The Harvest of One Season of Growing Vegetables

In the twinkling of an eye, from sowing to harvest to pulling out the now-old stalks, I have completed a full season of vegetable growing. During this time, our family of three has also built the exercise habit we had wanted to build for years but never could: every day we ride from home to the garden, work for a while, then loop around Xiangshan and Yuquan Shan before riding home. Over two-plus months, the three of us have each lost about ten jin—thirty jin in total.

Our whole family had long wanted to lose weight and tried many methods; my child's mother even secretly took diet pills, but the results were poor. Yet during this period, without deliberately trying to lose weight, our excess fat came off on its own. So the so-called obesity problem is, in the final analysis, a lifestyle problem.

The changes brought by this lifestyle shift were unexpected. I let my son enjoy the summer vacation freely, the only thing I insisted on being his daily cycling. Exercise not only trained his body but also his willpower. After mid-August, I talked with him heart to heart twice, asking him to settle down, work hard through high school, develop his potential, and get into his ideal university and major. This time, he did not resist his parents' preaching as before, but readily accepted it.

We used to think Xiangshan and Badachu were too far away and were only willing to wander in the nearby Zizhuyuan Park; now we can set out at any time and no longer need to overcome the psychological barrier created by distance. After two-plus months of persistence, the daily evening ride has become an indispensable part of our lives.

Working in the garden has also made us more diligent. I have been away from the countryside for twenty-three years; during this time, although I still did some farm work during annual visits home, the amount was small. With a garden, I had to work the soil frequently: turning earth, weeding, sowing, watering, thinning seedlings, and harvesting. The yield was substantial; for a while, our vegetables ripened faster than we could eat them.

Gardening is also a skill. My eggplants, zucchini, loofahs, and wax gourds did not set much fruit because I planted them too densely, did a poor job of thinning, and failed to prune in time, which affected fruiting. After learning some techniques from experienced older fellows who also garden here, I cut back many of the loofah and wax gourd vines, and the loofah and wax gourds set a great many fruits.

This gave me an insight: when a vegetable has too many branches and vines, it does not fruit. If a person's area of concern is too broad, his whole life may look lush with branches and leaves but bear very little fruit. So in future medical research, I too need to prune my vines further, narrow my area of focus, and follow one straight road to the end. Only in this way can I produce something of value.

I used to feel that time was passing too quickly, so I had an indefinable sense of urgency and dared not spend too much time exercising. Since acquiring this garden plot, that sense of urgency has gradually disappeared. On the contrary, I now have abundant energy every day; my mind is both relaxed and clear; I read more than before, and my learning efficiency has improved markedly. The combination of mental and physical labor has produced ideal results.

Clothing, food, shelter, and travel: the fewer things one depends on others for, the greater one's freedom—only those who have been farmers can appreciate this. I lived in the countryside for nearly twenty years and have lived in the city for over twenty; by comparison, although farmers look a bit more harried and a bit poorer, their freedom is truly beyond what city dwellers can match.

In the countryside, farmers have a great deal of leisure time at their own disposal, so rural people's bodies and minds are actually relaxed; rural life has both busyness and leisure. Now that I have returned to this relaxed life, I have indescribable joy in my heart.

I hope that in a few years my plowing-and-reading life can be even more complete. I will take my books and qin to the countryside and grow not only vegetables and coarse grains but even the staple grains myself. But I will absolutely not, like my parents' generation, grow grain to sell; self-sufficiency is enough. Growing too much is exhausting and leaves no time for reading and writing. I will also raise some chickens and ducks to make the home lively while gathering eggs to improve life.

After decades of living in dependence on others, in the second half of my life I want to live without depending on anyone. What I have heard and seen in over forty years in this world is enough to keep me from being moved by the various temptations of the outside. When the outside world can no longer affect our inner world, our lives can finally be fully our own.