How lucky I am, because I am not a meteorologist, and I don’t need to know how the clouds are formed or what is in the airflow, but I can use my eyes to collect the flowing clouds in the sky and savor the most abstract beauty in my heart.
How lucky I am, because I am not a zoologist. I don’t know what birds fly by. I only know the magical wings in the sun, which often makes me feel the traces of angels flying between the blue sky and white clouds.
How lucky I am, because I am not a botanist, I still don’t understand the principle of photosynthesis, but I will almost stubbornly love the simplest green, and I firmly believe that no matter how small the forest is, there will be cute elves.
How lucky I am, because I am not a geologist, so I don’t need to accurately calculate how many years it will take for the waves to turn a rock into the shape of a goddess, and I will transcend time and space to imagine how God uses invisible hands in the dark night to be ingenious. Carved.
How lucky I am, because I am not a politician or lawyer who needs to lie, nor a doctor who needs to perform operations on people. I am not even an artist who needs to calculate costs before the exhibition. So what am I? I am nothing, and I don’t know anything about this world. This may be my luck.
How lucky we are to know exactly what kind of world we live in.
Wang Hong from “All Things Are Quiet as a Mystery”
