固執，是人類自以為是的一場遊戲。這場遊戲，我們玩得過了頭，也玩得太過火。

表面上，固執是堅持己見；但更深層的本質，其實是抗拒改變。而抗拒改變，往往又藏著一層更難啟齒的真相：拒絕承認錯誤。

我曾沉溺其中，在固執的偽裝下，挖掘出自己的傲慢。光是這一項，就足以揭露不成熟與不懂愛自己的內裝。

直到生命某個轉彎處，我才願意承認錯誤，在那之前，我已經對自己的身體深深致歉。

我感謝那場迫切而關鍵的覺醒，感謝那位前輩的提議，讓我在生命的十字路口，進行了一次七日斷食。

自此之後，我從未在一天內進食三餐，身體給了我訊號，我也終於「將心比心」的與它相處。

 

我變了。從那之後，與身體的每一次互動都成了我工作的一部分，我主動記錄身體的回應，也同步觀察學員的生命處境。

我們不只需要逆轉對身體的傷害，更要償還所有過往的債：消化債、睡眠債，甚至免疫債。

我在深度斷食中體會到：任何時刻，都是償還的起點；而真正的償還行動，便是「斷食」。

那是一種生命力的再發酵，也是身體教育的真正起點，與其解釋酵素斷食並非商業行銷，不如深耕身體意識的根本教育。

我常自問：若不是踏入這條身體之道，今天的我，也許早已成為病體，甚至無法成為「活體」。

身體覺醒，生命翻轉，我感謝那場命運的安排。因為選擇改變，我在年齡增長之際，卻體現了身體愈發年輕的證明。

 

在推廣斷食養生的路上，我多次遭遇誤解，尤其來自學員的家屬，這些經驗卻讓我對癌症產生了更深的洞察。

常覺得，那些誤解與攻擊，其實是來自上蒼的情緒測試。奇妙的是，那些曾攻擊我的人，身邊都出現癌症的案例。

我由此深悟：癌症患者的身邊，經常伴隨著創造壓力與痛苦的關係人。

我改變了，變得不再驚慌，也不再恐懼，因為我看懂了疾病的真相，因為我從情緒勒索中學會看懂身體的訊號。

那是一種即將爆裂的痛苦感，是身體逼我面對的極限，只有真正釋放它，才能打開對生命法則的更深領悟。

這是一場對「對價」與「對立」的覺知練習，我因此重新定義了「愛」。原來，是身體教會我如何愛自己。

「不愛自己，怎麼愛別人？」這句話不是我發明的，但在體會真愛之後，這句話變得無比清晰。其中，蘊藏著我對過去的無限懺悔。

 

當我對照自己曾經的模樣，與眼前無數堅持己見的身影，我總會莞爾，那樣的語氣我太熟悉，那樣的身段我太明白，那樣的頑固真讓人啼笑皆非。

這條路，我走了將近二十年。我的經驗可以為他人省下許多時間與金錢的浪費，但那道高牆仍橫亙不去，尤其在男性身上，特別堅固，他們堅信自己不需要改變。

我不會說「不懂斷食的人不懂愛自己」，但我願意這樣定義真愛：當你願意對身體表達關愛與體諒，你的生命格局，將會從此翻轉。

靠近身體，就靠近自己；理解身體，也才能真正理解自己。

正如那位美國作家所說：「人們總是長途跋涉，只為尋找近在咫尺的東西。」阻礙我們看見真相的，不只是無知，而且是固執。

 

我一直對那些願意改變的女性心懷敬意，這句話之所以成立，是因為我見過太多她們身後那位堅決不肯鬆動的男性。

我記錄這一切，不是為了製造對立，而是因為內心的聲音始終誠懇提問：「真的有這麼難嗎？」

領悟，其實不需要太多證據；只要願意經歷，就能看見。只要願意深入，就能覺悟。

願意改變，是一種偉大。

當這些女性輕鬆談論她們背後的那道高牆時，我彷彿從她們的故事中，看見了歷史朝代的興衰；也看見大自然對人性的傲慢發動的反撲。

我只能說：就這樣吧，這本就是個人的修行。

若不是當初走上斷食這條路，今天的我，或許也還是那副德性。

所以，讓我鄭重的對從前那個自己說句話：「如此這般固執，真的，情何以堪？」

 

（固執與愚蠢是一對雙胞胎）

 

So Stubborn—How Can One Bear It?

