將自己的健康寄託在抽屜裡的藥物，不論你是否就是這樣的人，這種現象在當代社會早已司空見慣。

我時常思索，這樣的人生處境，當事人是如何解讀的？是否仍懷抱希望？未必，更可能的，是一種暫時保命的妥協與無奈。

當藥物被替換成營養補充品，又是另一種主流場景。補了，就安心了；吃了，就安心了。身體被迫接受市場定義的「健康需求」，無異於另一種依附。

資訊來源也許來自醫師、廣告，或朋友的推薦，於是我們便在不自覺間，將他人的說詞轉化為自己的日常生活，從未有過獨立思辨的養成。

益生菌時代來臨，市場運作的邏輯並未改變，只是商品換了包裝，從無生命的轉為有生命的，從「飯後服用」變成「空腹攝取」。

但當我走進斷食的世界，我開始體悟到一種超越依附的生命線索，那是一種孤獨的覺醒，也是一段自主的修行。

 

健康，從來都是愛自己的考題，上蒼從未刻意出題，是我們自己太常偏離正軌。

這並非我們本意，而是來自環境的引導，而環境，正是由人類的意志所編織，環境讓我們誤解了愛，也讓我們遠離了健康。

嫁入豪門的一位女性，一度成為眾人稱羨的對象。她是朋友圈口中的幸運天使，不愁花用，生活富足，還有僕人照料。

直到某天她與丈夫離婚，故事翻了篇。親友們關心的，不是她是否悲傷，而是她能分到多少資產。

那份曾經的愛，還在嗎？還是，他們只是以更成熟的方式，告別了彼此？

又或許，他們從一開始就誤解了愛，從親友的慫恿走入關係，最終由法官來做快樂的裁決。

還有一夕之間被撤換的企業執行長，曾經高薪聘任、權勢滔天，從謙和之人變成讓員工敬畏的強勢領導，曇花一現的氣勢最終成為員工津津樂道的話題。

名片上的頭銜，是無數人願意依附的光環，但頭銜與公司可能在一夜間煙消雲散。

這與將愛情寄託在一位承諾「永遠保護你」的人身上，有何不同？那不是愛，也沒有價值。

 

再回到那些瓶瓶罐罐，回到你習以為常的依附：一份穩定的工作、一位愛你的人、一個總是在你身邊照顧你的人。

但你呢？你在哪裡？你是誰？你何時會開始問自己這些問題？是退休的時候？被資遣的時候？還是某天驚覺，對方早已不再愛你，而你也從來沒有真正愛過他？

醫療的進步讓人們無暇認識自己，這是我從身體得到的啟示。結果呢？願意聽懂的人不多，試圖反駁的倒是常有。

當我們將健康寄託於醫療，我們便開始失去健康，失去與自己的連結。錯不在醫療，而在我們不認識自己、不愛自己。

愛，從來都無關對方。你愛的人不是問題的核心，問題在於你怎麼定義愛，健康亦是如此，在於你如何接納你身體的愛。

愛是付出，是包容，是無所企圖，也不存在交換條件。有目的、有雜質、有條件的愛，不是真愛。

 

你不能將愛依附在對方的收入與魅力之上，就像你不能將健康寄託在某種產品或藥物上。

愛與健康，在本質上都必須奠基於獨立自主的狀態。當你對愛有了本質性的覺察，你就必須將這份領悟回歸到自己身上。

健康，是你對自己的愛。不健康，是你不夠愛自己。

當愛變得模糊，自己也變得飄渺。好比那目中無人的富人，名片上滿滿的頭銜，工作到退休卻從未真正快樂。

我們看到一個什麼都有的人卻不快樂，看見家財萬貫的人罹患重病，感嘆命運的捉弄，卻不明白，生命的價值從不在金銀財寶，也不在世俗眼光裡的成功或光環。

 

愛不是依附，健康也不是，生命都在擺脫依附之後顯現其價值。

我這一生最重大的覺悟來自身體送來超脫的自由自在，那是沒有食物干擾身體的很多天後，某一刻的頓悟。

 

（愛與你期望得到什麼無關，愛只關乎你願意付出什麼—而那，是真心傾盡一切。）

 

Love Is Not Attachment (Part I)

Entrusting one’s health to a drawer full of medications—whether or not this describes you—has already become a common phenomenon in today’s world.
I often wonder how people in such circumstances interpret their own lives. Do they still hold onto hope? Unlikely. More often, it is a compromise for survival, a quiet resignation cloaked in helplessness.

