Pity the Heights Where Storms Gather—Do Not Climb to the Topmost Tower

When Yuan Shikai declared himself emperor, his son Yuan Kewen wrote a poem, "Ganyu" (Reflections), mocking his father for being bewitched. The most widely quoted line is: "Pity the heights where storms gather; do not climb to the topmost jade tower." It cleverly reworks Su Shi's line from "Shui Diao Ge Tou·When Will the Moon Be Bright?"—"I wish to ride the wind home, yet I fear the jade towers above are too cold at such heights"—to fittingly satirize his own father.

Unfortunately Yuan Shikai would not even heed his own son's warning. He reversed history and staged a feudal restoration, insisting on becoming emperor. Barely had he ascended the throne when Liang Qichao published a ten-thousand-character manifesto that triggered nationwide condemnation; Liang Qichao's student Cai E raised the banner of the National Protection Army in Yunnan, and the drums of war resounded. Yuan Shikai ended up deserted by all, his imperial dream lasting only 83 days before he died in disgrace.

Throughout history, at home and abroad, countless clever and talented people have ultimately foundered in the "too cold" heights. Hence the Qian hexagram of the Book of Changes speaks of "the overreaching dragon that repents"; the TCM classic Huangdi Neijing (Yellow Emperor's Inner Canon) says "excess causes harm, and containment controls it"; and Laozi in the Daodejing bluntly states that he "dare not be the first under heaven."

People always hope to climb high and gaze far, unaware that the risks are great once they reach the top. A pig on the wind can fly, but it falls hard. The Caigentan (Vegetable Root Talks) puts it well: "Dwell in lowliness and you know the danger of climbing high; stay in the dark and you know the glare of the bright; keep still and you know the toil of restlessness; cultivate silence and you know the vexation of much talk." When a person stands in the spotlight talking on and on, it is hard to realize that beneath their halo lie countless seeds of disaster. The most brilliant are easily broken; the more outstanding a person, the more they are envied and hated. One wrong step, and someone will try to push them into the abyss.

Su Shi himself is a fine example: he climbed high and fell hard. But Su Shi had an outstanding quality—he was someone who truly could be neither pleased by gain nor grieved by loss. When he became leader of the literary world he did not think himself remarkable; when he was destitute he did not feel life was especially bitter. He had great adaptability: whether exiled to Huangzhou or to Danzhou, he remained at peace, and his writing stayed fresh, elegant and beloved.

That is why Su Shi became an idol to many. Walking along the Su Causeway on West Lake, one can imagine how free and easy he was in this paradise on earth; tracing his footsteps at the Red Cliff in Huangzhou, one can picture the detached figure who wrote, "A small boat departs from here; for the rest of my life I entrust myself to rivers and seas." In Danzhou, Hainan, he said to his brother: "What is a life like? It should be like a swan stepping on snow: it leaves a print by chance on the mud, then flies on, caring not for east or west."

If one can avoid climbing high, it is better not to. Dwell in a humble position, practice the art of lying low, and one may still achieve much. Once you climb high and become a beacon, you become the target of all arrows. If you inevitably find yourself at a height, you must have the awareness of thinking of danger in peace, and, like Su Shi, build your ability to adapt to favorable and adverse circumstances. Do not be shattered by every gust of wind; be tough to live longer. Su Shi's political enemies hated him to the bone but could do nothing about him—because his psychological constitution was strong.

TCM has a disease called "shirong" ("lost glory"). It refers to someone who once enjoyed wealth and honor but, through the vicissitudes of fate, suddenly falls into poverty and wretchedness, and, in gloom and sorrow, falls ill. This corresponds to what modern medicine calls malignant lymphoma or metastatic lymphatic tumor, mostly late-stage cancer. A person whose spirit cannot withstand blows can have their physical health affected.

Chinese traditional culture—Confucianism, Buddhism and Daoism—contains rich life philosophy. We ordinary mortals living in the mortal world must deal with all sorts of people; the more tools in our mental toolkit, the more wisdom we have to cope with the world. Life inevitably has ups and downs, but our mood should always stay balanced. Of the four standards of healthy living recommended by the WHO, psychological balance is one.

Toward life, there is no need for excessive expectations; let everything follow its natural course. Striving to rise above others comes at a price. If you are already involuntarily trapped in the arena of fame and wealth, you might as well learn from Su Shi: take gain and loss lightly, be open and at ease, and avoid letting the world's ups and downs affect your physical and mental health.