First Encounter
Beautiful dreams, like beautiful poems, are unattainable, often appearing in the most unsuspected moments.
I like that kind of dream, in the dream, everything can be restarted, everything can be slowly explained, the heart can even feel, all the wasted time can be back when the ecstasy and gratitude, chest overflowing with happiness, just because you are in front of my eyes, smiled at me, as in the year.
I really like that kind of dream, know that you have traveled thousands of miles for me, but also feel the grass flowers, colorful, as if you and I just met for the first time.
Riddle
When I guessed the answer to the riddle, I realized that the feast was over, and everything had passed.
The feast is gone, the people are far away, and you are in the midst of them, deep in the twilight, unrecognizable, not to be met again.
But only a moment ago, this garden was breezy and full of laughter, but I could not go in. They gave me a riddle to guess well, and when I guessed correctly, I could meet you and be given a hoped-for love affair.
When I guessed the riddle, I realized that everything had passed, and the years had long since changed the riddle.
The moment of looking back
In our world, time is the warp, space is the weft, finely and densely weaved a series of sadness and joy, weaving a very regular yin and yang error. And in every corner, every knot, in fact, there is a secret mark, at that time, we do not know, but in retrospect, suddenly found all the veins in the eyes, only to smile and realize the pain and sorrow of the place.
In that moment of looking back, time stays and never passes away. The streams that flowed in the shadows of sheep's teeth and wild peonies were still young, the sky was covered with clouds, and my heart was filled with the love and care you gave me.
A former destiny
If people can truly be reincarnated, if there is truly reincarnation in the world, then, I love, what were we once in our former lives?
If you have been a woman picking lotus in Jiangnan, I must be the one you missed under your wrist. If you have been the truant child, I must be the brand new marble that fell from your bag, in the roadside bushes, watching you go away without knowing. If you have been a monk, I must be a pillar of incense in front of the temple, burning, accompanied by a period of quiet time.
Therefore, when we meet in this life, we always feel that some of the previous destiny has not been completed, but it is very trance, can not distinguish carefully, can not say to you one by one.
Water Penboy
In today's world, there are many people who do not want to believe that the beautiful and sincere things are right in front of them. In order to protect themselves, they prefer to conclude at the outset that all that is beautiful is only a false endeavor. In this way, when everything is lost, they will therefore not feel sorry and hurt.
The water penny is a precious and rare plant, just like a precious and rare love, which is getting rarer and rarer in this world, and is less and less easy to get, because, too many people are no longer willing to love and believe.
And I have believed in you since the beginning.
The last sentence
Even the most beautiful and long-lasting encounters will end the same way, it is time to say goodbye, on the bow of this ancient ferry, the sun has set.
It is time to say goodbye, you gently hold my hand, while I silently bend my head and wait, waiting for fate to separate us.
Please forgive me, O please forgive me. Dear friend, you have given me your wandering life, but I can only give you a thin book of poems.
The sun has set, my tears dripped on the sand, and I wrote the last line, if there is really an afterlife, please keep an eye out for it, a woman who writes poems on the sand.
Perfect imperfections
Life, we can often find that some people live a particularly deliberate, such as cleanliness, such as picky, such as neurotic, such as excessive self-esteem ...... These personality traits reflect a phenomenon of what? ==== typical perfectionist.
The pursuit of perfection is nothing wrong, because there is such a spirit exists, we can enjoy the classic life, only to know that the world is so magical. Like "Liang Zhu" that classical music to bring us unparalleled music aesthetic; "Titanic" movie to give us the mind shock and box office legend; Eiffel Tower, pyramids, the Great Wall of China that the heirloom of the architectural art of ...... these can be called the essence of the art of perfection, in fact, there are flaws can be found. As the saying goes, "look across the mountain into a peak". I have seen someone in the wedding celebration moment to play the "Liang Zhu" inviting people to spit; people who have seen the "Titanic" probably also saw the introduction, the ship was the last century called "never sunk the ship", but unexpectedly sank, but also sank so sad.
