Create a short philosophical essay

Please enjoy this article: The Gift of Frustration A learned man met God. He asked God angrily, "I am a learned man, why don't you give me a chance to become famous?" God replied helplessly, "although you are knowledgeable, you have only tried a little bit of everything, and it is not deep enough." What will you use to become famous? " Hearing this, the man began to practice the piano hard. Although he played well, he was not famous. He went to ask God again: "God! I have mastered the piano, why not give me a chance to become famous? " God shook his head and said, "It's not that I didn't give you a chance, but that you couldn't grasp it. The first time I secretly helped you to participate in the piano competition, you lacked confidence, and the second time you lacked courage. How can you blame me? " After listening to God's words, the man practiced hard for several years, built up his self-confidence and summoned up his courage to take part in the competition. He played well, but because of the injustice of the referee, others took the opportunity to become famous. The man said to God in despair, "God, I have tried my best this time. It seems that God doomed me not to be famous. " God smiled and said to him, "In fact, you are almost successful, only one last jump is needed." "Last leap?" His eyes widened. God nodded and said, "You have got the ticket to success-frustration. Now that you have it, success becomes a gift from frustration. " This time, the man firmly remembered the word of God, and he succeeded. Vienna, Feng Jicai, April, I was really disappointed. On the endless grassland, only green is connected with green, and there are no bright flowers that can make people shine. Green land without flowers is lonely. I said to Xiao Lu, who was traveling with me in the car, "Vienna in April is really boring! There is green everywhere, and no flowers can be seen. You must avoid April next time! " Hearing this, Xiao Lu stopped the car and took me to a very open grass on the side of the road, so that I could squat down and have a good look. I poked at the grass with my hand and saw a layer of small flowers hidden under the grass, white, yellow and purple; Pure, petite and bright; So many, so dense, so vast! They are only a few centimeters shorter than the grass, hiding under the grass, as if they would come out uniformly as long as they exert themselves ... "When will they come out?" I asked. "Maybe in a few days, maybe tomorrow." Lv Xiao smiled. "You can't say for sure that Vienna in April is the same every day." That night, the cold rain was accompanied by a cool breeze. In the next few days, the rain stopped and the sun never appeared again. I will leave Vienna for Italy soon, and Xiao Lu will see me off. On the way, I said to Xiao Lu, "It's a pity that I can't see those flowers on the grass this time. I think they must have been spectacular when they first appeared. " Xiao Lu didn't speak while driving. He may be a little disappointed in me. The rain outside Mao Mao covered the windows like gauze curtains. Ten minutes after the car left, Xiao Lu suddenly said to me, "Look out of the window-"Through the rain window, I can't see the outside clearly, but the colors outside the window have obviously changed, white, yellow and purple are flowing on the window. Xiao Lu stopped the car and reached for the door on my side. Before I knew what was going on, he said, "Go and see your flowers!" " Facing the thin, cool raindrops blowing on my face, I saw a flower from vilen. A few days ago, thousands of small flowers were hidden on the grassland. Now, all those flowers suddenly appear, and suddenly the whole world is covered with new colors. Although the vast expanses of flowers in the distance contrast with the drizzle, I can clearly see that every flower stands proudly, bright and dazzling, and is full of air in the cold rain. I was surprised to think: why don't they emerge in the warm sunshine, but in the cold wind and rain? Xiaohua has such boldness of vision! My heart thumped, and this shock made me understand what the meaning of life is-courage! How time flies! The clock on the wall built by the pool used to be my favorite scenery in my childhood. I have an indescribable admiration for it, because it often dreams of time, and our work and rest seem to be dominated by it. At the appointed time, we have to get up for school, do exercises during recess, and be yelled at by our parents to go to bed. Although sometimes we don't want to get up before we get enough sleep, and we don't want to go back to sleep in the outdoor moonlight, because of the time, we must obey our parents' orders. They angrily rebuked our words closely related to the wall clock: "What time is it, don't get up!" " "or:" it's no time to play outside and go to sleep! " "At this time, I feel that the wall clock is a cruel old man, holding a tobacco pouch on our forehead. He was fierce and stubborn, so angry that he rolled over and never left. In my imagination, he is an invisible parent, strict and stuffy. But sometimes it's warm. On New Year's Eve, every step of it brings us happiness. We can get the lucky money we dream of after midnight, thinking that the money can be used to buy candy to sweeten our mouth. I really want to roll in the snow. I naively thought that time was put into the wall clock by a pair of mysterious big hands. It has been walking, walking unhurriedly and unhurriedly, and will not slow down because of the beautiful scenery of birds and flowers outside the window, nor will it speed up because of the heavy snow raging in the north wind. Its feet, the most seduced feet in the world, always