It's too short, you have to be your own lover.

 　　No need to search, no need to wait.

　　You are more suited to yourself than anyone else in the world.
　　You can be your own lover.
　　*
　　Be your own lover.
　　When no one is around,
　　talk to yourself.
　　No one in this world
　　understands your heart better than you.
　　*
　　Be your own lover.
　　When no one applauds you,
　　tell yourself, don't give up.
　　No one in this world
　　is more loyal than you.
　　*
　　Be your own lover.
　　Warm a glass of milk for yourself in the morning.
　　Whisper goodnight to yourself in the dead of night.
　　Choose a rose for yourself on Valentine's Day. 　　Prepare a sumptuous dinner
　　for yourself in the city twilight . 　　* 　　I will always love you, always understand you, 　　always care for you, and always be with you. 　　No more fear of loss, no more fear of betrayal; 　　you are your own most loyal lover. 　　You are your own most intimate lover. 　　* 　　As the great painter Chiang Hsun wrote in his book: 　　"The first object of love in life should be oneself. 　　Write poems for yourself, have a dialogue with yourself, 　　quiet down in a space, 　　listen to your own heartbeat and breath. 　　I believe that when this life goes out into the world, you will not be flustered." 　　* 　　Be the lover who loves you most in this world, 　　be your support, 　　be your confidence, 　　be your harbor 　　. You are the person who loves you most in this world.

Cold Dew, but not cold

 　　"Sparse paulownia leaves / Moonlight and newly gathered dew // Dripping clear light fills the air / Gleaming white light in the cold // Wind shakes the sorrowful jade pendants / Branches sway, cherishing the pearly branches // The air is cold, as if autumn is late / The sound is faint, as if the night is late // Condensed in the air, flowing everywhere / Moistening all things, a sight to behold // Do not tire of peering, for when the dew dries, it will be even harder to gather." This is the "Cold Dew" night described by the Tang Dynasty poet Dai Cha: The paulownia holds up the dewdrops, the dewdrops hold up the moonlight, the moonlight holds up the autumn wind, the autumn wind holds up the coolness, the coolness holds up the clear light, the clear light holds up the tranquility… Cold Dew brings late autumn before us, and we can joyfully dispel the desolation and enjoy the abundance of late autumn. Without the balance of desolation and sorrow, the words "joy" and "abundance" would lose their meaning. Rather than waiting for the sun and then standing under it to enjoy its comfort, our figures and labors should first shine in the moonlight.

　　The cold of Cold Dew is not severe cold. Compared to the Autumnal Equinox, the temperature gradually drops during Cold Dew, dew forms in the air, and a chill sets in. The *Suwen* (Plain Questions) states, "The fifth phase of Qi, its harsh decrees have been carried out; Cold Dew falls, and frost descends early." "After eating the Double Ninth Festival meal, one sees no one in a single layer of clothing." While this speaks of the coolness of Cold Dew, it is not the harbinger of Lesser Cold, paving the way for snow and wind; nor is it the representative of Greater Cold, laying the foundation for icy landscapes. It is merely a guardian deep within autumn, oblivious to the delicate beauty of the dew or the somber murmur of the autumn wind, diligently carrying out its own autumnal tasks: "Everyone is busy during Cold Dew, planting wheat, picking cotton, threshing beans." Cold Dew dislikes ostentation and doesn't seek the limelight; it is somewhat understated and simple. Little does it know that holding one's head too high or bowing too deeply will obscure one's direction. Cold Dew simply focuses on finishing the work of the month of You (酉), patiently ushering in the chilly month of Xu (戌).

