A true brave person will not regret the choices he made on his own; a coward, by contrast, is just the opposite: he finds it easier not to regret the choices someone else made for him, because in the end he can always dump the responsibility on somebody else.
Weigh the options yourself, choose for yourself, decide for yourself, and bear it yourself.
Listen appropriately to other people’s opinions, but never “seek help” from others, and even less should you depend on other people’s opinions.
If the final result turns out as you wished, go thank those who selflessly offered you advice; if the final result is less than satisfactory, then all responsibility falls on you—the one who made the choice. If your choice brings trouble to others, you bear that as well, because it was my own choice.
Always be prepared to shoulder everything, and then you will never regret your choices—perhaps at the time you really did not choose well, but still, you did not choose wrongly.
This is not to say that once you choose, you should never give up; do not go to war with yourself. When it is time to let go, you should be decisive too. Giving up is also a choice, and it too must rely on your own judgment and your own responsibility.
As long as one can “have a clear conscience” (问心无愧), everything is easy to face. Put nicely, this is the pursuit of “having a clear conscience”; bluntly speaking, it is just “refusing to admit fault to the very end” (死不认错).
August 12, 2006
Latest Comments
Half a Philosophy Friend
2008-09-09 11:02:38 Anonymous 211.68.2.168 [reply]
What does “contemplation” in Buddhism mean? Does “transcending these very thoughts or emotions” also mean transcending the “I” itself? If one really follows the Buddhist line of thought, then everything is illusory—why cling to a “real self”?
One thing needs to be noted: we do not know much about Buddhism ourselves. Moreover, Buddhist scriptures certainly contain false things, and quite a few of them. There are even more things that people have misunderstood. There are several Buddhist schools precisely because interpretations differ. So I do not advocate taking “everything is illusory” and using it as a talking point, since we may not truly understand it.
I use the character “contemplate” because it expresses the idea vividly (in my opinion). Just look at it without passing any judgment. In our everyday self-reflection, when we see something, we go, ah, I should not have done this or that at the time. Ah, I still failed to do something. At that moment we are observing ourselves with all sorts of demands and standards. It cannot be said that we are objectively seeing ourselves clearly.
“Contemplate” means: without judgment. Simply seeing things as they are.
To use a very familiar example, half a glass of water is just half a glass of water; it is not “still a whole glass of water,” nor is it “there is only one glass of water left.”
Look at things according to their actual state.
It is more or less a state of no-self.
Of course, others have better ways of putting it:
Seeing mountains is seeing mountains; seeing water is seeing water
Seeing mountains is not seeing mountains; seeing water is not seeing water
Seeing mountains is still seeing mountains; seeing water is still seeing water
So whenever religion talks about asceticism, or monks being unable to marry, I oppose it. This is not the way of nature. Rather, one must see clearly how these desires come about, why they exist, and probe their deeper layers. And once you see clearly, you will no longer be governed by them—that is what I mean by transcendence.
If you want to kill someone, would I oppose it? I would not. Only, you must see clearly and understand clearly. Borrowing from what we discussed earlier, once you see clearly and understand clearly, you also know that it is a choice. You may choose to kill, or choose not to; if you kill, you bear the consequences. You are free.
Half a Philosophy Friend
2008-09-09 11:11:13 Anonymous 211.68.2.168 [reply]
Let me give another example related to choice. When you choose, you rely on reasons, but emotions affect what reasons we use (this process is generally not consciously noticed). If we can see these processes clearly, then naturally we can also “transcend” the influence of emotions.
Gu Chu
2008-09-09 11:25:45 [reply]
I am asking what the “I” is, but you keep talking about what is important, what can provide happiness. Yet clinging to the “I” is not necessarily happy. Perhaps your view can be translated as “a state of no-self is the happiest” (just as you yourself also said “a state of no-self”). But why do you insist on calling such a state the “true self”? Why? On what grounds?
The connection between “memory” and the “I” is natural and obvious, because everything that defines the concept of “I” depends on memory. When you say “I am…,” you are always invoking your memory, whereas a person with amnesia will ask in distress, “Who am I?”
But what is the connection between the concepts “happiness” and “I”? What does the question of whether memory can provide happiness have to do with the “I”? And what does “real” have to do with happiness?
Half a Philosophy Friend
2008-09-10 09:51:51 Anonymous 211.68.2.168 [reply]
I never said that happiness has anything to do with the present self. I only brought it up because of memory.
What am I, where am I. I have already said it. When I “contemplate,” I am in the present. What I am “contemplating” is me, what I am. Must one necessarily say “what I am” out loud to others?
