[An Essay from My Heart]

Last week, on the day when spring snow fell, I stood in the yard for a long while, silently gazing at the flowers. Those that had already reached full bloom bowed their heads under the cold snow, revealing the fragile nature of life.

In that moment, I sensed that I was moving beyond mere “seeing” into the state of Jeonggwan (quiet contemplation). It was a posture of stepping back from emotional turbulence and facing the essence of things as they are.

Choi Rip described this Jeonggwan not as passive observation, but as a profound state in which the inner self and the external world meet in stillness. On that day, within the silence formed by snow and flowers, I felt I was beginning to experience its meaning.

The snow was beautiful. Yet within that beauty lay a harshness that froze the flowers. Through the lens of quiet contemplation, these were not opposites, but elements within a single order.

I no longer mourned the apparent death of the flowers. Instead, I began to accept, in stillness, the natural law and flow of time unfolding within them.

A few days later, when I stood there again, I encountered an entirely different scene. Among the frozen branches, a new vitality was quietly rising.

Buds that had not yet bloomed began to reveal themselves one by one. It was another way life unfolds—without haste, yet never missing its moment.

Some of those buds carried a shade of purple. It was not merely a color, but a depth infused with time and endurance.

Once again, I looked upon them through the eyes of quiet contemplation. In that moment, beauty no longer remained on the surface, but sank into the depth of being.

In the thought of Choi Rip, Jeonggwan is to accept things as they are while awakening to the principles within them. In those purple buds, I sensed a faint glimpse of such truth.

The flowers that endured the cold were no longer the same. Their blooming was not a repetition, but a rebirth into a deeper mode of existence.

Then I realized: nature never truly repeats itself in the same way. Every recovery is the birth of something new.

The gaze of quiet contemplation does not judge. It simply follows the flow and illuminates the essence revealed within change.

Seen in this way, hardship is no longer something to be avoided, but a process through which existence matures.

Human life is no different. We are shaken by countless storms, and at times, we too become frozen.

Yet with the posture of Jeonggwan, we are able to discover deeper meanings even within such moments.

Suffering does not end as mere suffering. It becomes a passage leading us toward a broader understanding.

As I reflected on those flowers, I began to revisit many moments of my own life. Within them, too, there had been unseen “buds.”

Things prepared in waiting, things growing in silence—perhaps these are the true sources of life’s strength.

Nature speaks no words, yet to those who possess the eyes of quiet contemplation, it offers endless stories.

Even today, I quietly observe—within the blooming flowers, and within my own life.

And I softly remind myself: this is the path of Jeonggwan that Choi Rip spoke of—a way of living life with depth.

March 31, 2026

At Sungsunjae (崇善齋)

{Solti}

한국어 번역: https://www.ktown1st.com/blog/VALover/348725

日本語 飜譯: https://www.ktown1st.com/blog/VALover/348727

    (Painted by ChatGPT)