Why Am I Here?

This post is the text of a speech translated from Chinese to English that I gave during my “gap year” to volunteer in Taiwan after high school and before college in 2001-2002. I was 18 when I was wrote this, and I am now 30 years old. Looking back, time has truly flown by, as I had expected. 

I am 18 years old, and I just graduated from high school. Last year, I applied and was accepted into MIT, and I have deferred it for a year to volunteer with Tzu Chi. My current plans are to study for four years of college, four years of medical school, six years of surgical residency. Eventually, 14 years later, I will probably be 33 years old. I know that time will fly, that my life will go by quickly. I also do not know when I will die. Will I die tomorrow or the next month or the year after? I have no way to predict that. I feel that, amidst life's impermanence, since I do not know when I will die, I must first do what I need to do.

When I was in the tenth grade, around age 16, I decided to defer college for a year (a so-called "gap year"), because at that time I did not know whether in the future I would have the opportunity to come to Taiwan Tzu Chi, to follow Master Cheng Yen and to learn from so many Tzu Chi volunteers. I felt that there was a need to spend a year to volunteer with Tzu Chi full-time. (By the way, deferring college for a year is the choice of about 7% of all American high school graduates and the choice of the majority of college students in the UK.)

I feel that this decision was quite simple because I feel this is what I need to do. So I am very fortunate. In coming to Tzu Chi, I feel that I have found a purpose in life.

Since I was small, I was both anxiously and enthusiastically in search of answering some questions on how to best use the time that I have in my life: "What will I do with my life? What do I need to do? What should I do? What is the meaning and purpose of my life?"

This was particularly so during the weekends or holidays, or playing basketball, or playing the cello, or whatever activity after activity that fills the lives of high school students, I would ask: What does this have to do with the purpose of my life? Am I doing what I should be doing? I would feel that, among unlimited decisions and options and choices, what should I do and what path and what direction should I take? What kind of person should I become? I would think: If I do not know the basic direction of where I am going, then how could I make any decisions about how to get there, how to live?

I remember vividly when I was in the seventh grade at age 13. I read an English version of Still Thoughts (now re-branded as Jing Si Aphorisms). One saying said something to the effect of, "If you do not know what you are going to paint, a stroke here, a stroke there, in the end your painting will be a mess and it won’t be pretty." Even though I do not know how I will die or when I will die, when I die I wish to leave behind a beautiful painting. And to do that, I need to properly plan my life.

More importantly, when I read Still Thoughts at age 13, cover to cover in one sitting, the main message stood out to me very loudly and very simply: The purpose of life is to benefit others. In one day, this book had answered a year of my desperate questioning on my life’s purpose. 

I remember that someone asked Master Cheng Yen: When she first started doing Tzu Chi, did she ever imagine that Tzu Chi would become this large? I think the Master never thought about that. Master’s response, however, was something as follows: In my life, I have only done one thing. The only plan that I have made was to benefit living beings, help those who need help. Master Cheng Yen’s courage to help others, her tenacity, and her confidence and faith – are very moving to me.

Some have asked me in the past: Why are you in Tzu Chi? I would then respond, Why is Master Cheng Yen doing Tzu Chi? I hope that I would do Tzu Chi for the same reason that the Master is doing Tzu Chi – or any other activity for that matter. I would like to offer my entire life to others and use every minute and every second for their benefit.

Actually, in the US, it is very easy to do so-called "volunteer work" – and there are many organizations that have service opportunities, volunteer organizations. But Tzu Chi and every organization is different. It is the spirit and the values of Tzu Chi that I wish to learn. When I see Master Cheng Yen, she uses her every second to benefit others. When I see volunteers doing Tzu Chi all around the world, whether they are in Thailand or Taiwan, Jordan or Japan, South Africa or Southern California, I am so moved. Tzu Chi volunteers are the best model for me to learn from at this time. From their bodies and their actions, I can learn how to be a person and how to live. This is therefore the first thing in life that I must do. Everything else is a second priority. 

