1 . All I needed to do to earn the two dollars was to clean her house for a few hours after school. It was a beautiful house with things that were common in her neighborhood, absent in mine.

Working for her brought me a sense of pride, not only because I could immerse myself in little luxuries like movies and candy, but also because I contributed half of my earnings to my mother, ensuring they were used for necessities. I was not like the children in folktales: burdensome mouths to feed, problems so severe that they were abandoned to the forest. I had a status that doing routine chores in my house did not provide — and it earned me a slow smile and confirmations that I was adult-like, not childlike.

Little by little, I got better at cleaning her house — good enough to be given more to do. After struggling to move the piano, my limbs ached terribly. Despite wanting to decline or voice my discomfort, I feared losing my job and the independence and respect it afforded me. She began to offer me her clothes, for a price. Impressed by these worn things, which looked simply elegant to a little girl who had only two dresses to wear to school, I bought a few.

Still, I had trouble summoning up (鼓起) the courage to object to the increasing demands she made. Despite feeling overwhelmed, I hesitated to voice my concerns, knowing my mother would urge me to quit. However, one day while alone in the kitchen with my father, I expressed my disappointment. In any case, he put down his cup of coffee and said, “Whatever the work is, do it well — not for the boss but for yourself. You make the job; it doesn’t make you. You are not the work you do; you are the person you are.”

I have worked for all sorts of people since then, geniuses and fools, quick-witted and dull, big-hearted and narrow. I’ve had many kinds of jobs, but since that conversation with my father, I have never considered the level of labor to be the measure of myself, and I have never placed the security of a job above my self-worth and family value.

2 . Do I think the sky is falling? Sort of.

My husband and I were recently in Egypt, where the temperature was a bit warm for my tiny princess self. So, we left Egypt. Back home, my dearest friends struggled with health stuff, with family craziness…

The game of life is hard, and a lot of us are playing hurt.

I ache for the world but naturally I’m mostly watching the Me Movie, where balance and strength are beginning to fail. What can we do as the creaking elevator of age slowly arrives? The main solution is to get outside every day, ideally with friends. Old friends even thoughts of them-are my comfort.

Recently I was walking along a beach with Neshama. We go back 50 years. She is 84, short and strong. Every so often, she bent down somewhat tentatively (踌躇地) and picked up small items into a small cloth bag. “What are you doing?”

“I’m picking up micro litter. I try to help where I can.”

I reminded her of an old story. A great warhorse comes upon a tiny sparrow (麻雀) lying on its back with its feet in the air, eyes tightly shut with effort. The horse asks it what it’s doing.

“I’m trying to help hold back the darkness.”

The horse laughs loudly, “That is so funny. What do you weigh?”

And the sparrow replies, “One does what one can.”

This is what older age means. We do what we can.

We continued our walk. Neshama bent tentatively to pick up bits of litter and started to slip, but I caught her and we laughed. We are so physically weak in older age, but friendship makes it all a rowing machine for the soul. We can take it, as long as we feel and give love, and laugh gently at ourselves as we fall apart. We know by a certain age the great lies in our life—if you do or achieve this or that, you will be happy and rich. Love and service make us rich.

4 . After years of observing human nature, I have decided that two qualities make the difference between men of great achievement and men of average performance curiosity and discontent. I have never known an outstanding man who lacked either. And I have never known an average man who had both. The two belong together.

Together, these deep human urges (驱策力) count for much more that ambition. Galileo was not merely ambitious when he dropped objects of varying weights from the Leaning Tower at Pisa and timed their fall to the ground. Like Galileo, all the great names in history were curious and asked in discontent,“Why? Why? Why?”

Fortunately, curiosity and discontent don’t have to be learned. We are born with them and need only recapture them.

“The great man,” said Mencius (孟子), “is he who does not lose his child’s heart.” Yet most of us do lose it. We stop asking questions. We stop challenging custom. We just follow the crowd. And the crowd desires restful average. It encourages us to occupy our own little corner, to avoid foolish leaps into the dark, to be satisfied.

Most of us meet new people, and new ideas, with hesitation. But once having met and liked them, we think how terrible it would have been, had we missed the chance. We will probably have to force ourselves to waken our curiosity and discontent and keep them awake.

