1. The document describes the author's difficult childhood living alone in Seoul, South Korea during a very cold winter. They had to pull water from a deep well using a rope that would break, freezing their hands to the chain.
2. It details how the author adopted a frugal lifestyle out of necessity, eating simple meals of rice and one side dish. They were a studious student who took their studies very seriously and asked persistent questions.
3. The author believes that with sincerity and dedication to self-improvement over the long term, one can achieve great things. They practiced public speaking to improve, and enjoy talking at length, as their grandfather did.
Small group experiment a knife not sharpened grows dull
1. A Knife Not Sharpened Grows Dull
A fter completing grammar school, I moved to Seoul and lived alone in the Heuksok
Dong neighborhood while attending the Kyongsong Institute of Commerce and Industry. The
winter in Seoul was extremely cold. It was normal for the temperature to fall to minus twenty
degrees Celsius, and when it did, the Han River would freeze over. The house where I lived
was on a ridge, and there was no running water. We drew our water from a well that was so
deep it took more than ten arm-lengths of rope for the pail to reach the water below. The rope
kept breaking, so I made a chain and attached it to the pail. Each time I brought water up,
though, my hands would freeze to the chain and I could only keep them warm by blowing on
them.
To fight the cold, I used my knitting talents. I made a sweater, thick socks, a cap, and gloves.
The hat was so stylish that when I wore it around town people would think I was a woman.
I never heated my room, even on the coldest winter days, mainly because I didn’t have the
money to do so. I also felt that having a roof over my head when I slept meant that I was
living in luxury compared to homeless people forced to find ways to keep themselves warm
on the streets. One day, it was so cold I slept while holding a light bulb against my body
under the quilt, like a hot-water bottle. During the night, I burned myself on the hot bulb,
causing some skin to peel. Even now, when someone mentions Seoul, the first thing that
comes to mind is how cold it was back then.
My meals consisted of a bowl of rice and never more than one side dish, whereas average
Korean meals include up to twelve side dishes. It was always one meal, one dish. One side
dish was enough. Even today, because of the habit I formed while living alone, I don’t need
many side dishes at my meals. I prefer to have just one side dish that is prepared well. When I
see a meal that has been prepared with many side dishes, it only seems troublesome to me. I
never ate lunch while attending school in Seoul. I became accustomed to eating just two
meals a day while roaming around the hills as a child. I continued this lifestyle until I was
nearly thirty. My time in Seoul gave me a good understanding of how much work goes into
managing a household.
I returned to Heuksok Dong in the 1980s and was surprised to find the house where I once
lived still standing. The room where I lived and the courtyard where I used to hang my
laundry were still there. I was sad to see, though, that the well where I had to blow on my
hands while pulling up pails of water was gone.
During my time in Heuksok Dong, I adopted for myself the motto, “Before seeking to
dominate the universe, first perfect your ability to dominate yourself.” This means that to
have the strength to save the nation and save the world, I first had to train my own body. I
trained myself through prayer and meditation and through sports and exercise programs. As a
result, I would not be swayed by hunger or any other emotion or desire of the physical body.
Even when I ate a meal, I would say, “Rice, I want you to become the fertilizer for the work
that I am preparing myself to do.” I learned boxing, soccer, and self-defense techniques.
Because of this, although I have gained some weight since I was young, I still have the
flexibility of a young person.
2. Kyongsong Institute of Commerce and Industry had a policy that the students would take
turns cleaning their own classrooms. In my class, I decided to clean the classroom every day
by myself. I did not do this as some kind of punishment. It was an expression of my desire
that welled up naturally from within to love the school more than anyone else. In the
beginning, others would try to help, but they could see I didn’t appreciate this and preferred to
do it alone. Eventually my classmates decided, “Go ahead. Do it by yourself.” And so the
cleaning became my job.
I was an unusually quiet student. Unlike my classmates, I didn’t engage in idle chatter, and I
would often go an entire day without speaking a word. This may have been the reason that,
although I never engaged in physical violence, my classmates treated me with respect and
were careful how they acted in my presence. If I went to the toilet and there was a line of
students waiting their turn, they would immediately let me go first. If someone had a problem,
I was frequently the one they sought out for advice.
I was very persistent in asking questions during class, and there were more than a few
teachers who were stumped by my questions. For example, when we were learning a new
formula in mathematics or physics class, I would ask, “Who made this formula? Please
explain it to us step by step so that I can understand it exactly,” and refused to back down
until I got clear answers. I was relentless with my teachers, digging deeper and deeper. I
couldn’t accept any principle in the world until I had taken it apart and figured it out for
myself. I found myself wishing I had been the person to first discover such a beautiful
formula. The stubborn character that had made me cry all night as a little boy was making its
appearance in my studies as well. Just as when I prayed, I poured myself completely into my
studies and invested my full sincerity and dedication.
Any task we do requires sincerity and dedication, and not just for a day or two. It needs to be
a continuous process. A knife used once and never sharpened turns dull. The same is true with
sincerity and dedication. We need to continue our efforts on a daily basis with the thought
that we are sharpening our blade daily. Whatever the task, if we continue the effort in this
way, we eventually reach a mystical state. If you pick up a paintbrush and focus your
sincerity and dedication on your hand and say to yourself, “A great artist will come and help
me,” and concentrate your mind, you can create a wonderful painting that will inspire the
world.
I dedicated myself to learning how to speak faster and more accurately than anyone else. I
would go into a small anteroom where no one could hear me and practice tongue-twisters out
loud. I practiced pouring out what I wanted to say very quickly. Eventually, I was able to say
ten words in the time that it took others to say just one. Even now, though I am old, I can
speak very quickly. Some say that I speak so quickly that they have difficulty understanding
me, but my heart is in such a hurry that I cannot bear to speak slowly. My mind is full of
things I want to say. How can I slow down?
In that sense, I am very much like my grandfather, who enjoyed talking with people.
Grandfather could go three or four hours talking to people in our home’s guest room,
explaining to them his views on the events of the day. I am the same way. When I am with
people and there is good communication of heart, I completely lose track of time, and I don’t
know if night is falling or if the sun is rising. The words in my heart form an unstoppable
flow. When I am like this, I don’t want to eat; I just want to talk. It’s difficult for the people
who are listening, and beads of sweat begin to appear on their foreheads. Sweat is running
down my face, too, as I continue talking, and they dare not ask to excuse themselves and
leave. We often end up staying up all night together.