Human Perception of Life

By Zhuang Zefeng

Introduction:

I often think: if the poet Hai Zi had truly understood life, he would not have chosen death. Instead, he would have genuinely lived the words “facing the sea, with spring flowers blossoming”—chopping wood, feeding horses, and traveling the world. As Adler said in Understanding Human Nature, a healthy person is one who “follows social rules and enjoys life.” Obviously, this “enjoyment” does not mean a life of indulgence and extravagance, but rather a person’s perception of life and of living. Only by truly living do we come to know what life is.

Modern people cannot live without everyday necessities, which shows just how important they are—yet we take them for granted. Like air and water, their constant presence has made us overlook their significance.

A person wakes up in the morning, glances at the clock on the table or checks the time on a phone, and then walks to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, he sees his sleepy face in the mirror. He picks up a cup, toothbrush, and toothpaste. He fills the cup with water, squeezes toothpaste onto the brush, and begins brushing his teeth. Afterward, he takes a face towel, wets and wrings it, and then washes his face.

Once he has brushed his teeth and washed his face, he picks up a comb and smooths his hair before the mirror.

This process takes less than ten minutes, yet the objects involved include a clock, phone, mirror, cup, toothbrush, toothpaste, faucet, towel, and comb. Women may also use facial cleansers or skincare products.

Here, I am speaking only of the basic necessities of daily life. In modern living, without toothbrush and toothpaste for oral hygiene or a towel for washing, the whole day would feel uncomfortable. It is only after brushing, washing, and combing—seeing a refreshed self in the mirror—that we truly begin the new day.

Clearly, these everyday items are not naturally occurring, but the crystallization of human wisdom, born from centuries or even millennia of problem-solving. Indeed, these seemingly ordinary objects are products of civilization itself, woven into the very fabric of our lives and becoming “unconscious necessities.” The clock disciplines our time, the phone connects us to the world, the mirror reflects our self, and tap water is the result of modern civil engineering. Toothbrushes, toothpaste, and towels embody an entire set of hygiene, health, and social etiquette values of modern civilization.

This seemingly simple routine is, in fact, a carefully designed ritual. When we finally see in the mirror a “refreshed self”—that satisfying reflection is shaped by the cooperation of these objects. They give us the confidence to face a new day. Their greatness lies precisely in their “invisibility.” We never think of hydraulic engineering when turning on the faucet, nor do we thank the inventor of toothpaste while brushing. Their very ordinariness is the highest sign of their success.

At that moment, we realize: the comfort and convenience of modern life rest upon these daily necessities.

After washing, we need breakfast. Even the simplest meal—say, porridge—requires rice, a pot, water, gas, and a stove. Once cooked, we use a bowl, spoon, and chopsticks, and a plate for side dishes. We sit at a table to eat, not standing or crouching. Even a bowl of plain porridge reflects millennia of accumulated human technology. Rice itself is the result of generations of careful cultivation—an extravagance unique to humankind in nature.

Sometimes we replace porridge with soy milk, milk, or cereal, paired with steamed buns, fried dough, or bread. Even this simple breakfast offers multiple choices—not to mention lunch or dinner. And yet, we often find ourselves saying, “I don’t know what to eat.” This is almost comical: in a consumer society of endless abundance, we have countless choices but cannot decide what to eat. This, too, reveals the complexity of human nature.

Surveys show that more than 80% of young people cite “lack of time” as the main reason for skipping breakfast. Why “lack of time”? Because they rush off to work. For most of us, work is the means of survival. In today’s fast-paced society, we have many transportation options: bus, subway, shared bike, ride-hailing car, or private car. These means of transport have become part of daily life—without them, modern society could not function.

Still, before leaving the house, we must get dressed—underwear, shirts, pants, socks, shoes, a backpack. Those with poor eyesight wear glasses. And of course, the phone—now indispensable. We use it for payments, our salaries are deposited into its balance, and many of us barely touch cash anymore. Driven by the momentum of this rapidly changing world, we seldom pause to reflect on the meaning of life. Even the very objects we use every day go unnoticed.

Much of life has been embedded into systems and platforms. From workplace task allocation to algorithmic recommendations, systems analyze our data and set the rules. This convenience also makes us passive, less free, less motivated to think independently. Many people feel life “pushes” them forward. Repetition breeds a sense of “learned helplessness,” like Sisyphus endlessly pushing his stone—suffering but unwilling to change, because change requires greater effort. We say, “I have no choice,” yet sometimes we enjoy this passivity—it feels safer than admitting laziness or facing the risk of choosing. Meanwhile, social media, advertising, peer opinions and expectations constantly bombard us, eroding independent thought. Many drift blindly along, losing sight of their true needs.

Not knowing what one really wants, people mechanically follow the “right” path prescribed by others. This lack of perception of life makes us easily distracted by trivialities, stuck in passive cycles. That is why I believe perception of real life begins with attention to daily necessities. Brushing teeth, eating porridge or bread, putting on socks and shoes, adjusting glasses, boarding a bus or bike—these are tangible acts of living. When we notice them, life becomes richer.

Perhaps life’s meaning is not in distant goals, but embedded in every reachable moment, every object, every breath. Fulfillment comes not from how much we do, but from how much we experience. Perceiving daily necessities brings a gentle yet powerful strength—because we have given life personal meaning. Someone may feel joy in washing dishes after a meal. Someone may delight in seeing their adorned self in the mirror. These are all perceptions of life’s details.

In my sci-fi novel We Float in Space (Douban), I described modern people’s numb addiction to phones and the internet. I called them “gods,” living in spiritual worlds detached from reality. In my essay The Three Attributes of Human Nature, I outlined humanity’s natural, social, and spiritual attributes, which together constitute our complex nature. Yet these “gods” confine attention, emotion, and thought to the tiny screen, interacting intensely with digital information. This is the spiritual attribute pushed to an extreme, isolated in virtual space.

Though the internet enables social contact, addiction to the virtual weakens real-world interactions. The social attribute—our genuine relations in society—fades. Meanwhile, the natural attribute—our biological needs for rest, activity, and nature—is suppressed. This imbalance creates a “suspended existence”: the spirit floats in cyberspace, while body and social ties are sidelined. To restore balance among the three attributes, we must reconnect with real life. And modern perception of life begins with attention to daily necessities.

By perceiving daily necessities—not just consuming them—we anchor ourselves, reconnect with the physical world, with others, and with our deeper needs. These overlooked objects are practical tools against “suspended existence,” guiding us back to balance. To truly enjoy life, we must first learn to perceive it.