陳立維老師部落格

極權國家會壓制人民的言論自由，醫療體制亦然，它壓抑了「身體意見」的表達空間。

雖生活在文明社會中，人們卻在人際互動中不斷複製、傳播那些「無關身體本質」的健康觀。身體無法發聲，只能默默承擔。

醫療體系創造出一種與身體真相日漸疏離的極權世界，藥物、疫苗與非必要手術，這些對人體造成高度傷害的手段，卻成了我們習以為常、不得不依賴的求生依靠。

Just as totalitarian regimes suppress free speech, the medical system suppresses the body’s voice.
We may live in a so-called “civilized” society, but in our everyday interactions, we continuously replicate and spread health beliefs that ignore the body’s essence. The body has no voice—it simply endures in silence.

Medicine has created a totalitarian world that drifts further from the truth of the body. Drugs, vaccines, and unnecessary surgeries—despite the harm they inflict—have become normalized tools for survival.

「斷食，真能成為一股力量嗎？」，如果從民間視角提出這個問題，答案是否定的，不僅不可能，而且根本毫無機會。

但事實上，那是一股源自大自然的力量，一直默默醞釀中。這股力量需要時間，也需要極大的耐心，更需要一群實踐者持續堅守他們的信念與領空。

回到根本，為什麼斷食需要成為一股力量？因為我們的下一代需要接收這份力量，它代表一種希望，一種能提升平均健康水平的希望。

若因為你的堅持，有數千人得以學會從「身體」出發的養生視角，透過社群的連結，進而有上萬人開啟健康新視野，你一定會為此目標傾盡全力。

“Can fasting really become a force?”
From a conventional perspective, the answer is a clear no—it seems impossible, with not even a sliver of a chance.
Yet in truth, fasting embodies a force rooted in nature. It has long been quietly brewing. This force requires time, immense patience, and above all, a committed group of practitioners who remain steadfast in their beliefs and domain.

Why must fasting become a force?
Because future generations need to receive this energy—a form of hope, a hope that could elevate the baseline of public health.
If your persistence enables thousands to learn a body-centered approach to health, and through community networks tens of thousands more begin to see health from a new perspective, then surely, you would give your all toward that goal.

我們正在傳承一種「不實作就無法理解」的養生態度，親眼見證一位位前輩為了堅守價值倒下，唯一能做的，是提升我們面對負面情緒的覺察力。

我不看錢說話，但我看清那些無的放矢的抨擊，因為他們得保住自己的飯碗，所以只能攻擊，不需要理解，「拿錢辦事」就是這麼一回事。

名氣是把雙刃劍，有名氣才能推廣理念，但太有名，就可能惹禍上身。那種必須「有名但不能太紅」的尺度，對我而言，既是工作上的拿捏，也是一種自我保護。

我對幾位前輩的離世原因有深刻體悟，推廣非主流本就是逆風前行，壓力之大，足以摧毀一個人的身心。

We are carrying forward a kind of wellness attitude that can only be understood through practice. I’ve personally witnessed pioneers fall in their efforts to uphold their values. The only thing we can do is increase our awareness of negative emotions and remain grounded.

I don’t speak from a place of money, but I do see clearly the baseless attacks—they criticize only to protect their own livelihoods. They don’t need to understand, because their job is to attack. That’s how “getting paid to do the job” works.

Fame is a double-edged sword. One needs recognition to spread their ideas, but too much fame becomes a risk. To me, mastering the delicate balance of being “known but not too well-known” is not only a strategic decision—it’s also a form of self-protection.

I have a deep understanding of the reasons behind several pioneers’ passing. Promoting non-mainstream healing is like swimming against the current—the pressure is immense, enough to destroy both body and mind.

真正有意義的事，從來不是對自己有利的事。將利益視為目的，正是人生庸碌空轉的原因。我們唯有穿越層層磨難，才能領悟那場關於「意義」的當頭棒喝。

哲學家約翰・羅爾斯（John Rawls）說過：「凡是蒙上天眷顧之人，無論他是誰，都必須協助那些身處劣勢的人，才能真正從自己的幸運中受益。」

我對「珍惜生命」的認真思考，是從體會身體天賦開始的。「飲水思源」的自我要求，也是在確定健康方向之後，才深深紮根。

那是一種極其稀有的機會，一場極為珍貴的相遇。透過尊重身體的練習，生命最終引我進入「人身難得」的深層領悟。

即便只是肚子餓了想吃，也是一次在「必須處理」與「是否有意義」之間的選擇。經過反覆練習後，「該吃」與「其實不必這樣吃」之間的判斷，自然清晰。

What’s truly meaningful is rarely what benefits the self. Seeing personal gain as life’s purpose is the very reason we run in circles, living meaningless lives. Only by passing through hardship do we wake up to the lesson life shouts at us about meaning.

