Seven Parts of Life Go Against Our Wishes, Clinging Only Deepens the Suffering

Someone once said that in life, out of ten things, seven will not go as we wish. At first hearing, the sentence sounds pessimistic, but if we reflect more carefully, it is a gentle truth. It is not meant to extinguish hope, but to help people stop wrestling with what lies beyond their control. When we stubbornly cling to what cannot be held, the heart grows heavy. When we learn to let go, the mind opens like the sky after rain.

Human life rarely moves in a straight line. There are smooth stretches, winding bends, and steep slopes that seem impossible to climb. We may choose our path, but we cannot choose all the winds and storms along the way. Sometimes we try our very best, yet the result still turns in another direction. That sense of helplessness easily gives rise to frustration. We blame ourselves for not being good enough, or blame life for being unfair. Yet it is precisely in such moments that the lesson of letting go begins to take shape.

The elders of our nation spoke often about impermanence and inner ease. Nguyễn Du once wrote of how people suffer because emotion and fate intertwine, and the tighter one grasps, the deeper the pain. He saw clearly the fragile condition of human life amid constant change, and responded with compassion rather than resentment. That perspective does not push people into resignation, but helps them soften in the face of turbulence.

Nguyễn Bỉnh Khiêm chose a different path. He left the world of officialdom and returned to a simple life, preserving a mind unentangled by fame and profit. In his poetry we find the spirit of knowing sufficiency and knowing when to stop. When the heart desires less, things that go against our wishes lose much of their power to shake us. It is not that life becomes easier, but that the mind becomes steadier.

There are many things in life that are simply beyond our control. We do not choose where we are born, our starting circumstances, or the sudden upheavals that may come. A healthy person today may fall ill tomorrow. Someone moving smoothly may suddenly face failure. If we insist that everything must conform to our will, it is like demanding that a river flow backward. That resistance only exhausts us.

Yet being unable to control our circumstances does not mean our hearts must drift helplessly as well. Here the wisdom of the ancients shines. Trần Nhân Tông, after experiencing war and the throne, turned toward spiritual cultivation. His thought emphasized returning to illuminate the inner self. When the mind is at peace, even a turbulent world feels less violent. When the mind is chaotic, even comfort feels like suffering.

Real life makes this clear. Some people can smile amid storms, seeing hardship as simply part of the journey. Others, surrounded by material comfort, still feel constant dissatisfaction. The difference lies not in circumstances, but in perspective. If we see adversity as the end of everything, we fall into despair. If we see it as just one stretch of road, we patiently keep walking.

Letting go does not mean abandoning effort. It means no longer tying ourselves in knots over what has already passed, no longer tormenting ourselves over what cannot be changed. We still live, still act, still strive, but we do not let outcomes completely dictate our joy or sorrow. Like a farmer who sows and tends with care, we leave rain and sunshine to heaven and earth.

In folk sayings, our ancestors often reminded us of this truth. The idea that when the cart reaches the mountain there will be a road is not meant to encourage passivity, but to help us remain calm in confusion. When the mind panics, we make poor choices. When the mind is still, clarity emerges and the path gradually reveals itself.

Much of human suffering does not come directly from events, but from our attachment to how events ought to unfold. We expect others to understand us completely, life to be perfectly fair, and effort to always be rewarded in exact proportion. When reality deviates from expectation, we hurt. The more we calculate, the more exhausted we become. The more we cling, the more we suffer.

Nguyễn Trãi endured great injustices in his lifetime. Yet in his surviving writings, we still find a heart inclined toward harmony, righteousness, and inner purity. He understood that fame and gain eventually dissolve, and only benevolence and a tranquil mind stay with us for long.

Living in a world where so many things go against our wishes, it is easy to become pessimistic. But the ancients often urged us to look beyond a single chapter of life. A failure today does not mean failure for a lifetime. A door that closes may open another path we never imagined. If we deny ourselves because of one stumble, we shut away many future opportunities with our own hands.

Time, too, is a quiet teacher. Sorrows that once felt impossible to bear may, a few years later, become only a faint memory. What lightens us is not that the past has changed, but that our hearts have changed. When we understand this, we fear less the pain we are currently enduring. We know that it, too, will pass.

Knowing how to let go also allows us to live more kindly with ourselves. We stop forcing ourselves to be perfect in everyone’s eyes. We accept that there are moments of weakness and times of mistake. Compassion toward ourselves opens the door to compassion toward others. When we understand that we, too, have felt helpless, we more easily empathize with the clumsiness of those beside us.

Life is not a sequence of endurance tests, but a journey of finding meaning amid imperfection. It is precisely the lacks and the disappointments that give depth to our existence. If everything were smooth and flawless, we might never learn patience, love, or resilience.

Thus the saying that seven out of ten things will not go as we wish is not a complaint, but a reminder. It reminds us not to demand that life bend entirely to our desires. It reminds us to return first to caring for our own minds. When the heart is wide enough, things that go against our wishes become only small ripples on the surface of a vast lake.

In the end, what we can hold most firmly is not circumstance, but our attitude toward living. Between gain and loss, victory and defeat, if we can preserve calmness, we have already won half the battle. The rest can be entrusted to time and quiet effort. When the heart is no longer stubbornly attached, we finally walk lightly through a world full of change.