Showing the White Flag

Five years ago I went to see a certain Buddhist monk. By then he had already been tonsured and practicing for several years; he was very humble and had become a deeply cultivated elder.

I had known him twenty years earlier, when he had not yet left home. He was both a writer and an entrepreneur, and lived a splendid life. But after leaving home for a few years, he changed a great deal. Reportedly, when someone criticized him, he would directly kneel down (in Buddhism this is not called kneeling but "prostration") to apologize and give thanks. He apologized because his own shortcomings had displeased the other person, and gave thanks because the other person had been able to point out his shortcomings.

This year I turned forty full years old, and my knees have gradually grown soft. Unconsciously, like him, when I cannot communicate through words, I kneel to apologize and give thanks. Life has changed me; I am no longer as self-righteous as when I was young, nor do I have that sense of self-important bravado.

Before those overbearing people, I have yielded; I have "shown cowardice." Not yielding to one or two people, but yielding to everyone. As soon as someone presses me aggressively, I naturally admit fault and yield. I would rather kneel and admit my own incompetence than play the hero. It sounds shameful, but I have indeed become so humble that I often bend the knee in surrender—even to my own son, my knees will soften. Of all the people in the world, only before him could I play the father with full confidence, but now I no longer wish to play that father, let alone before others.

Most people in the world think from their own standpoint, always able to sound righteous and always having a certain point, so when disagreement arises, one side must yield. In the past I always used to win the verbal argument, leaving people speechless, and took pleasure in being the victor.

Now, perhaps because of age, perhaps because of experience, I gradually no longer dare to wield verbal cleverness; I am willing only to yield myself and let others be the victor. My limited life experience tells me that people in this world are very hard to truly defeat through verbal argument.

In the past, within my family, at work, and online, I was not short of arguments with others. Looking back now, not once did any argument actually make anyone yield; it was only that I self-righteously believed I had persuaded them.

Now, examining myself honestly, I know my own measure. I know that all argument is futile: most people will not weep until they see the coffin; you cannot persuade them, but reality will change a person's perceptions. So I am willing to yield. When I am wrong I yield, and when I am right I also yield; after yielding, I let time tell others right from wrong, rather than my pronouncing the verdict.

So whether I am right or wrong, as soon as there is controversy, I immediately choose to bend the knee in surrender, giving the victory to others, giving space to others, letting others be the "father," while I yield and play the grandson.

The monk I knew, who so often prostrated himself to apologize and give thanks, also left home at around my current age. At the time I did not quite understand why he had to leave home; now I understand very well and feel a strong resonance with him. It is just that I myself have chosen to fulfill my responsibilities in the secular world rather than leave home. But although I have not left home, I have also learned from him this way of conducting oneself—rather prostrating than contradicting others.