Life

The Meaning of Eternity and the Good State of Life

In pursuit of eternal meaning, people tirelessly ask wise men. The wise man led them to a vast stone forest and said: “The formation of the stone forest is the result of thousands of years, but do you know which stone was the first to land here?”

Everyone shook their heads. The wise man said: “Go and find it, and you will find eternity.”

Eternity cannot be said, only felt.

The little monk made a mistake and was punished by his master to face the wall in his room. The little monk pleaded: “Can you let me open the skylight?” The master asked: “Why?” Help me reveal the monster in my heart.”

The master said, “Then lie down on the bamboo chair in the yard.”

I like to sit on the rocks and bask in the sun. Behind the stone, dark and damp, is the world of small bugs. I sat on the sunny side, and the little bugs were on the dark side. We had a great time, and we didn’t bother each other. Some naughty children lifted the stone and watched the little bugs fleeing in panic and rushing to another place. They danced and danced, but I was depressed. I thought, behind the appearance, there is always another different world, why bother them!

A blind man was walking alone on a night road with a lamp. He didn’t want to show the way, nor did he want to show the way for others, he just didn’t want others to bump into him. The blind man said he was not a lamp, but he did not want to be a burden to others.

If so, you are not a lamp, but at least you cannot blow out other people’s lamps.

A few tables away, I could tell at a glance that the person who wrote the poem opposite was very kind! Why are eyes so poisonous? I think I smell his bones and hear the wind from his chest.

I think that the real good state must be narrow to make wide, dark to get light, and small to get big. The wind injected into the soul, blowing on the lamp in a leisurely manner, helps it to be brighter just right, instead of blowing it out.

When I take a photo with a tree, I hope that in the eyes of the tree, I am another tree, a tree worthy of the leaves of its heart to communicate with me.

I put on a turquoise coat, went to the yard, among the trees, and listened to the birds singing happily. Mandshurica mandshurica, Chinese locust tree, pentagonal maple, and crabapple trees are lush and luxuriant. A sparrow suddenly flew onto my shoulder, it regarded me as a tree. Will it be strange, how can my tree move around? Although I dress up as a tree, I am not necessarily more thoughtful than a real tree. I think the tree is the real wise man – rooted down, stretched up, moving all the time, but we can’t see its slow motion with our own eyes.

Graduated from Harvard University, not looking for a job, cutting down trees to build a house by myself, living alone in the forest, not eating steak, like watching ants fight, watching bass swimming, listening to owl howling at midnight, reading the eyes of a quail… Shuttle Luo told us with practical actions that a person can live a good life in his own wind.

There was a timid pigeon who kept spying on me. Where did I arouse its curiosity? A timid but curious little elf is one of the cutest things in this world. It made me understand that pouring the sound of wind into some things can make them light and spread out the appearance of the soul on the wings of the wind.

I think of the winter many years ago, it was very cold, there was only one stove in the classroom, and the heat was not evenly distributed to every corner. No way, I had to let the students change seats so that every student can feel a little heat. One of the windows was leaking, so my students and I covered it with newspapers. Inadvertently, I found that a short article of mine was published in that newspaper, and I felt a little sacred, and my words were also useful, at least to keep the students out of the cold.

I stand in the world and feel a little relieved. I will grow old, but my words are still full of vitality. How lucky I am to write these words. Even if I go there one day, as long as someone still reads my words, the light that belongs to me will still shine in the world, and the wind that belongs to me will still blow in the world.

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