　　The cold of Cold Dew is not shabby. Among the 24 solar terms, Cold Dew is not shabby. Although it lacks the fullness and balance of Autumn Equinox, it still carries enough coolness and vastness. If we don't look back at the fields covered in golden crops, we can easily be misled by the drifting, withered leaves. The wind of Cold Dew merely blows away people's arrogance and prejudice; Cold Dew's heart still yearns for the sun. Cold Dew is unambiguous; what should be harvested is harvested to the fullest: "When Cold Dew arrives, harvest the late rice; when Frost's Descent arrives, harvest the glutinous rice." "Harvest hawthorns during Cold Dew, dig up sweet potatoes during Frost's Descent." Cold Dew is also tireless; what should be planted is planted as soon as possible: "Plant wheat at the beginning of Cold Dew, plant one bowl, harvest three bushels." Life has its limits; mistakes are made by exceeding limits, harm by excess, and good by moderation. Isn't nature the same? Timely harvesting, timely management, and timely planting—doing what is worthwhile to the fullest—are essential. In fact, things worthy of pride are often the most difficult.

　　The coldness of Cold Dew is not a chill in the heart. "Crows perch on cold trees, flowers bloom in dewy water. The moon shines brightly in the shallow well, and the quiet autumn knows the ends of the earth." Even the Cold Dew is kind-hearted, offering the bright moon to lovers far away in the quiet autumn. As long as you sow and cultivate, and experience the baptism of sweat, a bountiful autumn awaits. Successful people often tackle difficult tasks with simple emotions. Unsuccessful people face simple tasks with complex emotions. Cultivate the instinct to sow in the romantic spring, hone real skills in the scorching summer, and strength will surround you in the Cold Dew. Little do you know, strength is an acquired skill, while weakness is an innate instinct. Never develop a wealth of skills and forget the instincts bestowed upon you by heaven. Mature people understand how to show weakness, just as mature rice stalks know how to bend. Be patient, be strong; one day, your sweat will crystallize, and your weakness, the pain you have endured, will help you. I don't love traveling; no matter how beautiful the scenery, it can't compare to the dew of the Cold Dew, which is everywhere…

Zen Mind in the Mortal World

 　　There is rarely a perfect solution in this world, one that can be true to both Buddha and one's beloved. In this bustling world, among countless beings, we eat grains, experience the joys and sorrows of life, and know the coldness

　　and warmth of human relationships. How easy is it to truly transcend the three realms and escape the cycle of reincarnation? The Heart Sutra says, "Form is emptiness, emptiness is form." Here, emptiness is not nothingness, but a form of practice, a state of being, a return to the simplicity of Zen. I once had the privilege of discussing Buddhist issues with Zen Master Jingfa at Xixin Temple in Bijie. One question he asked me remains vivid in my memory: "Who was I before I was born? Who am I after I am born?" Upon hearing this, I was filled with doubt, thinking, "This old monk is lying to me!" Whether before or after, I am who I am; how could I be someone else? Now, I realize how superficial and ignorant my understanding was.

　　In later life, I gradually began to understand what the Zen Master meant. Life is fleeting, like a blade of grass in autumn. In our long lives, we encounter countless difficulties and choices. The hustle and bustle of life is driven by self-interest; wealth and status cause many to lose their way, lose themselves, and forget their original intentions. Naturally, they no longer know their true selves or what kind of person they should be. In this vast and colorful world

　　, there are too many temptations. In this materialistic world, we must safeguard the pure land in our hearts and the innocence of our humanity. Meditation and enlightenment can help us be more self-aware and less worldly. Meditation and enlightenment do not mean taking off our suits and putting on monk's robes, or removing our red dresses and putting on Buddhist robes. Rather, it means possessing a tranquil mind, detached from worldly strife. If we are detached from worldly strife, who can contend with us?

　　"What is destined to be yours will be yours, and what is not, you cannot force." This is called Buddhist affinity. Life is but a fleeting few decades, passing by in a rush, and everything is preordained. When fate brings you together, it will last forever; when fate takes its course, forcing it is futile. Gathering and parting are both predestined; let everything be as it is. Clinging to anything will only bring unnecessary trouble and sorrow. Let go of your attachments and give yourself a free life. Let the storms rage on; I will walk leisurely. Without desire or wants, there will be no resentment or hatred.