China's ancient culture educated people "words can not be full of mouth, do things to stay back". What it advocates is a philosophy of life that is free to enter and exit. To be like bamboo, straight and curved are flexible, bend but not break; too much pursuit of perfection, too much self-esteem is like a steel, not when it will easily break. Too fragile self-esteem in the constant temperature will be maintained to the normal state of play. Imagine the famous Danish physicist, in order to avoid making a fool of himself in front of his students, at the expense of millions of dollars to build a perfect laboratory, he did because of this impeccable scientific platform, creating the myth of the famous Western Europe. His success was the result of a combination of all the advantages of timing, location, and people. If the scientist came from a humble background, and was tired of making a living all the time, and did not have strong financial conditions to build such an ideal laboratory, and he would have encountered all kinds of life problems and academic problems faced by ordinary scholars, then does it mean that the inevitable fall of a superstar? Civilian life, we have heard and witnessed how many full of wisdom but because of financial constraints and change course of life, put a person on a different track, this life will have different results. The river has a sound, the cliff is a thousand feet. I can only say, that Ball is lucky, he created a miracle in the greenhouse, if he came out of that exquisite shell, he will still achieve attention? I'm afraid it's worth speculating.
In summary, perfection is still flawed. Just as 24K gold has a gold content of 99. 99%, there is absolutely no 100% purity. We applaud those who have achieved success and pursued perfection, but I would prefer more scientists to come from the storm, and I believe that this kind of achievement is more able to withstand the public vote and the baptism of socialization.
The fifty-year-old sensation alarm clock went off. "Why should I go on the alarm clock?" I thought to myself, not yet fully awake, "It's Sunday!" Then I realized that today was my 50th birthday. A large number of guests would be coming to congratulate me. Hurry up and get up! "50," I said the number softly to myself several times so I could get used to the sound of the word. I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, a familiar face looked at me with joy. I hadn't added a single gray hair or wrinkle this night.
As soon as the bathroom door opened, I was enveloped in a pair of arms. "Happy birthday and all the best, mom!" My youngest daughter, 22, loudly congratulated me. This was followed by another hug, from my older daughter, 24. "Hey, let me hug you too, will you?" My husband asked. He gazed at me intently, stroked my cheek affectionately and said, "Your skin is still so delicate." I was thrilled, but managed to sidetrack him, "We've got to get our act together!" The celebration was going to be a full day of fun, and there was still quite a bit waiting to be done.
The only reason I'm having this party is because my husband has been persuading me to do so, and I haven't wanted to gain a year in 50 years - I've wanted to stay 16 for 3 years, 30 for 5 years, and 45 for 10 years.
At 40, I was extraordinarily comfortable because I had safely passed the somewhat overwhelming 30 to 40 age group. At that age, people have to enhance the couple's relationship and dig out, have to buy an apartment, to seek an ideal career day and night, but also have to give birth to a child, take on the responsibility and obligation. 40 years old, I can look back on the past 10 years of the sweet and sour and the success or failure of the gains and losses, you can recall the past 10 years of difficult trek to leave the footprints of my husband and I don't have to worry about the two daughters. From the age of 40, as I get older, I can not only organize my life more rationally according to my own wishes, but also become more mature and more confident.
However, as I approached 40, I suddenly heard the word "old" more often than I care to remember. I heard the laughable compliment, "You look tough for your age!" I was also sent a price list of products for people in their fifties, which the vendor said were "perfect for your generation.
I recall traveling to London with my daughter: it was her first time away, so I packed in three days of sightseeing. On the first day, we carried shopping bags on our backs and wandered around the streets for a whole day. When I got back to the hotel, my legs were so tired that I couldn't even lift them up. So I thought worriedly, "This must be due to old age!" Then I heard my daughter, who was lying on the bed, ask, "Do you want to go out again tonight? Borrow a videotape and watch it at the hotel!" She too was exhausted. It seems that I shouldn't have indiscriminately linked anything that didn't go my way with my age. But I'm still hung up on my age. Once when I was talking to a publisher in his eighties, I said to him in a tone of obvious disgust, "I'm going to be 50 soon!" He actually laughed at my words. Then he took a drag on his cigarette, took a sip of his Bordeaux, and exclaimed to me, "Fifty! That age means that you're just starting out on your life's boat. It's the prime of your life, the prime of your life!" He further explained that a 50-year-old has in his heart a compass that can accurately determine the course of life for which people in their 20s to 40s are struggling. With it, you can more timely seize the once-in-a-lifetime fleeting opportunities; with it, you can more clearly establish their own future goals; with it, you can more fully utilize their wisdom and talent!
