The first time I saw the phrase “Mind over matter” was in Foyles, displayed above shelves of psychology books. The words immediately reminded me of Chinese philosophy – specifically Wang Yangming’s teaching that the mind is like a mirror. Since then, this idea has quietly become a pillar of strength in my research life in Oxford.
Wang Yangming stood against the dominant Neo-Confucian idea of gewu zhizhi – “investigating things to extend knowledge.” For him, the world contains infinite objects; how could one ever exhaustively “investigate” them all? Instead of chasing endlessly outward, he argued, one should turn inward: to investigate the mind itself.
This is where his metaphor of the mirror comes in. Our mind is like a mirror. A mirror reflects the world clearly only when it is polished. Yet most people, Wang suggested, try to “investigate things” while holding up a dim and dusty mirror, hoping to see the world through it. But how can a clouded mirror ever reveal anything clearly? What we should do instead is not to carry a dirty mirror to reflect the world, but to polish the mirror of our own mind. Once it becomes clear, it reflects everything truthfully. As Wang taught: “The mind itself is the ultimate principle – there is nothing beyond the mind, and no truth outside it.”
As research students, we are trained to “Find out something to find out, then find out”: to read more, calculate more, prove more. Yet in the process, we often forget to “find ourselves”. I came to appreciate this when wrestling with mathematics. As a PhD student, I usually drown in dense papers and unsolved problems. At times, anxiety and self-doubt feel overwhelming. But when I pause – close my eyes, steady my breath, and “polish the mirror” of my mind – the fog cleared. The problem may remain, but my way of seeing it changes. What once seemed like a dead end often reveals a crack of light. Such a moment is when I really make progress in my research.
My personal experience, however, is far from unique. Recent data suggest that the struggle for mental clarity and balance is widespread among Oxford students. According to the Oxford Student Union’s latest welfare report, 38% of surveyed students said their mental health had declined since beginning their studies, 76% had felt anxious, and 44% had experienced depression. These numbers show that behind Oxford’s academic success, many students quietly struggle with stress and self-doubt. In conversations with friends, I often hear stories of burnout, sleepless nights, and the silent pressure to appear composed and accomplished. The culture of constant productivity leaves little room for reflection or rest, and even moments of achievement can feel fleeting. The academic mind, in pursuit of knowledge, often forgets to care for itself. To polish the mirror, after all, is not to escape the world, but to face it with a clearer mind. Then, I realised, the deeper meaning of “mind over matter” is not about brute willpower against the world, but about cultivating clarity within. A restless mind makes even simple logic a tangle; a calm mind can trace paths through the most complex questions.
Before his death, Wang’s final words were: “My mind is luminous – what more is there to say?” He had spent his life embodying this belief, and he has no pity. He founded the ‘School of Mind’, which became a major force in the intellectual life of Ming and Qing dynasties and later influenced thinkers across East Asia. Perhaps “mind over matter” is not about conquering reality, but about finding peace and clarity within. May we all learn to polish the mirror of our own mind, so that when it becomes clear, the world before us also comes into focus.