Philosopher John Rawls once said: “Those who have been favored by fortune, no matter who they are, must help those less fortunate if they are to fully benefit from their own luck.”

My deep reflection on treasuring life began with recognizing the body’s innate wisdom. The demand I placed on myself to “remember the source when drinking water” only took root after I truly understood the path to health.

It was a rare opportunity. A precious encounter. Through the practice of honoring the body, life eventually led me to a profound realization of the rarity of human birth.

Even the simple act of hunger—wanting to eat—becomes a choice between what must be done and what is meaningful. Through repeated practice, the ability to discern between “I need to eat” and “I don’t need to eat like this” becomes second nature.

有一種心情，特別值得記錄：繼續前行，但不懷期待。

如果順利，那是上天的恩賜；如果不順遂，那是提醒我繼續專注分內之事。

生命旅途持續出現類似的提醒：一帆風順，人就傲慢；遭遇挫折，則容易抱怨。

這樣的情境與養生之道有極深的關聯，手指頭指著別人的承受病痛，反求諸己的可望找到那份名為「耐心」的智慧。

耐心，有一位最佳伴侶，這是我在推廣身體之道教育中最深的領悟。早期，我鼓勵學員「給時間」；近年來，我則強調「不期待」，最終的總結回到：「做該做的事。」

Yet one emotion has been especially worthy of recording:
To keep moving forward—without expectation.

If things go smoothly, it’s a blessing. If not, it’s a reminder to focus on what is mine to do.
Life constantly sends such reminders: when things go too well, we become arrogant; when met with hardship, we fall into complaint.

This directly mirrors the path of health: pointing fingers at others’ illnesses while failing to reflect inward only distances us from the quiet wisdom of patience.

Patience has a best companion—this is the deepest insight I’ve gained in my years of teaching the way of the body.
In earlier years, I encouraged students to “give it time.” In recent years, I emphasize “let go of expectations.”
And ultimately, the core message returns to this: “Do what must be done.”

所謂「最佳狀態」，並非來自他人認定，也不是檢查報告的數據所能證明。所有數字正常的健康報告，也不必然代表身心處於巔峰，因為心理狀態與身體能量的真實水平無法透過報表顯現。

「最佳狀態」的核心，在於生活態度：是否體恤身體的辛勞？是否落實限時飲食？是否把睡眠視為日常作息中的重中之重？

The so-called “optimal state” is not determined by others, nor can it be confirmed by medical reports. Even a health report full of normal numbers does not necessarily mean one is in peak condition. Psychological well-being and true physical vitality cannot be reflected in charts or data.

The essence of an optimal state lies in one’s attitude toward life: Do you treat your body with compassion? Do you truly implement time-restricted eating? Do you treat sleep as the most sacred part of your daily routine?

後路」的真相，就呈現在我每天面對的每一位個案中。對大多數人而言，醫療就是最後的退路，當真走投無路時，至少還有這條。

為什麼學員不肯用心學習？因為他們心中，還有後路。為什麼人們對自己健康的照顧總是斷斷續續？因為，還有後路。

他們的眼神常常告訴我：「這條路不行，還有那條大家都走的路。」然而現實是：正是那條「大家都走的路」，阻礙了真正通往健康的路。

這就是「用心」與「用腦」的差異。如果你還保留一點「用腦」的空間，你就會替醫生的裁決保留位置。

也就是說，在努力的過程中，你其實還在偷偷允許自己「不需要太努力」。

The truth about having “no way back” reveals itself in every individual I meet. For most people, medicine is the final fallback. When all else fails, at least they can turn to that.

Why don’t students truly commit to learning? Because they believe they still have a fallback. Why do people’s efforts to care for their health falter and stall? Because they think—they still have a fallback.

Their eyes often tell me: “If this doesn’t work, there’s always the path that everyone else is taking.” But the truth is: it’s precisely that well-trodden path that blocks the way to true health.

This is the difference between using the heart and using the mind. As long as you leave room for the mind’s rationalizations, you will always leave space for the doctor’s decisions.

