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Nalan Xingde once said: "Who laments the chilly west wind alone,
as yellow leaves rustle against the closed window. Contemplating the past, the
setting sun casts its lingering rays. Startled by wine, spring slumbers heavily,
while gambling books disperse the fragrance of spilled tea. At that time, it was
deemed ordinary." Have we not, too, experienced similar revelations in our
lives? Many seemingly mundane moments, when possessed, are often casually
overlooked. But once they become memories, we often exclaim, "At that time, it
was deemed ordinary."
In this narrow realm, what I have experienced is an extraordinarily ordinary
life. What I have witnessed is an exceptionally ordinary world. What I have
received is a supremely ordinary love. Yet, it is these ordinary occurrences,
like pieces of a puzzle, that become the most beautiful memories deep within our
hearts when autumn leaves have fallen.
I still vaguely remember when I was a child, holding my grandmother's hand as we
wandered through streets and alleys. I still vaguely remember begging my
grandfather to play chess with me. I still vaguely remember playing
hide-and-seek with my older siblings. In the blink of an eye, we have all grown
up. Our grandparents have aged, and we will never again hold their hands while
sharing those interesting stories. We will never again share our secrets with
our brothers and sisters. We have become silent, losing the unique innocence of
childhood. We have become melancholic, losing the distinctive joy of youth. We
thought we had grown up and no longer needed the shelter of our parents. But
when you sit quietly, do you recall the echoes of your laughter filling the
entire village? Do you remember sitting beside your mother as she did laundry,
playing with the soap bubbles? Yet, all of this cannot be regained. Time passes,
age increases, knowledge grows, waiting accumulates, and happiness diminishes.
The only thing we can do is to preserve that innocence in our hearts, preventing
the world from tarnishing it.
An ordinary world, an ordinary you, an ordinary life, an ordinary love. It is
through all these ordinary things that we shape an ordinary heart. Mediocrity is
terrifying, ignorance is heartbreaking. Why must we only realize the value of
something once it's lost? Even when we are surrounded by external influences, we
must grasp the presence of genuine love and affection. Tomorrow, we should sigh
in this manner: "This sentiment is worthy of becoming a cherished memory.
Fortunately, at that time, I did not lose myself." |