　　Life, in its essence, is nothing more than gathering and parting; life, in its clarity, is nothing more than birth and death. The character for "person" (人) is composed of two strokes, because people are inherently simple. People shouldn't have so much greed, so much scheming, so much calculation. Live simply, be ordinary, be your true self, a genuine person. There's no need to hide anything; live as clean and pure as you were when you were born.

　　In the bustling world, three cups of wine; in the grand scheme of things, a pot of tea. What are fame and fortune, what are riches and glory? In the end, they are nothing but fleeting clouds. A thousand mansions, yet one's body is only eight feet tall; ten thousand taels of gold, yet one eats only three meals a day; pearls and jade, warm and lustrous, are only for admiring for a thousand years.

　　No one is good for a thousand days, no flower blooms for a hundred. No matter how glorious you are in life, when you leave, you are nothing more than a piece of clothing, a coffin, and ultimately a handful of yellow earth.

Departure is also a return

     Where is home in this world? Departure is also a return. Departure is a journey, and return is a journey home. Only the departing heart still yearns for the future, still anticipates the return journey. Returning laden with a bounty is the traveler's pursuit, whether spiritual or material. Because everyone's purpose is different, their destinations differ, their feelings differ, and their paths home differ as well.

    With hearts yearning for knowledge, exploration, and acquisition, we set off. Whether the journey is near or far, whether it's for someone else's instructions or entrustment, for the quest deep within our souls, or for something urgent, we embark on our journeys with our own purposes. There are joyful farewells and sorrowful departures. Thus, some are sullen on their journeys, some are content, and some appreciate the scenery along the way. They travel from city to countryside, or from countryside to city. Their noise, their passing by, their comings and goings, adorn this originally peaceful world. Whether in the vast deserts, grasslands, and snow-covered north, or the quaint bridges and flowing waters of the south, they are like ants rushing to a market, yet not as monotonous, perhaps because of their so-called differences. This is perhaps the difference between humans and animals.
    For life, it is merely a process. Before life, everything is murky; after life, everything seems clear, but in reality, it is also murky. Life merely survives by using the body as a vessel; we are merely observing the scenery along our own journey as our bodies decay from tenderness to decay. At the two ends of life, perhaps they are different, perhaps they are the same; the living do not know, nor do the dead. Faced with the unknown of the living and the dead, perhaps the coming and going are interconnected and the same (of course, this logic of mine cannot withstand scrutiny, but I am merely stating a feeling in my heart).
    Heaven and earth coexist, heaven and earth are interconnected; what we are familiar with is merely a fragment of memory left behind. And for the vast land, our pause is but a fleeting moment. While we remain confined to our own little world, what we see is merely a fleeting glimpse of nature. Much has already faded with time, becoming a sealed memory. These memories must be validated through our own vision, our own intellect, or through the legends we hear. As for those things lost due to changes in the landscape, even if we stay close, it's futile. It's like a dandelion; it only becomes familiar with this land within its lifetime. Where it originated, it doesn't know; where its seeds go, it doesn't know; let alone its origins. Perhaps only the fleeting wind can answer its questions. The dandelion is like this, and perhaps humans are no exception.
    To wander and drift, to wander while walking—this is perhaps the essence of existence. Because so much in this world merely serves to highlight our lives. Whether we are greedy or indifferent, when we finish our lives, all we take with us is our fading soul and our decaying body. Perhaps we occupy only a small fraction of the world's possessions while we are alive, but when we die, everything we own will be returned to the world, whether we acquired it from scratch or inherited it from our parents. Our temperament determines our attitude towards life; whether carefree or reserved, we are all on our own journey. Some people, as they move forward, focus only on one point; they may gain something, but they also fall into a kind of unseen trap. Others, as they move forward, simply experience a kind of joy in their leisurely lives. They don't care what lies ahead, they don't care about what they are supposed to be, they just go with the flow and walk their own path. Sometimes
    we live only knowing nobility and lowliness, sometimes we live only knowing that occasional loneliness is also a kind of toil. Sometimes we don't know the difference between near and far, sometimes we don't know the difference between large and small. The so-called large and small, near and far, only exist within our vision and mind, because we can only comprehend Zhuangzi's "Free and Easy Wandering," but cannot experience it firsthand. While we are alive, we should go out and explore. Pack your bags, carry your wisdom, and immerse yourselves in different places. Let a broad vision and a generous heart support you through the storms of life ahead; let your life, when it completes its circle, have few regrets. Whether the future holds verdant mountains and clear waters, or desolate deserts and lonely smoke, as long as our hearts are filled with romance and beauty, that's enough. As the old saying goes, since we've chosen the distant horizon, let's brave the wind and rain! Perhaps our destination is also our starting point, our departure is also a kind of return. Because "heading south while wanting to go north" is no longer just a fable. The earth is round; we may go in opposite directions, but we can still reach our destination. Perhaps we've traveled a longer journey than others, but we arrive at the same destination through different paths. This is not necessarily a bad thing for travelers. Because we are at the starting point of the circle, moving closer to the end along the circular track. Because in this extra journey, we experience more of life's flavors. We've gone far, yet we've also come closer; we've left, yet we've also returned.