As for your once again equating the present state with amnesia, heh, I can only correct you for the second time. If I were merely discussing an amnesiac patient with you, then I am afraid that would be a world away.
Gu Chu
2008-09-10 11:06:45 [reply]
You said, “When I ‘contemplate,’ I am in the present.” What is this “I” in “When I…” then? Doesn’t your sentence amount to saying “I contemplate, therefore I am”? But the key issue is: how do you know that this “I” that contemplates is the same “I” that is present? How is this identity of the self established?
Gu Chu
2008-09-10 11:21:02 [reply]
In any case, remember that “I” is first of all a concept, a word. When you say “I am here,” you must confirm that what you directly intuit corresponds to the concept of “I” in your head. Mere intuition alone cannot produce a judgment expressed by a concept (for example, “I am here”); once you want to express what you intuit with an appropriate concept (“the present,” “I”), this must pass through conceptual thought. You say “contemplate,” you say to transcend memory and transcend the thought of the mind; all that is fine. But in the end you still have to say what it is you have contemplated, and you have to express it with concepts. Once you assign the word “I” to some intuition, you cannot get away from “thinking.”
Just as you asked: Must one necessarily say “what I am” out loud to others? But right now you are trying to say out loud that “I think, therefore I am” is fraudulent, to say out loud what you call the present self. If you give up this effort of “saying it out loud to others,” then there is no need to go on discussing it either; you may well keep to yourself, but then you also cannot refute what others say.
Half a Philosophy Friend
2008-09-10 12:50:47 Anonymous 211.68.2.168 [reply]
I look at myself. Heh, a kind of experience. It has nothing to do with brain thinking.
Perhaps people who have reached certain levels of attainment can explain it clearly, in concepts.
Or perhaps, it cannot be explained clearly. Maybe that is why monks spend decades awakening to the Way; otherwise, if someone has attained the Way, wouldn’t they just pass it on to others? I am not saying that I have fully understood it; clearly I have only just begun. I am only saying that some things really may be, as the saying goes, “to know it is to know it; not to know it is not to know it.” I am not very clear about it, and you can certainly oppose it with all your might.
“I think, therefore I am” — I can say that it is fraudulent.
As for the present self, perhaps I should not say.
Gu Chu
2008-09-10 14:45:14 [reply]
I do not care whether this kind of “experience” has anything to do with thinking or not, but if you want to state this experience in words like “I look at myself,” then that definitely has something to do with brain thinking. I have never questioned your experience; that cannot be questioned. What I am asking is: what exactly are you calling “I”? On what grounds can it be so called? Why, for the very same experience, must you insist on calling it “real” rather than “illusory”? What is the basis for your use of these concepts?
Western philosophy does not care much about questions of “attainment” or “state.” If someone promises you that the theory of “I think, therefore I am” can help you ascend to some marvelous state, can enable you to obtain experiences like those of an accomplished monk, then of course you have every right to say that this is fraudulent. But I am afraid no one has ever made any such promise.
Half a Philosophy Friend
2008-09-10 16:50:53 Anonymous 211.68.2.168 [reply]
Existence is not something conjured up by the brain, that is all. Right.
“I think, therefore I am”—you may say that is not a promise, but as a kind of orientation, then?
Gu Chu
2008-09-10 17:30:31 [reply]
If you are only saying “existence is not something conjured up by the brain, that is all. Right,” then there is nothing much to dispute. People experience existence through intuition; “thinking” can also be said to be a certain form of intuition, and it is certainly not the most basic one, nor necessarily the most important.
But what we are discussing is not merely the question of “existence.” The key word, first and foremost, is “I.” If you want to say “something exists,” that is to say, you want to attribute a certain concept to the so-called existence you have intuited—on what grounds do you attribute it?
You say you saw a banana. I suspect that your understanding of the concept “banana” may be mistaken, so I can ask you for the describable features of a “banana” or other grounds that can support the reasonableness of your use of this concept. For example, if you say you saw a red, round thing, then I think you must have gotten it wrong; that thing should not be called a banana. For something that people generally call an apple, what gives you the right to call it a banana?
Now you say “I see me”; what I am pressing you on is this: on what grounds do you call it “I”? What are the defining properties of the concept “I”? Or, to put it another way, what is the basis for the specific use of this concept? Is the first “I” and the second “I” the same existence?
What counts as “fraud”? If you clearly see a red, round thing that people generally call an apple, but you insist on claiming that you saw a banana, that is fraud.
One thing needs to be noted: we do not know much about Buddhism ourselves. Moreover, Buddhist scriptures certainly contain false things, and quite a few of them. There are even more things that people have misunderstood. There are several Buddhist schools precisely because interpretations differ. So I do not advocate taking “everything is illusory” and using it as a talking point, since we may not truly understand it.