When medications are replaced by nutritional supplements, it becomes just another version of the same mainstream narrative. Take them, and you feel secure. Consume them, and you’re reassured.
Our bodies are forced to comply with health demands defined by the marketplace—another form of dependence.
Whether the source of advice is a doctor, an advertisement, or a well-meaning friend, we often unthinkingly translate external suggestions into daily habits, never pausing to develop independent discernment.

Now that we’ve entered the age of probiotics, the logic of the market remains unchanged. Only the packaging has evolved. The products have gone from inanimate to “living,” from being taken after meals to being taken on an empty stomach.
But when I stepped into the world of fasting, I began to grasp a deeper thread of life that transcends dependence—an awakening rooted in solitude, and a path of self-sovereignty.

Health has always been a question of self-love. The Divine never intended it to be a test; it is we who constantly derail from the path.
This derailment is not intentional—it’s a product of the environment, which itself is shaped by human will. It is the environment that has distorted our understanding of love, and distanced us from health.

There was a woman once envied for marrying into wealth, hailed as the “lucky angel” among friends. Financially carefree, with a lavish lifestyle and household help, she seemed to have it all.
But the story took a turn when she divorced her husband. Friends and relatives showed concern—not for her sorrow, but for how much money or property she managed to walk away with.
Was there still love between them? Or had they simply parted with greater maturity?
Perhaps they had misunderstood love from the start—pressured into a relationship by friends and relatives, only to have their fate decided by the hands of a judge.

Then there’s the CEO who was ousted overnight. Once highly paid and powerful, he transformed from a humble individual into a feared leader.
His dominance, though brief, became the stuff of office legend. The title on his business card had once symbolized the values many clung to—but both the title and the company could vanish in a single night.
How is this any different from placing your love in the hands of someone who promises to protect you forever? That’s not love, and it holds no true value.

Let’s return to the bottles and jars—to the attachments we’ve normalized: a stable job, a partner who loves you, someone who is always there to take care of you.
But what about you? Where are you in all this? Who are you?
When will you start asking yourself these questions? At retirement? When you’re laid off? When you realize the person you love no longer loves you—or perhaps that you never truly loved them in return?

The advancement of modern medicine has left little room for self-discovery. This is the insight my body revealed to me.
And yet, few are willing to hear it, while many are quick to argue against it.
When we entrust our health entirely to the medical system, we begin to lose not only our health but also our connection to ourselves.
The problem doesn’t lie with medicine—it lies in our failure to know ourselves, in our inability to love ourselves.

Love has never been about the other person. The person you love is not the issue—the issue lies in how you define love.
The same applies to health: it depends on how you accept the love your body is offering you.
Love is giving. Love is embracing. Love has no ulterior motives, and expects no transaction.
A love that has purpose, impurities, or conditions cannot be true love.

You cannot base your love on someone’s income or charm, just as you cannot base your health on pills or supplements.
At their core, both love and health require a foundation of independence.
Once you’ve awakened to the essence of love, you must bring that realization back to yourself.
Health is your love for yourself. Ill health is the undeniable evidence that you do not love yourself enough.

When love becomes vague, the self also fades.
Like the wealthy person who sees no one but themselves, the executive with a stack of titles but no joy, the worker who retires only to realize they were never truly happy.
We see people who have everything yet are not happy. We see millionaires struck with serious illness, and we sigh at how fate plays tricks.
But what we fail to realize is this: the value of life has never resided in wealth or prestige, nor in the worldly markers of success and admiration.

Love is not attachment. Neither is health.
Life reveals its true value only after we’ve unshackled ourselves from dependency.

The most profound awakening in my life came from a state of complete physical freedom—after many days without food, when my body was no longer disrupted by external inputs.
It was in that silence that a moment of true clarity arrived.