Which is to say: even as you try, you’re still secretly allowing yourself not to try too hard.

當我逐步將人生思維轉向身體與靈性的整合時，許多生命法則也在我心中逐一定位。

廚房裡那熟悉的背影，成了我特別感懷的對象。不只是對她辛苦的感念，更有對自己過往不夠珍惜的深深愧疚。

只要對談的女性心中存有委屈，她與伴侶互動中所感受到的冷漠，我都能收到。愛與否，其實無須多說，心在不在，對方早已了然。

總是一場又一場無怨無悔與無情無義之間的對峙，世間不乏好男人，但當家庭需要承擔的時刻，這些好男人究竟都去哪了？

As I gradually shifted my life’s focus toward the integration of body and spirit, many of life’s truths began to fall into place. And that familiar silhouette in the kitchen became an image of profound emotional weight for me—not just in gratitude for her labor, but in deep remorse for how little I cherished her back then.

Whenever I speak with women who carry unresolved hurt in their hearts, I can sense the coldness they experience in their relationships. Whether love is still present or not, no words are necessary—when the heart is absent, the other person always knows.

It’s always a silent standoff between the devoted and the indifferent. Good men are not rare in this world—but when the family truly needs support, where have all the good men gone?

當一棟大樓的每一戶都加蓋夾層、陽台外推、頂樓增建，它就成了一座「看不見的風險塔」。

同理可證，我們的身體若也如此，每個內臟都像是一戶人家，外層堆滿脂肪（加蓋），內部長出息肉（夾層），我們是否也在無聲的為病變埋下伏筆？

不該等到倒下那刻，才來追問風險何來；更不該在病入膏肓時，還否認一切與自己無關。即便聲稱「不知道」，即便堅持「不知情」，最終仍需自己承擔。

When every unit in a building adds mezzanines, extends balconies, or builds on the rooftop, it becomes an invisible tower of risk.

By the same logic, if our bodies were treated the same way—if every organ were like a unit, with fat layered on the outside (add-ons) and polyps growing inside (mezzanines)—are we not silently laying the groundwork for disease?

We should not wait until collapse to ask where the risk came from. Nor should we, once illness takes root, deny all responsibility. Even if we claim “I didn’t know,” even if we insist “I wasn’t aware,” the consequences still fall upon us.

要釐清什麼是最重要的事，首先得對「時間」有真切的覺悟：時間只有此刻，沒有過去，也沒有未來。

因為，過去已逝，未來未至。沒有所謂「等我有時間就會做的事」，也不會有「等我有錢就會做的事」，一旦真正理解時間的本質，我們會省下許多空間、時間與金錢。

家中若雜亂，多半不是因為空間太小，而是物品太多。那些「多餘」，往往來自對時間的誤解，許多東西根本不再會用，像是不會再穿的衣服、不會再讀的書。

我從人體的自我更新機制中，領悟到取捨的重要性。身體每天會處理記憶，並在睡眠時進行篩選，重要的資訊被儲存，不重要的自然剔除。

人類學家羅賓·鄧巴提出「鄧巴數字150」，代表一個人能維繫穩定人際關係的上限。這不只在現實生活中成立，也反映了人類記憶體的容量極限。

To clarify what matters most, we must first awaken to the truth of time: there is only now. No past, no future. The past is gone. The future has not yet come. There’s no such thing as “I’ll do it when I have time,” or “I’ll do it when I have money.” Once we truly grasp the nature of time, we begin saving vast amounts of space, energy, and money.

If a home is cluttered, it’s often not due to lack of space, but an excess of possessions — things we keep due to a misunderstanding of time: clothes we’ll never wear again, books we’ll never reread.

Through studying the body’s self-renewal mechanisms, I’ve come to understand the importance of letting go. The body processes memories and detoxifies during sleep, keeping what matters, eliminating what does not.

Anthropologist Robin Dunbar proposed “Dunbar’s Number” — 150 — the upper limit of stable human relationships. This isn’t just a social observation; it also reflects the limits of human memory capacity.

