人生的某個階段,幾乎每個人都曾浮現過「該為健康做點什麼」的念頭。

我在剛進入職場時,經常提醒自己要運動,當時能做到的,就是到家附近的公園跑步。

年輕的我,不懂睡眠的概念,也不知道斷食才是養生的王道,只是被動接受環境灌輸的各種養生教條。

當我們意識到自己知識不足時,會本能地尋求專業建議。早期的人透過書籍學習,近年則依賴網路資訊,但多半只是道聽塗說,難辨真偽。

普遍而言,大眾的養生焦點仍停留在「運動」上;「少吃」的觀念,通常要到中年或身體出現變化時才被迫浮現。

我有幸因為接觸斷食而更換了觀看的視窗,重新回到那個唯一的標的物:身體。

運動是為了身體,少吃也是。這兩件事都重要,但都不及「給身體一段不被食物打擾的時間」更為關鍵。

正因為社會大環境缺乏這種理解,才需要開課去說明。身體不被食物打擾,不能只是口號或概念,而必須透過實際體驗;沒做就不會懂,沒深入就不會悟。

 

從字面上理解「斷食」與親身實踐「斷食」,是兩種截然不同的境界。那就像人生的過程:從初生的懵懂,到逐步學會與世界共處。

我在斷食營中成長,深知斷食教育不能紙上談兵,也不能像軍隊訓練般高喊口令、自己卻袖手旁觀,它需要一群願意以身作則的人。

我在斷食營授課,也在現場陪伴學員。每當看到有人臨時缺席,空出那一張椅子,我心裡總有一絲不捨,那張空椅,承載著一次可能改變命運的機會。

只要有一個人坐在那張椅子上,他就有機會領悟養生的精髓;那個人,也許是你關心的朋友或家人。

這些年來,我不斷見證每一張座椅所能產生的影響力。講授「為何人必須斷食」多年,我始終重視斷食講堂中那張椅子的意義,它象徵著學習的起點,也象徵著改變的契機。

十個人上課與三十個人上課的氣場不同;十人中有八人感動,與十人中只有兩人感動,氣場也全然不同。

 

只要一個人願意學習、願意改變,我就有自信能影響他。我所傳遞的經驗,能直接、有效的被「用心聆聽的人」接收。

正因為這份自信,我更加珍惜教室裡的每一張椅子。

這十多年來,我身體力行,對這些座椅的珍惜有增無減。懂得這份感受的人不多,但那份心意,從未退色。

心智成長十多年,經驗累積十多年,自信也鍛鍊十多年。如今,那些乏人問津的座椅依舊存在,但同時,那些因坐在座椅上而改變人生的故事,也不斷增加。

終究得回到現實:與身體的互動,是頻率的故事;人與人之間的契合與共鳴,也是頻率的交會。認識「身體之道」不只是上一堂課,而是一場持續的學習與練習。這樣的歷程,自然會篩去那些不願學習的人。

因此,我將每一張椅子都視為「首席座椅」。願意持續坐在上面的人,終將擁有不凡的體悟,即使需要時間,即使需要極大的耐心。

許多人被自己的大腦意識耽誤了幾十年,直到某一刻才領悟:坐在這張椅子上,本身就是一種覺醒。

而斷食,正是翻轉體質、重啟生命的唯一機會。

 

投入「身體之道」教育後,我觀察學生在研修斷食課程時的心態。由於這類學習在民間尚不普及,若沒有以開放的心態進入,就難以持續。

開放,是走進教室前的心態;空杯,是坐進教室後的態度。

懂了、會了,自然不需繼續學習,但問題是:真的懂了嗎?真的會了嗎?

我在每堂課都會提「身體處理食物就不處理廢物」,這是斷食送給我最強而有力的啟示。

這句話在課堂中延伸出無數重要的覺悟,而我眼前那張椅子,也因此愈顯珍貴。

因這句話而真正把斷食落實在生活中的人,會越來越多;來自身體的指引,不會在人群中消失;來自自然法則的啟示,也不會在人類世界中絕跡。

「首席座椅」不分年齡、性別、學歷,它屬於那些願意掌握契機的人。

當年,我確實把斷食視為改變人生的重要轉折。如今,我對「首席座椅」的期許更高:空著,勝過被沒有學習意願的人佔據。

因為這張椅子,屬於願意學習的人;它是用意願坐出來的椅子,是一張以空杯姿態坐出來的椅子。

 

(我們的餐桌上留著一張空椅,提醒我們要為陌生人保留一個位置,也提醒自己,永遠要在心中留有愛的空間。)

 

The Unvisited Seat of Honor

At some point in life, almost everyone has the thought: “I should do something for my health.”
When I first entered the workplace, I often reminded myself to exercise. The only thing I could manage then was jogging in the park near my home.

