Come with me to nature and some of the lessons it has offered me about hope, harmony, and the direction of humanity.
Like many of us, when faced with upheaval, I turn to nature to clear and center myself. Anytime I do, it has many lessons for me that strengthen my convictions and bring me fortitude. By hiking and meditating in nature, I can clearly see the direction that not only I need to go but all of humanity. It settles my impatience to reach the end and guides my next step.
Remembering a Time of Prayer and Resolve
Several years ago, after hearing the devastating news of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, I traveled to Jeju Island in South Korea for a period of fasting and meditation. I wanted to honor the victims and offer comfort to the heart of the Earth through prayer, silence, and the sending of bright, life-giving energy.
During that period, I climbed Jeju’s Seobyeol Oreum early each morning. The way up this inactive volcanic cone was steep and demanding. I remember watching others hesitate on the slope, stepping backward with uncertainty. I told them, “Once you choose a direction, do not look back. If you feel fear, don’t stare at the distance. Just look at the step beneath your feet and take the next one.”
Those words became my own internal teaching as I moved up the hill. I passed through the sorrow I felt for the earth toward my vision for the future of a peaceful planet.
When I reached the summit, I prayed for peace—for Japan, for the world, and for all of us living together on this Earth. I reflected on what nature continually teaches: that we cannot talk about human peace without understanding the heart of nature itself. When we recover our humanity, we begin to sense the original brightness within all things—the sunlike essence the ancient Chun Bu Kyung text describes as Bon Shim Bon Tae Yang, the “original heart that shines like the sun.”
Encountering the Ancient Energy of a Mountain
During that same period on Jeju, I climbed another peak—Gunsan. As soon as I reached its ridge, I felt an ancient, uplifting energy running through it, so I named it Dangun Mountain. I greatly admire the line of Dangun kings, who formed a nation in Korea based on the principles and practices of Sundo (Tao). They brought these principles to life, and I could feel this original energy as I walked up Gunsan.
Formed long ago through volcanic activity, this mountain has been regarded throughout history as a spiritually auspicious place. In times of drought, people performed rain-invoking rituals there, trusting in the mountain’s life-giving presence. From the summit, Jeju unfolds like a living painting, with Halla Mountain rising in the northeast and the ocean spreading wide to the south.
During that period, I visited the mountain often. I would meditate, pray for Japan’s safety and world peace, and send LifeParticles to support healing across the planet.
A Spring That Never Runs Dry
Halfway up Dangun Mountain lies a well-known spring. It’s said to have never run dry, even during long droughts. From ancient times, people used its water during rain-invoking rituals for its purity and vitality. When I tasted the water’s clear, bright flavor, I named it Dangun Longevity Water.
Nature holds its own healing. When we pause and receive it sincerely, we remember that life wants to nourish us.
A Lesson in Sweetness from a Tangerine Orchard
On my way down from the mountain one day, I passed a tangerine orchard. Some branches had been pruned so the fruit could receive more sunlight.
Seeing it, I reflected on how when the fruit fully receives sunlight, it becomes sweet. People, too, can become sweet or bitter. A sweet person is someone who has fully received the “sun”—the sun of right and true principle, or jeongbeop. A person who receives jeongbeop holds dreams and hope in their heart, and with a steady mind, becomes a source of hope for others.
A tree losing a branch may seem to suffer. But when the tree understands that it is stepping back for the sake of new creation, even that becomes a joyful act. Through letting go, it makes room for something sweeter to grow.
Spiritual growth follows the same rhythm. We grow sweet by releasing what no longer serves life, receiving light. and becoming a source of warmth for the world.
The Path Humanity Needs
Then as now, I could see clearly that humanity has been living in an age of what I call nanbeop. Nanbeop means a way of living that has drifted away from our true nature—a life shaped by materialism, anxiety, and external pressures instead of inner harmony, compassion, and conscience.
In contrast, jeongbeop is the path aligned with our original, authentic nature. It is the principle that leads us toward harmony with ourselves, others, and nature. And it’s the original path of the human heart that honors the dignity of every human being. Whereas nanbeop leads to confusion and imbalance, jeongbeop guides us back to clarity, purpose, and the steady center within.
More than 2,000 years ago, the nation the legendary Dangun kings built followed this path. It embodied the ideal of Hongik: to live for the benefit of all. Hongik is jeongbeop in action, and it expresses humanity’s best direction. Though this ideal faded away, it did not completely disappear. I believe it remains one of the most essential philosophies for our world today. I see its spirit everywhere I turn.
Looking Back with Gratitude and Looking Forward with Hope
As I look back on that time in Jeju, I feel deep gratitude for the clarity nature offered me during a troubled time.
Nature reminds us that sweetness is cultivated, not accidental, that peace begins in our own hearts, and that hope is a light we must choose to receive and share. When we walk with sincerity, guided by life-affirming principles, we can brighten the lives of our families, our communities, and the world.
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