"鸟儿并不是因为有了答案才歌唱，而是因为它们有歌声。"

This quote speaks to the idea that sometimes, actions are taken not because they provide solutions or answers, but because they are simply meant to be—joy for joy’s sake, art for art’s sake. In essence, it’s about finding beauty and fulfillment in the act itself, without needing a practical reason or outcome.

Historically, I can’t pinpoint when or where this quote originated, but its wisdom is timeless and universal. It’s the kind of insight you might stumble upon in a book of poetry, or hear from a wise old friend. It strikes at the core of human existence—our need to create, to express, and to find joy in the little things, even when they don’t serve a greater purpose.

Think about a painter like Vincent van Gogh. He painted because he had to, because it was his song. Despite the hardships he faced, the lack of recognition and the personal struggles, he found solace and meaning in his art. He didn't paint to find answers to his life's questions or to solve problems. He painted because that was his way of singing.

Let's bring it down to something more relatable. Imagine you're walking through a park and you see a child playing a guitar. She's not trying to become the next big music star. She's strumming away because she loves the sound, the feel of the strings under her fingers, the way the notes float in the air. She's singing her song. It's pure, unfiltered joy.

So how can you apply this wisdom? Well, start by identifying what your "song" is. What do you do purely for the love of it? Maybe it's painting, writing, gardening, or even just taking long walks. Do these things without worrying about the outcome. Don’t stress about whether you’re good at them or if they’ll lead to something bigger. Just do them because they make you happy.

Let me tell you a story. Years ago, I had a friend who was a software engineer. He was brilliant at his job but it didn’t light him up. Every evening, he'd come home, make himself a cup of tea, and write poetry. He never showed it to anyone, never tried to get it published. One day, I asked him why he spent so much time on something that, in his words, "didn't go anywhere." He smiled and said, "I don't write to be read. I write because it’s my song."

In a world that's always pushing us to do more, achieve more, and be more, it's easy to forget that sometimes, it’s okay to just be. To do things for the sheer love of doing them. So next time you find yourself stressing over not having all the answers, remember the birds. They sing not because they have answers, but because they have songs. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough.