好東西要和好朋友分享 Sharing with Each Other Non-stopped

 

學生問我：「老師，為什麼這兩天我們做了這麼多討論，且在群組裡分享了那麼多談話與文字？」

我回答：「過年了呀。總該像天女散花、像燃放鞭炮一樣，把所有的好事與好運都盡情散播出去。」

 

《詩經》有云：「哀哀父母，生我劬勞。」
今年，是我第一次在農曆新年來臨之際，真切地感到自己的人生似乎終於有了一點小小的成就——彷彿可以對多年來含辛茹苦、包容我這樣一個「奇形怪狀、甘願奉獻」女兒的父母，還有在臺灣替我守候雙親的手足及其家人，稍稍有所交代。

這次，我接下一項幾乎不可能的任務——帶領一群從臺灣前往印尼度假勝地的人們。
其中有多位長者，彷彿我的父母、叔伯姑姨一般。

 

這趟旅程，看似度假，對我而言卻更像是一場極度挑戰。當我目送大家從機場離開，爾後得知大家各自平安回到臺灣溫暖的家，甚至有人私下對我說這是一趟意猶未盡、回味無窮的心靈之旅時，我心中湧起難以言喻的感動，因為從這場我第一次在國際服務的道路上，幾乎失去使用聲帶自由的景況下，在向來無論教學或任何職務，我都極少過度使用聲音維持聲帶的狀態，卻在這一次，在當地駕駛與接待我們的退休校長——兩位也都如此次大部份同行者般比我年長、甚至兩位都患有高血壓、還希望我在大部情況下「乖乖聽話」——的態勢中，當我彷彿在夾縫中求生般必須針對許許多多方方面面「不斷周旋」時，這並非平日在教室、企業或公部門會議室裡的教學，而是隨時應對四面八方而來的各種「招數」，再以四兩撥千斤之力，將事情處理到雖非盡善盡美，卻尚可勉強過關。

 

出發前，我曾經預料這會是一場硬仗，只是我沒有想到，大家的慈悲與善意，竟讓我奇蹟般地「生還」。除了感謝天地，更衷心感恩旅途中遇見的每一個人。尤其多年前曾經帶著一群血氣方剛、平日養尊處優的「人物」，到達落後地區進行公益行動，就在我甚至認為那些當時所帶的學生們或許該多經歷一些磨練時，我自己可能已經不知不覺總在時時刻刻吞忍，然而，那種苦不是真正的苦，因為真正的苦消磨一個人的心性，而當我的心性在暗夜時如同一地月光遍灑大地時，我發現自己真的太過富足，太過豪邁；上蒼待我太厚，而我又夫復何求。

除夕夜的夜晚已來到在海外時間的倒數，當所有團員都已在臺灣家中安睡、準備迎接團圓時，我仍忍不住想起旅程初始時一位前輩對我說：「醫生？醫生能有什麼問題？妳放心吧。」

 

未曾料到，這次同行的醫生，並非我過去在大型醫院所教導的那群醫師，而是昔日曾是大學學生而慢慢成為醫生的、先暫別他在台另一半的青壯年，一位曾隨我出國服務、歷經百轉千迴後再次找到我這個做老師的人、並且想尋回他自己以及他當時的隊友的初心的學生。

 

在他的要求之下必須送他上飛機，那以後，經歷沉澱與多項任務的奔波，我在除夕夜裡，拿出日昨只剩下我與這位眼下已經是醫生的兩人時，我們到附近市場花費約新臺幣兩百元買的小煮鍋，將
薑黃、紅蘿蔔、番茄、陽春乾麵，加水煮熟，再拌入切絲後的高麗菜、洋蔥絲與些許鹽巴。

在窗明几淨、猶若新居落成的旅館裡，我自己像慶祝什麼似的，慢慢咀嚼這些滋味的甜酸苦辣。

 

我心裡想著——
我一向只願過著粗茶淡飯的生活，即便此刻聲帶仍因過度使用而微微卡卡的、澀澀的，尤其在剛剛嚐試著歌唱時仍無法如之前般能加以使用，卻跟感冒絲毫無關，而在這並非家鄉卻又正似我的家鄉的時空當中，我感受到的，卻是前所未有的寧靜、富足與喜悅。旅程中因種種事物而閃耀的亮點，串連成一層層濃密的網絡，將我與祖先、家人、朋友、陌生人，全都緊緊連結。

 

而我之所以覺得能對父母有所交代，是因為在這千難萬難之中，幾位多年相熟的學生，不約而同地在不同時間對我說：

「老師，妳怎麼能那麼正面、那樣穩穩地同時處理那麼多盤根錯節的事情？」

那一刻我更加明白，自己身而為人的使命在於能否以溫暖的胸懷，看見他人對自己的關愛與包容，再將這份包容與關愛，一一反饋於他人。也是在這一刻我得以理解，世上有一種快樂是真正沉著而深遠的寧靜，這種寧靜和百轉千迴中人世間的顛顛倒倒，一點關係也稱不上，而是一種鎖定目標的真真切切。

 

鎖定什麼目標呢?

