Chapter 25 embrace

In the past six months, my favorite writer is EB White, and I read his collection of letters in my free time.He wrote mostly about his daily life on a farm in Maine with 15 sheep, 112 red hens, 36 white rock hens, 3 geese, a dog, a tomcat, a pig and a cage mouse .He talked about all kinds of ordinary and trivial things in a gentle and gentle manner. After I read it, I realized that he was really detached.I thus find that such things as refinement and grace attract me more than ever.In the past, I admired people like Picasso and Roland Barthes more. Their talents are more dazzling, like strong lights that cannot be seen directly.White is little more than afternoon shade in comparison.But the shade is truly remarkable.The Wind of White is a fascination for me, and a model on a larger scale.After White's death, the "New York Times" obituary said, "Like the First Amendment of the Constitution, EB White's principles and style live forever."

Presumably I'm becoming a softer person to appreciate White.The ancients liked to talk about "mellowness". If it is not understood as tactful in a vulgar way, but interpreted as mellowness, enlightenment without hindrance, humility and unhurried approach to true knowledge, I think it is worth appreciating. People often say that life is a long journey, and it is true.Years ago, I would never have imagined that I would be interested in White, let alone lead the life I have now.I was a completely different person then, and now I am more like an irreversible other.We are always aware of the existence of self, this self seems to have thoughts, seems to have opinions, plans life and tries to control life, but in the end you will find that self is very small.It's always amazing that you've gone places you thought you'd never go.

What is life?Confucianism says, "Respect the beginning, be cautious about the end, and pursue the distant." Zhuangzi said, "Death and life are also great." We have reverence, exploration, and contemplation, but we still have no way of understanding what life is.Whether it is the unfathomable creation, or the name of God, or the truth, the "Tao" that permeates the green grass and green bamboos, in fact, we don't know anything about it.We're just going down the river like a night voyage.When I was young, I never thought that there would be good articles to read, people and things to experience in this life. I was innocent and simple at that time, and I didn’t know that civilization had been managed for thousands of years. It was an unexpected joy to welcome me suddenly.Compared with all the details of life, this is the big fate.All this around is not a matter of course, but a miracle.I don't know what life is and why, but I feel that I live on a rare planet where microorganisms change the structure of the air and insects busily connect life together, where there are seasons, ocean currents , has an exquisite and vibrant system, which is very lucky.In terms of probability, I have won the first prize.I believe nothing is normal, existence is a miracle, desolation is normal, life is a miracle.

I was not interested in Chinese culture when I was younger.I think foreign books are good-looking, while Chinese books are naive in understanding and old in breath.But now, my mind is like a water urn, filled with what may be called "Chinese consciousness".This kind of consciousness is to have a special preference for nature, not only to appreciate its beauty, but also to believe that it contains truth, and to find the criterion for living and living in it.The typical Chinese spirit is to be harmonious with all things in nature.I think this type of Chinese is rare, but I became such a person unexpectedly.

I would think that in the current Sanlitun, a place with crystal lights and fragrant clothes, one day there will be cattle and sheep grazing.There will be no more booze, dancing and rock 'n' roll, no more limos and lights, and crickets, trees and ponds will be the masters again.Early frost sent the hummingbirds away, the west wind was cold, the autumn rain was drizzling, and there was silence.It's not poetry, it's not surrealist fantasies or Zhuang Zhou's essays, it's what's bound to happen.As long as it is placed in a long enough time period, it must be the case.Prosperity is not the norm, nor is it permanent in one place.People and things always accept and communicate with each other, and there is no reason why human beings will never miss what they give and take.

By then, I may have been dead for a thousand years, and of course this little article would have long since disappeared.But when I think about it, I have no fear. When I was young, I wanted to live a splendid life. The epitaph should say something like "His radiance illuminated a dark corner".At the age of 30, I think the posthumous evaluation can be more quiet, "the style of the gentleman, the mountains are high and the waters are long" is good.Now I don't think about it anymore.This is not the result of low ambition, but the realization of the most important things in life and the prerequisite for the realization of ambition.Life is short, happy sometimes, I think the real important thing is to live respectfully.I take "vanilla beauty" as a spiritual measure, and slowly learn to be a modest gentleman.This is a moral law, but it is not always true when it comes to the essence. In fact, Jiade Yixing comes from the heart, and it is more of an aesthetic experience.

That's what a good life is all about. On one side, hormones, vanity and desire are like a raging fire, burning until death; on the other side, compassion, kindness and love, and personality cultivation can also be endless.Of course, for a bad life, meanness and tyranny can also be endless.The latter type of people and their organizations may be rich and powerful, but not dicks.We have another world to fall back on.Zweig said in "Yesterday's World" that he went to Russia to visit Tolstoy's cemetery, walked through the narrow path, in the forest, and saw that there was neither a tombstone nor a name on the cemetery, only a square mound, It is covered with green grass.This is where the soul of great Russia lives.A long time ago, I didn't think about Tolstoy, his writing was so dull, but after reading his, I was suddenly shocked.how to say?I have learned a lot.A person, mortal, mortal, can really live almost divine.There are so many things, noble and clean, we often don't believe them, dismiss them, "Hey, that's nonsense!" In fact, we have never seen them.Zweig has seen it, and he said that among the sights seen in Russia, there is nothing more magnificent and moving than Tolstoy's tomb.I think that if a person looks up to the world and embraces them, he will definitely feel that he is a little bit similar to Tolstoy and Zweig, and this counts as joining their party, right?Then I am also a branch of green grass in front of the tomb.