Life is mostly filled with disappointments; no one can live without turmoil. The various encounters in life are often beyond our control or prediction. In this complex and ever-changing environment, the only way to avoid feeling distressed is to learn to accept whatever comes our way and avoid unnecessary conflicts.
Throughout our lives, from taking our first wobbly steps and babbling our first words to attending school and striving for our own sake, for our parents, and even for the glory of our ancestors, we work hard. Diligence brings praise, while failure invites mockery. After years of rigorous study and decades of struggle, we once burned with passion for our ideals, yet we were repeatedly frustrated by the demands of survival. Reality has worn down our sharpness and dampened our will; those beautiful dreams turned out to be fragile. In a reality that makes it difficult to maintain confidence, life often loses its sense of direction. Nevertheless, life goes on.
In life, it is because of imperfections that we have hope; it is because of regrets that we learn to cherish. The blooming and fading of flowers, birth and death, are all part of fate.
In the early morning, it seems that petals are still falling by my feet, slowly and warmly, rubbing gently against the pebble path with the rhythm of the wind. The plum blossom on my hair, which once bloomed with unique brilliance, has long since fallen, leaving only a faint trace of its fragrance.
I particularly favor the lines: “A thousand branches and ten thousand branches of maple, hiding the late sails behind the river bridge.” These are from Yu Xuanchi, a female poet of the Tang Dynasty. The maple trees are lush, with layers of leaves obscuring the river bridge, making it difficult to see the returning boats for a long time. Longing is continuous, like poetry, water, silk, and threads; thoughts are like wind and rain, entangled like waves and maple leaves. A season of maple trees carries a message of longing, winding and twisting, and after countless turns, it gently holds the still fragrance, turning the red beans crimson.