Reading "Rich Dad, Poor Dad"

     1. Accumulating Wealth: Whether it's a rich dad or a poor dad, their views on money may differ, but they share a common thread: valuing education and learning. The learning process is also a process of wealth accumulation and layering. Only by mastering more knowledge can one better utilize that knowledge to allocate assets and liabilities. Therefore, they said: Education is the foundation of success, indispensable.

    2. Managing Wealth: Success = (IQ + EQ) × Financial Intelligence, which sufficiently illustrates the significant role of personal financial management in success. When you have money, some people quietly deposit it in a bank, waiting only for a few points of interest, seeking a small sense of peace, forgetting the time value of money. When you use financial knowledge to analyze and calculate, you'll find that you haven't received a corresponding return; your wealth appreciation remains minimal. Therefore, it confirms the saying: Only fools put money in the bank; smart people have already invested it. Others take risks, investing and allocating their money in different shares and proportions, layering it to obtain higher-value liquid assets.

    3. Changing Wealth: Mindset Changes Perspective, and the transformation of wealth originates from mindset. There's a saying in the text: "The rich invest in assets, the poor only spend assets." One of the main reasons why the rich get richer and the poor get poorer lies in their attitudes towards wealth. The attitudes, perspectives, and analytical processes of the poor and the rich towards wealth are completely different. In life, we must change our traditional view of wealth and establish correct views on life, values, and money, learning to "make money work for us." Economic acumen isn't innate; it's developed through solving our economic problems. Different choices lead to different destinies. The completely different perspectives of the "poor dad" and the "rich dad" ultimately determined their different paths. It's worthwhile to learn from the "rich dad's" thoughts and share his wealth wisdom.

Hiking trip

     Some say, "Life is a journey, and a journey is about experiencing different lives." For everyone, life is a grand journey, and each day is like a scenic stop along the way—beautiful, warm, sorrowful, or joyful. Travel is escaping your own city for a strange one; travel is dragging your weary body to experience fleeting joy; travel is leaving familiar places and returning with a different perspective; travel is returning to where you started and rediscovering it; travel is leaving your footprints on a map and slowly reminiscing and savoring the memories; travel is experiencing different geographical cultures and wholeheartedly enjoying a different life.