follow a fixed trajectory. I like to listen to the sound of its progress, always a knot, like a warm lullaby. Time is in the wall clock, and we experience wind, frost, rain and snow together, and the lake source and lake fall. Watches have become more popular since I entered junior high school. I saw time hidden in a small disk, dancing on my wrist. It jumps quietly, not as crisp and pleasant as the wall clock on the wall, and the sound of "tick-tock" is endless. The time in my watch gives me a sneaky feeling, less imposing and rigorous. Obviously, when it's time for class, I'll give it a minute or two before I enter the classroom, so the time in my watch seems to have been fixed. Later, life became colorful and there were more places to live. Necklace pendants can hide time, desk calendars are inlaid with time, and toys are full of time. As for computers and mobile phones, the first thing we see when we open them is time. If time is flashing everywhere, it will be more and more, and it will be more and more hurried. One day more than ten years ago, I first found traces of time in Beijing. When I was combing my hair, I found a white hair, like a bright snow at dawn in the morning, which caught my eye. I know that when time really walks into my hair, it only shows traces once. I also saw time walking in my mother's mouth, and her teeth were falling off more and more. I understand that while time makes flowers bloom, it will also make people's eyes bloom with flowers-fish pen lines. Time has made a small tree more and more leafy, the spokes of the wheels are more and more contaminated with rust chains, and an old house is gradually turning back. Time is like a magician, suddenly making a living person disappear in the land they have worked hard for. My grandfather, grandfather and father were all taken away silently by time, and their footprints can no longer be seen, but can be seen vaguely in the dream of the dark spirit. They are gone, but there is still time. It always walks with perseverance-in the corner that we can't see, in the place that we walk casually, in the sun, the moon and the stars, in the dream. I finally understand that the time on the wall clock and the time in the watch is only a representation of time, which exists in richer daily life. As long as we are walking, time will go. We and time are like a pair of partners, closely dependent on each other, and the immortal one will lead us to the end of time unconsciously. Personally, I highly admire Mr. Chi Zijian's article. Rich and quiet articles/week. I find the world more and more noisy and my life more and more quiet. I like to live a quiet life. Of course, silence is not static or closed, unlike stagnant water in a well. There was a time when the vast world was just an unverifiable legend to us. Each of us was locked in a narrow corner, just like a screw being screwed in a constant position. At that time, I just graduated from school and was assigned to a remote mountainous area. My life is quiet and monotonous. The days seem to have stopped, not like a river, but more like a well. Later, the times changed suddenly, and people's lives were like thawed rivers crisscrossing the earth in the sun. I am also like a river with too much energy. The tide of life is surging in my riverbed, turning my adult years into a raging torrent. Now, I am calm again. However, this is the calm after the ups and downs. After many ups and downs, my river of life seems to have finally come to an open valley and merged into a vast lake. I once walked by the lake at the foot of the Alps and looked at the reflection of the snow-capped mountains. White clouds and forests stretched in mystery. I know the water in the lake is still flowing, and it is the depth of the lake that makes it lonely as a mirror. My life is really peaceful. Learning to write at home every day, all kinds of lively circles and parties have nothing to do with me. My wife and daughter and I are enjoying ordinary family ties, and all kinds of entertainment places outside have nothing to do with me. I am satisfied with such a day, because my mind is quiet. Perhaps, everyone needs some excitement at some stage in life. At that time, all the vitality needed to rush outward, find a river for themselves and determine a flow direction. However, one cannot stay at this stage forever. Tolstoy said: "As I grow older, my life becomes more and more spiritual." People may interpret this as a sign of aging, but I clearly know that even in his later years, Tolstoy had all his peers and was even more energetic than many young people. But only a strong vitality can gradually develop in the spiritual direction. Now I think that the best state of life is abundance and tranquility. Quiet, because get rid of the temptation of the outside world; Rich, because you have the treasure of the inner spiritual world. Tagore once said: the endless movement of the external world proves that there is no goal we can achieve, and the goal can only be found elsewhere, that is, in the inner world of the spirit. I don't completely reject stimulation, and stimulation can also have content. However, excitement is always the characteristic of external activities. Any external activities, no matter how vigorous and colorful on the surface, are inevitably poor and empty in essence if they are not driven by a spiritual pursuit and have no spiritual value as the goal. I doubt all too noisy careers and too ostentatious feelings. They always remind me of Shakespeare's irony of life: "full of sound and fanaticism, there is nothing in it." PS: I think Lin Yutang's and Zhou's essays are very good, as well as Anne Baby's. I recommend them.