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These days, several wars are raging in different parts of the world — for example, the conflict between Israel and Iran, and the war between Russia and Ukraine. These events have left me feeling uneasy.
Alone in my room, I turned to ChatGPT and asked if it had any suggestions to help calm my heart.
Within a second, it — ChatGPT — offered a few gentle suggestions for moments like this:
- Pause and Breathe: Inhale slowly for four seconds, hold your breath gently for four seconds, exhale slowly for six seconds — and repeat for three to five minutes.
- Read Something Uplifting: Revisit a passage you've read before that soothes you — perhaps something from Og Mandino, or a short piece of gentle fiction. (ChatGPT kindly offered: “If you like, I can share a short, calming story or poem now.”)
- Play Soft Music or Natural Sounds: Music has great healing power. Try listening to instrumental music, nature sounds (like rain, waves, or a forest), or something nostalgic from your past that brings you comfort.
- Look at Something Beautiful: “If you have a photo — of your grandchildren, a sunset, a peaceful place — let yourself take it in slowly.” Then it surprised me by saying, “You might also imagine Meilun Creek (美崙溪) at twilight, as you once described. Visualizing peaceful scenes can actually help regulate your mood.”
- Write a Gentle Note to Yourself: Try writing a few sentences that acknowledge your feelings and offer yourself kindness. Something like: “The world is heavy right now, but I am safe in this room. I have lived through many changes, and I will meet this moment with care and quiet strength.”
- Limit the Input: Consider turning off the news for a while. You can always catch up later. For now, protect your emotional space.
To my surprise, ChatGPT even seemed to remember my background. It said: “If you'd like, I can write you a short calming story — something personal, warm, and peaceful, perhaps set in a quiet evening in Taichung (台中) or back at Changliu Elementary (長流國小).”
That really intrigued me. I was curious to know what kinds of stories this thoughtful digital Teacher — or Counselor — might create for me to read. For comfort, for reflection, or simply for fun!
= = =
Story One:
A Lantern by the Window
It was a quiet evening in Taichung. Outside Jerry’s window, the sky was softly shifting from gold to lavender. The gentle hum of the city had faded, replaced by the rustling of trees and the distant chirping of crickets.
Inside, Jerry sat in his favorite chair — the one near the small window that overlooked a narrow street lined with old trees. On the wooden table beside him sat a warm cup of barley tea, faintly fragrant, its steam rising like a tiny wisp of cloud.
He reached into the drawer and pulled out a small wooden box — smooth with age, carved with faint lines from long ago. Inside were fragments of his past: a dried leaf from the schoolyard of Changliu Elementary (長流國小), a faded black-and-white photo of a teacher with students, and a slip of paper bearing lyrics from a song he once loved.
He smiled, remembering Mr. Zhang (張迺勤老師) organizing the mock election, and Mr. Jian (簡炎樹老師) gently correcting his Mandarin. Their voices had once filled a classroom of curious, noisy children — now only echoes in memory, but kind and clear.
A breeze came through the window, carrying the scent of late-summer grass and the quiet strength of home.
Feeling a gentle comfort, Jerry took out a small paper lantern he had kept for years. Tonight, he decided to light it — not for any holiday or occasion, but simply to remember that light always returns, even in uncertain times.
He placed the lantern near the window and watched its soft glow flicker, warming the corner of the room.
In that moment, Jerry felt something settle inside him — not an answer to the world’s troubles, but a reminder: though the world may shake, there are still small lights. And within him, the courage to hold them.
= = =
Story Two:
Twilight Walk by Meilun Creek
The day had been full — laughter at lunch, toys scattered across the floor, tiny feet running in circles, and the endless chatter of young voices that filled Jerry’s heart like a favorite song.
But now the sun was lowering behind the distant mountains, and the house had grown quiet. Jerry stepped out alone, leaving the children to their evening routines. He walked gently toward Meilun Creek (美崙溪), just a few blocks away.
The air smelled of earth and blooming leaves. The light had softened into that perfect Hualien twilight — not quite gold, not yet blue. The creek flowed steadily, whispering over rocks and under small footbridges, as if carrying old stories and new dreams alike.
Jerry found a wooden bench shaded by a tree, its trunk leaning slightly as if listening to the water. He sat down, took a deep breath, and let the rhythm of the stream match the quiet beating of his heart.
A breeze passed. He could almost hear the echo of children’s voices from earlier — his grandchildren calling him “Ah Gong!” and tugging at his hands, asking him to play. He smiled. How fast time moves… and yet, in this moment, everything had slowed to perfect stillness.
He picked up a smooth stone, rounded by water, and turned it in his fingers. It reminded him of something — the past, yes, but also the quiet truth of simply being here, now.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny folded drawing — a crayon picture his youngest grandchild had given him just before dinner. It showed a cheerful version of “Ah Gong” (阿公) by the sea, with blue waves, a red sun, and a big smile. He chuckled.
The wind picked up slightly, rustling the leaves. Jerry stood, tucked the drawing carefully back into his pocket, and whispered a quiet thank-you — to the stream, to the evening, to life itself.
As he turned to head home, the creek sparkled in the last light of day, like a thread of silver weaving through the world. And in his chest, where unease had once settled, there was now only calm — the kind that comes from love, memory, and the gentle passing of time.
= = =
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