How should you start? Modestly, so as not to become discouraged. I think of one friend who couldn’t arrange flowers to satisfy herself. She was curious about how the experts did it. How she is one of the experts, writing books on flower arrangement.

One way to begin is to answer your own excuses. You haven’t any special ability? Most people don’t; there are only a few geniuses. You haven’t any time? That’s good, because it’s always the people with no time who get things done. Harriet Stowe, mother of six, wrote parts of Uncle Tom’s Cabin while cooking. You’re too old? Remember that Thomas Costain was 57 when he published his first novel, and that Grandma Moses showed her first pictures when she was 78.

However you start, remember there is no better time to start than right now, for you’ll never be more alive than you are at this moment.

7 . There was a man playing the piano in a bar. He was a good piano player and always performed in this bar. People came in just to hear him play. But one night, a customer told him that he didn’t want to hear him just play the piano any more. He wanted him to sing a song.

The man said, “I don’t sing.”

But the customer was persistent. He told the bar manager, “I’m tired of listening to the piano. I want that man to sing!”

The manager shouted across the room, “If you want to get paid, sing a song. Our customers are asking you to sing!”

So he did. He sang a song. A piano player who had never sung in public did so for the first time. And everyone was surprised by his song Mona Lisa. He got lots of applause that night.

He had such a talent for singing, but he just had been sitting on his talent for the past years! If without such an opportunity, he might have lived the rest of his life as a no-name piano player in a no-name bar. However, now he has become one of the best known singers in America.

You, too, have skills and abilities. Maybe your “talent” is not as great as the singer’s above, but it may be better than you think! And with effort, most skills can be improved. So, in your life, you should be brave enough to try doing different things and find out what talents you really have!

8 . Setting goals is common in our life. We look ahead, predict what may make us happy in the future, and then narrow down the things to something specific. For the most part, having goals is better than not having any, but there are also problems that come with spending an entire life living from goal to goal.

For one thing, we attempt to predict an unpredictable future. Who is to say that what you want next year is the same thing you want right now? What if what you want right now isn’t in the right direction over the long term?

Secondly, and just as importantly, you only confine your expectations of happiness and satisfaction to the goal you have set so that you often forget that other things in your life can also add just as much joy to your experience. This creates a strange conflict.

To solve this conflict, we have to move towards something more vague (模糊的). Going after interestingness, I think is what we should do. It’s vague enough to be honest about the unpredictability of the future.

Interestingness isn’t hedonism (快乐主义). It’s deeper than that. It’s taking on that random project you had no plan to take on because you have a feeling that you might just learn something you didn’t know about yourself. It’s seeing a person you just met not as a potential partner or someone who can do something for you but simply as someone who may open a new, unknown and unique world for you. Goals incorrectly assume that we already know what we want. Interestingness is more modest. It makes up its mind as it moves, slowly blowing from one thing to another, until it eventually grasps something that lies beyond prediction.

9 . Climbing, I once thought, was a very manly activity, but as I found my way into this activity, I came to see that something quite different happens on the rock.

Like wild swimming, rock climbing involves you into the landscape. On the rock, I am fully focused. Eyes pay close attention, ears are alert, and hands move across the surface. Unlike walking, where I could happily wander about absent-mindedly, in climbing, attentive observation is essential.

As an arts student studying English literature, I discovered a new type of reading from outdoor climbing. Going out on to the crags (悬崖), I saw how you could learn to read the rocks and develop a vocabulary of physical movements. Good climbers knew how to adjust their bodies on to the stone. Watching them, I wanted to possess that skillful “language”.

My progress happened when I worked for the Caingorms National Park Authority.Guiding my explorations into this strange new landscape was Nan Shepherd, a lady too. Unlike the goal-directed mindset of many mountaineers, she is not concerned with peaks or personal achievement. Shepherd sees the mountain as a total environment and she celebrates the Caingorms as a place alive with plants, rocks, animals and elements. Through her generous spirit and my own curiosity, I saw that rock climbing need not be a process of testing oneself against anything. Rather, the intensity of focus could develop a person into another way of being.

Spending so much time in high and st ony places has transformed my view on the world and our place in it. I have come into physical contact with processes that go way beyond the everyday. Working with gravity, geology (地质学), rhythms of weather and deep time, I gain an actual relationship with the earth. This bond lies at the heart of my passion for rock climbing. I return to the rocks, because this is where I feel in contact with our land.