This past Friday, my second Beijing Weekend column ran in China Daily.  The web page publication is here.  I am also going to copy the text below the jump of this post, for anyone who is interested.  I did not post last weeks column because it was largely an introduction to my interest in finding contemporary meaning of ancient Chinese texts, something that readers of this site are already well aware of. 

How much is enough for our loved ones?
By Sam Crane(China Daily)
Updated: 2006-07-21 10:02

My
aunt is in a nursing home. It is not surprising; she is 75 and has a
long history of medical problems. But it poses a difficult question for
me: how much of my time each day is enough to fulfil my obligation for
her care?

I am the person most responsible for her. She has no
children. After a medical crisis three years ago, I stepped in to
oversee her financial affairs: the sale of her house; her move to a new
home; the balance of her bank accounts. My mother, her sister, died
last year. My sister, who lives with her, cannot manage the demands of
her medical troubles. There are no other immediate family members. It
is left to me to say that she requires the constant attention provided
by the nursing home; it is my determination that keeps her there.

So,
almost every day, I take the short ride to the edge of town to sit with
her. If the weather is good, I roll her wheelchair out to the sunlit
porch. At meal-time, I help with her food. Sometimes I bring along a
little snack: she especially likes the fresh cherries this time of year.

I stay only for about an hour. Then, I take my leave and return to my wife and daughter, my work at home and in the office.

On
one level, I know that her being there is best for her but I worry that
I may not be doing enough for her. How much of my time and care is
sufficient?

It is questions and situations like this one that lead me back to Confucius.

Were
she my mother, I know that Confucian ethics would demand more of me:
caring for parents is traditionally the pre-eminent obligation. And not
just going through the motions. Care must be motivated by genuine
affection, as Confucius himself wrote: "These days, being a worthy
child just means keeping parents well-fed. That’s what we do for dogs
and horses. Everyone can feed their parents – but without reverence,
they may as well be feeding animals." (Analects 2.7).

Ouch. That hurts. Am I merely giving my aunt the kind of attention I give to my cat?

It
is tempting to say to myself that, since she is not my mother, I do not
owe her the level of commitment a parent is due but that does not get
me off the Confucian hook. He would tell me that my duty carries over
to respect for elders more generally; and the concrete family tie of
aunt and nephew, especially in her current circumstances, demands a
certain responsibility of me.

I am left, then, with my sense of
inadequacy. Between my work and other family obligations, I cannot give
more time to my aunt. It reminds me of how difficult it is to be a
Confucian, which I do not pretend to be. For me, the ancient thinker is
a provider of ethical ideas and suggestions, not an absolute arbiter of
right and wrong.

In the end, I find myself returning to Zhuang
Zi, who tells me that if I act unselfishly I will ultimately recognize
the limits of what is possible: " if you forget about yourself and
always do what circumstances require of you Then you do what you can,
and whatever happens is fine."

We must care for our loved ones but, in doing so, we must also accept what we cannot do. Maybe that is enough.