Tips:
Click
to switch between English and 中文



Our understanding of the world comes from both what we can see of it and our experiences within it.
There’s a Chinese idiom: “坐(zuò)井(jǐng)观(guān)天(tiān)”, which means, in direct translation, “Looking at the sky while sitting in a well.”
Behind every idiom, there’s usually a story. The story behind “坐井观天” is about a frog that has lived in a well since birth. Its entire existence is confined to the bottom of the well; it has never left. Every day, it looks up from the bottom of the well and sees only a patch of sky through the narrow opening. Thus, the frog concludes that the sky is just that small patch. Never having ventured beyond the well’s mouth, the frog never understands the vastness of the true sky.
Upon reflection, aren’t we all living in a well of sorts? The only difference is that our well might be larger than the one in the story, but it’s still a limited world and view, more or less.
My parents worked at the university for their whole career lives. In China twenty or thirty years ago, it wasn’t just students; even staff lived in university apartments. The university wasn’t just a place for higher education; it also had middle and elementary schools and even a kindergarten. I grew up on the university campus, from elementary to middle school and eventually to college. All in all, I lived there for at least fifteen years. That university campus was my “whole world.” I remember feeling lost when I graduated because I didn’t even know the way around the city—back then, we didn’t have smartphones or electronic navigation maps. So when it came time to look for a job, I found it difficult to even navigate the city, let alone know any of the local companies and potential job opportunities. I still remember the confusion in my mind when I graduated from college, having received so much education but not even knowing what kind of work I could do. Back then, the “well” I lived in was that university campus.
In the years following my graduation from college, I stayed in the city where the university was located and lived with my parents. Because my family and loved ones were all in this city, continuing to live there seemed natural. However, it was until I had the opportunity to travel to Shanghai for work that things changed. The bustling and dynamic city, the efficient colleagues, and the fast-paced lifestyle made me realize suddenly that China had such developed and advanced places, which I had never even imagined before.
Because of that experience, I entertained the impulsion of leaving my hometown. When I finally seized an opportunity and quietly secured a job opportunity in Shanghai, I called my parents. To my surprise, my usually open-minded father’s initial reaction to my plan to work in Shanghai was, “No way!” My parents had never firmly rejected my decisions before. They might not believe I could survive on my own in the outside world. Of course, the facts later proved that my parents were still the open-minded and rational parents I knew, despite their reluctance to see me leave, they decided to support me.
Stepping out of my “well” — my hometown — opened up a whole new world for me. I learned independence, self-protection, how to build relationships, and most importantly, how to carve out my own career path step by step. I found the goal of my life. While discovering that the world is much bigger than I had ever imagined, I also discovered that there are many things I can do. Though this process of growth inevitably involved various hardships, failures, being underestimated, feeling anxious, and becoming exhausted, I underwent transformation and truly embarked on my own life journey.
Telling such a long story is to show you that without travel — not just tourism, but the act of “venturing out” — we could be all destined to live in a “well,” both geographically and psychologically, unable to see the world outside or even recognize our true selves. Life inherently holds infinite possibilities, but the ‘well’ of life limits our imagination, causing us to miss countless opportunities.
Looking back now, if I had never left my hometown, perhaps I would have remained merely “my parents’ child” at best, never truly growing up. I might have settled into a life that everyone around me was living and grown old that way. I would have only held onto a world map, living in the world of my limited imagination. Would such a life be regrettable? Maybe not, I guess, because if I had stayed in the “well,” I wouldn’t even realize that regret, let alone understand what it feels like.
As the saying goes, “The most terrifying thing in the world is ignorance.” What’s most frightening isn’t that we’re aware of our “ignorance,” but rather that we’re completely unaware of it. Just like the frog in the well, who never realizes it doesn’t even know how vast the true sky is.
Our understanding of the world comes from both what we can see of it and our experiences within it.
There’s a Chinese idiom: “坐(zuò)井(jǐng)观(guān)天(tiān)”, which means, in direct translation, “Looking at the sky while sitting in a well.”
Behind every idiom, there’s usually a story. The story behind “坐井观天” is about a frog that has lived in a well since birth. Its entire existence is confined to the bottom of the well; it has never left. Every day, it looks up from the bottom of the well and sees only a patch of sky through the narrow opening. Thus, the frog concludes that the sky is just that small patch. Never having ventured beyond the well’s mouth, the frog never understands the vastness of the true sky.
Upon reflection, aren’t we all living in a well of sorts? The only difference is that our well might be larger than the one in the story, but it’s still a limited world and view, more or less.
My parents worked at the university for their whole career lives. In China twenty or thirty years ago, it wasn’t just students; even staff lived in university apartments. The university wasn’t just a place for higher education; it also had middle and elementary schools and even a kindergarten. I grew up on the university campus, from elementary to middle school and eventually to college. All in all, I lived there for at least fifteen years. That university campus was my “whole world.” I remember feeling lost when I graduated because I didn’t even know the way around the city—back then, we didn’t have smartphones or electronic navigation maps. So when it came time to look for a job, I found it difficult to even navigate the city, let alone know any of the local companies and potential job opportunities. I still remember the confusion in my mind when I graduated from college, having received so much education but not even knowing what kind of work I could do. Back then, the “well” I lived in was that university campus.
In the years following my graduation from college, I stayed in the city where the university was located and lived with my parents. Because my family and loved ones were all in this city, continuing to live there seemed natural. However, it was until I had the opportunity to travel to Shanghai for work that things changed. The bustling and dynamic city, the efficient colleagues, and the fast-paced lifestyle made me realize suddenly that China had such developed and advanced places, which I had never even imagined before.
