Under the Ginkgo Tree

“The pavilion is for girls, and Guanyin is a bodhisattva, not a girl. The place where Guanyin lives can’t be called a pavilion, it must be called the Yuantong Treasure Hall. I haven’t read the book, but I know this, if you go to the book, is that right… ”

“Guanyin Pavilion, it has always been called that, how can it not work?”

Two men, an old man and a young man, sat on the steps of the Drum Tower, and discussed it under the name of “Guanyin Pavilion”.

It is sunny after the rain, and the sunshine in early summer is a little poisonous. There are not many people in the temple, only three or five. They had been sitting on the steps for some time. One eye was bloodshot, the other was helpless and blurred. Why do they fight from time to time? Although they are not familiar with each other, they have seen each other under the ginkgo tree before.

When I went to the temple, I originally wanted to see a few ancient trees. Ginkgo biloba, kapok, and banyan trees are trees that are hundreds or thousands of years old. I like to see them sprouting in spring. Thin young shoots emerged from the edge of the old tree tumor, and a little green suddenly appeared in the dark brown bark, which was a surprise.

In particular, the thousand-year-old ginkgo tree is famous for its leaves in autumn. But the golden yellow in autumn is grand, but the new green in spring is the beginning of reincarnation and is even more dazzling. In winter, the leaves have fallen, leaving only the tall trunk and branches of the ginkgo tree, and the towering tree has no leaves. It is like a respected person with a white head and a sigh, and his body is so vast that he cannot bear to look closely.

In spring, on the high branches of the ginkgo tree, the buds are thin and green, and a trace of green is drawn from the branches. Soon, the trace becomes a branch, a group, and a tree. The green is getting stronger, getting fuller, and getting wider. When the green gets old, spring is over. The ginkgo tree in spring, it is good that it can grow old, but it does not wither. Unlike autumn, the yellow is full of style, and it is also old and sloppy, and it can be seen at a glance.

Under the tree, looking at the new green of ginkgo biloba, there is a sudden voice, and he said in his voice, it is this tree, more than a thousand years old, it is a linden tree. The man with a loud voice came up the steps and staggered. A young man was holding him. The young man was wearing black-rimmed glasses and ripped jeans. He was trendy and gentle.

“This tree is a god. If you touch the tree and then touch your own body, the Bodhisattva will bless you.” Under the tree, the old man stood on tiptoe, rubbing the trunk of the tree with all his might, and then using the hand that had rubbed the bark to press hard Rubbing his body, wiping tears while rubbing, he taught the young man to do the same. The young man did so with a shy smile. Somewhat surprised, not many words, then walked away.

I don’t want to meet again under the Drum Tower. They were arguing, the son was nice and the father was more and more angry. No one persuaded me to laugh, and asked me to sit on the steps, sitting among them, like a rescuer.

“You have to talk about development in everything you do. Even if you become a bodhisattva or a god, you have to be worshipped. If you don’t worship, you won’t develop, and the incense will be broken. That’s why it’s boring to be an immortal.” Holding the pillar, living without love, talking and talking, wiping the corner of his eyes again.

“My ancestors have never done bad things. I didn’t expect that I would have no development or fame.” A burst of alcohol drifted over, and the corners of the man’s eyes were wet. He lifted his clothes and rubbed his eyes vigorously. Heartbroken, it looks more vicissitudes than the ginkgo tree.

“Who is he?” “It’s my dad.”

“Why are you so sad?” “Marriage urged.”

“They are all thirty-six years old. Who is so old and still not married? My daughter is thirty-two years old, and she is not married. People in the countryside have never read a book, but they also know that being a person is to be famous. I am in the village. Yes, he has become a grandfather. But he doesn’t even get married, so what kind of face (face) does he have when he goes out? A monk must have a monk (little monk) to accompany him, otherwise, how can he survive with so many temples?”

It was a father and son. The unmarried children became his heart disease. Borrowing wine to dispel sorrows day by day. I drank alcohol last night and washed my face with tears. The son was afraid that he would not be able to think about it, so he took him to the temple for a walk. He finally understood the “development” he said earlier. A tree lives a skin, a person lives a face, and branches and leaves are scattered. For him, it is a simple and ultimate idea. Just like the ginkgo tree in the temple, because of the vigorous growth every spring, there are more than a thousand springs of lush, ancient and solemn.

“Why don’t you get married?” “Being alone, clean, why do you want to get married?”

