Run Bare-bottomed When Your Life Is on the Line

Xuefeng

I usually start work at 8:30 a.m. However, two days ago (on January 6, 2005), I had an appointment with a friend who asked for my help with a small task at the bank. We agreed to meet at 8:00 a.m. at the bank’s entrance. At 7:40 a.m., my friend called to remind me not to forget the appointment. He asked, “Are you still in bed?” Still groggy, I replied, “Yes.”

I arrived at the bank at exactly 8:00 a.m., but my friend didn’t turn up until 8:15. I asked why he was late, and he explained that he hadn’t expected me to be on time. Based on his reasoning, since I got out of bed at 7:40, I’d still need time to wash, eat, get ready, and account for at least 10 minutes of travel time. In his estimation, it was impossible for me to make it by 8:00.

My friend, a meticulous and methodical company manager, based his estimate on conventional reasoning, which seemed perfectly logical. The problem is that conventional thinking can’t account for unconventional actions. For instance, when pressed for time, I might skip breakfast. In extreme situations, I might forgo washing up. And if it were a matter of life and death, I wouldn’t hesitate to bolt out the door, stark naked if necessary.

Recently, while watching CNN, I saw footage of people frantically running during the Indian Ocean tsunami. Why were they running like mad? Because their lives were at stake. In such critical moments, there’s no room for hesitation. Every second counts, and even if you’re stark naked, you must run. A moment’s delay to tidy up, shine your shoes, or open a box to grab some cash could mean the difference between life and death. Sometimes, survival hinges on how effectively you use a single minute.

Now, imagine if someone knew about the tsunami nine hours in advance and tried to warn the people on the shore: “Run quickly! A tsunami is coming!” Would they believe it? Would they heed the warning?

Ninety-eight percent of them probably wouldn’t. Some might think, “This guy must be crazy.” Others might dismiss him as a jealous troublemaker, envious of their seaside enjoyment. Hotel owners might accuse him of stirring up trouble to hurt their business. Or maybe someone would call 110, China's emergency number, and say:” There’s someone here spreading panic, creating chaos, and disrupting order. Please send someone to take him away!"

Now, let's suppose someone knew a tsunami was coming half an hour in advance and shouted desperately, “Run! A tsunami is coming!” Think about it—how would people react?

Or suppose the rumble of the approaching wave could faintly be heard, or its towering form just barely seen. How many people would drop everything and run, bare-bottomed, without looking back?

Now let’s take it further. Suppose a cataclysmic “tsunami,” one not seen in 5,000 years, were to strike the Earth around 2013. If someone, frantic with urgency, shouted to the masses, “The tsunami is coming! Run!” would they believe it? Would they act?

Would they run bare-bottomed? Could they abandon their gold and silver treasures? Could they walk away from their cozy homes, their hard-earned status, and their power? Could they part with their spouses, concubines, and loved ones?

Here’s a brief anecdote: As I was writing this, a friend came to visit. I discussed the topic with him, asking, “What would you do if a great tsunami were to hit around 2013?” He replied without hesitation, “I’d take it one day at a time. If I die, I won’t die alone. So many people will die—what’s there to fear? Besides, if science can’t predict it, who can? Even if I wanted to escape, where would I go?”

I said, “Think of it as a game of hide-and-seek. Suppose someone had the foresight to know where safety lies. Would you listen to them? Noah prepared for 40 years before the flood. The moment the ark’s door closed, torrential rains poured down. Why not learn from Noah?”

He replied, “Building an ark requires money. Without money, how can you build one?”

I countered, “Let’s assume you don’t need money to join the ark, and it’s already nearly complete. All you need is to prepare yourself mentally and spiritually to enter. Would you step aboard?”

He brushed it off as pure nonsense and a figment of imagination. “I believe in reality, not illusions,” he said.

I said, “Fair enough. Hold on to your reality then.” (Like playing music to a cow.)

Dear readers, what is reality? Is yesterday reality? Is tomorrow reality?

I believe reality is this: When your life is on the line, don’t hesitate—just run, even bare-bottomed.