It was at this point that I noticed the changes in my family over the past 10 years: my husband and I had both achieved our long-awaited professional goals, and our two daughters were in college.
Our generation looks at least 10 years younger than our parents' generation did at this age. Of course, we also take better care of ourselves than our parents' generation did. women born in 1910 typically live to be only 64 years old. In 1990, statistics showed that the average life expectancy of our generation had reached 80 years. We are in a good position to develop our own vision, and 50 is the best age to think about how to organize our later years.
The most precious gift I received at my birthday party was a photo album from my two daughters. A photo album documenting the sisters' growth and their blended mother-daughter bond. The sisters also wrote under each photo their feelings of reminiscing about the past, which moved me a lot after reading it.
That night, in the face of a cluster of flowers, gifts, I finally understand the meaning of the 50th birthday: 30-year-old or 40-year-old people can not get such a photo book. People have to be at least 50 years old to receive such a precious gift, because the 50th birthday is a harvest festival for parents and a day of thanksgiving for children. Looking back at all that life has generously given me, and at the fruitfulness of my own hard work, I am not saddened for the first time in 50 long years by the increase of a single year.
Focusing on every moment now
The professor was invited to speak at a military base and was greeted at the airport by a soldier named Ralph.
While the two were on their way to pick up their luggage, Ralph left the professor on three separate occasions: the first time to help a grandmother with her suitcase, the second time to lift two small children up so they could see Santa Claus, and the third time to give directions to a man. Each time he returned, he had a smile on his face.
The professor asked him, "Where did you learn to do that?"
Ralph replied, "In the war." Then he recounted his experience in Vietnam. Their mission was to clear mines, and he saw several of his close comrades go down one by one.
He said, "I have to learn to live one step at a time. I never know if I will be the next one to fall. So I have to make the most of the gap between each lift and fall. I feel like each step feels like an entire life."
No one knows what will happen tomorrow. If we could predict it, how gray the world would become: we would lose all our passion, and life would become like an old movie we've seen that no longer surprises us or moves us.
I think what we need to do is to accept life as it is: a big adventure. It doesn't matter who accumulates more wealth or who goes further, the only thing that matters is who really learns to appreciate life.
I think that's what we should be thinking about when we look back on our lives.
The beauty of brokenness
Sometimes I even believe that only broken things are beautiful.
I like the broken tree roots, withered branches and leaves, like the rusty bells of the ancient temples, broken doors and decrepit walls, like the courtyard deep a pong of autumn grass, stone steps tilted jade fence cracked, like the cloud cold star falling moon lack of roots, stems and stems decayed willows and flower residue, like a silent old man dressed in faded clothes to pick up the rags on the streets and alleys, like the shoulders of a little girl skinny back with the old schoolbag made of flowery cloth pieces to go to school. I even like a beer bottle with a missing mouth or a flattened can rolling silently on the ground and then standing still. Whenever I saw these bits and pieces of trivial human things, I always gazed at them intently until I looked into a realm far, far away.
I don't know how beautiful they once were, so I can't imagine them. Therefore, I was y intoxicated by this unimaginable and unsearchable beauty, digging into their gorgeous past, and then, looking back, pulling these two life forms to the front of my eyes and weeping sadly. This inexplicable everything contains how much difficult to tell the wind and snow, sadness and happiness, contains how many vicissitudes of the world in the eternal sadness and infinite bleak ah!
I like to see people cry out in pain, like to listen to people roar wildly, like people drunkenly spit out some buried in the bottom of the heart of the fermentation of the past, like to see an unrequited love of people in the beloved's wedding night in the rain holding the umbrella silently standing. I like the quiet and calm people talk about the suffering, always happy and satisfied people will suddenly frustrated and lost, old people remember the yellow youth, lonely and proud people confessed to miss the love. I like the star lost favor after a sad smile, the hero in his twilight years to bear the pain of looking back, the official disappointment of the person alone to taste tea, the red face of the dead beauty of the mirror mourning. I like people in the weakest and most unguarded time to dig out their most painful and most painful part of things, and then trembling, and then crying, and then let the heart out of blood.
