Around this time a year ago, I read Natsume Soseki’s Kokoro. I was still in Beijing then. When I finished the last page, I was overwhelmed with emotions, as if my entire being had been elevated to a higher plane of thought. I believed this book had fundamentally transformed the way I think.
But just half a year later, when I tried to tell a friend about the book, I couldn’t remember anything—only the joy I’d felt upon finishing it, that sense of having gained something profound, even though I’d already forgotten what that something was. I felt ashamed of myself, thinking I must be a superficial person. But even that feeling quickly dissipated. Soon enough, I was back to living my life.
A few days ago, I picked up the book again. I read it through once more, in fits and starts. I slowly realized that what I’d thought I felt back then was really nothing at all. Perhaps it was just me pretending to be profound.
I used to believe that a person’s heart was hard to change. When I reread this book, I found that my understanding of the entire story had completely shifted. And it had only been a year.
“I do not scorn your opinions, but I cannot respect them either. Your thoughts have no foundation—you are still too young to have a past of your own. Sometimes I would laugh, and you would often show your displeasure, until finally you forced me to unfold my past before you like a scroll. That was when I began to respect you, because you showed me your determination to capture living experience from my chest without hesitation, to open my heart and drink the warm blood flowing through it.” —Kokoro, Natsume Soseki
These past six months, I’ve come to a new country, speaking an unfamiliar language, living in a different culture, meeting many new friends. Everything is so different now—including my heart. I’ve begun to reexamine myself. Am I still the person I once was? Am I still the person I am now? Everything seems to have become blurred, including the thoughts and heart I once took such pride in.
A lot has happened recently. I’ve experienced great joy and great sorrow. Perhaps it’s related to the condition I’ve always had, or perhaps that’s just an excuse I tell myself. But I have changed, that much is certain. Is this growth? Or have I simply had my edges worn smooth by society? Right now, I don’t know.
The only thing that never changes is change itself. Including the human heart. Perhaps very soon, I’ll develop new perspectives and understanding about who I am now and what I think now.
“I wonder, does that complicated machine installed in people’s chests clearly and truthfully indicate the numbers on the dial, like the hands of a clock?” My answer now is no.