The author 丨bathing water
The footsteps of time rushed non-stop every day, waving a leather whip and driving the day and night shifts.
Day alternates night after night, and night alternates day after night. So hurried, so light, so impatient.
When I think of the cycle of day and night, I can't help but think of the Yin-Yang Fish Taiji Diagram, which is known as the "First Picture of China". Black and white, entangled end to end, yin in yang, yang in yin. The wisdom crystallization of the ancestors vividly interprets the concept of yin and yang dissipation and mutual root and mutual assistance.
Now that I think about it, isn't this alternation of day and night also a living tai chi diagram?
Most people like the brightness of the day. It is said that what is bright is brilliant, and what is bright is shining. Although the day is full of light, but without the fading of the night, how can there be a rise of the day? Without the accumulation of night, how can there be an outbreak of day?
I also like to enjoy the mountains, rivers and rivers during the day. However, I was more obsessed with the pursuit of the night. It's not that there is no sunshine in my heart, but behind the sunshine, there also needs to be night to precipitate.
Busy shuttling through the red dust city during the day, noisy and noisy, the mind is like a loose net. Nightfall is the time to close the net. Precipitate a day's thoughts, precipitate a day's experience, precipitate a day's feelings of sorrow and joy.
The tranquility of the night provides the precipitation with just the right opportunity, retreating from the hustle and bustle of the day, in order to dig out the deep imagination,
It is necessary to bury the bustle of the day to explore the beautiful cellar at the bottom of the valley. This is probably the charm of the night.
Often in silence, the realm of ten thousand horses galloping can be brewed. Often in silence, you can flexibly move the picture of the storm clouds.
Cradle in the night. There is no hustle and bustle, no work, only a quiet and soft sprinkling of joy around me, making me forget what year it is. I only remember to sow the spark of the soul at this moment, through the hand of the vegetarian pen, into a line, into a ridge, into a text, into an ocean of thoughts.
The night is quiet, it is dim, it is long and yang, but it is also quiet, romantic, and full of infinite reverie.
It is precisely with the quietness of the night that the imagination wings are inserted into the mind. It is with the darkness of the night that the soul is coated with a barrier cream. It is precisely with the natural law of yang retreating and yin that life is equipped with the power to nourish and recharge.
The silent night creates the rise of inspiration, the silent night cultivates the impulse to write, and the silent night is like a corridor paved with flowers and greenery.
I walked slowly down the corridor alone, filling my eyes with all the beauty along the way. When he finished watching, he stored the joy in his eyes in the paper, and while resting on the warmth of his head, he named her Memory.
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