有缘人

now we're having chinese characters? seems like things are about to get philosophical.

but in fact it's been philosophical ever since I set greek characters as the covers for my highlights on instagram.

and french for âme in âmethyst.

yeah. let's talk about fate today.

有缘人

(yǒuyuán rén)

in sino-vietnamese, this means "hữu duyên nhân", or "người hữu duyên", or "người có duyên" in vietnamese. in english, it's generally understood as "person with fate". so what does it mean to have 缘, duyên, or fate? I find this concept very interesting.

I've been adulting step by step while going to college overseas. I spend more time alone doing exciting adult tasks such as paperworks and going to classes. whenever there's an invitation to meet relatives or stuff, I mostly turn them down. I don't understand why, but I just don't feel like that. looking back at it now, I think I know why: it's just that people wasn't my priority. my priority was probably work, or time lone looking for places to travel and live in the future. I was just not at peace with myself, and that prompts me to look elsewhere for peace. it's been a wild goose chase.

but after traveling many places and doing the same thing over and over: getting there, taking photos, checking every places off my list, I feel empty. there's only so much to take photos of, and while curating my photos I feel like they lack something so integral in it: the people. where are the people?

they're there, but I keep pushing them away from me because I was preoccupied with ideals about the perfect life that doesn't really exist.

looking at it all at quantum level, I realize that things are fundamentally the same. everything is made of the same matter. human, non-human. organic, non-organic. alive, dead. all things are made of quarks and stuff. the first law of thermodynamics and also law of conservation of matter build upon the same idea: things are neither created nor destroyed, they're just reorganised. time exists as a relative measure to see how long things can stay the same before switching to another state on a macro level (or, simply put, die). in this analysis, france is not very different from vietnam or the united states. they all look up at the same sky and breathe the same air. this explains why the buddhist theory of "emptiness is form" (sắc tức thị không), is not only philosophically but scientifically true.

so this mean I can stop being so specific about my happiness, bearing the hassles of tying it to specific times, places, people, things, ways, and reasons. it doesn't really matter, because everything is fundamentally the same. it's easier to be happy if you think it is possible anywhere, anytime, with anyone, anything, and anyway.

there're times that I hear about social events that happened and felt bad for not having joined it. at this point, it is not really about being busy or looking at it in a pragmatic way (forming new linkedin connections or gaining a few instagram followers), but it is just simply about being present and making memories with people at that time. a meaningful life doesn't have to be fighiting for opportunities or enriching an egoistic sense of self, but it can be as simple as sharing and holding hands on this journey together.

from all the things I've missed, I realize the first step to be a 有缘人 is to allow yourself to be one.

say yes to invitations, try your best, and life will take care of the iself. it is not that hard, darling.

now that we've understood what it means to be a person with fate, I'd love to end this post with a little poem from Trần Nhân Tông, the third emperor of the Trần dynasty. he's also a Buddhist monk, that's why he's often called Phật hoàng (Buddhist emperor) Trần Nhân Tông. after successfully leading Đại Việt (now Việt Nam) against the Mongol invasions passing the throne to his son, he spent the majority of his life seeking spiritual awakening. in this time, he established a monastery, established the Trúc Lâm sect (the only indigenous Buddhist sect in Vietnam), received many disciples, and wrote many good poems in the process. this poem is the last section of his 160 verses long poem called 居 塵 樂 道 賦 (SV: cư trần lạc đạo, V: ở đời vui đạo, E: live a happy life with the path).

chinese

居 塵 樂 道 賦 (偈云)

居塵樂道且隨緣，

饑則飧兮困則眠。

家中有宝休尋覓，

對境無心莫問禪。

sino-vietnamese

cư trần lạc đạo (kệ vân)

cư trần lạc đạo thả tùy duyên,
cơ tắc xan hề, khốn tắc miên.
gia trung hữu bảo hưu tầm mịch,
đối cảnh vô tâm mạc vấn Thiền.

vietnamese

sống đời vui đạo (kệ rằng)

sống đời vui đạo, hãy tuỳ duyên,
hễ đói thì ăn, mệt ngủ liền.
trong nhà có báu thôi tìm kiếm,

đối cảnh vô tâm chớ hỏi Thiền. 

english

live a happy life with the path (verse)

to live a happy life with the path, flow with the fate,

eat when you are hungry, and sleep when you are tired.

the treasure is within your home; stop the search

mindless of the situation, let alone asking about Zen.

this poem is not available in english so I translated it by myself. I find the last sentence particularly challenging so I'm more than happy if anyone can come up with a better translation. the poem itself is pretty easy to understand, but some parts need clarification for this wide array of readers.

in the first verse, sometimes tuỳ duyên, or flow with the fate (somewhat wu wei), can be misunderstood as having no freewill over one's life and just let life happen to you without doing anything. this doesn't have to be the case. Thầy Minh Niệm, one of the disciples of Thích Nhất Hạnh, explained 隨緣 (tuỳ duyên) as: letting the past duyên (bounds with people) go, not seeking future duyên, and enjoying the duyên that we are having in the present moment. 

the second verse highlights the self-awareness that one haves within oneself. this is the energy of tuệ giác (wisdom of the senses) and it is powerful. in a increasingly distracting world, it is harder to master this art: we go through life mindlessly and mechanically: we look at our devices, even when eating. I love this verse as a call to listen to our body and giving it the rest it deeply needs.

the third verse is generally understood as "looking inwards". it's important to note that home doesn't only mean the physical home but also the metaphysical one: home within oneself. this links to François Rabelais' concept of a Great Perhaps in his last words: I go to seek a Great Perhaps.

the last verse... I don't really get it. however, I think it's a reminder that Zen and meditation doesn't have to be complicated: don't even talk (verbatim: ask) about meditation if you are mindless of the situation around you. Zen and meditation, like seeds, start with the smallest actions, such as being aware of your surroundings (as mentioned in this verse) and yourself (as mentioned in the second verse).

I hope I come back to these verses often enough to remind myself that being a 有缘人 simply means being aware of ourself and our surroundings. happiness is anywhere, anytime, with anyone, anything, and anyway.