“It’s not that no one is there. How many people have introduced them, and they don’t even make phone calls. That’s about it. Ask the Bodhisattva, is it so difficult to get married? Can you live without getting married?” My father was full of bitterness. The son murmured: “Being in a Bodhisattva is not about worshipping twenty-four hours a day. It is believing. If you have a Buddha in your heart, you are believing. If you have a good heart, you are good. If you don’t cultivate your heart well, it is useless to worship every day.”

The father and son ran wildly on two roads, going against the current. Between the two roads is a marriage.

The sun is getting more and more poisonous, and the ginkgo tree under the scorching sun is glowing with light. The ginkgo tree does not get married, but it has lived for more than a thousand years, ancient and solemn.

More than a thousand years ago, in this temple, under this tree, there was also a person who did not marry. He was only fifteen years old that year, and he left as soon as he said it, wishing him a home. This time, there is one less married person in the mortal world, and one more famous master in the Buddhist family.

On the way to practice, once poking the fire, it became a long-standing Zen koan. In the cold winter and night, Lingyou stood by Master Baizhang Huaihai, “You dial the stove, see if there is still fire?” Lingyou dialed it, and returned to the master, “There is no fire.” Fire?” Lingyou had an epiphany, “I didn’t dial deep enough.”

Marry or not, it’s all “fire”, who knows. In the father’s tears, there is the “fire” that the son cannot see, and in the son’s persistence, there is also the “fire” that the father cannot pull out.

My powerless “rescue soldier” can’t help at all. Face and inner, neither can be easily put down, who can easily put it down?

“Don’t expect him to let go, I will.”

“How do you let go?”

“If I don’t get married, he will die hard. Maybe just find someone to marry and do as he pleases.”

The son was pulling at the ripped hole in his jeans, his eyes wandering for tens of thousands of miles.

The ginkgo trees in the temple are as prosperous as the new ones every spring, flourishing for more than a thousand springs, ancient and solemn. There is only one ginkgo tree, without anyone accompanying, it has lived well for more than a thousand years, ancient and solemn.

go away

At night, my mother called and said that my uncle in Taiwan was gone.

At the beginning of his hospitalization, he knew that he would leave, and he was relieved when he left.

The relatives on the other side, those relatives who have never met or called several times in their lives, are becoming fewer and fewer. The waves of the strait have never ceased to be turbulent, but some waves have ebb forever, that is the uncle.

Uncle’s life is like a prodigal son. Ma Zu was born and came to Taiwan when he was three years old. His childhood was in Hsinchu Dependents’ Village, then Taipei and Banqiao. After becoming an adult, he ran around and wandered, and became famous far and near. It seems that the scenery is bright, but in the end, it is deserted.

My uncle loves delicious food, and no matter where there is delicious food in any corner, he cannot escape him. For the legendary braised pork feet, he would drive three or four hours from Taipei to Pingtung in the south, have a taste, and then return to Taipei overnight. We went to Taiwan and he wanted to take us to eat all the food on the island. It is clear where the stinky tofu is authentic, where the crab feast is delicious, where the dumplings are soft and glutinous, and where the bean curd is mellow.

In Alishan, we have to try bamboo tube rice. We said that we have eaten it in the mainland. He insisted that it was different here. The bamboo is special, and the thin layer of bamboo film in the bamboo tube can still be picked. come out. He drove to “Jiji Town” to buy plum noodles, which he said was the best farm-made plum noodles. Guava dipped in plum powder is surprisingly delicious. I buy several cans of it, and I always ask “is it enough” and “is it enough”. In my hometown in Nantou, I went to the mountains to eat the most authentic pineapple cakes in Taiwan. After that, “Slightly Hot Hills” became the most delicious pineapple cakes in my memory.

The first time I saw him was when I got married, and it was the first time he came back from Taiwan. According to the custom of my hometown, when my niece goes out, she asks my uncle to carry her in the wedding car. In the past 20 years or so, I have never called the title “uncle”, and the “unfamiliar” uncle is embarrassed to hold the “unfamiliar” niece in front of everyone’s eyes. Everyone said, let the uncle go out holding hands. So, he led me to walk, walked the short and long road from the door to the car door.

Big brother and big uncle have similar personalities, and they hit it off when they talk. When my mother went to visit relatives in Taiwan, my uncle asked her to bring back to my eldest brother whenever he found good tea and good things. My mother said that she couldn’t bring so much to the customs, so his expression was innocent: “It’s what Xiong likes.”

