Reading | In the name of text, sending the thoughts- "One Flower, One World: Following Ji Xianlin's Life Zen Zen" is reprinted

"One Flower and One World: Ji Xianlin's Life Zen" is a collection of essays of Mr. Ji Xianlin, a total of six series, 48 ​​articles, concentrated reflecting the kindness and harmony of the benevolent feelings and harmony of Mr. "Heaven and Man", "People's compatriots and things". idea.

In the writing of Mr., everyone is given affection. Mr. Ma Xunhua, who is in the desolate ancient house as a friend, is a friend; the ordinary locust flowers who are not inspected by Xi Xi are enlightened; Destiny bears the cross; in February Lamili, which should be opened, the sorrow and joy of life ...

In the pure and bland words, the endless world and the great wisdom flowing between the pages, infiltrating the people's hearts, so that we can see the great compassion of the gentleman and understand the inner harmony.

Today, we re -reprinted "One Flower and One World: Following Ji Xianlin's Life Zen", the cover of the new book is just as Mr. Mr. "Iron Pymal Bottle" is like the character of "iron heating bottle" — the outer cold and very hot inner heart, the power of the meditation outside, Look at the colorful emotions that are overflowing with the thousands of worlds. After a lapse of ten years, let's take a look at Mr. Qian in the book. The book retains the preface made by Mr. Qian Wenzhong, the disciple of Mr. Qian Wenzhong in the first edition of the book ten years ago, and was fortunate to invite the article "Three Little Girls" in the article "Three Little Girls". Without no, she also talked to her husband in the form of words, although she was no longer a "little girl", although she was separated from the gentleman, hoping to establish a hidden poetic response and connection again with her husband.

Sir, our nostalgia for you has always been there.

"One Flower and One World: Following Ji Xianlin Tasteless Life Zen"

Ji Xianlin

Chongqing Press Publishing

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Horseman

For a long time, I lived alone in a deep courtyard. Walking in from the outside, the more you walk, the more you get the sound of your footsteps, as if you are going from the downtown to the mountains. When the sound of footsteps becomes an empty Valley, the place I live in.

The yard is not small, all of which are paved with square bricks, and there are corridors on three sides. The patio is covered with branches, walking below, thick shade, cooling body. From the perspective of the momentum of the house, from the perspective of the thickness of the beam pillar, it can also be seen that the wealthy weather of the year can be seen.

This wealthy weather is source. Hundreds of years ago, it was the East Factory of the Ming Dynasty. I don't know how many people who are worried about the country and the people have been imprisoned here, and I don't know how many people have been punished here and even lost their lives. It is said that there are still traces of the water prison that year.

When I lived in, the wealthy weather had already become a trace, but the atmosphere of gloomy and bitterness was unmoved. Coupled with the sarcophagus and stone crickets displayed in the corridor, the stone monuments carved with the characters and the characters were engraved in ancient times. As soon as I walked back to this yard, I seemed to enter the ancient tomb. Such an environment, such atmosphere, mentioned my memory thousands of years ago; sometimes I was like living in history, and I became ancient.

This atmosphere is compatible with my mood at the time. I always do not believe in any ghosts and gods, so I live here, and I still have it.

But there are times when you are nervous. Often in the middle of the night, I suddenly heard the sound of pushing the door. The sound was loud and strong. I have to get up and take a look. At that time, I often stopped power. I could only get up in the darkness, find the door, and go out. The yard was dark, and everything could not be seen. Even the shadow of the tree seemed to be sticking to the darkness, which could not be distinguished at all. I only heard a loud sound on the big toon trees, and then Mi Oh, two small light -like eyes were shining towards me from the depths of the branches.

Such a place will not cause any goodwill for friends who often come and go. Several of them came to me during the day, and they were afraid of walking into this yard at dusk. In case of something, I have to come, and I must ask the workers again at the gate of the gate. Whether I am really at home, I have the courage to travey in the long hutong, walk through the deep yard, come to my house, come to my house inside. Once I went out, I didn't see it, and a friend walked to the yard where I lived. In the shimmer of dusk, I saw a tree shadow and a sarcophagus in the courtyard, but there was no light on my small window. His legs shook immediately, and it took a lot of power before dragging them out. When we met the next day, when we talked about this experience, the two were relatively laughing.

