Practice being alone: ​​when I started to love myself

Chapter 2 I finally started to be myself (2)
I pinned the brooch to the lapel of my coat and went to the Isle of Wight to see the white cliffs there.Under the cold sky, the wind howled.And there is this small never-extinguishing flame on the front of my clothes, which always feels warm.

When I finished my work and returned home, and was studying ink and writing under the lamp late at night, I suddenly understood all of her thoughts on doing this.

Because I also prefer the process of writing rather than the result, even including the process of finding a brush that weighs my hand.But there is always an end to everything, just like we have tried repeatedly to keep the flowers in full bloom but we can only regret it.

Just like when traveling in Sri Lanka, the Buddha statues that can be seen everywhere are always filled with lotus and jasmine worshiped by believers. Some of them are carefully woven and complicated; some are small bouquets picked by themselves, simple and free.They were all yellowing and withering under the Buddha's gaze, and then a fresh bouquet would arrive tomorrow.

This is the truth of life, the unstoppable cycle of reincarnation in the world of mortals.The doomed bleak ending behind the hustle and bustle.There is no need to be greedy for every moment of life, but it is so sensitive that it deserves to be treated with caution.

And these brooches of the ball are probably the interception commemoration of a certain moment in these processes.It's like the gesture of the believers handing over flowers after the silent recitation.

It has disappeared forever, but it also remains forever, becoming one of countless moments strung together for eternity.

I sent the Heart Sutra to London, and then the ball integrated those characters into the gum one by one, making a unique brooch that cannot be duplicated.The rice paper dissolves under high temperature, leaving only cinnabar writing, suspended in the void.

Finally without beginning and without end.

Looking at the photos sent by Qiu in the intervals of countless client meetings, I feel that there may be another self hidden under every busy appearance.They live quietly on the other side of life, trying to keep a moment of light for us who can't stop.Only when we finally get tired of chasing one day can we meet again.

And I'm getting tired of this game we play.

You believe
Children always love the circus, is it because only there can they harmlessly experience the grandeur and impermanence of life?

When I was in kindergarten, my mother took me to see a circus show, and when the opening clown laughed and came to hold my hand, I burst into tears.

Clowns in fine costumes and perfume in Venice's St. Mark's Square, clowns in balloon costumes on stilts in Amsterdam's Dam Square, ragged, hobbled alcoholic clowns in London's Covent Garden May Puppet Fair.

I often see them, standing alone in the unrecognizable street scene, when they look back, big tears hang on their cheeks.He always reminded me that we are just wayward children, and the happiness that can be held in our hands is nothing but an ice cream.

Before the ice cream melts, you have to learn to hide your tears.

I like to stand in the center of the fireworks at the finale show of the circus and look up, as if walking in the brilliant starry sky.Because it's short, it's always cheered with all my heart and soul.Even though it's unlikely, I want to say that I want to live my life without any worries.

The moment I saw you later, it seemed like fireworks were blooming. I suddenly understood how some love stories happened and what kind of ending they would have.

I think the only thing that can rival the bliss you get is the ease you get out of.Therefore, gaining and losing such similar things may be the same thing.

do you know?It is said that the shells on the beach are discarded debris from the sea, but a roaring wave wanted to sweep away a white shell I found, and it took a long way to get it back.The whole beach heard me yelling at the sea: Don't go back on your word, bastard!
You deliberately took a long way to send me home.The lights on the viaduct flashed past in my eyes.Sometimes, your heart is as clear as Lu Shu.Sometimes your mind can feel like an endless maze.So I let the wind blow my hair and said nothing.

We don't need to be the best and the best, just meeting someone who understands you is enough.The problem is that many people mistakenly think the latter is easier.

In the dream after parting, I went back to that early morning again and again, watching us say goodbye in the wind, with a distance of two hands' width between us.But the fluttering corners of my clothes betrayed me, expressing my earnest yearning and reluctance for you.

