What color is eternity
If the breath is short,
I think I have to be silent
because of this problem, the earth is still thinking
(1) At
night, an inch of land is in the west of the sports, a small piece of grass by the road is crowded with wind and cool people People, like crowded cars on the subway. The baby's curiosity is boundless, and the eyes are filled with the twinkling streamer of Tianhe City, colorful (they don't know it is accused of "light pollution"). The colorful products in the window are like satellite gravity, attracting a tide of people coming and going. In the air filled with the sweet smell of ice cream, they go shopping. It seemed to be another happy night. But out of time, I remembered that amazing image: on the night of the summer solstice just past, a full moon rose over Cape Sounion in Greece, so close that it seemed to be leaning reverently over the 2,400-year-old In front of the Temple of the Sea.
This moment is the pleasure-seeking of this short life, and the other side is the never-ending loneliness performance. That moment was so beautiful that it was almost sad, although the actors never cared about whether the seats were empty or not, just like the sun burning, the full moon rising, the stars shining, the earth shaking, the plants jointing, and never changing the schedule because of your emotions. All we have is the choice of feeling or not feeling, believing or not believing. Look up, can you tell what color the sky is? Who is going to turn off the artificial noise and hustle and bustle in the sky first, even for a while?
Whenever one thinks this way, one falls pessimistically into the past.
(2)
A long time ago, when my family lived in the teachers' dormitory of the primary school, I was only a child of eight or nine years old. Most of the time, I would run around, jump high or compete with Qiong Yang to pick flowers; if I quarreled with my mother , I angrily ran to the playground and vigorously "poofed" to lie down (I think about it now, I didn't happen to be knocked stupidly by a stone or the like, I'm lucky), deliberately disappearing so that she can't find it... Usually in the evening , In the world with eyes closed, the sound of birds disappeared, but the chirping of insects became louder; when I opened my eyes, the pale white moon began to appear on the fading sky, and Venus squatted faithfully on the side. After a long time, no one came to look for the "missing" me. Patting the grass clippings on my body, I obediently disarmed and went home for dinner.
My mother once lied to me that on the seventh night of the seventh lunar month, you can see the Cowherd and Weaver Girl come to meet with your eyes covered with a white handkerchief (sorry, I have told this story many times, and it is really impressive). In the days of waiting for Qixi Night, I scoured all the legends in the storybooks: Will the Cowherd and Weaver Girl wear the gorgeous costumes on the stage? There is also a bridge built by the Milky Way and magpies. Will the Queen Mother appear? ... My mother also said that you can't point your hands directly at the moon, or Empress Yue will cut one of your ears to make brine while you're sleeping! ...
Chicken wraps paper, paper wraps chicken, can paper wrap chicken? McDull said yes, when the chicken was young. But I didn't have to wait for the chicken to grow into a "chicken". After I raised my head all night and tightly covered my ears all night, I knew that the Cowherd, Weaver Girl, Moon Lady, Queen Mother, Magpie, Buffalo... all would not coming.
But that didn't stop me from bringing up these events over and over again many years later. On the contrary, now I feel happy because of the "belief" I once had, just like hearing the song "The moon walks through the clouds like white lotus" and smelling my mother's scent. I just want to know, will today's children still believe such "lies"?
(3)
My mother's folk "lie" has a scientific name called "Myth". It was a net weaved by the threads of imagination when human beings looked at the vast starry sky in their childhood, trying to net the fear and insignificance originating from the unknown. They divided the starry sky (near the ecliptic and the equator) into twenty-eight regions, each with seven constellations in the east, west, south, and north, namely Canglong, Baihu, Suzaku, and Xuanwu—see, draw them into shape Like what we already know, isn't it a lot more cordial? In the West, the ancient Greeks used imaginary lines to connect the main bright stars to make up forty-eight constellations; and the Greeks, like us Cantonese, love to worship gods, so each constellation is governed by gods, such as Guardian of our Taurus is the beautiful Aphrodite, the goddess of Venus, which our local people call "Matsu" after localization.
