This Spring Is Bright and Sunny

It has been three weeks since I returned to school. Every weekend I go back to my home in Beijing to be with my wife and son and take care of some work matters.

Since last weekend, the flowers in the north have been opening one after another, and the air is filled with the scent of spring. In this season of gradually warming days, my heart is at perfect peace.

Life at school is simple. Breakfast is a corncob or a slice of bread with a cup of yogurt; lunch is a vegetable, a tofu dish, and a bowl of rice; dinner is a hamburger or a baked sesame cake with an egg. The three meals together cost only about twenty yuan. In the dorm I have a bed and a locker; in the classroom I have a seat. With only these things a person can live quite well.

After a semester of adjustment, I — an older medical student — have grown completely at ease with student life. I keep a regular schedule of rest, study, and exercise; on sunny days I carry my bedding out to the sports field to air it. I smile kindly at everyone I meet, have no chores to entangle me, and no worries in my heart. Every day I learn something new, and my mind feels light and joyful.

My father is old and his memory has clearly declined, but over the past two years I have been giving him some medications that improve cerebral nerve function, and his mental decline seems to have eased. He can still take care of himself; he prefers living in our village home, where he has regular companions every day. Ours is a large village with several hundred residents, so he is not lonely living there.

The year before last I slightly renovated the old family house, installing railings to prevent falls, upgrading the well and the kitchen, and placing cameras where my father often moves. His living environment is much improved, and every day I check on him through the cameras. Seeing that he is well puts my mind at ease.

Because my father can care for himself, I have no major burdens; at least I can finish my studies smoothly. My son is growing along his own path and needs no fussing from me. He does not smoke, drink, or gamble; he has his own interests, aspirations, and plans for life, and has gradually moved beyond his rebellious phase, often doing thoughtful things that warm my heart. I have no intention of interfering with his plans; I believe he will mature at school and in society and eventually reach the life he wants.

After a semester of trial and error, I have largely mastered how to study clinical medicine. Last semester my average score across all subjects was 90.7, and my best-scoring major course was 98. With a solid foundation, this semester's study comes much more easily.

Learning may not really be that hard for me. Although I am nearly fifty, over the past two years I have taken the college entrance exam, gotten a driver's license, fought my first lawsuit, and returned to university — and did none of them badly. This suggests my learning ability is much as it was when I was young, and my self-discipline and steadiness remain as strong as ever.

Last weekend in Beijing, my wife and I turned the soil in the vegetable plot we rent, getting ready to plant some seedlings when we go back this weekend. Growing vegetables is not just a hobby for us — for two "second-generation farmers," it is a way of not forgetting our roots. I feel fortunate to have been born into a farming family. From childhood we were close to the earth and learned farm work early; our first life lesson was labor in the fields, and from it we learned a very simple truth: as long as a person is diligent, there is no such thing as not surviving. No matter what becomes of society, we are not afraid; at worst we can go back to farming, and anyone who can farm will not starve.

That is why we are not anxious — and neither is my son. A few times I have asked him: if one day Dad went back to run a small farm, would you come along? He replies, why wouldn't I? Farming is something you learn as you go. I think this mindset is excellent: as long as a person has the courage not to flinch even if the sky falls, and is not picky about any fallback path, he will never live in fear. When my son was in middle kindergarten, I took him to the street to pick up recyclables; I told him that if ever he were at his wits' end, collecting scrap could still feed him, and he should never fear for his survival. Dispelling his fear of life is the best education a father can give.

I have made no plans for work or life after graduation; I probably do not need any — letting things take their natural course is enough. My life motto is: "With desire comes suffering; without desire there is peace. Let go as fate dictates; follow nature's way." I have used this as my signature for nearly twenty years without changing it. These sixteen characters have become my deepest conviction; over the years they have shielded me from many storms and kept my mind at peace most of the time.

There is a Zen saying: "Every day is a good day, every hour is a good hour." When a person's heart is tranquil and at ease, everything in life seems fine. Perhaps I am in just such a state now, which is why this spring light looks especially bright to me.