Chapter 754: A Cloud Drifting in the Sky

A cloud drifting in the sky

April 5: A cloud drifting in the sky

"White three thousand zhang, because sorrow seems long." This is the poet sighing, "Old age is approaching, I fear that my reputation will not be established." Perhaps "fear that my reputation will not be established" is the reason for the poet's "white three thousand zhang"? In this world, many people toil for "clothing on their bodies and food in their mouths." Busy and busy, the black hair on their heads turns white. Could the meaning of life be to let that "black hair turn into" "white three thousand zhang"?

"The Bible says: "Just as he came naked from his mother's womb, so he will depart naked; what he has gained through toil, he cannot take even a shred with him. As he came, so he shall go." Could this be the value of being busy?"

Once, Zigong asked Kongzi about the principles of being human, and Zigong said: "To be poor yet not fawn, to be rich yet not arrogant—what do you think of such a person?"

Kongzi replied: "To achieve being poor yet not fawning, rich yet not arrogant is already very rare. But it is still not as good as being poor yet joyful in seeking the Dao, and being wealthy yet fond of rites."

Kongzi's demands on his students are a bit too high. His meaning: those who study must willingly endure poverty, focus their thoughts entirely on learning, wholeheartedly read the sages' books, and not hear outside affairs. They train people to be bookworms, book idiots. What benefit do such people have for the world?

Li Bai, while wandering in Shandong, once wrote a poem mocking those who turned white-haired from studying, saying: "The rustic scholar discusses the Five Classics, but dies over the chapters. Ask him about economic policies, and he is lost in a haze of mist..." Li Bai said, these Confucian scholars spend their lives buried in the Four Books and Five Classics; they can speak fluently about the contents of the books, but when faced with real-world problems, they are at a loss. In fact, Li Bai himself is a dead-book reader.

Books—some people read them to death; others read them to life. Those who read books to death are like "drilling into a bull's horn" not knowing how to turn the Dao; those who read books to life are those who flexibly apply the knowledge in books. Perhaps this is two ways of survival—

"Your thoughts are like a stubborn tree, its roots and trunk dead‑clinging to traditional soil, its branches straining upward; my thoughts are like a cloud drifting in the sky, afterwards descending sweet dew, becoming a stream rushing to the sea, then turning into mist rising to the heavens."