Third Ring Road; looking at the streams of traffic and the city's neon, I felt all of it impossibly far away. Though I live right by the Third Ring, I basically never go out after six in the evening; I sit at home reading and am usually asleep by nine. So the nightlife of this bustling city has nothing to do with me; I am simply a countryman living in the city, still keeping the rural life of "rise with the sun, rest at sunset."

It has been a long time since I had any grievance or conflict with anyone, or any social engagement, so there have long been no quarrels at my door. Close the door, shut the windows, and read; study medicine, treat patients, and write. The world is complex, but my way of dealing with it is simple. This simple, clumsy way works; it keeps my ears clean and me light at heart.

My son is not an extraordinarily hard worker, but he is already quite hardworking; his level may for now not match what I was in high school — though that may also relate to the different learning environments of Beijing and Hubei students. We Hubei students, especially Huanggang students, have always been models of diligence. When I was in high school, the diligence of Huanggang students was second to none in all of China. The diligence and self-discipline I developed in that atmosphere have benefited me all my life.

Among his classmates, my son already stands out, and he has begun to show very strong self-discipline. So I am quite satisfied with him; his future no longer needs my worry. Recently he once lingered in my bed, sleeping foot-to-foot with me and chattering late into the night, disturbing my rest, talking about his mathematical dreams and listing the life stories of a great many mathematicians. He said he hopes one day to study at Princeton University, learning for a time from the great masters there, and to spend his whole life immersed in the hall of mathematics. This dream may not come true, but what is there for parents to worry about when a young person has such a dream?

The Buddha is the friend who has kept me company longest. Dwelling day and night with the wise one whose title is "Empty King," one's desires daily diminish and one's concentration daily grows. Desiring much is suffering; desiring little brings peace. Only someone who follows conditions and rests at ease can be calm and unhurried. With the Buddha beside me, I do not feel lonely at all.

Living in the world of mortals, if you want your heart not to be disturbed, self-discipline and forbearance are the key. I love tidiness, but my family may not share it; then I simply work harder and put everything in order. I dislike arguing, but many people in this world love to argue; then I keep away from them, ignore them, and let them argue on. As long as one is hardworking, relies on no one, and can restrain oneself, there is not much to fret about. Asking nothing of others and contending with the world, one is free of worry, fear, and affliction.