兩年多前開始獨居，是我人生第一次真正與自己長時間共處。

屋子裡永遠只有我一人，剛搬離熟悉的生活圈，我為自己重新找了一條可以每日行走的步道。

那條步道很特別，一側是車水馬龍的快速道路，另一側則是一整排豪宅。每次走過，我總忍不住多看幾眼那些氣派的住家環境。

在台北擁有一棟房子，對許多人而言是夢想；對某些人而言則是理所當然。

我從未奢望住進豪宅，我更奢望的是：讓我的靈性住在豪宅裡。

有好幾次，我看到救護車停在那些豪宅前。我走的這條步道，也是許多看護推著長者出來散步的路線。他們住在豪宅裡，卻有著極度貧窮的身體。

在一次又一次平靜而安定的步行裡，我與自己對話。我真心問自己：「我喜歡現在的自己，還是那個擁有豪宅卻失去健康的自己？」

我的人生，正以感恩與珍惜為底色向前。感恩生命為我安排的一切，珍惜生命所賜予的福分。當我嘗試重新定義「健康」的同時，也逐漸看見人類生病的軌跡。

 

在每日書寫、記錄體悟的過程中，「養生的藍圖」在我心中不斷重整，那是一種隨著生命厚度逐層堆疊的進階。

這樣的信念不易形容，我知道「真實做自己」是我的狀態，也知道每天讓思緒穿越時空，是我與靈性對話的方式。

我替自己設計了「記錄並推廣養生體悟」的工作，期許自己的領悟有人能承接，期許我交付給身體的「正念工程」能被傳承。

善念可以是養生藍圖的一部分，但正念是更高的階段。

早期我帶著善念投入養生教育；後期在與身體深度相處的經驗裡，我領悟了正念的真義。

人們常說：「好人不長命。」因為善良不保證健康，善良是對待他人，正直則是對待自己。

我領悟養生的精髓，是在與負面情緒一次次糾纏之後。負面情緒的存在，代表我們尚未堅強，也意味著還有成長的空間。

這需要時間的淬鍊，也必須在符合自身價值觀的方向中不斷精進。

 

在物化的世界裡，人們把慾望投入聚寶盆，任其擴散。我曾經也是那個世界的一員，一個距離「正念」很遠的角色。

環境的力量極其殘酷，稍一不慎，就會被捲入物慾的漩渦；稍一鬆懈，就會被負面情緒拖入疾病的深淵。

我沒有刻意逃離那個世界，而是被一股無形的力量帶往另一個時空。那股力量來自我自己的墮落，也包含我獲得的福報。

必須經歷，才能成熟；必須失去，才能獲得。有時我真切地感覺，人生的劇本早已寫好。

我必須從緊繃中學會鬆弛，也必須在情緒勒索的輪迴中，找到正念的出路。

正念必須夠大，才能抵銷不斷滋生的負念。但它不是「想」出來的，也不是「逼」出來的，而是「做」出來的。

至於該怎麼做，或許正是我的罩門。我不是輔導正念的專家，所有關於正念的體悟，都源自生活與工作的機緣轉化。

 

我之所以獨居，是因喪偶。經歷過一段無法避免的悲傷期後，我反覆思索妻子在何種思緒中選擇離開。

終於，我從她的離去中看見了「成全」的意義。

她的犧牲，是她自己的成全。而我，也在那場浩大的失去中，找到最豐盛的獲得。

孤獨的另一面是專注，我終於能在與自己深度相處的過程裡，完成生命最大的「斷捨離」。

我對正念的理解，奠基於深度斷食、禪定與重視睡眠的生活基礎。這些習慣讓身體的感官變得敏銳，產生奇特的覺知。

每當負面情緒升起，我總能追蹤到負面思考的源頭，同時感受到身體深層釋放的不安與疼痛。

這種覺察力，隨日子不斷增長。

這也是一種「應變」，原本就屬於身體的本能。當我們逐漸失去與身體的連結，

便失去了理解它的能力。

身體發出的每一個訊號，都是為了規避病痛而存在的警告。而在斷食的日常中，我逐漸明白：遠離病痛是一種信念，拒絕生病，是一種正念。

 

（宇宙中只有一個角落，你能確定可以改善——那就是你自己。）

 

Mindfulness Is More Than Kindness

More than two years ago, I began living alone — my first real experience of spending an extended period in solitude.
The house was always silent, occupied only by me. After moving away from the area I’d long called home, I found a walking path I could take every day.