If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me. —WH Auden
There was a strong wind in the early hours of this morning, and there seemed to be the sound of countless birds flapping their wings in my ears.I like to sleep in the wind, feeling like a fish going upstream in a turbulent stream, passing through this endless world with a still posture.When I woke up, the floor was completely white.It turned out that I forgot to press the stack of manuscript paper on the desk last night, so it flew all over the ground with the wind, and went all the way to the back study through the corridor.When he went out and passed the blooming Albizia julibrissin trees, his loose linen jacket was filled with wind, just like the morning when Jiang Jize left Cao Qiqiao, his white silk shirt was full of white pigeons.

You are always smiling too, but there is so much in your eyes, as deep and wide as rivers.Looking at your face, it seems to be looking out at the twilight field, there is a slight coolness in the wind, and I feel sad in my heart.

When I think about it later, not only love, but also many things in life, we actually only make the decision that seems to be the most correct at that moment, and what can be weighed is definitely not love.

June is almost over, and the rainy season is finally here.

Cool breeze has faith.The change of seasons is just like the grand and impermanent alternation in life.When you complied, you became quiet.

a traveler

We are all people with firm hearts, so we decided to spend our lives chasing the scenery.

About 350 years ago, Nanjing had a warm winter.

Li Rihua wrote in his diary that day: "In winter, it is cloudy and warm, and it is raining heavily, just like spring and summer steaming."

I used to be naive and rebellious, thinking that if I love life so much, I must not be able to accept its incompleteness.

Later, I realized that this world has no end.

Life and death cannot simply be confused with life.Nor can life be reduced to being alive.

At Nanjing Lukou Airport that day, I said that this might be the last time I passed by this airport.When we parted, I gave my friend Daniel a second-hand original English version of "Flying West at Night". "Write something," he demanded, "preferably desperate sentences, I'm fed up with unrealistic tenderness."So I wrote this sentence on the title page with the last drop of ink in the pen:

We fly a little every day. We die a little as well. We fly a little every day. We die a little as well.

After watching it, Daniel said: "Yes, time is running out, don't waste it." He flew to Singapore and then transferred to South America.I drove back to my residence.

Now I have translated "Night Flight to the West" word by word into Chinese, and the Chinese translation has also been republished in hardcover.

"An idealist should follow his own heart." Daniel replied after hearing about it.

One month after the separation, Daniel sent a text message saying that on the last day of leaving South America, he dreamed of me in the hotel in Buenos Aires.I asked: "Have you finished reading the book?" Such a good dream, but unfortunately I am the person in the dream, not the one who dreamed.

When he went up to Machu Picchu on Christmas Eve, I was having a hard time talking to my then boss about work and he was going to cut my budget.When I saw Daniel’s text message saying that I finally arrived at Machu Picchu, I thought of the sentence in Neruda’s long poem "The Top of Machu Picchu": I saw ancient stone buildings embedded in the green Andean peaks.The torrent leaked from the castle that had been eroded by wind and rain for hundreds of years... Finally, I couldn't hold back, let out a sigh, and closed the meeting notes in front of me.

The boss was startled and said, "What? It's just a budget."

I held up the phone to him.

"Machu Picchu? The Inca?" he said. "You people are just too idealistic."

It is said that around the 15th century, the powerful Inca Empire chose to build this majestic city with huge stones among the mountains at an altitude of 2400 meters, just to get closer to the sun.After building such an idealistic city, leaving many riddles behind, they disappeared.As if Icarus, who flew to the sun on waxed wings, fell at the closest approach.

At the end of the meeting, I sent a text message to Daniel and asked him: "Are you tired after walking so far?" He replied: "It's such a long journey in life. After walking for decades, what I'm afraid of is not tiredness, but boredom."

Soon I finally quit my white-collar job, and my first stop was the South Pacific.Across the seasons and the equator, as Daniel said, go as far as you can.

When I was living on a small island in the Fiji Islands, I decided to try a night dive that I had never been brave enough to experience.The instructor checked my gear on the pier and gave me a flashlight before going into the water, no more words.There was a heavy rain during the night dive, and there was only a faint crackling sound underwater. When I looked up, I could still see the lightning in the mountains in the distance between the bubbles, like a broken light bulb, flickering and flickering.

