Ancient Chinese Wisdom

I love talking about books as I'm sure anyone who comes here often realizes. I love to discover what others are reading, what they have discovered and then dip my toes in the waters of those fresh new words and ideas.

A few weeks ago my friend Kim mentioned Amy Tan and she was quite surprised that I had never read anything she had written. I moved Amy Tan to the top of my "to be discovered" list, and started with "The Joy Luck Club". Which of course I loved.

So many aspects of this novel appealed to me and there were many times when I'd stop reading, put my finger in the book to hold my place, tip my head back and ponder the words, the meaning, the symbolism. Once again I realized that you don't have to be Chinese to understand the ancient wisdom. And yet again I heard these words in my head, as spoken to me by a very wise man not so very long ago, "when the student is ready, the teacher will appear."

The following passage from the book made me smile. When I was much younger, I spent a good part of my life worrying about how others saw me. I wanted to please. I was "trained" to be a pleaser by my father. Perhaps that wasn't his true intention but that was the result. I was always trying to be the person someone else wanted me to be that my life became fragmented. I was pieces but I was not whole. Somewhere along the way I had lost myself. Confusion about who I was, what I was meant to be, what I wanted from life consumed me. I was blessed to meet people who helped me to put the pieces back together, I was blessed with cancer that taught me so very strongly the truth of life, to determine what matters and what does not. If only I had had this ancient Chinese wisdom so much sooner in my life. And yet, because I wasn't ready to "receive" it would never have registered. The widsom would have been poured into my cup and seeped out through unseen cracks. Thank you Kim for bringing Amy Tan into my world.

My mother once told me why I was so confused all the time. She said I was without wood. Born without wood so that I listened to too many people. She knew this, because once she had almost become this way.

“A girl is like a young tree,” she said. “You must stand tall and listen to your mother standing next to you. That is the only way to grow strong and straight. But if you bend to listen to other people, you will grow crooked and weak. You will fall to the ground with the first strong wind. And then you will be like a weed, growing wild in any direction, running along the ground until someone pulls you out and throws you away.”