That path was peculiar: on one side, a bustling expressway; on the other, a long row of luxury homes. Each time I passed by, I couldn’t help but glance at those impressive residences.
Owning a house in Taipei is a dream for many, yet a given for some.
I have never longed to live in a mansion — what I long for instead is for my spirit to live in one.

More than once, I saw ambulances parked in front of those luxurious gates.
The same path I walked was often used by caregivers pushing elderly residents in wheelchairs. They lived in mansions, but their bodies were impoverished.

During my calm, steady walks, I often spoke with myself:
“Do I prefer the self I am now, or the one who might live in a mansion but has lost health?”

My life now moves forward, painted in gratitude and appreciation — grateful for everything life has arranged, cherishing every blessing life has given.
As I try to redefine what “health” means, I also begin to trace the trajectory of human illness.
—

In the process of daily writing and reflection, the blueprint of well-being within me keeps evolving — layer by layer, as life itself deepens.
This belief is hard to describe. I know that being truly authentic is my natural state, and that letting my thoughts travel through time and space is how I commune with my spirit.

I have designed for myself a lifelong work — to record and share my insights on health and self-cultivation — hoping that my realizations can be carried on, that the “mindfulness project” I entrust to my body may one day be inherited.

Kindness can be part of the health blueprint, but mindfulness is the higher stage.
In the early years, I entered health education with goodwill; in later years, through deep engagement with my body, I came to understand the true essence of mindfulness.

People often say, “Good people don’t live long.”
Kindness doesn’t guarantee health. Kindness concerns how we treat others; integrity concerns how we treat ourselves.

I grasped the essence of well-being only after wrestling repeatedly with negative emotions. Their presence meant I was not yet strong — but also that there was still room to grow.
Such growth takes time, and it requires continual refinement in alignment with one’s own values.
—

In a materialized world, people pour their desires into a bottomless cauldron and let them multiply. I was once a citizen of that world — a character far removed from mindfulness.
The power of environment is ruthless: a moment of inattention drags one into the whirlpool of material craving; a brief lapse in awareness pulls one into the abyss of emotional illness.

I did not deliberately escape that world; rather, an unseen force led me to another realm. That force was born from both my own downfall and my accumulated blessings.
One must experience to mature; one must lose to gain.
At times, I truly feel that the script of life was written long ago.

I had to learn relaxation from tension, and discover mindfulness in the recurring cycles of emotional blackmail.
Mindfulness must be vast enough to neutralize the endless surge of negativity. Yet it is not thought into being, nor forced into form — it is lived into existence.

As for how to live it — that may be my lifelong lesson.
I am no expert in teaching mindfulness. Every insight I have arises not from theory, but from the transformations life and work have given me.
—

I live alone because I lost my spouse.
After a period of inevitable grief, I kept pondering what state of mind she might have been in when she chose to leave.
Eventually, I saw in her departure the meaning of fulfillment through sacrifice.
Her leaving was her completion — and through that immense loss, I found my richest gain.

The other side of solitude is focus. In that deep encounter with myself, I finally completed life’s greatest act of letting go.

My understanding of mindfulness is rooted in a life built on deep fasting, meditation, and reverent sleep.
These habits have sharpened my senses, giving rise to a peculiar clarity.
Whenever negative emotions arise, I can trace them back to their mental origins while feeling the physical unease and pain being released from within.

This awareness grows stronger with each passing day.
It is a form of adaptation — a natural instinct that has always belonged to the body.
When we lose connection with the body, we lose the ability to understand it.

Every signal the body sends is a warning designed to protect us from suffering.
And through the daily rhythm of fasting, I have come to understand:
To stay free from illness is a belief.
To refuse to become ill — that is mindfulness.