Echoes of silence, looking back at the original intention
Cheng Han stood in the empty memorial hall of the old office, his fingertips lightly tracing the slumped sofa. Time here seemed frozen in time twenty-five years ago—Mo Xiaoyu's handwritten words "Healing Psychology" on the wall were still clear, the scattered papers on the desk remained as they were, and even the power light on the old computer was still on, like a heart that refused to extinguish.
It's been six months since the launch of the "system-wide intervention" program, and the foundation's impact has expanded to unprecedented proportions. Yet, Cheng Han feels an inexplicable emptiness. This afternoon, during negotiations with World Bank representatives, he was struck speechless when they proposed packaging the foundation's model as a "mental health solution" for global rollout.
When the mission becomes a commodity, the original intention becomes the first price to be forgotten.
Meanwhile, the other three Secretaries-General faced similar dilemmas. During a conversation with Sámi elders in the Arctic Circle, Nila was asked, "You're helping so many people now, but do you remember why you first started helping that one person?" Luca, during a policy debate in Brussels, found himself discussing budget allocations more than spiritual needs. Kadir, on the other hand, observed that grassroots communities were beginning to view the foundation as a "resource provider" rather than a "companion."
This feeling of alienation reached a peak during a Thursday management meeting. While the team was discussing how to optimize the KPI system for global projects, Cheng Han suddenly interrupted the meeting.
"Have we gone too far?" his question silenced the room. "From the point where we only cared about what the person in front of us needed, I mean."
That night, Cheng Han went to the memorial hall alone. To his surprise, Li Xiaoyu was sitting on the old sofa, reading a yellowed notebook under the light of a desk lamp.
"I knew you'd come," Li Xiaoyu said with a smile, patting the seat next to her. "Sit down. This sofa has seen far more difficult times than this."
Sometimes, the best way to move forward is to allow yourself to step back for a while.
Cheng Han shared his confusion: confusion about scale, confusion about influence, and original intention that gradually became blurred in systematic operations.
Li Xiaoyu didn't answer directly, but instead flipped through her notes—that was the foundation's first case study. In 1999, a boy, autistic due to school bullying, found his courage again after three months of companionship with Mo Xiaoyu.
"Do you know where this child is now?" Li Xiaoyu asked softly. "He's a special education teacher and won the National Model Teacher Award last year. And the kid who bullied him back then, with his help, became a volunteer against school bullying."
She closed her notebook. "We often forget that the ultimate goal of systemic change is to enable more stories like this to happen," she said. "But in that process, we should never forget to value every individual."
After this conversation, Cheng Han made an unexpected decision: He suggested that the four secretaries-general temporarily put aside their current work and conduct a week-long "reflection on their original aspirations."
Nila returned to the site of her first overseas project, the Kibera slum in Kenya. Seven years earlier, she had established the first community psychological support group there. To her amazement, the group members were still active and had expanded the model to three neighboring communities.
"What you taught us wasn't just a method," her former team leader told her, "but a belief—that everyone deserves to be heard."
Luca visited the foundation's earliest partner, lawyer Van der Velde, who had retired but had opened a small studio in the garden to provide free legal advice to immigrants.
"Remember?" the old man said with a smile. "You said back then that the law should protect the health of the mind, not just the rights of property. That sentence changed my career."
Kadier chose to return to Yunling Village. Shitou, now the director of the "Indigenous Healing Center," took Kadier to see the newly opened "Spiritual Trail" in the back mountains.
"You said back then that the best healing comes from within one's own culture," Shitou said. "We've always remembered that."
The original intention is not a lost item that needs to be found, but a starting point that needs to be constantly re-recognized.
When the four reunited, each with their own insights, they did not immediately return to global affairs. Instead, they held a special "silent workshop" in the memorial hall - reading early case records, watching precious interview videos, and even re-enacting classic cases from the Foundation's early days.
In this process, some important insights gradually became clear:
First of all, systematization is not the problem; the problem is losing focus on people in the process of systematization.
Secondly, influence is not a goal, but a natural result of better serving individuals.
Most importantly, specialization should not lead to alienation, but should make help more effective.
Based on these reflections, the team developed a "Guarding the Original Aspiration" mechanism:
All executives are assigned one day per month to participate in frontline services
Each new project must include a specific personal story to track
Regularly revisit early project sites to listen to the most authentic voices
The changes were subtle yet profound. In subsequent negotiations with the World Bank, Cheng Han insisted on including a "case-by-case priority" clause in the cooperation framework—any systemic intervention must ensure that it benefits specific individuals.
Even more surprising is that this "return to our roots" has led to new innovations. While re-engaging in grassroots service, Nila discovered a "Life Wisdom Sharing Circle" spontaneously formed by community elders. This model was later integrated into the elderly mental health program, achieving results far exceeding those of professional intervention programs.
At the quarterly reflection meeting, Cheng Han shared this journey: "We used to think that growth meant constantly moving forward. But now we understand that true growth lies in knowing how to look back at the right time, letting the light of the past illuminate the path forward."
Li Xiaoyu attended the meeting as a special advisor. She concluded by saying, "Remember, no matter how large our system becomes or how far-reaching our influence becomes, we must maintain those original eyes that can see specific individuals and a heart that can be moved by the transformation of a single life."
As night fell, Cheng Han once again came to the memorial hall alone. But this time, his mood was completely different. He opened the earliest case record and wrote in the blank space:
Scale isn't the enemy; oblivion is. Systems aren't the fear, but indifference is. Let us always remember that everything is about each individual, each heart longing to be understood.
Outside the window, the lights of the new headquarters building shone brightly. Cheng Han knew countless meetings, negotiations, and projects awaited him tomorrow. But right now, he just wanted to sit on this old sofa and feel the same hope that the first person seeking help had felt 25 years ago.
In this era of pursuit of efficiency and scale, perhaps the greatest wisdom is to know when to slow down and listen to the echoes of our original aspirations. Because those things that seem outdated often contain the most enduring truths.
“When you walk too fast, remember to listen to the footsteps on the way you came.”
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