吃，是營養素的來源，卻同時是生命力的消耗。這意味著，補充營養與減少損耗之間必須取得平衡。

人類對此來回驗證已久，而「限時飲食」是目前唯一經證實可行的方案。

為何限時飲食能獲得廣泛肯定？因為它對準了問題的本質。本質，是指身體的原始設定，以身體的時間軸為依歸，將每日的時間歸還給身體，是我們最該實踐的事。

我自己也做了長期的實驗與轉變：從早年的三餐制，到二十年前開始的一日兩餐，直至近十年落實每日一餐。

這裡說的「餐」，指的是熟食，也就是食物已失去其原始生命力的型態。這一餐進入身體後，必然會剝奪身體的部分生命力。

Eating is a source of nutrients, yes—but also a drain on vitality. Which means we must find a balance between nutrient intake and vitality loss.

Humanity has tested this truth repeatedly, and “time-restricted eating” is the only currently validated method that works.

Why has time-restricted eating gained such wide acceptance? Because it targets the root of the issue. The essence lies in the body’s original design—aligning with the body’s timeline and returning each day’s time to the body. That’s the most worthwhile thing we can do.

I’ve conducted long-term personal experiments and undergone several transitions: from three meals a day in my early years, to two meals a day starting twenty years ago, and for nearly a decade now, one meal per day.

By “meal,” I mean a cooked meal—food that has lost its original life force. Once it enters the body, it inevitably robs some of the body’s vitality.

我幾乎是在追尋健康真相的過程中，意外踏入生命的探索之門。從不同的角度切入最終都會指向相同的核心，當深入探究生命本質時，將能更全面理解健康的真正意義。

感染，提供了一個通往真相的清晰視窗。人類本有機會透過感染，理解進化遺留給我們的智慧。但因為視角偏頗，我們對身體的信任也逐漸偏離。

事實上，能夠感染後存活，正是生存力的展現。我們不該恐懼感染，而應學會經歷與穿越感染。如今，對感染的恐懼已成全民共識，卻也是全民迷失。

人生總有困境，困難當前，就是要面對與處理。處理後，我們才能更加茁壯。這份力量，不會降臨在選擇逃避的人身上。

人類與低等動物不同，我們具備慈悲與團結的特質，特別在重大災難之後更是如此，因為困境愈深，人性中扭轉局勢的潛力就愈顯珍貴。

It was through my search for the truth about health that I stumbled upon the gateway to life itself. Different starting points ultimately lead to the same core. When we deeply investigate the essence of life, we begin to understand the true meaning of health.

Infection offers a clear window into truth. Humanity was given the opportunity to understand the wisdom left to us by evolution through infection. But due to our skewed perspective, our trust in the body has gone astray.

In fact, surviving an infection is a testament to vitality. We should not fear infection—we should learn to go through it and grow from it. Today, fear of infection has become a universal consensus, but also a universal delusion.

Life is full of adversity, and challenges must be faced and dealt with. Only after confronting them do we become stronger. That strength never comes to those who choose to run away.

Unlike lower species, humans possess compassion and unity—especially in the aftermath of great disasters. The deeper the crisis, the more precious the human potential to turn things around.

慰藉總是勝過尊嚴，這並不是悲觀的結論，而是我長年觀察的人性總結。

眼界短淺是人的通病，不應是你我的常規。

尊嚴，從來不是未來的事，它是今天的事，是我們此刻生命中就該擁有的價值。就如同買保險，是為了保障，而不是為了理賠。

從結果倒推，先看見那個失去尊嚴的自己，我們會下定決心行動。

去做那些我們不會做、也不敢做，但必須做的事。

守護尊嚴，不能等待。

Comfort always seems to win over dignity. This is not a pessimistic conclusion, but a candid reflection on human nature.

Short-sightedness is a universal flaw—it should not be our personal norm.

Dignity has never been a future matter. It is a present one. A value we must own here and now. Like buying insurance—not for the payout, but for the protection.

Look at your future self—the one who has lost dignity—and reverse engineer your actions. Let that image drive you.

Do the things you wouldn’t normally do, might not dare to do, but must do.

To guard dignity, we cannot wait.

在我的生命經驗中，面對人性幾乎成為日常工作。回顧過往接觸的無數個案，有一項共通的人性缺口格外顯眼：缺乏持續力。

持續，是所有人生考題中最容易被理解，卻最難被落實的一道。人們總等不及那滴水穿石的成果，也無法忍受聚沙成塔的漫長。

人生雖苦短，卻又必須經歷長期努力。努力成為一種根本態度，因為生命的受限，才顯出堅持的價值。

人類社會創造出龐大的醫療產業，彷彿健康可以被「歸還」。雖說醫者初衷未必如此，但病患的潛在欲望卻不斷加深對醫療的依賴。

醫病關係雖非買賣，卻也隱約透露出一種「對價性質」：多數人潛意識裡，只剩下一個簡化的信念：「花錢買健康」或「專業成就健康」。

如果這僅是少數人的誤解，那還容易修正；問題是，幾乎全人類都默默陷入了這種依賴。而想要扭轉這樣的集體偏執，願意站出來的力量，正逐漸式微。

In my life experience, confronting human nature has become a daily occupation. Reflecting on countless cases I’ve encountered, one trait of human nature stands out: the lack of perseverance.

