惜缘 – Cherishing the Bonds of Fate

A reader commented on my previous post, The Spirit of Tango:

“A ten-minute tanda is a radical response to the dehumanizing reality of modern life. It is an opportunity for two humans to embrace each other in the promotion of humanity. Don’t let that precious moment slip away because your partner isn’t a good enough dancer, tall enough, young enough, old enough, attractive enough, or friendly enough. Every embrace has a story—dance with it.”

I pondered this comment—it reminded me of a Chinese motto: 惜缘 (pronounced shee-yuan).

惜缘 means “to cherish the serendipity that brings people together.” On my office wall hangs a script, written in beautiful penmanship by a Chinese calligrapher: "Cherish those who are brought to you by fate. They enrich your life. They are the footprints to your destiny."

This philosophy may feel unfamiliar in the United States, where human connections are not as deeply valued as in other cultures like China and Argentina. Many Americans prioritize personal freedom, independence, self-reliance, and individualism. They live, work, and even pass on alone. Fierce fighters for gun rights yet often unaware of the richness of communal life, they frequently let opportunities for meaningful connections slip away.

But life is not a solo dance—not even for Robinson Crusoe. Think about it: your life is shaped by the people around you—the parents who raised you, the siblings you grew up with, the classmates who studied beside you, the teachers who inspired you, the colleagues worked together, and the friends who shared in your joys and struggles. Fate brings only a limited number of people into each person’s life. These are precious resources granted to us by serendipity. Those who cherish such resources can build great enterprises and achieve lofty goals, while those who do not often find their lives lonely, friendless, and unfulfilled.

What is true in life is also true in tango. In every city, there are only a limited number of people who dance tango. Despite their differences, these individuals share a longing for fellowship, a belief in fraternity and love, a sense of nostalgia, romanticism, sentimentality, and interdependence, and a passion for tango. Those who value one another create a vibrant and welcoming community. Those who build walls and burn bridges, on the other hand, sow division and cause the community to suffer. Sadly, this is too often the case. Too many of us fail to appreciate what has brought us together. Some are haughty and prejudiced, viewing others as rivals and treating them with indifference and disdain. They dance not to enjoy the relationship but to display their ego. They form cliques, vie for dominance, and push out the competition.

Tango is not compatible with ego-driven individualism. I hope we can learn from the philosophy of 惜缘 and cherish the good fortune that brings us together—this is what makes tango so fascinating. Tango is not just a skill. It is a companionship. A philosophy. A quiet rebellion against alienation. It invites us to restore our shared humanity through love, connection, and presence. Rather than trying to reinvent tango, perhaps we should let tango reinvent us into a more connected, compassionate, and cooperative people (see Tango Is a Fellowship).