The wisdom of letting go

 　　Zhi Dun, a famous monk of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, was skilled in poetry and calligraphy, particularly cursive and clerical scripts, but his greatest love was raising horses and cranes.

　　One day, a friend came to visit his horse and accidentally let Zhi Dun's beloved horse run away. The friend felt very guilty, but Zhi Dun comforted him, saying, "I love horses for their spirit and valor. As long as it remains spirited, it doesn't matter who raises it."

　　He also loved cranes very much, even keeping them in his house. Once, an unsuspecting friend visited and opened the door, letting his crane fly away. The friend was deeply ashamed, but Zhi Dun said to him, "Don't be sad. Cranes are creatures that soar to the heavens; how can they be kept for our mere amusement?"

　　Zhi Dun loved horses and cranes, but he was not bound by them, ensnared by them, confused by them, or attached to them. Faced with his loss, he did not complain or feel resentful, but remained calm and composed. This courage and wisdom in letting go is truly admirable.

　　Yet, how many people around us cannot act so freely? They are often bound by material possessions and troubled by emotions, struggling day and night in the prison of their own minds. In truth, all our troubles and anxieties stem from our stubborn, overly obsessed hearts.

　　Since we've lost it, since it's futile, since our fate has run its course, since no amount of tears can bring back what's gone, we should muster the courage to cut ties decisively, severing our past loves and abandoning our deepest affections. Then, we can hold our heads high, stride forward, and embark on a new chapter, seeking the next beautiful destiny. If the passage of time cannot wash away the loss that permeates our hearts, cannot dispel the sorrow that shrouds them, then it is only we ourselves who will suffer.

　　I remember reading some articles about "decluttering," which said that only by decisively discarding many unnecessary old things in our lives can we keep our living space fresh and spacious. And aren't the things we've lost, the relationships we've broken, also remnants of our spirit? If we allow them to occupy the space in our hearts, to fill it like tattered cotton wool, to spread rampantly like weeds across our hearts, how can we possibly have the joy and happiness to embrace beautiful things? Where will the fields of our hearts find the soil to nurture those beautiful emotions?

　　In this light, letting go is not cold-heartedness, nor is releasing it heartlessness, but rather a boldness to toast the past, a courage to accept reality, and even more so, a great wisdom to begin a new chapter.