Leaving Space in Life: Learning to Be Alone with Yourself
When we first begin spiritual practice, the most common questions are:
“Why can’t I quiet my mind?”
“Why can’t I feel any energy?”
This is because we haven’t spent enough time truly bringing our attention back to ourselves. While each of us experiences spiritual cultivation differently due to the workings of the discriminating mind (分别心), if we return to the state before this mind arises, then all of us are capable of perceiving energy.
Of course, eventually we must also let go of energy itself, as it is merely a vessel through which thoughts arise. By slowing down life and learning to be alone with ourselves, we begin to see another side of life—and gradually, our true selves come into view. Step by step, we realize the structure of life is astonishingly simple. So simple, in fact, that all enlightened beings and all sacred texts are actually saying the same thing—they are merely using different languages and expressions to reveal the same truth of life.
In the end, there are really only two things we need to do:
What does true solitude look like? What counts as high-quality solitude?
First, we stop—with no expectations.
At the beginning, we are all the same:
We don’t know what to look for, what to seek, or where to focus.
The mind, by its nature, keeps whispering,
“You need to discover something.”
“You must grasp something for it to be correct.”Then we notice—our thoughts are overwhelming.
The mind just won’t stop.
But the truth is:
The mind has never stopped.
It’s just that we’ve never noticed this before.
We weren’t aware of how restless it really was.
We didn’t realize anything was wrong.
So at this stage, we only need to do one simple (yet most difficult) thing:
Whenever the mind drifts away, bring your attention back—
To the breath, or to a part of the body.
Then the mind runs off again.
So we bring it back.
Again and again.
We are like a shepherd tending sheep.
Each time the sheep strays, we gently guide it back to the flock.
In this process, we don’t judge, don’t analyze.
If we start analyzing, we follow the mind's stories.
And once we follow those stories, emotions will arise—this is inevitable.
That’s why, after some time in practice, many people feel their emotions become stronger.
Sometimes new emotions even appear, ones they’ve never had before.
They might ask,
“Why do I suddenly have these strange thoughts?”
“I wasn’t like this before. What’s wrong with me?”
The truth is:
It’s not that these emotions appeared because you sat still.
It’s that sitting still finally revealed them.
All those thoughts were already there—
But they used to flash by too quickly to notice.
No thought arises without a cause.
Every unfolding story is the entanglement of energies.
This entanglement is not limited to this lifetime.
It runs deeper than we can comprehend—
Coming from all directions, across different times and spaces.
That’s why sometimes, when we meet someone for the first time,
We may feel instant joy, or inexplicable aversion.
If we lack awareness and simply follow these thoughts,
Emotions will flood in.
Our inner state will fluctuate,
And we’ll fall into endless analysis, judgment, seeking answers.
But within the story, there are no answers.
There is no right or wrong.
Because within the cycle of love and hurt, we are all caught in endless samsara.
What we give out will return like a boomerang.
What we receive will eventually depart.
This is the only way the story can unfold.
Without conflict, the "script" would be dull,
And the "self" who wrote the story would lose interest in playing the game.
Hence the saying:
“Play the game of life.”
But we must understand:
There are no ultimate answers in the story.
Any so-called “answer” is merely a fragment taken out of context.
In my conversations with students, I noticed something interesting:
Almost everyone is spinning inside their stories.
They ask:
“Why do I suddenly have these thoughts?”
“I never used to think like this.”
At the same time, they fear that spiritual practice will strip them of emotions and desires, leaving them cold and detached.
They feel conflicted.
They understand the teachings—but their hearts still tightly cling to the stories.
If we never leave the world of stories,
If we never detach from appearances,
Then we’ll continue living in inner conflict.
We’ll feel tortured by our emotions,
While still hoping to somehow elevate our soul.
But such hope becomes an illusion—
We’ll only be fulfilling desires inside the story,
Creating a false sense of superiority.
This has nothing to do with true spiritual growth.
To perceive the truth of life,
We must return to the point before the story unfolds—
Before the arising of thought and desire.Only when we see clearly,
When we truly understand,
Can awareness increase,
And the heart return to its original freedom.
Those emotions, those joys and sorrows you cherish so much—
They never truly leave.
Once you have a thought, they return.
But if you no longer want them,
You simply stop.
That’s what it means to truly live—
To live fully, not dragged by emotions,
Not analyzing or constantly choosing.
Instead, you see through it all.
You see it all clearly.
Then, you’re free to play however you wish.Otherwise, why do we call it “reversing destiny” (逆天改命)?
Because all this time, we’ve been living in an inverted dream,
Thinking we were truly alive.
So we must go against our habitual patterns—
Pause.
Then discover.
Once your perspective widens,
You’ll realize how narrow and reactive your past life was.
You’re not losing anything.
On the contrary—
You’ll see you’ve always had everything.
Nothing was ever lost.
So yes, we need more solitude in life.
We need to pause.
Not just pause, but find ways to notice what’s off in this game.
This is what a wise life looks like.
Wisdom does not come from others' mouths,
Nor from discussion.More often than not,
It comes from stillness, from discovering within.
Because deep down,
We already know.
Each of us came into this world in a certain way—
So we must also remember the way back.
The only question is:
Can you become aware of it?