Ruyi Qiu's Life Philosophy

Author: Yu Qiuyu
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: Yu Qiuyu, who had "stopped writing" three times, recently released a new work—Yu Qiuyu's Life Philosophy! What is noteworthy is that nearly a quarter of the book consists of texts added by Yu Qiuyu after his "stop writing" to make the book more complete. In this book, Yu Qiuyu no longer remains silent about the phenomena he despises but instead delivers fierce criticism in a rather intense tone. Yu Qiuyu's Life Philosophy took two years from planning to publication, with Yu Qiuyu personally selecting the essence from all his works and adding nearly a quarter of new content. The entire book revolves around the theme of "life," showcasing Yu Qiuyu's insights and reflections on life from different perspectives.
In the winter season, when all trees wither and mountains lose their color, only the leaves between the pages preserve some memories for people. Even outside winter, many people are too busy or unable to roam the mountains, so a few leaves are still an excellent gift. If different leaves can be pieced together to form magical patterns, it becomes even more interesting. The book before you is a collection of leaves I plucked from the trees in the mountains. They have detached from the branches that once nourished them but have now pieced together to form a pattern called "life." If you lean in close to sniff, you might still catch a faint scent of the mountains.
One day, I was utterly captivated by the poplar forests on the western side of the Mongolian grasslands. The twilight hues illuminated the clusters of amber-like, translucent leaves in infinite layers, yet they remained so simple. As the mist spread softly, a white horse appeared, its rider dressed in wine-red attire, slim and youthful, exuding a heroic aura. But beneath the poplar forest, the rider's figure became only a tiny silhouette, breaking the tranquility. The horse stopped beside me because there was a pond nearby where it could drink. The young rider greeted me kindly and asked where I was going. He smiled shyly and said, "No particular reason." "Why are you riding so fast if there's nothing to do?" I asked. He hesitated and replied, "We were playing cards in the tent, but we're missing a few cards. I'm going to the town to buy a new deck." It was indeed no big deal. But he added that this time, he would ride eighty kilometers.
As he rode away, his figure gradually blended into the night and the poplar forest, like smoke and illusion. I squinted at the distance and thought: He doesn’t know how beautiful the path he’s traversing is; he doesn’t even know that because of him and his horse, the path has become even more beautiful. The unparalleled beauty of eighty kilometers weighs more than a deck of playing cards. It is the difference in how people answer this question that distinguishes a cultured individual from the ordinary. I will use this scene to compare life. The process of life is often far more important than its purpose. Yet, people tend to overlook the white horse passing through the amber-like, translucent poplar forest in the mist and instead focus solely on the deck of cards.
Some say that every process exists for the sake of a purpose. I disagree. Can the breathtaking beauty of a landscape that has dazzled for millions of years have been created solely because of a deck of cards? Don’t overthink the gamble between the horse’s starting point and its destination. Beyond the gamble, the autumn colors are already deep. Every morning, the geese take flight. Crossing the morning glow, soaring through clouds, braving gusts of wind, and diving into the twilight—finally settling in the reed marshes of the night. Can we say that darkness is their daily? True, the morning glow, clouds, gusts, and twilight all come and go in haste, but can darkness be eternal? For the geese, what drives them to act is everything that opposes darkness. Action is more important than, and is merely for the action of tomorrow.
Don’t set too many destination-oriented goals in life. All goals are dark or at least hazy, while only action accompanies the light. Our scholars only bow their heads to search for geese nests in each reed marsh, never looking up to observe the geese’s true living space. They say, "Wings are no longer visible in the sky, only feathers have fallen to the ground." They say, "The endless sky is too vast, and only the mud on their feet is true knowledge." P3-4