The coach signaled to turn off the flashlight, and I found plankton floating around with us like fireflies.A rare pink starfish with transparent, soft tentacles passed over my shoulder.

The ocean at night is so similar to the cosmic starry sky.When we dive deeper, it feels like heading into the universe, like Icarus flying to the sun.

It turns out that being an idealistic traveler is so free and beautiful.

The end point of that trip was Tavayuni Island, the farthest place I have ever been, and the date line crossed here, so we met here yesterday and today.

Dark-skinned children were playing in the waterfall in the mountains. A little boy leaned out of the rapids and put a black stone in my hand.It's black volcanic rock, its edges worn away.I said:
"Thanks. You're a lot like a friend I had when I was a kid." He smiled and plunged back into the turbulence.

The boy from the neighboring village was in the same class as me. He was three years older than me. He was in the same class as me because he repeated a grade.

His grades were so poor that the teacher didn't want to give him tutoring, so the teacher arranged for him to sit at the same table with me, and he could ask me how to solve math problems and how to write essays at any time.But he never asked me any questions, just sat in silence.Later, I spread out the homework I had done, and he was not polite, copying it quickly.After copying, I still don’t say anything.

Once I met him on the way to my grandma’s house to play, but suddenly he came up to talk to me and asked, “Are you free?” I replied, “Yes, what are you doing?”

He thought about it, and said solemnly: "My dog ​​is dead, you can bury it with me."

I said: "Okay."

He went back and brought the dog. The dog was not big, maybe only three or four months old. It was a common native dog.It is said that native dogs are better-tempered than famous dogs, and know how to like people best.Sometimes dog dealers take good-looking native dogs as fakes, and few people come to return them, because they are reluctant to keep them.This little dog looks like a good dog at first glance, even after death, he is very obedient and obedient.

"The dog died and was thrown into the field," I said.

He said, "No." He said firmly.

I led the way, and he followed behind with the dog in his arms.At that time, he was only in the second grade, even if he was a few years older than me, he was young after all, and he had to stop for a rest soon.I just stood by and waited, trying to say something comforting, but finally gave up.

We walked along the ridge for a long time, with one foot deep and one shallow.I'm desperately trying to find a better place, like trying to solve a math problem.He was struggling more and more, sweating profusely, but he still kept silent and followed silently. He probably wasn't satisfied with the places he passed.

In the end, I found the slope of the river and hid it behind the reeds. It was so quiet that I could only hear the wind blowing through the reed leaves and the sound of water.I looked back at him, and he nodded, "Just here."

He put the puppy gently on the green grass and began to dig a hole.I picked up a piece of broken tiles to help him. The cut grass on the slope bleeds green blood, and the blood has a clear fragrance.

The pit was dug very deep, and I densely spread the surrounding grass in it.After he gently put the puppy into the pit, he suddenly asked worriedly: "Do you think it will be cold?"

I thought about it seriously and said, "After covering it with soil, it probably won't. Why don't you hold it for a while longer."

He shook his head and began to fill in the soil, as if making up his mind.

Then we went home one after the other.

He still didn't talk to me after that, and he still failed every exam.His grades were so poor that his parents went to tell his fortune, and the fortune teller said that the problem was his name, which had to be changed.It turns out that he only named one "Sen", which is the superposition of three "wood". When we call a person "wood", we call him "stupid".

But he was too stubborn. After changing his name, he was still the same, still failing, and still repeating grades.Later, he repeated too many grades. In order to protect this precious place, the teachers would not let him repeat a grade. He finally graduated from primary school and continued to repeat grades in junior high school.

I don't know how the puppy died or when he graduated.We never saw each other again.

Now I am like the volcanic rock in my hand, most of the edges and corners have been smoothed by time, sitting on the shore watching the children go upstream in the magnificent sunset at dusk.

But I firmly believe that my old tablemate, who was so stubborn in keeping silent, must now break free from the torrents of the world with his own stubbornness, floating leisurely in a corner of the world as if he was in the center of a warm ocean current.

After so many years, I finally set foot on the same river as him.