    The meaning of travel lies in having more time to reflect on life and attentively listening to everything nature gives you. When you follow your footsteps, the world becomes very quiet, very quiet… Everyone defines travel differently. Some people simply see travel as a way to relax, not seeking differences between seas, but lazily sleeping from beginning to end—relaxation is the kind of travel they need. Some people treat travel as a form of learning. They need to travel alone, freely absorbing the nourishment gained from their journey to aid their growth. On travel, you learn to escape. When faced with unsolvable problems, indulge yourself, temporarily avoid the trivialities of life. Perhaps the problems that seem insurmountable now will be resolved from a different perspective through spiritual elevation during your travels. On travel, you learn freedom. We are burdened by too many trivial matters in the city; travel is a way to unleash freedom, liberate ourselves, and live authentically. On travel, you learn to explore the unknown. This is a wondrous world; we cannot see all the incredible things outside if we stay in one place. Here, we witness miracles. On travel, you learn to know yourself. Find an opportunity to rediscover yourself and discover different aspects of yourself. Travel is not just about traveling the world. On the journey, you will experience many tests of yourself. Travel, go and walk, let your footprints speak for themselves. What you discover is a different version of yourself. Cast aside worldly concerns and briefly pursue the freedom you desire. On travel, you learn to feel nature. Travel humbles you, making you realize the vastness of the earth and the existence of countless people, events, and things completely different from your own. Broadening your horizons prevents you from confining yourself to a small perspective, from becoming cynical, hostile, or resentful of the world. Therefore, travel is always the best and most effective form of psychological therapy.

    On travel, you learn to find direction. Perhaps after a trip, you'll understand what you truly want, no longer feeling lost or confused. Instead, you'll have hope for your ideals, the drive to strive, and the determination to fight. At the same time, travel teaches independence, survival, and letting go of many unnecessary things. All the most wonderful journeys don't happen externally, but within each person's soul, discovering their inner self. Only when traveling can you hear your own voice. It will tell you that the world is wider than you imagined. Your life will not be without an exit; you will discover you have wings and can fly without anyone's permission. The world is a book, and those who don't travel only see one page. The scenery we often see is: a person always looks up to and envies the happiness of others, only to turn around and find that they are being looked up to and envied. In truth, everyone is happy. It's just that your happiness is often seen through the eyes of others. Use your limited time, limited money, and limited energy to see the infinite scenery. Life is about travel; travel is the beginning of life. Travel broadens one's horizons, expands one's mind, and makes you more confident, preventing you from losing yourself in the material and spiritual world.

    Travel eventually has an end; we know we will eventually return, but returning is different from never having experienced it. The meaning of travel is never the result. The world is wider than you imagine. Even if the journey is long, every step has its own scenery and its own feelings. Travel must end; the end is for the beginning of another. One death and one rebirth—travel gives me courage. Different cities, different stations, different road signs, different arrival times, different memories. And meeting is a memory; when you pour all your emotions into it, it's like recalling someone else's story. Life is a cruel thing; it doesn't easily let us linger in the scenery, it doesn't let us become intoxicated by it. The fleeting scenery, the rapid passing by, will be the most beautiful memories of the journey.

    Now, I cherish every trip, whether long or short, near or far. Every scene I encounter becomes a memory of the journey. Happiness is doing what you should do at the right age. Different ages should have different values ​​and involve different activities. You may have many ambitions and ideals, but at different ages, you may only be able to pursue what's appropriate for that age. Happiness is on the journey. Take more steps while you're young—either read or travel; your body and soul must always be on the move.

Hometown is not home

     Hometown is not home. Home is a warm lamp when you are wandering and adrift. Hometown, on the other hand, is the root of a surname.

    I have always loved Wang Guowei's three realms in "Human Words on Poetry": "Alone I climb the high tower, gazing to the ends of the earth," "My clothes grow ever looser, yet I have no regrets, for I am wasting away for her," and "Suddenly I turn around, and there she is, in the dim light." These are three realms of art, and also three realms of life, perhaps also applicable to the early, middle, and advanced stages of a life of wandering. We can see the bitterness of the wanderer in "Alone I climb the high tower, gazing to the ends of the earth," we can see the wanderer's faith in "My clothes grow ever looser, yet I have no regrets, for I am wasting away for her," and we find a sense of belonging in "Suddenly I turn around, and there she is, in the dim light."