I use the character “contemplate” because it expresses the idea vividly (in my opinion). Just look at it without passing any judgment. In our everyday self-reflection, when we see something, we go, ah, I should not have done this or that at the time. Ah, I still failed to do something. At that moment we are observing ourselves with all sorts of demands and standards. It cannot be said that we are objectively seeing ourselves clearly.
“Contemplate” means: without judgment. Simply seeing things as they are.
To use a very familiar example, half a glass of water is just half a glass of water; it is not “still a whole glass of water,” nor is it “there is only one glass of water left.”
Look at things according to their actual state.
It is more or less a state of no-self.
Of course, others have better ways of putting it:
Seeing mountains is seeing mountains; seeing water is seeing water
Seeing mountains is not seeing mountains; seeing water is not seeing water
Seeing mountains is still seeing mountains; seeing water is still seeing water
So whenever religion talks about asceticism, or monks being unable to marry, I oppose it. This is not the way of nature. Rather, one must see clearly how these desires come about, why they exist, and probe their deeper layers. And once you see clearly, you will no longer be governed by them—that is what I mean by transcendence.
If you want to kill someone, would I oppose it? I would not. Only, you must see clearly and understand clearly. Borrowing from what we discussed earlier, once you see clearly and understand clearly, you also know that it is a choice. You may choose to kill, or choose not to; if you kill, you bear the consequences. You are free.
Half a Philosophy Friend
Gu Chu
The connection between “memory” and the “I” is natural and obvious, because everything that defines the concept of “I” depends on memory. When you say “I am…,” you are always invoking your memory, whereas a person with amnesia will ask in distress, “Who am I?”
But what is the connection between the concepts “happiness” and “I”? What does the question of whether memory can provide happiness have to do with the “I”? And what does “real” have to do with happiness?
Half a Philosophy Friend
What am I, where am I. I have already said it. When I “contemplate,” I am in the present. What I am “contemplating” is me, what I am. Must one necessarily say “what I am” out loud to others?
As for your once again equating the present state with amnesia, heh, I can only correct you for the second time. If I were merely discussing an amnesiac patient with you, then I am afraid that would be a world away.
Gu Chu
Gu Chu
Just as you asked: Must one necessarily say “what I am” out loud to others? But right now you are trying to say out loud that “I think, therefore I am” is fraudulent, to say out loud what you call the present self. If you give up this effort of “saying it out loud to others,” then there is no need to go on discussing it either; you may well keep to yourself, but then you also cannot refute what others say.
Half a Philosophy Friend
Perhaps people who have reached certain levels of attainment can explain it clearly, in concepts.
Or perhaps, it cannot be explained clearly. Maybe that is why monks spend decades awakening to the Way; otherwise, if someone has attained the Way, wouldn’t they just pass it on to others? I am not saying that I have fully understood it; clearly I have only just begun. I am only saying that some things really may be, as the saying goes, “to know it is to know it; not to know it is not to know it.” I am not very clear about it, and you can certainly oppose it with all your might.
“I think, therefore I am” — I can say that it is fraudulent.
As for the present self, perhaps I should not say.
Gu Chu
Western philosophy does not care much about questions of “attainment” or “state.” If someone promises you that the theory of “I think, therefore I am” can help you ascend to some marvelous state, can enable you to obtain experiences like those of an accomplished monk, then of course you have every right to say that this is fraudulent. But I am afraid no one has ever made any such promise.
Half a Philosophy Friend
“I think, therefore I am”—you may say that is not a promise, but as a kind of orientation, then?
Gu Chu
But what we are discussing is not merely the question of “existence.” The key word, first and foremost, is “I.” If you want to say “something exists,” that is to say, you want to attribute a certain concept to the so-called existence you have intuited—on what grounds do you attribute it?
You say you saw a banana. I suspect that your understanding of the concept “banana” may be mistaken, so I can ask you for the describable features of a “banana” or other grounds that can support the reasonableness of your use of this concept. For example, if you say you saw a red, round thing, then I think you must have gotten it wrong; that thing should not be called a banana. For something that people generally call an apple, what gives you the right to call it a banana?
Now you say “I see me”; what I am pressing you on is this: on what grounds do you call it “I”? What are the defining properties of the concept “I”? Or, to put it another way, what is the basis for the specific use of this concept? Is the first “I” and the second “I” the same existence?
What counts as “fraud”? If you clearly see a red, round thing that people generally call an apple, but you insist on claiming that you saw a banana, that is fraud.
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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