Chapter 75 Three cups of agarwood

Last Christmas, I saw Pope Paul VI "offering incense" at midnight mass in the Vatican on TV. It was sandalwood in a golden bowl, and it was being lit. It is said that with this fragrant incense, the voices of the people's prayers can be raised to heaven.I saw the Pope holding an incense bowl and slowly shaking it to pray, and the cigarettes curled up, and I felt an inexplicable move in my heart.Suddenly, I remembered an incident in my childhood. When I learned that there was Catholicism in addition to Buddhism and Taoism, I was already a second-grade student in primary school.

Once I asked my father, what is the difference between Catholicism and our Buddhism and Taoism?My father said casually: "They don't worship, and they don't burn incense." This answer is probably correct, but later I found that "pray" is not different from "bye" in essence, but I have never known whether Western religions burn incense or not. . When I see the Pope burning incense on the altar, that feeling brings back my childhood experiences from the corridors of distant memories.The incense in the pope's hand is the same as the incense placed in front of the ancestor's altar, in a deeper sense, they both ascend from the ordinary world to the heaven we yearn for.

Once I went to a Hindu temple and found that the ancient Hindu religion also burns incense. Why do the gods of Dashang know our wishes after burning incense?When did this legend begin?I have no idea.In my opinion, the smoke that rises invisible, because we don't know where it flies, we just watch it dissipate in the air, and become the sustenance of our hearts and wishes. Burning incense is the strangest thing. Whenever you see a stick of incense, you will have the power to stabilize your mind. Believe that the incense is not just a wisp of smoke, but in a distant place, there is a god who uses that wisp of smoke , listened to our voices.

A friend came back from a foreign country and gave me a bouquet of exotic Tibetan incense. The sachet was filled with delayed and distorted Tibetan words.Because it comes from the cold north, it is so difficult to turn around, so I have been reluctant to light it, as if after using it, it burns out, and I will lose something. Since spring, it has rained for dozens of days in a row. People's hearts seem to be pickled by the rain, turning sour and moldy. Walking around the house every day is really depressing. Open the window, the filaments of the spring rain float into the house with the breeze, and the room always has a damp smell. One day, a bonsai of my beloved goldenrod had a withered appearance due to the continuous rain. Looking at the Kirin Grass, I suddenly felt sad and confused.

I took out the bouquet of Tibetan exotic incense from the cabinet and lit one on the incense table.The incense is thicker than the incense in ordinary temples, and its smoke is also condensed, and it spreads around after three feet, and the room is suddenly filled with a fragrance. The incense feels warm and dry, resisting the humidity in the house.I sit at the desk, neither read nor work, just meditate quietly, let my mind gather together like a stick of incense, the melancholy and confusion slowly fade away, and my heart slowly wakes up. I like rain, but rain should be an interlude of sunny days, not the main theme of the weather; once rain becomes the main theme of the weather, people's moods are like rain, intertwined and unable to find a center of gravity.However, there is nothing to be done if it rains all the time, so let's light a stick of incense in the house at this time!

A stick of incense is very small, but it is like a gazebo in the field of heavy rain, which has preserved a piece of pure land for me - at that time, in the rain in the south of the Yangtze River, there was still the style of the Tibetan grassland. Drinking tea is often not for quenching thirst, but for fun, especially drinking Kung Fu tea, which is a small cup, which cannot be drunk in one gulp, but a little bit of fine sipping. Among all the teas, Dong Ding Oolong is my favorite.Dongding is not as floating as Xiangpian, not as astringent as Qingcha, not as bitter as Pu'er, and not as hard as Tieguanyin; its taste is simple, its color is golden, and it can be tasted carefully.

A friend knew that I love Dongding, and sent a jar of old Dongding that had been stored for many years. The word "Agarwood" was written on the jar.Although the oolong is clumsy, it still has a little sweetness, but the agarwood hides the sweetness and fragrance, leaving only the real clumsiness, without the slightest anger, as if it has been filtered from memory; memory is sometimes tasteless, but there are thousands of layers. The depth of the ravine makes people immerse themselves in it, not knowing the passage of time. The Chinese say that there are seven things to open the door: firewood, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, and tea. Tea is a respectful companion. I think that if there is "agarwood" to drink, it will jump forward and can be ranked in the front. Location.

The best thing is of course to light a stick of incense in the house on a rainy day. When the light rain floats outside the house like a star, soak a pot of agarwood, watch the smoke curl up, and the tea fragrance fill your chest. At that time, you can really pamper yourself. The realm of forgetting all humiliation. — April 13, 1983