Tranquility is not loneliness

    Tranquility is the primal state of the soul; it is the translucent dew glistening on a leaf, the smoke rising in the evening breeze, the dawn awakened by the rising sun. Tranquility is a matter of the heart; only those who are calm and peaceful can truly understand its essence. Tranquility is not loneliness; it is the blooming and fading of flowers in the forest, the ultimate harmony between humanity and nature. Loneliness, on the other hand, is a cup of wine in the mouth of a drunkard, a chaotic state of mind when one is restless. Life is often spent in solitude, whether in one's hometown or far away. This is something perhaps no one wants to try, but one that must be tried. Few can achieve tranquility in this state, because tranquility requires a balanced mastery, a serene transcendence.

    I love the tranquility of the countryside, the fragrance of the earth. Sheep, crops, sunset, courtyards, and the sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking—all these are woven by nature. Tranquility is especially expansive because of nature, and it is preserved because of its simplicity.

    Tranquility is not loneliness; it is the balance and harmony of life, like a clear and sweet stream. Loneliness is like a bottle of intoxicating wine, a cup of invigorating coffee; it needs external stimulation to calm the inner turmoil.

    Tranquility is not loneliness. Loneliness often belongs to the wanderer's sentiment; it's a collision that never breaks through, a weary solitude, a loneliness amidst the bustling city. Only one's hometown can provide tranquility; only Xie Lingyun's landscape paintings, Tao Yuanming's pastoral scenes, or even the depictions of Japanese writer Tokutomi Roka, can give you a sense of peace for your soul.

    The most precious things in the world are, some say, things that are hard to obtain, others say, things we already possess. Just as tranquility is something that can be encountered but not sought; we find it difficult to possess it for long because we struggle to control our desire for gain and loss. Restlessness in the face of comparison, vanity in the face of fame, wealth in the face of luxury—all the tranquility inherent in human nature is replaced by loneliness. Thus, the hometown becomes a foreign land, and the wanderer's understanding, squeezed by the restlessness, vanity, and wealth of strife, degenerates into a loneliness of not knowing where home is.

    Roots are the source of tranquility; rootless grass is lonely. It's just that a lonely heart finds it hard to find a moment of peace; the ends of the earth become a yard without fences, and home becomes a utopia for spiritual sustenance.

    Tranquility is not loneliness; these are two feelings within two different states of being. One is the enjoyment of being in harmony with nature, and the other is the feeling in times of despair. It is precisely because life has such diverse possessions that our lives can survive in a state of joy and sorrow, gathering and parting.