Even further back, perhaps one day 65 million years ago, a dazzling white light was reflected in the panicked eyes of the dinosaurs, followed by the approaching figure of a boulder—about 10 kilometers in diameter. . I never thought that the gentle star would look so hideous when it fell, and mercilessly killed the most prosperous creature on earth when they first met. Later, humans obtained fire from flint and flint wood. This time, it is no longer a line of imagination out of thin air. It is the starlight from outside the sky landing on the earth. It is close at hand, and the magical magic happens at the fingertips.
Later, the starry sky became less and less mysterious, or we became less and less curious. Those ancient legends about the stars are rarely mentioned because we don't even look up at them anymore. Besides astronomers and astronomy enthusiasts, who cares about the trajectory of the moon's rise over the mountains, the tulip-like nebula in Gemini, and even the bright Venus reflected in the puddles in front of you?
What we're better at is turning it into a guide map for the world, like the Weekly Fortune that Witch Shop publishes every week: You're ready to go, you're financially stable, and your love is a whirlwind of light and dark The door...the solemn myth is transformed into a living entertainment. As if doing nothing, life would go on as the witches, the little princes of the constellations predicted.
Stripped of its solemn or entertaining shell, mythology is no different from astrology. We, who feel small in the vast universe, always have to grasp something and try to resist the complex, unpredictable and unexplainable. The paradox is that, if eagerly watching the weekly fortune in some way embodies a focus on destiny, why are you waiting for someone else's prophecy instead of fulfilling it yourself? From this point of view, astrology is far from myth, because through the interpretation of astrology, we think that we have mastered our destiny, but at the same time, we have lost the sense of reverence for nature in human childhood. For many people, astrology is just entertainment and a guide, not a portal to the starry sky.
(Four)
Without Horton the Elephant, the starry sky is just a beautiful addition to my walk at night. After the earthquake in May, I felt more deeply as small as dust and people like ants. It's like living on a purple clover flower that blows in the wind, and happens to be lucky enough to meet a kind-hearted elephant. But what if it fell into the hands of a kangaroo or a vulture? Is that something people who live on little dust can control?
People will inevitably feel powerless in the face of the vastness, so the source of our self-confidence mostly comes from "mastery". In the subway that shuttles through the city, real estate dealers buy the dream of "home": a comfortable big house with its back to the mountains and forests, adjacent to the lake, the sun shines into the garden, the white fence allows you to live in harmony with your neighbors, and the children are in the green grass. There was a smile on the face, and a lover hugged and kissed in the refracted surface of the diamond ring. Looking around at everything around us, mountains, forests, breezes, warmth... that originally belonged to you or did not belong to you, that can be met but not sought, everything is up for sale. The ancients used imaginary lines to measure the starry sky, and our unit of measurement is "consumption". If stars can really be replaced by diamonds, please tell me how many rings are equal to a lifetime of years?
The most magnificent starry sky I have ever seen is in the mountains of Guangxi. There was a power outage that night, so I pulled out my chair and sat in the playground. Starlight twinkled slyly in the corner of the teaching building. In the distance, on the wider sky, star clusters clustered together like newly milled crystal columns. How many thousands of years has light traveled? Was that the violent, bright light of a dying star? How many thousands of light-years have we been since the bloodlines in childhood, the tributes to the gods in the desolate and flood years, and those unbroken connections that have not been interrupted for hundreds of millions of years? ...I have no intention of going back to the past, but I envy the ancients. At that time, the starry sky was clear, the stream was clear, and people and the universe were close to each other, not a relationship between buying and selling.
According to God's will, we should evolve the ears of the elephant Horton. Stand on the top of the tree and listen to the wind's song. Look up at the stars and count the rhythm of your heartbeat. At that moment, everything will be calm. At that moment, just like the first time, quietly, with tears streaming down my face.
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