Tissues on the Dining Table

Tissues on the Dining Table, and Haizi’s Poetry

By Zhuang Zefeng

While eating lunch, I happened to notice the tissues on the dining table. Printed on the package were the words: “Take dreams as your horse, live up to your youth.” I found it intriguing. A pack of tissues—carrying the poetry of Haizi! This is where ideals collide with reality, where spirit leaves its imprint upon the material. As Haizi wrote in Take Dreams as Horses: “I want to be the loyal son of the distant land, and the fleeting lover of material things.” And now, his verse is literally printed on a tissue pack—becoming “the fleeting lover of material things.” In doing so, his poetic spirit finds yet another way to reach people.

In Human Perception of Life, I also spoke about Haizi. I have always thought: if Haizi had not sunk so deeply into his own spiritual world, but instead had truly followed his heart, as in his lines “Facing the sea, with spring blossoms”, to sense and embrace the reality of life, perhaps he might not have chosen death. It is like Lu Xun’s character Kong Yiji—had he shed his tattered, foul long robe and put on a short jacket, he might still have managed to go on living. But both were shackled by chains of the spirit, imprisoning themselves within the cages of their own thoughts. Perhaps Kong Yiji’s survival was nothing more than a numb instinct, while Haizi’s suicide was a conscious offering of spirit. But then—so what?

We often believe that the distant horizon (the ideal) is beautiful, while what lies before us (the real) is but meager survival. Yet if I finish my meal without this pack of tissues on the table, I would be left with greasy lips, making me uncomfortable and unbecoming. This tissue pack, printed with “Take dreams as your horse”, serves its true mission only after I have fulfilled the basic act of survival—eating—by restoring my cleanliness and dignity.

Thus, perhaps the highest ideal is not to escape reality, but to illuminate it. This pack of tissues, adorned with verse, is a tender incision where ideals shine into the everyday. We need not choose between “living ignobly” and “dying heroically.” There is another way: to let spiritual pursuit infuse the trivialities of life with meaning, while allowing material satisfactions to become vessels that carry the spirit. Perhaps the truest form of “taking dreams as your horse” is not charging on horseback toward a distant sun, but weaving dreams into the warp and weft of daily life, so that every ordinary moment carries the possibility of transcending the ordinary.

As I wrote in Human Perception of Life: it is through our perception of everyday objects—not merely through consuming them—that we anchor ourselves, reestablishing connections with the physical world, with others, and with the deeper needs of the self. These unnoticed objects of daily life are, in fact, practical tools for resisting the “floating” state of disconnection, and for pursuing balance among the three attributes: nature, society, and spirit. To enjoy life, we must first possess the ability to perceive it.

If we think more deeply, we will find that almost every household item carries social relations within it. They may have been purchased by family, gifted by friends, or produced through the labor of countless strangers working together. To perceive them is to perceive the social networks and emotional bonds behind them. This tissue pack, printed with Haizi’s poetry, links me to Haizi, and also to the product manager who decided to print those words. It is a silent dialogue across time and space. The “causal relationship” of this verse has long since surpassed the connection between the poem and the tissue pack—it has scattered into countless homes, offering people a wordless revelation. It is both poetry and commodity—without resorting to extremes, it still serves life in the most tangible way.

The manifestation of human spirit does not always need to confront reality in tragic opposition. It can also learn to dance with reality, even borrowing its strength to amplify its own voice. What we need is a wisdom that transcends binary oppositions. We need not choose between being the “martyr-poet” or the “numb consumer.” We can become perceivers of life—those who can appreciate the purity of Haizi’s spirit, while also embracing the quiet beauty brought by a tissue pack imprinted with his words.