Where Did Our Interests Go?

The day before Labor Day this year, my son said he wanted to keep a pet. So we went to look around the pet market, and the child took a fancy to a cat. The cat was lively and cute; not only did my son like it, I liked it too. In the end, we bought the cat that had caught our eye at first sight.

After bringing the cat home, we needed to give it a name. Because we had bought it on Labor Day, my son gave it the English name "Labor" (Labor Day means the international workers' holiday). The Chinese pronunciation of "Labor" sounded a lot like "Rambo," the character played by Sylvester Stallone in the movie First Blood that I had seen as a child. So I called our cat Rambo, hoping that my cat would be as full of life and vigor as Rambo.

However, as the cat grew closer and more affectionate with me, the name Rambo gradually fell out of use; the name I used more often for it was "cat-son." Whenever I called "cat-son," Rambo would prick up its ears, and that look was truly adorable. Rambo is a cat full of curiosity: a cardboard box, a piece of string or a sheet of paper, an empty medicine bottle-any of these would make Rambo play with extreme delight.

Rambo also often comes to play with me. When I am writing articles on the computer and the keyboard is clicking away, Rambo will jump onto my desk, watch me typing curiously, and now and then scratch at the keyboard and my hand with its paw. Rambo has brought me a great deal of joy; it is as innocent and lively as my son was when he was little. I think it must be extremely satisfied with its cat life, because its simple existence is truly full of pleasure.

I used to keep a dog named Huniu as well. That dog and this cat had much in common: both were full of curiosity, loved to play, and overflowed with energy. Unfortunately, though, many people around me are not as full of vitality as cats and dogs; they seem unable to take an interest in anything, and have lost their curiosity.

I sometimes ponder this question: why do so many people lose their curiosity and vitality, and live as if life were not worth living? Many people tie happiness to wealth; in their view, they are unhappy because they have no money. But in fact, there are plenty of people who have money yet are unhappy, so money is not the decisive factor of happiness.

During this period I have looked up a great deal of information about higher education online, and read many posts on Zhihu written by people who have received higher education, observing their discussions of education and career issues. I have been relatively focused on information about studying abroad, because my son has long held the idea of going abroad to study.

I do not like to skim only the shallowest things, such as the employment and income of overseas students. I like to quietly observe every detail of these students, hoping to obtain more comprehensive information so that I can make a more accurate judgment.

What is surprising is that the range of topics for the overwhelming majority of overseas students is extremely narrow. CS, Package, finance, green card-these are the words that appear most frequently on the forums. CS is the most popular major that overseas students go abroad to study: a major related to computer programming. Masses of people flood into one or two majors, forming a phenomenon of crowding; even graduates of the physics departments of Peking University and Tsinghua University all squeeze into CS and the financial industry.

I wonder, do they all really like these two majors? The answer is probably not necessarily so. The world is rich and varied, and this phenomenon of talent crowding into one or two majors is obviously unreasonable. The only reason is that CS and finance make employment easier, and students in these majors find it easier to get a green card and stay in developed countries such as the United States. Some people, wanting to appear wise, keep repeating "CS" whenever they give others advice, telling everyone to choose CS without thinking, because it is the best choice for staying in America.

I cannot help thinking: so many people abandon the majors they originally chose out of interest, and change the direction of their lives just to stay. Are they truly happy? I deeply doubt it. On Zhihu, many overseas students bicker, and in the end it is mostly an argument over who is richer than whom, and whose car is better. To be honest, this kind of behavior is utterly vulgar, no different from the spectacle of shrewish women swearing in the streets of my hometown in the countryside.

I have only one son. I do not want to force him to compromise, and I do not want him to give up his hobbies. I would rather he be just like the Rambo he bought himself-always curious, and able to live this life happily. If one day he abandons the career he loves and, because of income and the green card, chooses CS or finance, I think I would be very sad.

Looking at the situation of these Chinese people overseas, I have become hesitant, and no longer think as I once did that studying abroad is an absolute necessity. I know my son's character very well: he keeps to himself, lives quietly, and does not like socializing. He is not lacking in the ability to get along with people, but he prefers to immerse himself in his own world. I quite worry that one day, because of considerations of money and the green card, he will have to give up the life in which he feels comfortable, and live a life in which body and soul are separated.

Nowadays many people say that one should step outside one's comfort zone, strive hard, and realize one's life value. I am deeply puzzled by this view: why must a person give up the life in which he feels comfortable and torture himself in order for this life to be meaningful? Is it because human nature loves being abused? A cat would never be foolish enough to torture itself to make its cat life more "meaningful"; only humans would be that foolish.

I have always maintained a respectful distance from the various prevailing ideas. Without careful deliberation, I do not intend to accept the views that most people hold, so the various trends of the world have difficulty sweeping over me. I am only willing to live a life guided by interest. Not every day, but at least most of the time, I must be doing the work I love. I firmly refuse to compromise myself for a mere pittance, and I am even more unwilling to step outside my own comfort zone. A comfort zone means a life that is highly adapted to a particular person; why should one give up a life that fits oneself so well to live an awkward life? Is it a seizure brought on by taking the wrong medicine?

I am a person accustomed to slow thinking. This is probably because, when I was young, many of the decisions I made in moments of impulse ended up exacting a painful price, so now I am used to thinking twice before acting in everything. I regard this as an admirable attitude; doing so, at the very least, keeps one from falling into the abyss of utter mental and physical exhaustion. In my twenties, I always had a feeling that my life would be much better if I took one step back. Over these recent years, that feeling is gone, which shows that I make far fewer foolish mistakes than I used to.

Human beings are one member of the biological kingdom, and our instincts are no different from those of cats and dogs. We were originally also full of curiosity about this world; driven by this curiosity, we were energetic and loved to explore, and all of this made us happy. But unfortunately, from childhood we were taught to consider the pros and cons of everything, and over time we were trained into social tools who only weigh advantages and disadvantages and no longer care about personal interest. That immersive joy brought by interest and exploration gradually became out of reach for us, replaced by the fleeting pleasure brought by the appetites of the mouth and belly and the satisfaction of vanity.

A few days ago I attended an event related to studying abroad organized by a certain training institution. The president of that company stood on the stage showing off how successful his child was in his career-having earned several degrees and obtained a position at Google. There was such self-satisfaction on this father's face that I simply could not bear to listen any longer; I slipped away midway on the excuse of needing the restroom, and as soon as I walked out I threw the book he had given me, which promoted his educational philosophy, into the trash. I think that parents like this are unlikely ever to understand the true feelings inside their own children. Of course, I also understand this father; perhaps the reason behind his words is just as the classic line in The Godfather puts it: all this is business.

The things that can long bring a person mental and physical pleasure are often the simplest things, even though to an outsider they may seem very complex. The reason I say they are simple is that such things are usually just like the toys of my Rambo-easy to obtain and maintain, with not too much extra baggage piled on top of them. If a life is loaded down with too many things that have nothing to do with inner feelings and everything to do with worldly reality, such a life can only be dull and insipid.