Confucius

Hello. My name is Kǒng Qiū, but for thousands of years, the world has known me as Confucius. My story begins a very long time ago, in 551 BCE, in a place called the state of Lu, which is part of modern-day China. The world I was born into was full of conflict and change. The great Zhou dynasty, which had ruled for centuries with honor and tradition, was weakening, and local lords fought one another for power. It was a time of uncertainty, but it was also a time that shaped who I would become. My life started with a sad chapter when my father, a respected but not wealthy official, passed away when I was only three years old. My mother was left to raise me on her own, and we faced many hardships. We didn't have much money, but my mother made sure I had something far more valuable: a hunger for learning.

From my earliest days, I was not like the other children who spent all their time on simple games. I was deeply fascinated by the past, especially the ancient rituals and ceremonies that had brought order and meaning to our ancestors. While other boys might have played at being soldiers, I would carefully arrange small stones and clay pots to create pretend ceremonial altars. I would practice the formal bows and gestures of the old rites, trying to capture the dignity and respect I read about in old stories. Many people found my games strange, but for me, they were a connection to a better, more harmonious time. This deep love for history, tradition, and order was the very first seed of the philosophy I would spend my entire life developing and sharing.

I was not born a famous master; I had to earn my way through hard work, just like anyone else. As a young man, I took on practical jobs to support my family. For a time, I worked as a keeper of the local granary, the storehouse for grain. My job was to make sure the accounts were accurate and that the grain was distributed fairly. Later, I became a supervisor of livestock, overseeing the fields where the oxen and sheep were raised. These were not glamorous positions, but they were incredibly important, and they taught me lessons I could never have learned from books alone. I learned about responsibility, about the importance of fairness in daily life, and how every single person’s work contributes to the well-being of the whole community. It was during these years of careful work and observation that my true purpose became clear to me.

I realized that my calling was not simply to manage grain or livestock, but to help manage society itself and guide it toward peace and goodness. I saw the chaos of the warring states around me and believed I knew the cure. I believed that a peaceful and just society is not built by laws and punishments alone, but by the virtue of its people. I began to form my most important ideas. The first is what I called ‘ren’, which means humaneness, compassion, and treating others with kindness. It is the simple but powerful idea that you should not do to others what you would not want them to do to you. The second idea is ‘li’, which refers to proper conduct, politeness, and respect for tradition and your role in society. I believed that if everyone, from the most powerful ruler down to the humblest farmer, practiced ‘ren’ and ‘li’, our world would be filled with harmony and order.

Believing so strongly in my ideas, I knew I had to share them. I started a school, but it was a school unlike any other at the time. I opened my doors to any young man who was eager to learn, whether he came from a rich, noble family or a poor, common one. I cared only about their desire for knowledge and their commitment to becoming better people. For many years, I taught in my home state of Lu. But my greatest ambition was to find a ruler who would use my principles to govern his people with justice and wisdom. So, around the year 497 BCE, I left my home and began a long, difficult journey. For nearly fourteen years, I traveled from state to state with a small group of my most loyal students. We sought out dukes and princes, hoping to find one who would listen to my advice.

That journey was filled with challenges. Many rulers were more interested in power and conquest than in virtue and harmony. They dismissed my ideas as old-fashioned and impractical. There were times we were short on food, and there were moments when we faced real danger from those who disliked my teachings. More than once, I felt a deep sense of despair, wondering if my life’s work was for nothing. Yet, I never gave up. My students were my constant companions, and they faithfully wrote down our conversations, debating ideas and documenting my teachings. Looking back, that long exile was not a failure. It was a crucible that tested my beliefs and strengthened my resolve. It allowed me to refine my philosophy and prepared my students to become the teachers of the next generation.

In 484 BCE, I finally returned to my home state of Lu. I was an old man by then, and I understood that I would not live to see my grand dream of a perfectly governed society come true. But I was not filled with sadness. Instead, I found a new purpose for my final years. I dedicated myself to teaching and to gathering and editing the great classic texts of our culture—the poems, histories, and books of wisdom that had inspired me as a child. I wanted to ensure that the knowledge of our ancestors would be preserved for all time. When my life came to an end in 479 BCE, my physical journey was over, but the journey of my ideas was just beginning. My students, who were like sons to me, carried my teachings across the land.

They compiled the conversations we had shared into a book that would become known as ‘The Analects.’ Through this book, my voice has been able to speak to people for over two thousand years, long after I was gone. My legacy is a reminder to you that even if your biggest dreams don’t seem to come true in your lifetime, you must never stop trying to make the world a better place. The seeds you plant through learning, kindness, and hard work can grow into a vast forest, offering wisdom and shelter to countless generations you will never have the chance to meet.