以慈悲之眼和喜捨之心，行走世間而不卑不亢。

 

有人或許會說我瘋了。其實我早明白，若不是某種近乎「不合常理」的執著，我也不會踏上這條奇異的道路，讓父母不得不把我這個女兒「奉獻」給社會與世界。

 

但也正如一位長期與我相處的學生所形容：

「老師妳有那種武俠小說裡，大師才能指點出的無字天書的武藝超群。」

 

我不認為自己如此武功高強，卻祝福著、祈願著那些我曾經授課過的、身為醫師的學生們，都能像這次這位青壯年醫師一樣，勇敢面對內心深處的惶惶不安。

 

若醫者身、心、靈皆盡健康，我們所處的社會，必然也更加健康。

 

而我，也終於能在這場驚心動魄的旅途稍顯風平浪靜之後，緩緩吐出一口深吸入禪的氣兒——或許在旅館泳池游上一回——好好思索如何讓這趟旅程有更妥善的「擺設方式」，其實或許是將所有畫面，以另外一種全然不同的方式來重新解讀，例如入詩、入畫、入景呵呵。

 

This translation below is from the on-line translation mechanism^^ which I’ve not codified at all.

 

A student asked me, “Teacher, why have you posted so many messages and reflections in our group these past two days?”

I replied, “It’s the Lunar New Year. One should scatter good fortune like celestial maidens scattering flowers, like firecrackers bursting—sending blessings everywhere.”

The Book of Songs says, “Oh, my sorrowing parents, who bore me and labored for me.”
This year marks the first Lunar New Year when I truly feel I have achieved something—however small—that allows me to give some account to my parents, who have endured and loved their rather unconventional, voluntarily devoted daughter, and to my siblings in Taiwan who stand by them in my absence.

I accepted what seemed like an impossible mission: leading a group from Taiwan to a resort destination in Indonesia.
Among them were elders who felt like my own parents, uncles, and aunts.

It looked like a vacation, yet it was more of a spiritual journey.
Watching everyone return safely to their warm homes in Taiwan—and hearing some privately tell me it was a journey they would never forget—moved me deeply.

For the first time in my path of international service, I nearly lost the freedom to use my voice.
I have rarely overused my voice in teaching or in any role before. But this time, caught between senior local partners—both older than I, both with high blood pressure, both hoping I would simply “behave”—I found myself navigating a narrow space for survival.

I had to constantly mediate among former students, Indonesian counterparts, elders, and younger participants.
This was nothing like teaching in a classroom or speaking in a corporate or public office. Instead, it meant responding to challenges from all directions and gently redirecting them—not perfectly, but sufficiently.

Before departure, I knew it would be a tough battle.
Leading a group of spirited individuals accustomed to comfort, I even thought they might benefit from some hardship. Yet I never expected that their compassion and generosity would allow me to “survive” almost miraculously.

On Lunar New Year’s Eve, when everyone had returned home and settled into reunion festivities, I found myself reflecting on a senior’s early reassurance:
“Doctors? What problems could doctors possibly have? Don’t worry.”

This time, however, the doctor was not one of the hospital-based physicians I once taught, but a former student—someone who had once served abroad with me, wandered through life’s twists and turns, and found his way back, seeking his original simplicity.

After seeing him off at the airport and completing various tasks, I spent New Year’s Eve with a small cooking pot we had bought together for about 200 NT dollars at a nearby market.
Turmeric, carrots, tomatoes, plain noodles—boiled with water—then topped with fresh cabbage, sliced onions, and a little salt.

In a newly built, spotless hotel room, we ate slowly, as if celebrating something sacred.

I have never desired wealth or luxury—only a simple life.
Though my voice was still strained, in that profound silence I felt immense peace, abundance, and joy.

The highlights of the journey formed a dense network of connection—linking me with ancestors, family, friends, and strangers alike.

In the midst of countless challenges, several long-time students said to me at different moments:

“Teacher, how can you remain so positive and steady while handling such complicated situations all at once?”

Only then did I realize that one’s mission in life is not defined by wealth, but by the capacity to receive others’ love and tolerance with warmth—and to return it fully.

Some may say I am mad.
Perhaps I must be, to walk such an unusual path—one that has, in a sense, required my parents to offer their daughter to society and the world.

Yet as one student once described me:

“Teacher, you possess the kind of wordless martial arts mastery that only grandmasters in wuxia novels can teach.”

I hope that is true.
And I hope that my students who are physicians will, like this young doctor, bravely face the anxieties within their own hearts.

For when healers are healthy in body, mind, and spirit, society itself becomes healthier.

And now, after this astonishing journey, I can finally sit quietly—perhaps after a swim in the hotel pool on New Year’s Eve—and reflect on how to reinterpret all these scenes in a new light.