Around the small Yanque Lake stood neat, leafy sabino trees. In fall, their green leaves turn yellow, and then red as the temperature drops. From a bird’s eye view, the lake resembles an oil painting, with scarlet ribbons densely covering the surface. Such a picturesque view, however, depends on the absence of people. Contrarily, we saw two circles of people crowding around the lake. Many gathered by the lake railings, with some even climbing over to take photos, making the spot popular on social media. The overcrowding made it impossible for us to linger and enjoy the scenery, so we had to leave after hurriedly taking a few photos. On our way back, looking at the photos made me feel a bit melancholy.

On the young faces of those taking photos and livestreaming around the crowded lake, were neither appreciation nor admiration for the beautiful scenery. Their eyes lacked the sensual enjoyment of colorful, splendid nature, revealing a hollow pursuit of trendy tourist spots and the frantic need to prove their existence by posting their travel photos on social media.

Since when did we become like this, living through hashtags? When did we start needing to validate our presence by posting travel photo online? Our virtual social lives have become so “vivid”. When visiting a new place, our itineraries must be packed with instagrammable tourist attractions. Taking photos against the iconic walls of internet-famous eateries has become proof of our journey. Cakes served by coffee shops are no longer for eating but for taking the perfect picture, even if it means waiting for two hours; IKEA could never have imagined that their lockers would become a favored backdrop for “photography lovers”, who created gridlock in tiny spaces.

The fear of being outdated drives us to hastily and constantly jump on the bandwagon, but doing so barely enhances our aesthetic sense or independent thinking skills. What is Klein Blue? Does the Maillard style signify a comeback of earthy colors?

I more than just a young person who blindly follows trends; I am a preacher. This makes me feel even sadder. How can my faith attract these trend chasers to pause and consider the many other possibilities for their lives? How can I inspire them to look up and discover a broader landscape beyond the trees?

Jesus once passed along the lake and saw those busy making a living. He called the fishermen to leave their nets and follow Him, giving them a higher vision and mission: to catch people instead of fish. They left everything behind and follow Him (cf. Luke 5:1-11). Jesus opened their mind to see a broader world, so that they would not be confined to a single small lake, but instead began to consider a bigger world.

Busyness causes a blind heart, and lifeless eyes lead to blindness. Only the withered leaves drift on the water, while the vibrant living ones are always blossoming and renewing. May those standing by the Yanque Lake no longer feel the need to rush to popular tourist destinations any more. May our hearts always beat with life.