Whenever this happens, even if I know nothing about the person in front of me, I will surely believe that: this person has a soul that was once very beautiful and is still beautiful now, and that the sorrows and sufferings he has experienced, as well as those hard-to-touch matters of the heart and emotions are the deepest imprints and the most cherished stash of his life. Only when he is broken, he will release these long secluded pigeons, and open the window to reveal his true face.
The person who can be broken must have really lived. The brokenness of Lin Daiyu lies in the love she has carved in her bones; the brokenness of Sanmao stems from the moment of clarity and transcendence after she has gone through the vicissitudes of life; the brokenness of Van Gogh is the sun with a golden knife to make him in the light of the constant pain; the brokenness of Beethoven is the spirituality of the black and white keys to hit the life of the sad music. If the brokenness of those ordinary people leaks the purest and most beautiful light of human nature, then the brokenness of these excellent souls is like a silver salute blooming in the sky above our heads. How many dreams and true meanings of life have we drawn from them?
I know that not many people can enjoy this chic happiness and joy as I do, and not many people know how the beauty of this brokenness spreads over the fields and meadows in front of our door as fine and dense as the moonlight tonight.
Who said that the beauty of a flower lies in its bloom? And the bloom is actually the broken heart of the flower ah.
Bravely step forward with your feet
Early in 1940, bombs regularly rained down on the northern German town of Essen. At any time of day or night, the sirens of the air-raid sirens broke through the sky, signaling disaster; groups of panicked citizens swarmed into nearby air-raid shelters, and when the sirens were deactivated, people came out of nowhere, praying that the places they had fled from were still safe and sound and hadn't disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
Sometimes artillery fire hit the many arsenals scattered throughout the industrial city, but more often the bombs destroyed neighborhoods, schools and stores. In the intervals between the wars, the inhabitants of Essen did not forget their God-given mission to get on with their lives, and continued to live their ordinary lives. Children play in the ruins, young people talk about their love affairs, and families mix delicious dinners with rationed food.
My mother, perhaps because she grew up in this era of fear, developed a remarkable strength and courage to face any danger. My mother believed in the motto: "One step forward, even a small one, is far better than a timid one".
Many years ago, I secretly admired my mother's fearlessness, but I didn't know where she got it from. Until the day I was personally confronted with a crisis of faith.
As I always do, I grabbed the phone and asked my mother for advice. After listening to my last rant and concern, my mother took a deep breath and began to tell me a story about "Emma and Papa" (Emma and Papa in German means grandmother and grandfather).
I had already heard a lot of stories about Emma and Papa, and knew that they owned a shoe store in Essen during the Second World War. I also knew that the store had been damaged many times by stray bullets and flying rubble. My favorite part was when my dad asked the family one by one after each blow, "Do you have any arms or legs left?" After receiving an affirmative answer from each person, he loudly proclaimed, "That'll do, we'll be fine!" Then everyone started picking up bricks and rebuilding their homes. They took one hit, and then they rebuilt again and again.
I was ready to hear another story under the bomb. This time, however, the mother was talking about shoes.
"The morning after a holiday, Ema and Ema's father opened the door to the store to find that all the shoes had been stolen, not a single pair left. Even more infuriating, the shoe thieves turned out to be their partners, who left behind a mere pile of unpaid bills and a sample left shoe."
I pictured my grandparents in my mind's eye, frozen in an empty stockroom, facing the challenge of no rations for the whole family, no merchandise to sell - nothing, all that was left was a pile of left-foot sample shoes that had no value at all. In contrast, some of my supposed personal concerns began to recede.
Where was the money going to come from to pay those bills, to fill the stolen order forms? It's not as simple as picking up bricks to rebuild a fallen wall. What this work requires is to rebuild the spirit that was destroyed.
But my mother came from a family of resilient people. She goes on to tell the following story.
