Every autumn, I am always attracted by the red leaves of Parthenocissus tricuspidata on the iron fence behind the teaching building and the misty fog deep in the distant mountains. On a sunny day and in the rain, I looked at it for a long time, either slightly drunk or disappointed, thinking about the ups and downs of life, grateful and resentful. Day after day, the leaves on the trees in the forest are falling off, and you have a feeling of holding autumn in your arms.
A long sick leave, like a lonely goose, aggravated loneliness, and the days were as plain as clear soup noodles. The impulse to write words is getting less and less, and I am much slower to change the weather. Look at the clouds floating outside the window on sunny days, and look at the rain outside the window on rainy days. The flowers on the windowsill are complacent and open, and I am relatively speechless. The number of words is getting less and less every day. Living in a humble abode, I bought a big stack of books, turned pages, circled a little, and forgot everything for three or two minutes. My mind was so simple that I was surprised by myself. It seems that I have really cultivated to the realm of "inner tranquility".
In the morning, I went to the Woods to exercise. The leaves on the wall are lovely red, so I stopped to admire them. I feel like water seeping from a crack in the rock and ticking. There are birds singing softly in my ear. A cat, taking a leisurely walk, met me and snuggled up on my knee, rubbing my trouser legs and refused to leave. Its clear eyes are clearly courting. Laugh at it. I feel very relaxed when I secretly untie all kinds of ropes that bind me.
In recent years, students always try to get together. When the table is served, some people usually wear suits and ties, which is very formal. They simply took off their ties and drank a few glasses of loose wine, like actors who took off their makeup, showing a bit of innocence. At first, it was half-hearted, and soon it came to all. The wine sang beautifully and the fragrance of the wine resounded throughout the house. Or fight for a glass of wine to make you superior, or belittle each other, or fight for wine for our female classmates like a flower head, occasionally mixed with some dirty jokes. Look carefully, where is the solemnity of being an official? I was a playmate who played house when I was a child, pure and lovely. And we will be compiled into countless touching youth stories by them, and will be praised by them as young beauties in our hearts. All people are ignorant, as simple as the beginning of life, laughing and making noise one after another.
After drinking, you must sing and dance. The night is thick, and the traffic lights in the bar are ambiguous and gentle, bold with alcohol. Nobody cares whether you sing well or not, all you want is to be happy. This one is dancing yangko in dance music, and that one is obviously playing Tai Chi. The crooked-neck tree practices its lines with great emotion, which is very emotional. The curtain will be opened with me for everyone, and the best artistic bel canto songs will be presented. The melody began, but the lyrics were forgotten at every eye, which caused everyone to burst into laughter. Brothers and sisters, songs are "howling", popular, bel canto, affectionate and playful. Jump from one song to another, disco, three steps, four steps, or elegant or chaotic. Just kidding. Cheers. At this moment, all the confusion and fatigue have been thrown aside, only to indulge the romantic happiness that has been deeply hidden behind the daily necessities.
There are a lot of wishful thinking and affection for you in a person's life, just because we artificially add a weight called disappointment to the balance of life, so the tentacles of pain are much more sensitive to the feeling of happiness.
I remember discussing many puzzles in love and marriage with a close friend. He said, "people always think that others have changed after their experiences, and the ideological gap will bring them a great sense of loss and even refuse to forgive a certain life." However, if you reflect on yourself carefully, more often than not, it is your feelings that change. The change of feeling may be due to too high expectations or too demanding perfection. Maybe it's because we can't be tolerant and compatible, maybe it's because we always use a magnifying glass to see through and doubt. So some disappointments are not necessarily given by others, but often imposed by themselves. This imposition, on the one hand, makes itself a trapped beast, on the other hand, it also gives itself the most vivid excuse to end everything. Thus, the prosperity and noise of the world reflect the cold silence and desolation in our hearts. You know, no matter how we dress up our strength, we are only flesh and blood after all. The world is so big that we often forget the way home when we set out; The world is so small that when we touch it, it is all our thoughts, our desires, our joys and sorrows. Therefore, it is always you who toss yourself, and it is always you who torment yourself. " My friend's words touched me deeply. In this fiercely competitive society, everyone is facing the pressure of survival. Busy work and various responsibilities and obligations are already a heavy burden. How boring and pitiful it is to artificially put on the shackles of complaints and doubts, and live with a heavy shell on your back like a snail.
Once the knot in my heart is untied, I look up and see that the sky is blue.