Am I also feel lonely? It should be said that there are. At that time, it was the era of "Wanjiamo Noodles without Artemisia", and Beijing was dark. During the day in school, with young classmates, from their vigorous will and vitality of life, they can also draw some strength and happiness, and they are very excited. However, at night, when I walked back to this so -called home alone, I seemed to be independent of the world. No one, no electric lights, no vitality. In the shimmer of kerosene lamps, I only saw my tall, big, and black figure shaking on the walls on all sides, as if a giant spirit came to my room. The loneliness strikes like a poisonous snake, torturing me, making me run between the heavens and the earth.

In such a helplessness, one day, in the evening, when I walked into the yard from the outside, I smelled a strong aroma. I looked up, and it turned out that the horses that covered the yard blossomed. Before that, I knew that these trees were all stables; but I didn't pay much attention to them. Today they told me their existence with their aroma. This seems to be a new thing for me. I couldn't help standing under the tree and looked up at the trees: the fine -sized leaves were densely set into a ceiling. On the ceiling is a layer of pink filament -like petals. Looking from the distance, it was like floating on the green cloud layer. A group of red mist. The aroma was sprinkled from this green cloud, full of the entire yard, full of my whole body, making me seeing swimming in the fragrant sea. Blossoming is also common, and it is commonplace to bloom. However, at this time, in such a place, there are such flowers and such fragrances, and I feel very unusual; there is Hua Xiang comforting me loneliness, and I even have some almost grateful mood.

Since then, I have fell in love with Ma Yanhua and regarded it as my own friend.

Beijing was finally liberated. On October 1, 1949, it brought light and hope to the whole of China, and brought light and hope to the world. This day of great significance has a gap in my life, and I seem to have gained my life again. Unfortunately, I moved out of that yard soon, saying goodbye to those lovely Ma Yanhua.

Time has passed so fast. Until now, it has only been 13 years since I was in a blink of an eye. These thirteen years are the most important, fulfilling and most meaningful thirteen years in my life history. I watched many new things, learned a lot of new things, and walked a lot of new places. Of course I also watched a lot of strange flowers. I once saw the big safflower on the giant tree of Gao Lingxiaohan in the southern end of the Asian continent; I saw the fire red in the summer of Myanmar in the summer resort of Myanmar. Flowers; I also saw roses like small trees in Tashken. These flowers are extremely beautiful.

However, what made me miss deeply is still those ordinary horse flowers, how much I want to see them!

In recent years, the puppet flowers in Beijing seem to have increased. In the park, next to the road, in front of the hotel, in the lawn, you can see the newly planted horse flower. The fine -sized leaves are densely made into the ceiling, and the ceiling is a layer of pink filament -like petals. Looking in the distance, it was like a group of red mist floating on the green clouds. This green cloud and red fog filled with Beijing, lined with red walls and yellow tiles, adding gorgeous and fragrant capital to the people's capital.

I am very happy, and I seem to have met an old friend who has met for a long time. However, I faintly felt that these horse flowers were very different from those of my memories. The leaves are still like that leaf, and the flowers are still like that; within a short ten years, it will never change. What is the difference between them?

I was really confused at first, thinking about it, but I couldn't explain it. Later, I expanded the scope of my memories and did not tie the memories to the horse's flowers, but included everything related to me at that time. No matter how I like those horses in the yard, no matter how I love to remember them, the scope of memories expands, not at dusk or night rain, otherwise it is a dream of blurred bitterness. I seemed to have never seen those cute horse flowers even if they were a little sunny.

However, these horse flowers in front of my eyes seemed to always be under the day of light. Even at dusk, in the middle of the night, when I saw them, they seemed to be angry and bathing in the sun. They seem to want to compete in the same light and fight for the same moon. Compared with the horse's flowers in my memories, one is a film with a photo, and the other is a good photo; the other is the shadow and the other is light. The Ma Yanhua in the film may be worth nostalgic, but isn't Ma Yanhua more cute in the light?

Since then, I have fell in love with the horse's flowers in this light, and I also love the contrast between the light and shadow hiding in my heart. It can tell me a lot of things, bringing me endless power to give me infinite warmth and happiness; it can also promote me to move forward. I am willing to smiled in this light.

October 1, 1962

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Author: Ji Xianlin

Edit: Jiang Chuting

Editor in charge: Zhu Zilong

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