Unfortunate

I was once happy. My name is Huan, a name given to me by my parents. It means fortunate. But little did my parents know just how my unfortunate I could be. But I know, and now I’m here to tell you.

I live in the city of Chang’an, which is the capital of the . My parents, Hui and Ling, thought that this would be a good place to parent a child, as well as a good place to find work. I lived there my whole life, and they were wrong. We were not able to find much work.

“Huan!” that was my mother’s cry. Surely she was going to inform me that our food was ready. I raced into the room and sat at the table. My mother laid down a very small bowl of rice. The meal was good, but the moment I finished, my stomach growled for more.

“Mother,” I called thoughtfully, as to not upset her, “why is our food so scarce? Surely we have more?” My mother, Ling, just stared into my eyes. The pure look of sadness is rare, but it can never be mistaken for something else.

Finally, after a long moment, she spoke. “Huan, there is a problem. Your father, Hui, died in his sleep last night.” My insides turned to ice. I wanted to scream. I wanted to find out why he was dead and make the source suffer. “How?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice steady. Even in a bad time like this I need to be respectful.

My mother went on to explain, ”We have almost no food, and we can’t work in this state. I’m ill, and your father was ill. He starved to death, to save you.” Now my insides were roaring. “How does this help me?” I knew that my tone was harsh, I could hear it. My mother cried. A single tear dripped down her face. Many moments passed, and then she explained, “He gave his food to you.”

The next morning came, and there was someone else at the table. He did not were the elaborate silk robes of nobles, but wore humble cotton clothing. “Welcome, Huan. I’m your uncle, Fan Cheng, and I am your new legal guardian.” I knew what that meant. My voice was shaky, and I couldn’t the words out well. “Where is my mother?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. She had given me her life.

Fan Cheng was of the Taoist religion, and so with him as my new guardian, I was too. I was supposed to figure out how to accept my life, find peace, and enable possibility, by following my own path. I’ve been trying, but there’s one thing I can’t get. I cannot accept myself. The thought of my starving parents haunts me every night. I am angry. I was angry at my parents for dying in a half-hearted attempt to save me! These thoughts are evil, and therefor I must resist them.

I woke up this morning to see Fan. He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed while breathing deeply yet calmly. I had seen him do this before. I figured it must have been a form of meditation, something that I hadn’t completely gotten the hang of. I tried it before, but I’m not able to concentrate enough, and not before long, I find that my mind has wandered back to dark thoughts, the type that make everything feel unwelcome.

One thing that I have been able to enjoy ever since unfortunate events is the food. Uncle Fan says that the teachings of the Buddha say that one must follow the middle-path in order to reach enlightenment. I was living very poorly, barely surviving in a situation of starvation, so when I finally started living Fan, who had a job, the food I was intaking increased. Finally, one good thing from my parent’s demise.

Many suns had set, and many moons had risen. My parents were still dead, and I was still living with Fan. One day I called to him. I knew that the dark thoughts in my head were what was keeping me from accepting myself. “Fan,” I said, knowing that this could be my last hope. “Fan, in Taoism, there isn’t any way to bring people back from the dead, is there?” Even as the words left my mouth, I felt foolish for asking.

Fan knew the answer, and he knew I knew. Yet, I still waited a reply. After a long moment, Fan spoke. “Huan,” he started, “there is no way to revive people from the dead, for it is just another step i the cycle of life. Your parents were good people, but they have lived out their lives, so it is time for them to continue on.”

It was at this I stopped. I stopped hating, I stopped feeling, I stopped everything. I just sat down, and started to weep quietly. My parents were dead, but I couldn’t linger on this. Then something unexpected happened. Fan hugged me. We had never been more physical other than a shake of the hand.

“I must accept who I am, and what I feel, knowing that it will pass. For I have the power to shape my own path.” This is what I said, and it was true. I had to look to the future years that were come. By finally accepting the death of my parents and knowing that I had my whole life, I would be fine.

This was the journal written by Huan after the experiences of which he encountered. He shaped his path, found peace, and welcomed possibility. He died at a very old age, all alone, ready to continue the next step in his journey.