Perseverance is perhaps the easiest concept to understand, yet the hardest to put into practice. People are rarely willing to wait for water to pierce stone, or to endure the long process of building a tower grain by grain.

Life is short, yet it demands long-term effort. That effort, therefore, becomes a fundamental attitude. It is precisely the limitation of life that reveals the value of persistence.

Modern society has created a massive healthcare industry, as if health is something that can be “restored” or “reclaimed.” While this may not be the intention of medical practitioners, the unconscious desire of patients continues to deepen their dependence on the medical system.

Though the doctor-patient relationship is not a transaction in the literal sense, it does carry an implicit sense of exchange. Most people have reduced their beliefs to one simplistic notion: “You can buy health” or “Health is the result of professional intervention.”

If this misunderstanding were limited to a few individuals, it would be easy to correct. But the problem is that almost all of humanity has silently fallen into this dependency. And the force needed to reverse such collective delusion is fading.

當你為他人輕生而感嘆時，也該回頭看看自己是否真正尊重生命。成為人，已經是宇宙中難得的奇蹟，但我們卻常常忘了感恩，忘了去愛、去孝順、去回報。

我們把情緒視為理所當然，動怒變成常態，對人不和善變成習慣。而這些情緒，其實與輕生者內在的吶喊並無二致，都是對外界失望後的極端反應。

人生的困境，多源於我們從未釐清情緒的真面目。生氣，是一種對自我的傷害；暴怒，更像是一種慢性的自我毀滅。這不只是天知道的事，身體也知道。

「為何生氣」是一個值得自問的題目。情緒當下的答案與事後的思考，往往截然不同，因為立場改變，心境也改變，答案也就不同。

如果終將圓滿，如果所有衝突終將和解，那麼我們在那一刻的糾結與痛苦，又有何意義？執著於負面情緒，只是讓自己更不健康，何苦來哉？

If you find yourself mourning someone who took their own life, it’s also worth asking: Have I truly respected my own life? To be born human is already a rare cosmic miracle—yet we often forget to be grateful, to love, to honor our parents, to give back.

We take our emotions for granted. Anger becomes habitual, unkindness becomes routine. Yet these emotions are not far from the inner cries of those who end their lives—they are simply different expressions of the same despair after losing hope in the world.

Most of life’s suffering stems from not understanding our emotions. Anger is self-harm; rage, a slow form of self-destruction. And this is not just metaphorical—the body knows it too.

“Why am I angry?” is a question worth asking. The answer in the heat of the moment is often very different from the one found in calm reflection. As our perspective shifts, so too does our emotional truth.

If everything is destined to find peace in the end, if all conflicts will eventually be resolved, then what meaning do our moments of entanglement and pain really hold? Clinging to negativity only makes us more unwell—is it really worth it?

每天清晨醒來，當我們準備迎接新的一天，體內早已悄然啟動一連串化學反應：壓力荷爾蒙上升、血糖與胰島素同步調節。這正是所謂的「黎明現象」，身體自動為應變做好準備，是一種天生的風險意識。

這種現象日復一日運作，即使我們渾然不覺，它依舊存在，提醒我們：大腦並非萬能，它常常「不懂裝懂」。身體擁有遠比我們意識更敏銳的風險感知系統，而這份智慧，卻是我們長期忽略的寶藏。

發燒與發炎，癌與腫瘤，都屬於身體風險意識的一環，醫療從對抗的角度審視這些現象，無端擴大了疾病的版圖。

斷食，就是一種逆轉操作。它讓身體有機會清除因長期進食而囤積的廢物，也同步清除異常的細胞組織。讓我有機會體悟：進食、情緒與囤積之間存在著一條無形的風險路徑。

Each morning, as we awaken to a new day, our body quietly initiates a series of chemical reactions: a surge in stress hormones, synchronized adjustments in blood sugar and insulin levels. This is what is known as the “dawn phenomenon”—a built-in response system preparing us for the demands of the day. It is the body’s natural form of risk awareness.