Translating "Tzu Chi" as Compassion Relief, Revisited

This blog post is a revised version of a post published in 2009 in which I argued that the best way to translate "Tzu Chi" is "compassion relief".

There is a long-standing debate within Tzu Chi on the best way to translate the organization's name "Tzu Chi" into English. This debate arises from the ongoing challenges within the organization in figuring out how to talk about the organization in English, because so much of its organizational and volunteer culture is in Chinese. People like me who are second generation Chinese and who know both Chinese and English can help to address this challenge.

Over the years, I have come to believe that "Compassion Relief" is in fact the most accurate translation of "Tzu Chi".

Some have, incorrectly I believe, argued that "compassion relief" is grammatically incorrect (I will show that this doesn't apply here), and that it means "compassionate relief" or "compassion and relief". I disagree with the former alternative and the latter alternative has some limitations. "Compassionate relief" focuses on the way in which relief is given, i.e., "compassionately", which I argue is incorrect. The latter focuses on the distinctness of compassion and relief, which I show is not necessarily better than "compassion relief" from an organizational or branding perspective.

There is a third alternative (and which instigated this blog in 2009). Some believe that Tzu Chi actually means "Serving with Compassion." For me, this is possibly the worst choice of slogan or name. It is focused on two things: the Agent/do-er, that is, he or she who serves, and the Object, that is, what the agent serves, which they purport to be compassion.

However, this slogan is not only inconsistent with Buddhist teachings on the Emptiness of the Three Spheres -- Empty of Giver, Receiver, and Gift; it is also extremely presumptuous. How can we be sure that what we serve "with" is compassion? In addition, it is less about "service" and more about "relief". Does service eliminate pain or does relief eliminate it? Unfortunately, USA and Canada Headquarters had adopted, for a period of time, "Serving with Compassion" as its slogan. But I believe that they got it wrong.

Compassion is not a way or a kind of behavior per se. In Buddhism compassion is actually an intention; it is a motivation. It is the basis of our actions, not the quality of it. As Venerable Yin Shun instructed his student Venerable Cheng Yen, "Work tirelessly for Buddhism, for all sentient beings"; that basis, that motivation is pinned on compassion.

Fortunately, since 2009 Tzu Chi USA, for the most part, seems to have dropped this slogan. Still, some residual brochures and documents and pages have that older slogan "serving with compassion"; so if you see this phrase, please cross it out. It is incorrect!

Today Tzu Chi USA emphasizes "compassion and relief", a moderately better but still insufficient name. Why is "Compassion Relief" preferable to "Compassion and Relief"? Because this is an organization's name we are talking about, and not a grammatically correct sentence. Take, for example, CARE, Oxfam, Red Cross, or Mercy Corps. These non-profits have memorable names that are easy to remember. Tzu Chi is short, but not necessarily easy to remember for foreigners.

One implicit argument until now that I have been making is that we should be using English names in an American setting (just as the Americans use Doctors Without Borders rather than Medicines San Frontieres). Another comparison would be to point out that Tzu Chi's name is not "慈悲和救濟"; instead it is simply 慈濟. Similarly, by abbreviating "Compassion and Relief" to "Compassion Relief", there is a concision and brevity in the latter that the former does not have.

Moreover, in the case of Mercy Corps, it is memorable even though it is probably grammatically incorrect for the same reason that Compassion Relief is grammatically incorrect.

As for the meaning of Compassion Relief, it is the relief that arises from compassion, and compassion that arises from relief. It goes both ways. From a simple thought of unconditional compassion -- that others who are in pain may be free from it -- we act, we offer relief, we give. Moreover, when one offers relief, compassion also arises. These are merely two sides of the same coin.

So, if you have a choice, pick Compassion Relief. It was the first translation back in the day when whoever it was gave Tzu Chi its English name (Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation), and it's still the best choice.