Polishing the Years, Carving Life

On September 1st the children went back to school and my wife went back to work; the house was left to me alone again, far quieter than during the summer break. I like quiet. Alone at home, after striking the singing bowl a few times I read books, organize medical materials and patient records, write something, and do housework; the days feel full.

After handling the morning's appointments and replying to all the consultations, I took a little time to tidy away some of the odds and ends around the house. I do not have much time to organize things in one go, so I can only clear away a little at a time. I like to arrange every corner of the house carefully; after tidying things neatly, I place a small ornament or a tray of greenery in each corner or empty space, making the home as elegant and lively as the study I rented before.

The capital is a hard place to live, with very high housing prices. We live in the city center, and on our income we cannot afford a large place downtown, so we have to learn to live happily in a small apartment. Though the house is small, as long as I like it, it does not feel cramped.

Floating life is short. If a person lives twisted and always dissatisfied with life, they bring suffering on themselves. I will not do such a foolish thing; I can easily lower my desires to a state of deep contentment with my present life. This is thanks to my late teacher, who put so much effort into building an extraordinarily rich inner world for me with a great many beneficial books. When a person's inner life is full, they do not feel they are lacking this or that.

Zhuangzi, Tao Yuanming, Su Shi, Emerson, Gibran, Li Yu, Zheng Chouyu, Liu Shahe... behind this long list of names stand one interesting and well-rounded soul after another. In my youth I read many good books, and as I read, I myself became the sort of person those authors were. Few desires, a love of life, a fondness for nature and for solitude, and a liking for expressing my inner feelings through writing.

For me, poetry need not be sought in distant places; near or far, everything within my sight is poetic. The white clouds in the sky, a clump of wildflowers by the road, a stream at the foot of the hill—all can fill me with joy. A poetic life can also be made by one's own hands; I can decorate my balcony, study, bedroom, living room, even the bathroom, so that they are full of poetry. This does not cost much money; it only takes enough patience to water the houseplants regularly. These plants can adorn every corner of the room with life and delight.

I will never turn my home into a bare, empty space. Tao Yuanming said, "If the heart is far away, the place naturally feels remote." If a person's heart has already left the mortal world, whether they live in deep mountains or not, whether they practice decluttering or live as a hermit, makes little difference. Although outside the door lies one of China's most bustling metropolises, for years this busy urban world has had almost no effect on me. Apart from cycling to the mountains and the vegetable plot, I rarely even go more than three kilometers from home; an occasional trip to Zhongguancun strikes me as a novelty.

I am very much a homebody. I like to keep my home lush with greenery and to let this fifty-some-square-meter apartment hold all the hobbies of me and my family. My son likes collecting various figures and building models; my wife likes cooking and xiangsheng comedy; and I like reading, playing the qin, and growing flowers and grass. We each occupy our own corner, immersed in what we enjoy, without interfering with one another. Such a life is full of vitality yet free from worldly cravings for fame and fortune—what could be wrong with it?

None of us in my family has a taste for seated meditation; with nothing weighing on the heart and no confusion, there is no need for dhyana or meditation, let alone praying to gods and Buddha. As the Platform Sutra says, "Being apart from all outward forms externally is Chan; not being disturbed inwardly is ding." A person who is apart from all forms externally and undisturbed inwardly has no need for the superfluous act of pursuing Chan or the Way.

In the afternoon I went to the vegetable plot to water the various vegetables I had planted and pick some to bring back. Working in the garden, shoes and clothes often get covered in mud; caked with dirt, I ride my bicycle home at ease through the city's crowds. No one notices me, and I notice no one. Living in the secular world, getting along on equal terms with all beings and at peace with them, I feel that living so openly and freely is more pleasant than living amid flowers and applause. So even if the goddess of fate tempted me with royal power and riches, I would not be moved.

My years ahead may still be long; there is no need for me to rush headlong toward any life goal. I do not know what the good life is—because the standard varies from person to person—but I know that as long as a person achieves harmony of body and mind, of mind and body, and of self and the outside world, they can live in the greatest possible physical and mental health. So instead of twisting against life, let us polish the years like a work of art and carve our own lives.

Those who love life will receive the blessing of the goddess of fate.