It turns out that the richest beauty in the world does not need to be deliberately sought, but only needs a pair of clear eyes and a pure heart to satisfy and perceive.
two
The weather is getting colder and colder, and the skirts and short sleeves are folded one by one, packed and put in the wardrobe. Suddenly, I saw the red silk cheongsam sewn more than ten years ago-bright red background, hovering golden dragon, phoenix spreading its wings, eager correspondence between eyebrows and eyes, lingering love. The skirt horn of cheongsam, the word "Xi" sits among peony flowers, elegant and happy.
I haven't worn it for a long time, the cheongsam is wrinkled, the sling has two cracks, and the silk thread of silk is rough. I opened the sewing box, a silver needle, put on silk thread, wound the needle and sewed it carefully. Needle and thread shuttled between silks, and my mood wandered in my memory. Pull open the ironing board, holding a steam iron in hand, carefully comforting. Get dressed and stand in front of the mirror. Perhaps it is because this simple dress has stored the warmth of the years, or perhaps it is the rendering of this festive red color. I suddenly smiled in front of the mirror, and my smile was sunny and warm. I spent a long time wandering in front of the mirror, longing for the brightness and elegance of this moment. Yes, I can totally indulge in a person's beauty and indulge myself in this leisurely morning.
I had a quarrel with my husband the other day, and I was extremely indignant at his provocation. The cold war lasted for several days. Yesterday, Tong Er suddenly said, "You are so noisy and bored. Let's leave now. Dad will find a little honey, and mom will be a rich man. " I said, "It's good to get divorced. Let's live together. " But he said, "I'm going with my uncle who loves me the most." What are you? " The child's words made my heart thump. I suddenly feel guilty when I think of the scene where you won't let me and I won't spare you. I quickly put an end to it, my husband also went down the steps, and the family recovered its former tranquility.
The red cheongsam awakens many warm memories, including the details of holding hands with her husband, the laughter and laughter of raising children, and the hardships and bitterness along the way. Looking back carefully, we know that the warmth has always been embedded in the details of the day. It is only because our eyes have been fixed on trivial things that do not hurt the elegance of life that the years are more gloomy and tangled.
Some people say that a woman's life will go through three stages: counting petals, counting money and counting white hair, which makes sense. The days of counting petals are pure and charming-does he love me? He doesn't love me? He doesn't love me? He loves me? Women are lovely and pure. The days of counting money are real-what else is missing? Women are as firm as a stagnant pool. The days of counting white hair are calm and gentle-as the years go by, the beauty is getting old, and I have crossed thousands of rivers and roads in Qian Shan. Is there anything I can't let go of?
For a woman my age, counting money is probably everyone's responsibility. We should take care of the family's food, clothing, housing and transportation, and don't scrimp, okay? However, if you spend most of your energy counting money 24 hours a day, you will become tough and boring. Since health and happiness are everyone's ultimate pursuit, why don't we take some time to count the petals? How beautiful the petals are, bright and soft. Just touching them will make the tenderness around your fingers and make love linger. Women live by counting petals. What a warm world it is.
Bo Youxing Tan Xinyu wrote to me in his blog: "In the blog,' Qiner' comes with elegance and tranquility. That writing, that picture, that emotion, besides being beautiful, have to linger. She is like a deep valley garden, emitting a pleasant fragrance; It is a cloud in the west, quiet and gorgeous. " There are many friends who really praise me. Faced with such an evaluation, I am ashamed, because I know more time, and I am shallow and narrow, even dark and obscure. In the past three years, I have encountered too much emotion and warmth-an old man gave me books twice to guide my writing, a friend gave me ointment for treating diseases several times, a friend gave me a warm scarf and beautiful floral cloth, a friend gave me tea candy and chocolate, a friend gave me calligraphy works twice, and a painting sent by my eldest brother has been hanging in my sight for three years. The internet is warm to me. How happy I am to see you, so many caring brothers I have never met, so many talented and affectionate sisters, and so many lovely brothers and sisters who call me "Sister Qin"! I feel that people I know are hypocritical because they thank too much, so they never say anything and rarely visit, but they are deeply impressed.
I know I don't have the elegance and nobility of a deep valley garden. I am just a grass flower blooming in the field at will. Yes, I have been trying to make my life a flower, a quiet and leisurely flower, a flower with a bright smile. I don't expect dazzling, I just want to be open, even in Shan Ye, among thorns.
This morning, I was wearing a red cheongsam, accompanied by a brisk melody, and my fingertips were banging on the keyboard. The years at this moment are so quiet and serene.
I told myself, to be a housewife or a professional woman, don't forget kindness, wealth and nobility.
I remind myself-always be a woman who counts petals, even if you have a husband, children and white hair!