No Learning Apart from the Things

The Philosophy of Emotion and Mental Posture

There are, to be sure, myriad ways to counteract vulnerability; yet, much like physical health, one cannot acquire immunity overnight. Just as the path to health is not realized in a single day, the cultivation of immunity against vulnerability—to walk through life with a resilient vitality—is ultimately condensed into a single question: With what state of mind does one inhabit each passing moment?

Although everyone stands at the same starting line, a decisive divergence emerges over the years depending on the nature of this initial mental posture. Regardless of one’s talent, what is crucial for anyone is how this mental posture is erected. This, too, is not something that can be realized abruptly today or tomorrow. Rather, one’s mental posture is the condensation of one’s life at the present moment, an accumulation of results; it is the culmination of what you have thought and how you have lived in every instant. In other words, because life is enacted in the boundless continuity of the “now”—which is the very gathering of that culmination—one requires the resolve and determination to sincerely erect this mental posture.

This is particularly true in these disquieting times, as we approach a period of collapse where global synchronous instability transcends mere uncertainty. To survive the century of upheaval that will earnestly begin from this point, the only entity one can rely upon until the end is, ultimately, oneself. In an era that will ruthlessly cull the majority, the question is whether one can avoid being tossed about by events in the external world and instead carry through, to the very end, the conviction that serves as the anchor established within one’s own mental posture. Precisely because we are in the final period where we can still spend time in relative tranquility, we must prepare the greatest weapon for this new era of turbulence, nurturing it through trial and error while we still can. The trial and error of this period will assuredly save you ten years hence.

When contemplating these matters, the critical inquiry becomes: Are we, in the first place, actually wounded by the events themselves? Modern society is filled with stress in work and relationships, and a siege network is laid out such that avoiding it is nearly impossible. Furthermore, including environmental pollution and the rampant spread of inferior food, the human mind and body are subjected to unprecedented stress day and night; living from the beginning of the day to the end without stress has become a feat of extreme difficulty. Above all, such events occur regardless of one’s own volition.

In fact, I myself recently faced an event that forced me into deep contemplation. I witnessed extremely hideous behavior: people close to me, in whom I had placed considerable trust regarding both work and life, betrayed me with composure, spoke falsehoods, and, to make matters worse, attempted to pretend the problems did not exist and defer them. Because this was a matter that caused me substantial, real harm, the emotion that welled up was, inevitably, indignation, and simultaneously, sorrow. Why did they dye their hands with such deeds? Despite having spent the past year engaging in repeated dialogue and practice to avoid falling into these very risks, as we entered the end of the year, the problems they had concealed from me piled up until they could no longer handle them, and everything descended upon me as my problem to solve. Well, it is a commonplace tale in this world.

Naturally, facing such an event heightens one’s emotions, but amidst that, I felt something. The thought arose: is it not the problem that I recognize the event itself as an enemy disturbing my tranquility? By doing so, am I not, in fact, wounding myself?

Generally, it has been said in many theories of life that when emotions run high, one should wait for the emotional storm to pass, and after time has elapsed, convince oneself that “there was a reason for everything,” thereby reinterpreting the event. Indeed, if one looks back later, it is possible to accept that everything—from trivial occurrences to events powerful enough to completely transform one’s life—contained some lesson. And in truth, for those who consider the essence of life to reside in this retrospective acquiescence, this is likely attractive, and I believe it is one truth. Indeed, while it is unavoidable that humans cannot discard their pride when young, I have heard stories of people who, at a certain point, were able to discard that pride by convincing themselves to accept their life thus far.

Confucius also taught that at the age of forty, one reaches “No Doubts.” This state is a declaration that by discarding the pride held until then, perplexity vanishes; one ceases to cling to the past, accepts the life lived so far, and finally reclaims the sovereignty of life through one’s own active resolution and decision. Therefore, as I am thirty-four, there is still some time left before I reach that state, so it is possible to accept that it is no wonder I find such things difficult, given my age and immaturity. In fact, I have spent my time thinking in this way, assuming that life was, in the end, a continuum of such acquiescence.

However, what I felt keenly when I faced this event was something strange.
It was the question: “Must we really look back later?”