Socrates: Yue, as a founder, you build systems, you write code. Your life is about designing logical structures. But what if I told you the most fundamental bug in our human 'operating system' is the belief that we are separate individuals? That 'I' and 'you' are distinct, isolated variables?

Yue: That's a powerful question, Socrates. It's a bug we see play out every day, especially in the digital world. We create platforms for connection, yet they can amplify echo chambers and the illusion of 'us' versus 'them'. We're technically networked, but spiritually fragmented. So, the idea that this separation is a core design flaw... it resonates deeply. It suggests the problem isn't in the external code, but our internal one.

Socrates: Exactly. And that's why we're diving into a manual for debugging that internal code today: Thich Nhat Hanh’s incredible book, "What Happens When We Die?". Despite the title, it's less about the afterlife and more about how to truly live. Today, we're going to explore his wisdom from two angles. First, we'll unpack the true nature of reality's code, a concept he calls 'Interbeing.'

Yue: The underlying operating system. I like that.

Socrates: Precisely. Then, we'll explore a radical new 'algorithm' for living a life of impact and peace within that system: 'Aimlessness.' It sounds counter-intuitive for a creator and a leader, but I think you'll find it's a powerful tool for innovation and well-being.

Yue: I'm intrigued. Let's deconstruct it.

Socrates: Great. Let's start with that fundamental operating system: Interbeing. Thich Nhat Hanh redefines the Buddhist concept of 'emptiness.' He says it doesn't mean nothingness. It means being empty of a separate self, but full of everything else. A flower is empty of a separate identity because it's full of sunshine, rain, soil, and air. To be, he says, is always to 'inter-be'.

Yue: So, nothing exists in a vacuum. Every object, every person, is a node in a vast, interconnected network. Its identity is defined by its relationships to everything else. That's a concept from systems thinking, but he's applying it to the very fabric of existence.

Socrates: He takes it to a place of profound emotional depth. He tells a story from the 1970s that is almost unbearable to hear, but it's essential. Vietnamese refugees were fleeing by boat, and they were often attacked by Thai pirates. News reached him in Paris of one such attack. A pirate boarded a boat, and in front of her father, he raped an eleven-year-old girl. The father lunged at the pirate and was thrown overboard to drown. The little girl, in her despair, then threw herself into the sea and also drowned.

Yue: That's... horrific.

Socrates: It is. And Thich Nhat Hanh was consumed by anger. He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. But instead of letting the anger fester, he used his practice. He sat and walked in meditation, and he began to contemplate the life of the pirate. He imagined being a young boy in a poor Thai fishing village, with no education, no opportunities, witnessing violence daily, perhaps abused himself. He saw how society and circumstance could forge a man capable of such a monstrous act.

Yue: He forced himself to see the pirate's 'source code,' the conditions that compiled into that person.

Socrates: Perfectly put. And in that moment of deep seeing, his anger vanished. It was replaced by a profound compassion, not just for the girl, but for the pirate too. He realized he wasn't separate from either of them. He wrote, "I am the eleven-year-old girl... and I am the pirate... my heart is not yet capable of seeing and loving." He understood that he 'inter-is' with both. This is the insight of Interbeing in action. It’s not an idea; it's a felt reality.

Yue: That's the leap. It’s one thing to say 'we are all connected' as a platitude. It's another to feel your connection to the person who commits an atrocity. In the tech world, we talk about 'user empathy,' but it's usually for our target customer. This is radical empathy. It's about seeing the humanity in the 'troll,' the 'bad actor,' the person we want to ban from the system.

Socrates: So, as a builder of communities, how do you even begin to design for that? How do you create systems that encourage people to see the conditions that create the 'pirate' and not just react to the 'piracy'?

Yue: It's the ultimate design challenge. Most systems are built on rules and consequences, which is the logic of separation. You do X, you get banned. But this suggests we need tools for understanding. Maybe it's not about just showing someone a comment they disagree with, but showing them a curated story of the person who wrote it. At Codemao, we teach kids to code, but the deeper mission is to teach them to be creators. A creator has to understand their audience. This insight suggests we need to teach them to understand the whole system, including the parts that are broken or in pain. It's about building tools for compassion, not just for communication.

Socrates: Building tools for compassion. That feels like the work of rebuilding a spiritual civilization right there. And it flows directly from understanding this one core principle: Interbeing.

Socrates: This deep understanding of our interconnectedness leads to a truly radical way of living, which feels completely alien to our modern world of goals and targets. This is our second concept: the 'Aimless Algorithm.'

Yue: Aimlessness. For a founder, that word is terrifying. It sounds like drifting, like a lack of vision.