"Ema and Ema's father were determined to never give up. They organized those sample shoes and set up a beautiful display in the window on the street. That day, they opened their business as usual, no different from the usual. Customers were attracted to the store by the beautiful display of samples in the window, and they walked into the store and asked to see a certain style. Emma and Epa greeted each customer warmly, gave them measurements, and then walked toward the back of the stock room, which had already been ransacked. Once they were out of sight, they stood calmly and silently counted from one to one hundred. They then returned to the store and told the customers that they did not have the style they wanted in stock in the back warehouse, but would be happy to order it for them. After all, it was not uncommon for goods to sell out in these very years. The wartime shortage of supplies has in turn helped them at this critical juncture."
Before my mother could finish the story, I began to realize that it was not about shoes.
"Customers put down deposits to order shoes, and soon afterward a flood of orders and payments followed, and it was the beautiful display of samples that brought them back from the dead. It was entirely possible that Ema and Ema could have grumbled and closed their doors, waiting to die. But instead of doing that, they bravely showed what they had at the time - a bunch of left-footed sample shoes, and something even more important - an unwavering belief in themselves."
Grandma and Grandpa offered to retire long after the war and then immigrated to the United States. I have often admired their courage in emigrating. They came with hardly any family possessions, but I realize now that they brought everything they needed - a deep-seated belief that if you take one strong step forward, the whole world will follow.
After talking to my mother on the phone that day, I took a big step forward, too.
Life requires endurance
That interview in the winter of ten years ago was a little different from usual, when the editor-in-chief asked me to interview a cancer patient, Shang Qi. He was a young elementary school teacher in a mountain village. Because of his love for the children in the mountains, he gave up the opportunity to stay in the city and work after graduating from college, but five years later he got liver cancer. He taught a group of children who grew up in the snowy mountains, and I wanted to go and examine the snow there. Because I have secretly resolved to bury myself secretly in that white snow.
When I arrived at Snow Mountain Elementary School, the village headman took me to the village elementary school to find him, and he was in class. Looking in through the glass window, I was surprised. He was wearing an old blue cotton shirt, standing on the podium, although he was very thin, his hair was a bit messy, but he did not look like he was sick at all, and he was laughing and smiling.
After class, he came out with the children's cheers, I looked up, he was looking at me with a smile on his face, and his eyes were as deep and serene as the sea in the morning. After the interview he accompanied me to see the snow-capped mountains, looking at the endless snow-capped mountains, I was in a trance.
"What's wrong with you?" His thin hand rested on my shoulder with concern, and there was snow-white chalk dust on the cuff.
"It's so nice here, it's so nice to lie here and turn into snow." I held back the tears for a long time, and they finally didn't fall, but deep inside that deep pity for myself made my heart ache. He looked at me, thoughtful. The children squealed with pleasure and feverishly fought a snowball fight, building three small snowmen.
"Happy snow here." Shanky looked at them and smiled, "The earth brick classrooms are low and narrow, but the children grow taller and taller." After the interview, we had a half-day snowball fight with the children.
The day after I came back to write the article, I fell into the ice cave of despair again. The sadness of married life, tangled quarrels and great loss engulfed me. The heart of the exhausted I packed up, with my favorite red cotton jacket and years of diary. Farewell, all of them, life is so heavy, I want to go to the top of the snowy mountains, the end of this world all the source of trouble.
When I was about to go out, the phone rang, I hesitated whether to pick up this last phone, I thought if I rang enough eight sound I will go to pick up, if not to the break, let it break well. Because I'm 28 years old. The ringer was still ringing insistently.
I put down my duffel bag, trembling hands hesitantly picked up the microphone, a little girl tender and eager voice: "Are you Shi Hong aunt?"
"Yes, which one are you?"
"I am a student of Mr. Shang Qi, he gave me ten dollars, and a letter, instructed me to be sure to call you immediately and send a letter. I ran a long way up the mountain, and the snow was so slippery that it took me three and a half hours to get to the post office at the foot of the mountain. Well, I finally got through!"
"Is he okay?"
"He died the morning before last-" the little girl burst into tears over there, "He told me on his deathbed that there was a deep melancholy in your face, and though he didn't know why you were melancholy, he wanted me to tell you that you must live well and make yourself happy, and he asked you to grant him this last request. I will send his letter to you right away. When you have time, come to Snow Mountain and see Mr. Shang's grave; he is buried on the sunny side of the slope."