In my youth, I knew nothing about the importance of sleep, nor did I realize that fasting is the true essence of health cultivation. I simply followed whatever health doctrines the environment fed me.

When we realize our knowledge is insufficient, we instinctively seek professional advice. In the past, people turned to books; today, they rely on the internet—though most of what they find is hearsay, difficult to verify.

Generally, the public’s focus on wellness still revolves around exercise. The idea of eating less usually doesn’t surface until middle age, or until the body begins to show signs of decline.

I was fortunate to have encountered fasting—it changed the window through which I viewed health, bringing me back to the only true subject that matters: the body itself.
Exercise is for the body, and so is eating less. Both are important, yet neither is as crucial as giving the body a stretch of time free from the disturbance of food.

It is precisely because society lacks this understanding that classes on fasting are necessary.
Letting the body rest from food cannot remain a slogan or a concept—it must be lived, practiced, and felt. Without doing, one cannot understand; without depth, one cannot awaken.

To understand fasting in words and to experience fasting in reality are two entirely different realms—just as living life differs from merely existing. We begin naïve, and gradually learn to coexist with the world.

I grew up within fasting camps. I learned that fasting education cannot remain theoretical, nor can it be led like military drills shouted from afar—it requires a group of people willing to lead by example.

When I teach at fasting retreats, I also stay with the participants. Each time someone cancels last-minute and an empty chair appears, I feel a quiet ache inside. That vacant chair carries a chance—perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—to change someone’s destiny.

If even one person sits in that chair, they have the chance to grasp the true essence of health. That person might be your friend, your parent, or someone you deeply care about.

Over the years, I have witnessed the quiet power of each chair. After teaching “Why humans must fast” for many years, I have come to cherish what that seat represents—it marks the beginning of learning, and the moment of transformation.

Ten people in a class create one kind of energy; thirty people create another. When eight out of ten are moved, the energy differs entirely from when only two are.

As long as there is one person willing to learn, willing to change, I am confident I can reach them. My message can be received directly, clearly, by those who listen with their heart.

It is precisely because of this confidence that I treasure every single chair in the classroom.

For more than a decade, my dedication has only deepened. Few truly understand this feeling, yet my respect for it has never faded.
My mind has matured over these years, my experience accumulated, and my confidence tempered.

Today, those once “unvisited seats” still exist—but alongside them are countless stories of lives transformed simply because someone chose to sit down.

In the end, it all returns to one truth: the interaction with one’s body is a matter of frequency. The resonance between people is also a matter of frequency.
To know The Way of the Body is not to attend a single class—it is an ongoing journey of learning and practice. Naturally, this process filters out those who are not yet ready to learn.

Thus, I regard every chair as a Seat of Honor.
Those who continue to sit on it will, in time, arrive at profound realization—even if it takes patience, even if it takes years.

Many have been delayed by the chatter of their own minds for decades, until one day they finally awaken: to sit on this chair is, in itself, an act of awakening.

Fasting, then, is not merely a practice—it is the one true opportunity to reset one’s body and restart one’s life.

After devoting myself to The Way of the Body, I began observing how students approach fasting courses. Because this kind of learning remains unfamiliar to the general public, few can persist without an open mind.

Openness is the attitude one brings when entering the classroom;
emptiness—the empty cup—is the mindset one must hold once seated.

Once you truly understand, you no longer need to study—but the question remains: Do you truly understand? Have you truly learned?

In every class, I remind students: “When the body is processing food, it cannot process waste.”
This is the most powerful revelation fasting has ever given me.

That single sentence has unfolded into countless awakenings in my students—and it has made the chair before me ever more precious.

Those who internalize that truth and bring fasting into their daily lives grow steadily in number. The guidance that arises from the body will never disappear among the crowd, nor will the wisdom of natural law ever vanish from the human world.

The Seat of Honor knows no age, gender, or education—it belongs to anyone who is willing to seize the moment.

Years ago, I saw fasting as a turning point in my life.
Now, I hold an even deeper conviction: an empty chair is far better than one occupied by someone unwilling to learn.

Because that chair belongs to those who choose to learn.
It is a chair shaped by willingness,
and one that can only be truly occupied by an empty cup heart.