    No one is born with a hometown. Your current place may be your family home for four generations, so you mistakenly take it as your hometown. It's simply because this place holds memories of your birth and upbringing, simply because your loved ones and fellow villagers are intertwined with this land. This fosters a deep-seated attachment within you, an attachment that resonates more deeply in your heart as you grow older and wander far from home. Humans are born without a true homeland. For most, we simply set sail from the harbor built by our ancestors, searching for our generation's ideal home. Perhaps that is our true "home," while our "hometown" may have been lost in the time of our grandparents. The ideal homeland we find may become the harbor where our children set sail, or perhaps their superficial understanding of their hometown after settling there for generations. Thus, generation after generation, people migrate and settle, settle and migrate. This may be grandfather's home, that may be grandson's home, but neither here nor there is their true hometown. A

    ancestral home may be the root, but before that lies endless migration. My father told me that when he was three years old, my grandfather carried him out of the mountains of Luonan on a shoulder pole, and they eventually migrated to Baishui. My father became a grandfather, and to his children and grandchildren, Baishui is our hometown. But for my father, his hometown was both Luonan and Baishui. Luonan gave birth to him, but Baishui nurtured him. It is said that my grandfather's ancestors migrated from Shanxi, first settling in Huayin, and then from Huayin to Luonan. In my grandfather's generation, they moved with my father to Baishui. Now, I cannot settle down in Baishui, a place that seems like my hometown yet isn't really my hometown. So a new round of migration has begun, and wandering and drifting have become the entirety of life and livelihood. Perhaps for us, the descendants of the Yang family, settling down is just a distant dream.

    I don't know where I will go, nor do I know where I will find peace. Because life is a process of searching, and also a process of moving from movement to stillness. Because on this land of Baishui, my grandfather's ancestral graves have been leveled, leaving only other families' fertile fields. Perhaps years from now, there will be no more burial grounds, let alone graves. And on his deathbed, Grandpa didn't speak of Baishui, but of Luonan, the place that gave him birth and nurtured him. Huayin and Shanxi, before Luonan, were probably the hometowns his ancestors had longed for! Thus, wandering and drifting have been passed down in my surname. Now, we, the younger generation, have once again set sail, once again begun our migration.

    Hometown is so dear because it easily touches the most vulnerable part of your heart. It is a utopia that cannot be found, a kind of warmth followed by longing and deep affection. It seems to exist, yet it doesn't. Perhaps for those who have lived here for generations, one day they will lead their people away to find their new paradise.

    As a wanderer, I like to look at the lights shining from the windows of settled people on my journey. I know that is not my hometown, nor is it my home. But there is the home I yearn for, there is the family happiness I cherish. Perhaps only the kinship under this lamplight truly captures the essence of human existence. I may be but a fleeting passerby here, yet the tenderness I felt in that moment is forever etched in my memory. Hometown

    is not home, but it is the existence of home that makes a wanderer yearn for it. Hometown becomes a memory and a concept, something to be sought. Hometown exists because of the memories of those who gave me birth and nurtured me; it exists because of the companionship of close relatives and fellow villagers. In truth, this is only a superficial understanding of hometown, not the essential home.

    When we begin to build homes elsewhere, the lack of familiarity may make us miss our hometown. Perhaps only when close relatives and fellow villagers give their children the memories of giving them birth and nurturing them is that place their superficial understanding of hometown, their essential home. Thus, this becomes the hometown of the next generation, but not yours; it's only because your "home" is here, here is the lamp you saw when you longed for it and yearned for it on your journey.

    Hometown is not home; home is a stopover in migration, while hometown is the source from which our surname was born.