I sat there and cried. Shang Qi, a dying man still thinking of a one-sided acquaintance with me, he went away, but saved a person who wanted to go to the snow to die.
Three years ago the doctor told me that I had an incurable disease, this disease is not immediately death, but it makes the gradual loss of immunity, severe anemia, and over time it will be more dangerous and life-threatening ......
Good thing my parents and my husband are very good to me. This year's Valentine's Day, I bought flowers and wine, sitting at home waiting for my dear husband to come back.
The sweet knock on the door rang, I flew over like a pigeon to open the door as fast as I could, a strange woman's face, "Who are you looking for?"
"You are the division red?" The woman's eyes picked a pointed look at me, as if proudly holding a small hammer one by one to hit my head.
"Yes, what's your business?"
"Your husband won't be back tonight, so you don't have to wait for him. To tell you the truth, he doesn't love you anymore and we have been together for two years. If you still have some self-respect, you should let go of him in a big way, think about it, your health is so bad, what can you give him, you are just a burden to him!"
"That's impossible, that's not true!" I cried out in disbelief.
"If it's not true, you can ask that husband of yours!" The woman sailed away. God, he had been the love of my soul, the only pillar of affection, how could I live alone without him! The world seemed to turn upside down in front of me, and I collapsed on the bed bawling my eyes out. Is not I love him love enough, I bear the grief want to try to win back the husband's heart, not moving to double love him, but I found him perfunctory me is just a bunch of lies.
The woman came to my house three times to make a fuss, forcing me to divorce him immediately, I finally couldn't stand it anymore, and asked my husband: "Since you acquiesced to her to the home to quarrel, why do not you propose to divorce me?"
"I ......" It turns out that my husband has not taken the initiative to divorce me because I have a disease, he does not want to fall into the bad reputation of unkindness and injustice. What a worldly and hypocritical reason. The first thing I'd like to say is that I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do with this.
My husband and I are college classmates, the first love of the heart, nine years of feelings were so beautiful, is so roughly thrown in the sludge? Just because of my damn disease? He even left me like no one else to find his lover to go - how cruel life!
That night, I got very drunk. Although the doctor said that I could not drink alcohol for my illness, I woke up early in the morning and realized that my body had not even died. But my spirit was on the verge of collapse, I could not bear this series of fatal blows, the disease attacked me, my husband abandoned me, the people who robbed me of my lover insulted me, everything around me was changing its ways to endlessly hurt me and torment me, they did not let me have a moment's peace, they want to live a fast life, they all want me to disappear as soon as possible. Ah - die, die take? Yes, the world is full of cold mud, full of hideous faces, I have to get away from them, away from the hell that fate has designed for me. Anyway, sooner or later I'm going to die, why don't I go find a clean and beautiful snowy place, didn't Lin Daiyu say that the quality of nature is clean and clean. So I intentionally circled the last interview for the snow mountain elementary school teacher Shang Qi. But I didn't expect him to go faster than me.
A week later I received a letter, the cover neatly written a few bold letters: Ms. Shi Hong received. Inside the envelope contained a watercolor painting, the vast snowy plains, the silence of the snowy plains fluttering a red silk scarf, two gentle big eyes contained in the silk scarf. The bottom of the painting reads: You are the flag in the snow, I am the black eyes watching your life, beautiful winter snow needs cold, joyful life needs endurance. Always be strong and have inner peace. Your friend: Shanky.
Tears overflowed into my eyes, and my heart, which had long forgotten all thoughts of love, opened up, and a hot stream poured into my cold and empty heart. I put this precious painting in an ivory frame and hung it in my bedroom. They expressed to me a silent, wordless and priceless love, inspiring love and courage within me. This gift of a 26-year-old mountain village teacher, a young man with deep steely eyes like a black reef and a wave-like laugh, was the one who taught me how to live passionately in the cold snow of my destiny.
Today, I am the editor-in-chief of a newspaper and have an angelic daughter with an engineer husband who loves me dearly. Three years ago, I was also miraculously cured.
Yes, my friend, the joy of life requires patience, and always believe that after patience, destiny will smile at you fondly.
Yes friend, joyful life requires patience.