Because of that experience, I entertained the impulsion of leaving my hometown. When I finally seized an opportunity and quietly secured a job opportunity in Shanghai, I called my parents. To my surprise, my usually open-minded father’s initial reaction to my plan to work in Shanghai was, “No way!” My parents had never firmly rejected my decisions before. They might not believe I could survive on my own in the outside world. Of course, the facts later proved that my parents were still the open-minded and rational parents I knew, despite their reluctance to see me leave, they decided to support me.
Stepping out of my “well” — my hometown — opened up a whole new world for me. I learned independence, self-protection, how to build relationships, and most importantly, how to carve out my own career path step by step. I found the goal of my life. While discovering that the world is much bigger than I had ever imagined, I also discovered that there are many things I can do. Though this process of growth inevitably involved various hardships, failures, being underestimated, feeling anxious, and becoming exhausted, I underwent transformation and truly embarked on my own life journey.
Telling such a long story is to show you that without travel — not just tourism, but the act of “venturing out” — we could be all destined to live in a “well,” both geographically and psychologically, unable to see the world outside or even recognize our true selves. Life inherently holds infinite possibilities, but the ‘well’ of life limits our imagination, causing us to miss countless opportunities.
Looking back now, if I had never left my hometown, perhaps I would have remained merely “my parents’ child” at best, never truly growing up. I might have settled into a life that everyone around me was living and grown old that way. I would have only held onto a world map, living in the world of my limited imagination. Would such a life be regrettable? Maybe not, I guess, because if I had stayed in the “well,” I wouldn’t even realize that regret, let alone understand what it feels like.
As the saying goes, “The most terrifying thing in the world is ignorance.” What’s most frightening isn’t that we’re aware of our “ignorance,” but rather that we’re completely unaware of it. Just like the frog in the well, who never realizes it doesn’t even know how vast the true sky is.
Our understanding of the world comes from both what we can see of it and our experiences within it.
There’s a Chinese idiom: “坐(zuò)井(jǐng)观(guān)天(tiān)”, which means, in direct translation, “Looking at the sky while sitting in a well.”
Behind every idiom, there’s usually a story. The story behind “坐井观天” is about a frog that has lived in a well since birth. Its entire existence is confined to the bottom of the well; it has never left. Every day, it looks up from the bottom of the well and sees only a patch of sky through the narrow opening. Thus, the frog concludes that the sky is just that small patch. Never having ventured beyond the well’s mouth, the frog never understands the vastness of the true sky.
Upon reflection, aren’t we all living in a well of sorts? The only difference is that our well might be larger than the one in the story, but it’s still a limited world and view, more or less.
My parents worked at the university for their whole career lives. In China twenty or thirty years ago, it wasn’t just students; even staff lived in university apartments. The university wasn’t just a place for higher education; it also had middle and elementary schools and even a kindergarten. I grew up on the university campus, from elementary to middle school and eventually to college. All in all, I lived there for at least fifteen years. That university campus was my “whole world.” I remember feeling lost when I graduated because I didn’t even know the way around the city—back then, we didn’t have smartphones or electronic navigation maps. So when it came time to look for a job, I found it difficult to even navigate the city, let alone know any of the local companies and potential job opportunities. I still remember the confusion in my mind when I graduated from college, having received so much education but not even knowing what kind of work I could do. Back then, the “well” I lived in was that university campus.
In the years following my graduation from college, I stayed in the city where the university was located and lived with my parents. Because my family and loved ones were all in this city, continuing to live there seemed natural. However, it was until I had the opportunity to travel to Shanghai for work that things changed. The bustling and dynamic city, the efficient colleagues, and the fast-paced lifestyle made me realize suddenly that China had such developed and advanced places, which I had never even imagined before.
Because of that experience, I entertained the impulsion of leaving my hometown. When I finally seized an opportunity and quietly secured a job opportunity in Shanghai, I called my parents. To my surprise, my usually open-minded father’s initial reaction to my plan to work in Shanghai was, “No way!” My parents had never firmly rejected my decisions before. They might not believe I could survive on my own in the outside world. Of course, the facts later proved that my parents were still the open-minded and rational parents I knew, despite their reluctance to see me leave, they decided to support me.
Stepping out of my “well” — my hometown — opened up a whole new world for me. I learned independence, self-protection, how to build relationships, and most importantly, how to carve out my own career path step by step. I found the goal of my life. While discovering that the world is much bigger than I had ever imagined, I also discovered that there are many things I can do. Though this process of growth inevitably involved various hardships, failures, being underestimated, feeling anxious, and becoming exhausted, I underwent transformation and truly embarked on my own life journey.
Telling such a long story is to show you that without travel — not just tourism, but the act of “venturing out” — we could be all destined to live in a “well,” both geographically and psychologically, unable to see the world outside or even recognize our true selves. Life inherently holds infinite possibilities, but the ‘well’ of life limits our imagination, causing us to miss countless opportunities.
Looking back now, if I had never left my hometown, perhaps I would have remained merely “my parents’ child” at best, never truly growing up. I might have settled into a life that everyone around me was living and grown old that way. I would have only held onto a world map, living in the world of my limited imagination. Would such a life be regrettable? Maybe not, I guess, because if I had stayed in the “well,” I wouldn’t even realize that regret, let alone understand what it feels like.
As the saying goes, “The most terrifying thing in the world is ignorance.” What’s most frightening isn’t that we’re aware of our “ignorance,” but rather that we’re completely unaware of it. Just like the frog in the well, who never realizes it doesn’t even know how vast the true sky is.