I was often misunderstood to be very “arrogant” due to my visual impairment.  To those who saw and greeted me, I often “turned a blind eye.”  Those who know me well understand that I have poor vision, but not bad enough to need a guide dog. 

However, in my career, I really do need a “guide dog.”  The road to physical rehabilitation looks smooth, but is very rough in reality.  Outsiders often are aware only of the honors and applause I have received, and only I know its hardships.  The fact that I have been able to stumble all the way to today has depended entirely on help of the “guide dog” in my heart.  Because it is hidden secretly in my heart, I have never realized its existence up till now.  If it were not for a gift that I received, perhaps to this day I would not be able to fully realize this and share it with you all. 

A good friend presented me a plaque that says “Honest, Cautious, Diligent”

A year after the studio was established, one day at the studio I received a gift from a good friend —— an imitation of the Kangxi emperor’s handwritten plaque “Honest, Cautious, Diligent.”   The moment I saw it, my heart fluttered, and I had a trance-like sense that I had written such a plaque in my dreams.  But I was busy at that time, and did not think too much of it.  I liked it very much, so I’ve kept it hanging on the wall in my office, and every time I glanced its way, it seemed to strike a chord in my heart.   

Where was this feeling coming from?  It was definitely not because of its wonderful handwriting (this was a mature calligraphic work of Kangxi, and the strokes are powerful and vigorous), or because it came from the hands of the emperor.  I have mixed feelings for Emperor Kangxi, not his greatest fan, so I would not think so much of him when I saw his works.  As time went on, I realized more and more that what had truly touched my heart was those three words: “Honest, Cautious, Diligent.”

These three words describe all the gains and losses, honors and disgraces of my physical rehabilitation journey.  Guided by those words, I could always get up when I fell down, and never lose my direction.  I could be not only brave but also wise when facing sports injuries; I knew when to stop when I was stepping out of line and being punished.  “Honest, Cautious, Diligent;” these three words are the essence of all the benefits of learning in physical rehabilitation.  So whenever I see them, there is a strongly resonant response from me. 

The “pain” of my career

Before the physical rehabilitation studio was established, I worked at New York University and Hong Kong Polytechnic University, respectively.  Even though the job was busy, it was really quite simple.  I went with the flow and worked the job I loved, teaching students and treating patients.  Every day was filled with happiness, so even though I was middle aged, I felt like a boy. 

Returning to China to set up the studio, what I faced was no longer just a simple job, but the complexity of the human nature, the noise of the secular world, the temptation of fame and fortune, and so on, which often confused and distracted my mind.  In particular, the daily pressure of business made me irritable and fretful.  I worked in such state of mind, and soon I discovered that my level of diagnosis and treatment had declined.  For a period of time, I even thought that I could not treat people.  Confronted with patients I had no confidence, and did not dare to look into their eyes; all my previous confidence and self-assurance disappeared.  This situation was a heavy blow to my career, and I was forced to sit myself down and think what had really gone wrong.  My conclusion was that, in order to keep the business going, all I had thought about was how to keep my clients, resulting in a decline in the standard of clinical diagnosis and treatment. 

In fact, I had a pretty good idea about my own level after many years of experience in clinical treatment and diagnosis, and the reason why there was such a big change before and after the studio was that I had lost the “honor” in my heart.  This first word of the three is a critical one.  Owing to that huge frustration and psychological struggle back then, I finally grasped the significance of this word.  Only when you are not distracted can you think actively, opening the wellspring of perception and creativity.  Only in this way can you completely and resolutely take control of the entire process of clinical diagnosis and treatment.  When you are too distracted, diagnosis and treatment will be manipulated by those distractions.  No matter how good you are, if you cannot face your patients and his or her illness with a pure and calm heart, it will be difficult to perform well.  You might even make mistakes and harm not only your patients, but also yourself. 

“Waking up” after recalling the past with pangs in the heart

As the Chinese saying goes, “one cannot have both fish and bear’s paw,” (which means something like, “you cannot sell the cow and drink the milk”).   I cannot help but sigh at this rule of heaven.  You either help others, and enjoy the satisfaction and comfort that brings to your heart, or you can wander about aimlessly in the whirlpool of third-rate medical performance, pursuing your own immediate interests.  Do not complain about this to others; the choice is entirely in your own hands.  This rule seems cruel, but it is really entirely fair!  Thus, I have a deeper understanding of these four Chinese words, ren xin ren shu, “benevolent mind, benevolent skill.”
 
For those who choose “honesty,” the other two words, “cautious” and “diligent,” are meaningful.  The more you choose your own interests before these, the more you will be “cautious,” the more spirituality and understanding you will lose, until you fall to the lowest depths.  Similarly, the less you choose to be “honest,” however “diligent” you are, the further you will travel along the wrong road, and the question of whether you can return to the right path eventually becomes a large one. 

My “guide dog” continues to guide me forward

I feel very fortunate to have this “guide dog,” and even more so that my professional career often coincides with the words, “honor, cautious, diligent.”  When I was confused, it promptly pointed me in the right direction, so that I did not go along the wrong path, farther and farther.  Thank you, my friend, for this precious gift, which caused me to find this “treasure” in my heart, which sums up the true meaning of the “guide dog” —— “honest, cautious, diligent.”  They will ground my understanding of when to advance or retreat, to attack or defend, to move up or down, and what to take or leave on my journey of physical rehabilitation.  No wonder the Emperor Kangxi personally wrote these words, so that they became the motto of all government officials in the Qing Dynasty.  From the perspective of my personal experience, I believe that they are suitable not only for government officials, but also for scholars, and even ordinary people. 

On the future path of my life, with the guidance of the “honest, cautious, diligent” dictum, my “guide dog” will continue to lead me with clear vision.  Visual impairment is not so dreadful so as long as there is a beacon in your heart.