One of the reasons for writing is to convey similarities between people regardless of their faith, origin (where they live), and trying to understand how people develop and believe what defines who they are now. When I founded the Kongdan Foundation, the goal was to highlight the similarities among people and demonstrate that our differences aren’t contradictions but reflections of our shared humanity. Learning to appreciate and understand who we are and from where we come shapes the journey we take.
I often think about the concept of “suspending disbelief”, opening ourselves up to possibilities that might not match our current expectations for the future. Suspension of disbelief is seen as the avoidance of critical thinking and logic in understanding something that is unreal or impossible in reality, in order to believe it for the sake of enjoying its narrative, or that may describe the worthiness of an alternate route we might take. It’s about questioning what we believe we know and embracing the courage to explore the unknown.
In effect, adapting our mind to change. Over the centuries, this has 
always been the key to growth. While the outcome remains uncertain, preparing us for the changes ahead becomes crucial.
This key historical concept is what sparked our transformation over time, leading to the development of the yin-yang philosophy, the I Ching. and what followed. Lieh Tzu and others believed that our lives are shaped by nature, both human nature and the environment that sustains us.
Exploring and overcoming the fear of the unknown feels like an essential part of being human, pushing us not to settle for less than our true potential. To what we are exploring as commentary in this chapter of “My travels with Lieh Tzu”. It fuels our efforts in space exploration, like the Hubble telescope looking into the cosmos, and advancements in 
genetic research and medicine to improve our lives.
They transcend politics and religion, guiding us to treat one another with mutual respect for something we may not fully understand but should recognize as true. It reflects our faith in what can be seen as eternal renewal.
How can we cultivate a sense of balance to recognize the underlying patterns in things? One of my favorite aspects of observing changes in my garden is witnessing the transformation that unfolds during the season, revealing their deeper nature. Perennials bloom at specific times in late spring, summer, and fall, following patterns rooted in their nature, highlighting an interdependence essential for survival. Similarly, I think we too share a basic trait of adapting to patterns through our education and experiences when given the chance and opportunity to so.
We all have unique abilities and traits just waiting to be uncovered and built upon. The key is knowing how to adapt, build upon, and improve these natural talents. That’s why education and finding a role in life that allows us to reach our full potential, while also helping others achieve theirs, is so important. It’s the journey of learning that guides us on this path of self-discovery.
My travels with Lieh Tzu / Interpolations along the Way
Chapter Five – The Questions of T’ang
77. Chasing the Daylights
Kua Fu was boastful of strengths he perceived as more than all other things. Chasing 
the daylights to the brink of Yu Yuan valley where the setting sun rests each night.
Holding to an unquestionable thirst he drank the Yellow River and the Wei. Still wanting more he ran northward intending to drink the Great Marsh. But died of thirst on the road before reaching it. The staff he was carrying soaked up what was left of him and grew into the great Tang Forest that eventually covered several thousand miles.
What could this thirst have been? Why was it to consume him and be all‑consuming. Could it have been that this man saw more in himself than was really there? Or that he failed to see all that he already possessed? 4/19/95
Number seventy-seven of one hundred fifty-eight entries.
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