This phenomenon occurs daily, whether we notice it or not. It reminds us of a fundamental truth: the brain is not all-knowing. In fact, it often pretends to know what it doesn’t. The body, on the other hand, possesses a far more intuitive and refined perception of danger—an intelligence we’ve long overlooked.

Fever, inflammation, cancer, and tumors are all expressions of this risk awareness. Yet modern medicine, viewing these phenomena through a lens of opposition, often enlarges the scope of disease rather than understanding its purpose.

Fasting is a kind of reverse operation. It grants the body a chance to cleanse the accumulated waste from prolonged eating—and even to clear abnormal cellular structures. Through fasting, I’ve come to realize there is an invisible path linking eating, emotional states, and physiological buildup.

痊癒，屬於身體的權限。自生命開始以來，療癒從未離開過我們的肉身，身體也從未推卸過守護健康的責任。

那些得定期回診、長期依賴注射治療的人，我尊重他們的選擇，但也同時為他們的處境感到惋惜。

這是我們所受的教育，接受治療，就像服兵役，是一種「國民義務」。

我們從未被教育過，該怎麼傾聽自己的身體，無法聽見身體的聲音，是多麼可悲的一件事。

Healing belongs to the body. Since the beginning of life, healing has always been embedded in our flesh. The body has never evaded its duty to protect and sustain health.

For those who require regular hospital visits or long-term injections, I respect their choice, but I also feel sorrow for their predicament. This is what we were taught: that receiving treatment—like serving in the military—is a citizen’s obligation.

We were never taught how to listen to our bodies. And not hearing the voice of the body is, in itself, a quiet tragedy.

「產品無法創造健康」，這句話或許不易被接受。大眾長期以來已習慣相信商品與效果的線性關係。但從身體的角度出發，這樣的觀念，應該從我們的大腦中徹底剝除。

為什麼？答案正如文章標題所說：產品好，不如習慣好。

這不是一句口號，而是一種實踐的證明，一項超越科學的實證課題，需要那些真正熟練身體之道的人來回答。那不是技巧，而是一種深度、一種熟練，唯有從身體的立場，才能看見更遠的目標。

正如另一篇文章的標題：「用腦學，不如用心學」，習慣以大腦主導的人，難以真正走進身體的智慧世界，自然也不會培養出與身體同行的習慣。

“Products don’t create health.”
Many may find this hard to accept. Most people are conditioned to believe in a linear relationship between a product and its effect. But from the body’s perspective, this mindset must be cleared from the brain entirely.

Why? The answer is in the title:
A Good Product Is No Match for a Good Habit.

This isn’t a slogan—it’s a lived truth, an evidence-based insight that transcends science, and one that only those who truly understand the way of the body can answer. It’s not about technique; it’s about depth. Only from the body’s standpoint can we see further and clearer.

As I wrote elsewhere: “Learning with the brain pales in comparison to learning with the heart.” Those who habitually think from the head find it hard to enter the world of bodily wisdom, and without that, they cannot cultivate the kind of habits that truly align with the body.

從更宏觀的角度來看，人生的每一個面向，都能套用這個問題：你是用腦在學，還是用心在活？兩者通往的是截然不同的終點。

心與腦，是人生最深刻也最奇妙的試煉。試著觀察那些作惡之人，是出於用心，還是用腦過度？你遇過的業務或推銷員，是用真誠互動，還是精於話術？

心會帶你去你「該去」的地方，腦則帶你去你「想去」的地方。心留下的是感受，腦留下的只是足跡。

From a broader perspective, this question applies to every facet of life: Are you learning with your mind, or living with your heart? The two paths lead to entirely different destinations.

The heart and the mind form one of life’s deepest, most mysterious tests. Observe those who do harm—is it because they’re following their hearts, or is it the result of overthinking? Think about the salespeople you’ve met—are they connecting with sincerity, or just masters of persuasion?

The heart takes you where you ought to go. The mind takes you where you want to go. What the heart leaves behind is feeling; what the mind leaves behind is just footprints.

Relationships can be driven by logic, or by emotion. When someone constantly feels empty and keeps chasing new goals, their heart is still there—it’s just been suppressed by excessive reasoning.

人際關係可以靠理性，也可以靠情感。經常感到空虛並不斷追逐新目標的人，心其實還在，只是理性壓抑了情感。