Stubbornness is a game played by the self-righteousness of humankind. And in this game, we’ve gone too far, pushed it too hard.
On the surface, stubbornness appears to be a form of conviction—but its deeper nature is resistance to change. And hidden beneath that resistance lies an even harder truth to admit: the refusal to acknowledge one’s mistakes.

I was once lost in that game. Beneath the guise of stubbornness, I unearthed my arrogance—and that alone revealed the immaturity and lack of self-love residing within me.
It wasn’t until a pivotal turning point in life that I found the courage to admit I was wrong. Even before that, I had already offered a deep apology to my body.

I am profoundly grateful for that urgent and transformative awakening—grateful to the elder whose suggestion led me to a seven-day fast at a crossroads in my life.
Since that moment, I have never again eaten three meals a day. My body gave me signals, and I finally began to treat it with empathy and understanding.

I changed. From then on, every interaction with my body became part of my work. I started documenting its responses and, at the same time, observed the life patterns of my students.
It’s not just about reversing the harm we’ve done to our bodies—we must also repay all the debts we owe: digestive debts, sleep debts, even immune system debts.

Through deep fasting, I realized: any moment can be a starting point for repayment. And the most fundamental act of repayment is fasting.
It’s a re-fermentation of vitality—a true beginning of body education. Rather than explaining that enzyme fasting is not a marketing gimmick, I prefer to cultivate the foundational awareness of the body.

I often ask myself: If I hadn’t stepped onto this path of bodily awakening, would I have already become chronically ill—or even ceased to be fully alive?
Through bodily awakening, life turned around. I am grateful for the fate that led me here. Because I chose to change, I now witness a body growing younger with age.

On this journey of promoting fasting and health, I have encountered many misunderstandings—especially from the families of my students.
But those very experiences have deepened my insight into cancer.
I’ve come to believe that such misunderstandings and criticisms are emotional tests sent by the universe. Strangely, those who once attacked me later found cancer emerging around them.

And so I came to understand: cancer patients are often surrounded by people who create pressure and pain.
I changed. I no longer panic, no longer fear—because I see through the nature of illness. I’ve learned to read the body’s signals by recognizing emotional manipulation.
It’s a kind of pain on the brink of rupture, a boundary the body forces us to face. Only by releasing it can we truly open ourselves to the deeper laws of life.

This is a practice of awareness—of “exchange” and “opposition.” Through it, I redefined what love means.
It was my body that taught me how to love myself.
“How can you love others if you don’t love yourself?” I didn’t coin that phrase, but after tasting true love, its meaning became crystal clear—carrying with it my infinite remorse for the past.

When I look back on who I used to be, and compare that to the many people still clinging to their opinions, I can’t help but smile.
I know that tone too well, that posture too clearly, that stubbornness too intimately—it’s both laughable and heart-wrenching.

I’ve walked this path for nearly twenty years.
My experience could save others much time and money. Yet that high wall still stands—especially for men, whose resistance to change seems carved in stone.
I don’t say that “those who don’t understand fasting don’t understand self-love.” But I do offer this definition of true love:
When you’re willing to show care and compassion toward your body, your entire life trajectory begins to shift.

To come close to your body is to come close to yourself.
To understand your body is the only way to truly understand yourself.

As that American writer once said:
“People travel far and wide, only to search for what lies right within reach.”
What blinds us to truth is not only ignorance—it’s stubbornness.

I have always held deep respect for women who are willing to change.
That respect is justified because I’ve seen too many of them shadowed by men who refuse to yield.

I record all of this not to provoke conflict, but because a sincere voice within me keeps asking:
“Is it really that difficult?”

Realization doesn’t require overwhelming proof.
It only asks that we go through it. That we go deep. That we surrender.

The willingness to change is, in itself, a form of greatness.

When I listen to women speak lightly of the immovable wall behind them, I feel as if I am witnessing the rise and fall of dynasties through their stories—and nature’s retaliation against the arrogance of humankind.

And all I can say is this: so be it. This path has always been a personal spiritual practice.
If I hadn’t chosen fasting back then, I might still be the same person I once was.

So allow me to solemnly say this to my former self:

“So stubborn—how could you possibly bear it?”