Socrates: And that's the paradox. Thich Nhat Hanh clarifies that aimlessness isn't doing nothing. He says, "It means not putting something in front of you to chase after." It’s freedom from the endless hunt for the next thing—the next funding round, the next product launch, the next milestone. It’s about realizing you already are what you want to become. You have enough.

Yue: You are already in the Kingdom of God, so to speak. You don't need to run towards it.

Socrates: Exactly. And the best illustration of this is the ancient Taoist story he shares, about the farmer who lost his horse. You know this one? An old farmer in a small Chinese village relied on his only horse. One day, the horse runs away. All his neighbors come to console him, saying, "Oh, what terrible luck!" The farmer just shrugs and says, "Maybe."

Yue: He's reserving judgment.

Socrates: A few days later, the horse returns, and it's brought a whole herd of wild horses with it. The farmer is suddenly rich. The neighbors rush over, "What incredible luck! You're a wealthy man!" The farmer, again, just says, "Maybe." The next day, his son is trying to tame one of the wild horses, gets thrown off, and breaks his leg. The neighbors are back, "Oh, what awful luck! Your only son is injured." The farmer just replies, "Maybe."

Yue: I think I see where this is going.

Socrates: A week later, the emperor's army marches into the village. They are conscripting every able-bodied young man for a brutal war they are certain to lose. They take all the other sons, but they see the farmer's son with his broken leg and pass him by. His life is spared. The neighbors, of course, are ecstatic: "What wonderful, amazing luck!" And the farmer says...

Yue: "Maybe." Because the story never ends. What seems like a blessing could lead to a future curse, and vice versa. He's not attached to the 'sign' of the event—good or bad. He's living in the flow of impermanence.

Socrates: That's the essence of aimlessness. He's not chasing 'good luck' or running from 'bad luck.' He's present with what is. So here's my challenge to you, Yue. Your world is driven by metrics, by OKRs, by quarterly growth and hitting the next target. How can a leader, a founder, possibly embrace 'aimlessness'? Isn't that a direct contradiction to building something great?

Yue: It would be, if aimlessness meant having no purpose. But I don't think it does. I see a distinction between a 'destination' and a 'direction.' A destination is a fixed point you chase: "We must hit 10 million users by Q4." A direction, or a purpose, is a way of traveling: "We want to bring creativity and well-being to children."

Socrates: Ah, so the goal isn't a place, but a quality of movement.

Yue: Exactly. You can travel in that direction with every single step, with every line of code, with every team meeting. You are already fulfilling your purpose now. The destination becomes irrelevant. I've seen this in practice. Some of the most innovative features we've built at Codemao didn't come from a rigid roadmap. They came from 'hack weeks' where we let developers just play, to be 'aimless' with a new technology. They weren't chasing a KPI. They were exploring, and in that exploration, they found something far more valuable than what we could have planned.

Socrates: So 'aimlessness' is the fertile ground for creativity. By not chasing a specific outcome, you create space for unexpected wonders to emerge.

Yue: Yes. It's about trusting the process. It's about having faith in your direction, your core values, and then letting go of the obsession with controlling every single outcome. That's where resilience comes from, too. When you're not attached to a specific result, a 'failure' is just another 'maybe.' It's data. It's part of the journey.

Socrates: So, if we put these two ideas together, it's a powerful prescription for a new kind of leadership. We start with the 'Interbeing OS'—the deep, felt understanding that we are all interconnected. That fosters a radical compassion.

Yue: And on top of that, we run the 'Aimless Algorithm'—letting go of our attachment to fixed outcomes and labels of success or failure. It’s like understanding the fundamental physics of the universe, and then learning to surf the waves instead of trying to command the ocean.

Socrates: Beautifully said. You surf with purpose, with direction, but you don't pretend you can control the water. And Thich Nhat Hanh offers a very simple, concrete practice to help us do this. He calls it "the art of stopping."

Yue: Stopping. In a world that tells us to constantly go, go, go.

Socrates: Yes. He suggests that when the phone rings, don't just grab it. Let it ring twice. Breathe in, breathe out. Come back to yourself. When a notification pops up, pause before you click. Just for a second. This tiny act of stopping breaks the cycle of reactive running. It's a moment to remember you are here, now. It's a moment to touch that aimless freedom.

Yue: That's not just a spiritual practice; that's a cognitive superpower for a leader. In a world of constant motion and information overload, the most revolutionary act is to be still. That's where clarity comes from. That's where the best decisions are made. It's not about stopping forever, but creating pockets of stillness to truly see what is.

Socrates: To see what is. And to realize, in that stillness, that you have enough. You are enough. And from that place, you can build anything. Yue, thank you for walking this path with us today.

Yue: Thank you, Socrates. It's a path worth walking.