Feng Zikai's Spring

Mr. Feng Zikai's spring began in late spring. I didn't know this before. Just like when I read those wonderful texts for the first time, almost all of them slipped through, except for those sentences with great force, which could hold me, otherwise they just slipped through. On the contrary, there are some articles that I have read at the moment, and I feel that they are simple, but I liked it at the time, and even wrote similar sentences in imitation.

Although I don't really care about the childishness of my youth, when facing the guests, I can calmly face the photos of those open-crotch pants dragging my nose, and even point to these funny appearances and laugh with the guests. But still a little curious. Why do you like words like this? So what, I'm slowly not liking it anymore?

Today I read Mr. Feng Zikai's words about spring, and I seem to have gained a little insight. But this insight is nothing, there is really no need to write it, because it may not be right or wrong. It's just an accidental sigh, recalled, often many years ago. The twilight is dark, but it is still bright, and the sights that have disappeared have never been forgotten.

... Actually, spring is not such a happy season. I have accumulated thirty-six years of experience, and I know that the spring before the late spring is very unpleasant in life.

The plum blossoms opened with snow, saying that it was leaking news of spring. But this is completely spiritual spring. In fact, it is raining and snowing, and the north wind is fierce. How is it different from the severe winter? The so-called people who welcome the spring are just hiding in the room, standing tremblingly under the eaves, looking at the plum blossoms like dead branches! (Feng Zikai "Spring")

After so many years, I have forgotten the true feelings I once had. It seems that only those bright, soft, warm and bright flowers are left in the spring; in fact, as the quote said, I can feel the sharp spring cold every year in early spring, when a cold wave from an unknown distance is repeated. Alternately, there is still the feeling of shrinking.

It's not because Mr. Feng Zikai wrote a strange thing, it's just that we forgot our honest feelings first, but we lost our truest feelings in those familiar words.

A Zen master told his disciples that the biggest secret is to relearn feelings. Those things that we have experienced and forgotten since we were born, we all go to find our hearts again.

Disciples are confused, do they have to study again after eating and sleeping?

Zen master asked, do you really know?

The disciple said, of course.

When eating in the dining hall, the master asked, "Which tooth do you use to touch the rice grain first?"; when the novice went to sleep, the master asked, "How do you place your arm?"; when he woke up again, the master left another sentence The words "How did your door open?"; this day was spent in the question.

The disciple suddenly knelt down. He said reverently: I really do not know, how to complete this day? When I eat, I don't know how to eat before; when I sleep, my arms can't rest; when I wake up this morning, I don't remember how to open the door... This day, I arrived early in the morning. Tonight, nothing will change...

The Zen master knocked on the wooden fish.

The story is over.

The spring that I know is also slowly beginning to re-aware in this way.

It seems that a person we can see every day occupies most of our life, but if one day he disappears, I answer other people's questions, but I can't remember his usual clothes color, facial features, or even Even fat, thin, tall and short have become blurred. On the contrary, it is not as good as a distant friend who has never met. Even if he has not seen him for ten or eight years and meets him on the street, he can still call his name in one sentence.

I know, this is common sense in life.

The past is not just the accumulation of days, nor all the worlds we have ever been in contact with.

Our world exists only within us. When you see the cold wind and hear the rain beating on the glass windows, you know that it is the season of early spring. The days are getting longer and longer, but the cold has not changed. Instead, in the contrast between the inside and outside of the house, I feel a kind of rustling. "Half Jiang Sesu half Jiang Hong", but unfortunately it is not yet late spring. Such a verse said so, and it also pulled Bai Juyi's sleeves and made me a patch. And my truth is only in the buds on the branches that have not yet bloomed, and also in the birds that flew back early, passing over the enlightened water, and seemed to be chasing the joy they once had. It also reminds me of another author's world:

The snow in the south of the Yangtze River is so moisturizing and beautiful; it is the news of youth that is still looming, and it is the skin of a very strong virgin. In the snowy fields, there are blood-red Baozhu camellia, single-petaled plum blossoms with hidden green in white, wax plum blossoms in deep yellow qingkou, and cold green weeds under the snow. Butterfly really didn't; whether the bees came to pick honey from camellias and plums; I can't really remember. But before my eyes, I seemed to see winter flowers blooming in the snow field, and many bees were busy flying, and I could hear them buzzing. (Lu Xun "Snow")

I have been to the rainy south of the Yangtze River, and I have also gone from the ice field to the islands where spring is always present, but this is the past after all, and I have actually forgotten everything I have experienced. Dreams are real, but reality is illusory. It seems that in the change of time, a layer of mist gradually evaporates from life, making the window looking into the distance, hazy and indistinguishable.

I finally raised my head and felt the suffocation after the mist, so I reached out and wiped it.

The cool mist, under the warm palm, gradually melted and converged into water droplets, which fell from the glass surface in a meandering stream.

I saw a world that I used to know, but because of my feelings, it became bright again.

This is Mr. Feng Zikai's evening grass color.

This kind of beauty is not seen in early spring. At that time, there were dead grass everywhere in the mountains, and the eyes were full of haggard colors, which was unpleasant to see. It must come in late spring, when the withered grass is gone, then the green mountains and green fields will appear, and the world will be a new one . A good year, nothing more than this time. Nature's grace towards people is also the deepest at this time . (Feng Zikai "Spring")