In today’s world, people have forgotten what is of primary meaning, and devote themselves only to things of secondary and tertiary importance.
Two people slapping down black and white stones from dawn to dusk in a game of Go , heedless to all else—for the cold, outside observer of these two, there is no formula with which to sum up their passion.
The feeling of a man floating in the middle of a vast blue expanse of sea, as he lets down a line to fish, is not something which can be calculated.
Even the inner feeling of the millionaire, who knowing that he cannot take it with him, nevertheless devotes all his energy to pinching pennies right up to his final breath, is not something that can be fully comprehended by others.
It is a great joy to forget the coming of dawn while playing Go. And is it a great joy to forget one’s own existence while fishing. Even with making money, it is fine if one becomes thoroughly caught up in it.
Becoming a rich man, scholar, or cabinet minister in no way guarantees happiness. One can find limitless interest in digging dirt. There can be indescribable pleasure in sorting rags and wastepaper.
Rather than becoming a cabinet minister, always suffering from one sort of stress or another, the free-minded life of the rag-picker is a far more pleasant choice.
Recently, I have completely lost interest in playing chess. This shift of feeling is an interesting matter. Just this summer I was so obsessed with chess that on seeing hitching signs with the character “horse” written on them, I would think them to be chesspiece knights. But now the winds of autumn have blown this interest away, and surely my chesspieces are now grudging their master’s fickleness from the drawer where they sit.
To be obsessed with chess, and to grow tired of it, are both natural. There is no need to be caught up by the game, nor is there anything wrong with playing.
Looking back on my former state, when I was so obsessed by a bunch of trivial pieces of wood, I now view myself as having been a fool. Yet, recalling my feelings this summer—when I was convinced that those to whom such a fascinating hobby was unknown must surely be miserable, and when I saw chess as such a pleasure unequaled in all the world that I doubted if I could tear myself away to attend my parents at their deathbed, or even to attend my own deathbed—to this person the current me would seem to be a fool.
I have increasingly come to believe that to make a fuss over what is good and what is bad, who is wise and who is a fool, is essentially useless.
Each thing has its own unique point of interest. Just as a musician can find limitless joy in a beat-up old instrument, and a scientist indescribable interest in the contents of a test tube, each person finds pleasure in a world that cannot be spoiled by others.
Therefore, we cannot judge others by our own individual views. At the same time, criticism of one’s own personal interests by outsiders is absurd.
It’s said that “a rumor only lasts for 75 days”, a fact which keenly brings to mind the disregard people have for past events. Even with our own previous opinions and statements, though at the time we proclaim them to be “absolutely, unquestionably so”, after a few days have passed, we often act in a way wholly contradictory to them, and unless others chide us for this hypocrisy, we completely forget our earlier stance.
On further reflection, it seems to be this ability to exercise selective memory which allows us to live from day to day in carefree bliss.
There’s also a saying, “speak of next year and devils laugh”. The extent to which events of the future lie utterly shrouded in darkness provides much food for thought. How much of the happenings of each day actually follow our own anticipations? The majority of the time, our lives consist of a everchanging series of unforeseen events.
Lately I have been thinking much upon the destiny/karma of the human soul/spirit.
*(rework) Though a man skilfully reasons and puts on airs, yet still fails to command the slightest bit of respect from others, it is surely because of the impurity of his spirit. On meeting a person of crytal clear pureness, we are filled with an idescribably pleasant feeling of intimate joy.
All phenomena of this world, without the slightest discrimination, are ruled over by the laws of cause and effect. Each person reveals his true nature in his mundane daily actions. What you see before you at this moment, is reality.
It is unwise to forcefully act against your surroundings. You must approach things with pliant resilience.
If you cultivate honesty and devotion, this will not go unnoticed by God.
We must bow down before all things, and give thanks for them. Without fail, this will in the end bring happiness.
