The Path of Aidan -- Love is: A Father and His Disabled Child

Author: (American) Sam Crane, translated by Li Jianhua
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-04-01
Features: The Way of Aidan is not a parenting guide, nor strictly speaking, a textbook on love, as love is merely one aspect of human emotions. In this soulful biography filled with joy and pain, we taste the touch or gnawing of all human emotions. Author Sam Crane is an expert in Chinese culture. Inspired by Aidan, he draws parallels to the useless tree in Zhuangzi, transforming the parenting process into a journey of spiritual and philosophical self-reflection. In the book, we rarely see tears, but rather an alternative form of cruelty—despite doctors repeatedly kindly suggesting he "give up," he did not. Instead, he shaped Aidan into a vibrant "social being" with a soul and mind. Although Aidan's so-called "feelings" in his confused state were "revived" in his father's eyes, the reality remained heartbreaking. Yet, from the book, we still taste a profound compassion for the universal human condition. To say so might seem cruel—here, is Aidan merely a prop, or is he God himself? Aidan in the American edition, imbued with the wisdom of Zhuangzi, is a contemporary classic of love. A despairing child, revealing the path of hope to parents. Aidan, the 21st-century Helen Keller, who was deaf, blind, mute, and intellectually disabled, won the world's cheers. It is a deeply moving ethical story. The author's son, Aidan, exhibited epilepsy symptoms shortly after birth due to a congenital brain defect. From then on, suffering and hardship plagued the father-son duo. As a father, he did not blindly complain about fate but drew from Chinese Taoist wisdom and his deep love for his son, continuously striving to protect his life and support his growth. Although Aidan would remain blind, deaf, mute, and intellectually disabled throughout his life, his father's actions demonstrated the victory of humanity, the victory of life, and the victory of responsibility and love. Throughout history, many geniuses had children who, out of God's jealousy, had to accept a life of disability, such as China's Li Bai, Tao Yuanming, and Japan's Kenzaburō ōe. Did they harbor undeniable contempt or hatred for their flawed children, or did they endure and accept them with ease and tolerance? Perhaps this was God's test for the great ones. The author of this book, a world-renowned expert on Asian issues, was also forced to taste the same bitterness and reflect on how much "natural" Eastern wisdom of "all beings are equal" he, as an American, could embrace, and how much "natural" paternal love he could give. People often say love is fragile, but that is because love has not been intertwined with responsibility, wisdom, and tolerance. If life is fragile, the child's strong instinct for survival is unconquerable.