[An Essay from My Heart]

<The Wisdom of Distinguishing Between the Public and the Private>

We cross invisible boundaries dozens of times each day. From the moment we leave home, we are someone’s parent or child, and at the same time a colleague at work and a citizen of society. Within a single person, many roles coexist. Yet when those roles become entangled, life easily falls into confusion. Distinguishing clearly between the public and the private is not merely a matter of etiquette; it is a matter of order that sustains our lives.

When emotions from the workplace spill over unchanged into the home, and conflicts at home in turn cloud our public judgment, we begin to exhaust our own lives. If personal affection or private feelings become the standard in public settings, trust quickly begins to crack. If we bring public tension and competition into our private spaces, the heart loses its place of rest. The more blurred the boundary between the public and the private becomes, the more a person loses his or her center, and relationships begin to waver. Yet the moment we firmly establish that boundary, life regains its balance. This is not a matter of coldly drawing lines, but of respecting the unique value inherent in each sphere—a mark of maturity.

In the Eastern classic Great Learning, there is a well-known phrase: “Cultivate oneself, regulate the family, govern the state, and bring peace to the world” (修身齊家治國平天下). It means that one must first set oneself in order, then manage the family, then govern the nation, and bring harmony to the world. This sentence embodies the wisdom of distinguishing between the private and the public step by step, while acknowledging the order within each realm. If personal cultivation belongs to the private sphere, governing a nation belongs to the public sphere. The two are connected, yet they must never be confused.

When tough times come, we are easily swept away by emotion. Feelings of injustice, anger, and hurt attempt to take the place of judgment. Yet public matters must be addressed in the language of principles and responsibility, while private wounds must be resolved in the language of understanding and forgiveness. A person who knows how to distinguish between the two does not collapse in times of crisis. He views problems not through emotion but through standards, and he accomplishes what must be done without damaging relationships. Such an attitude gives birth to trust—and trust, in turn, becomes the strength that protects him.

At times I reflect that many of life’s conflicts arise not because situations are inherently complex, but because the boundary between the public and the private has grown unclear. A small misunderstanding can escalate into conflict when carried into the public arena; public criticism can become a personal wound when received as a private attack. Yet the moment we ask ourselves, “Is this a public judgment or a private emotion?” the heart steps back. That single step of distance—that space we create within ourselves—is wisdom.

To distinguish between the public and the private is not to become cold; rather, it is to assume a deeper sense of responsibility. In public settings, we set aside personal likes and dislikes. In private settings, we stop calculating and respond with sincerity. That balance is the mark of maturity. In the end, the force that makes life steady and resilient does not come from grand abilities, but from such small acts of discernment.

When we observe those who endure difficult seasons well, we find that they possess clear standards within. They respect emotions, yet entrust judgment to principles. They protect relationships, yet do not evade responsibility. The wisdom of distinguishing between the public and the private is like the rudder that holds a ship steady when fierce winds blow. As long as we grip that rudder firmly, we will find our rightful course, no matter how turbulent the sea is. ***

February 24, 2026
  

At Sungsunjae (崇善齋)

{Solti}

한국어 번역: https://www.ktown1st.com/blog/VALover/348477