Beautiful people
Did not expect to actually receive sleeping pills from him.As he said, the bed must be found before taking the medicine.Because the effect of these white pills is not so much chemical as it is physical, and when they attack, they can make you lose consciousness instantly like a blow to the head.

One second before I lost consciousness, I saw the magnolia tree on the day I first met, shaking my head in the wind, and the icy fragrance was like a torrential rain, spraying the heads and faces of passers-by.

When shooting the project of Spanish ceramic artists, the host arranged for an interpreter to assist me.He called three days before the shooting, and his voice was as young as a white dove flapping its wings in the morning light.After declaring his home, he said, "I'm sorry, but there is something I have to talk to you about. That's it. I just got the report from the hospital today, and I tested positive for HIV. If you don't mind, I'll ask the company to arrange another translation for you."

I thought about it and said, "Thanks for calling, but that's okay, I don't mind."

He fell silent on the other end of the line, thanked him politely after a moment, and hung up.

On the shooting day, I was troubled by insomnia for a long time, and I appeared at the shooting location with messy hair and red eyes. There was already a boy cleaning the studio.He took off his mask and said, "You are here."

I have never seen such a beautiful face.Among those pure white porcelain statues is the most moving one, lively and fragrant.

At that moment three words came to mind: unfair.His beautiful face that melts the air around him, and the diseases in his body that cannot be defeated by medicine are not fair.

After the shooting, he helped me pack the equipment, and I offered to buy him a drink to express my gratitude.He readily agreed, and drove me to a restaurant with an open-air cafe in a small Porsche sports car.When he parked the car under the magnolia tree and came over quickly to open the door, I felt that the dream of girlhood was being played out in a way that was not designed.

I ordered coffee and chips and he ordered hot milk.When the waiter served the drink, he handed me the milk: "You look like you haven't had a good sleep for hundreds of years, drink the milk and go back to rest."

"It's getting worse and worse, and my memory is starting to blur."

"I'll find a medicine for you. I know a very good doctor. That way you won't forget me."

I smiled: "If you are so good at talking, you should be able to remember it for a while."

He was quiet, and suddenly said, "I'm sorry, I was actually very rude that day."

I looked at him, noncommittal.

"I mean call you and tell you about my condition."

"You just want someone to talk about it, don't you?"

He smiled: "Yes, although the result has been expected, but when it is confirmed, I will still panic."

"Your family, will you tell them?"

"When I told my dad that I never liked the opposite sex, he waved and slapped me across the face. Then I never went home." He drank his coffee with such a calm tone that he was almost slaughtered, as if he had already decided Don't want to bother fighting for anything.

"Of course I didn't run away from home because of that slap. It's not that I haven't been beaten, not to mention my dad who did it. But I can't face him. No matter how hard you try, as long as you let him down, then you owe it all." his."

Life is a gift, the gift is too heavy, the recipient can only be grateful, can not refuse, and has no right to dispose of it at will.

"You probably think I'm stupid?" Seeing that I didn't talk to him, he said a little embarrassedly.

"Live well," I said, trying to dip the ketchup on my fries like a match.

"Don't be sad, I've lived a good life."

礼物
On my 16th birthday, my father gave me a red motorcycle as a birthday present, probably the smallest model he could find.To this day, I still remember that early summer evening, when I picked up the scooter from the car dealership and drove my father home.From the rearview mirror, I saw Wanxia and my father's serious expression.Before he got home, he secretly told me: "Don't tell your mother, you drove the car back."

And the 19th birthday present was a second-hand car.Dad didn't say anything, just handed me the car keys.I took advantage of the summer vacation to ride a motorcycle to test my driver's license.

It was the first official job, and the gift was also a car, the same bright red color as the little motorcycle back then.

After returning home from get off work, after dinner, he suddenly remembered: "Would you like to go to the garage to see your presents?" He still just handed me the keys and nothing else.

Just like when he went abroad to study at the age of 22, he only asked at the airport: "Have you brought your credit card?"

His almost blind trust has created a me who is not afraid of fear, and unconsciously learned to deal with many difficulties in life with his unique sense of humor.

(End of this chapter)