In fate, there will be many departures. The embankment was breached, it was submerged, it was involuntarily, the ants gnawed at the bones, the roof was blown away by the wind, and the road was hollowed out by the water.

Once on Yushan Island, I saw a horse, the only horse on the island. It came from the north, left its grassland, and came to the southern island, where there seems to be grassland. A sea meadow, for it, is also a cemetery. Either die alone or die. The other horse that came with it died like this.

Its eyes are wide, and the water of the entire Tianhu seems to be swirling in its eyes. Its eyes can’t bear to look directly. The kind of eyes that don’t know where he will be in the next moment, can’t see his own life, the coolness, the vastness of the sea.

I thought that my uncle was also a horse, a horse that ran on the island. In his life, he rode a horse and whipped his whip, and most of the time the horse stumbled. Fortunately, there are those delicious things to appease him.

I dare not call my grandmother, she is in her 90s, I don’t want to hear her say that people always die, sooner or later, like me, I live too long… I still called her, Instead, she comforted: life is difficult, death is difficult, if life is more difficult than death, let the prince take him away, you don’t have to be sad.

We can’t go to mourning, a strait, an epidemic, isolation and isolation… What we lost in the spring will continue to be lost in the summer. In the future, we will only see each other in the sky.

by the hidden water

She said on WeChat: I had a dream last night and was sold. Only you spared no effort to save me and woke up crying.

I am not an enthusiastic person and am often criticized. In a dream, it is rare and a little warm-hearted. In the dream, she was almost a “prostitute” once, but I was a “chival”.

Think pomfret. do you know? Pomfret was once ridiculed as “prostitute”. “Fish swims in the water, fish follow, eat its saliva, similar to prostitutes.” Li Shizhen is purely open-mouthed, and can be included in the “Compendium of Materia Medica”, it is a black pot on the back .

She laughed.

She loves to laugh, once her classmates called her “Yingning”, the laughing ghost in Liao Zhai. When “Laughter” was young, he had a “ghost” day and couldn’t laugh at all.

My father passed away suddenly. The bloody things in the family happened one after another, and they all had to pay for their lives. It seemed that they had been screwed with ghosts.

For many years, I couldn’t sleep at night, I was frightened, I had ghost dreams when I fell asleep, and I was terrified and had nowhere to go. One day, my heart was swollen and I decided to go to hell. In the evening, she who never wears makeup, wears light makeup and dresses nicely. In the middle of the night, she walks to the most feared grave. I thought, if there is a ghost, come see me. The big deal, see each other in reality, so as not to go to hell every night. Unfortunately, nothing happened, I came back well.

I don’t really want to die, I don’t have the courage. Probably been tortured for a long time, it is better to take the initiative to torture yourself. She teased her “ghost idea”.

After that, she chose to leave and study in a distant city. The Yangtze River surging past the edge of the city, day and night, life suddenly opened up. As compensation for the dark past, she met two “Sisyphs”.

Sisyphus in the book, a man who loves rolling stones. How absurd it is that a stone rolls from morning to night, the closer it gets to victory, the closer it gets to defeat. But tearing is the essence, and you can’t help but get out. “The Myth of Sisyphus” is like a daigo, and it has become a treasure book. When you “see a ghost” in your life, you can draw your sword and look around and cut off the water, and you can drink back some haze. The “Sisyphus” in life, doing her best to illuminate her. That light still gave her courage and trust to this day, but they lost contact one day. Thinking that if we meet, no one will be who they were before, it’s all the smell of fireworks, it’s better to live in memory.

“The life of a human being must be one day encountering Buddha, one day encountering demons, the wind will make you tired, and the flowers will hurt when they bloom.” The lost “Sisyphus” is like a Buddha. After all, for her, a stone was about to roll to the top of the mountain, and that was enough. Rolling up the mountain is a realm, rolling down the mountain is destiny. The wind blows the water, and in the world, people always cannot escape the obstacles and grow long.

Years later, she went abroad to leave her hometown. After rough waves or rapids, take a turn and change the flow.

The country is in the sea, and the wind blows from the sea mouth, blowing through the street and house where she lives. The exotic sea breeze is very similar to what I heard and saw at the seaside of my hometown when I was a child. At that time, she was still young, her father was still there, and there was no torrent in her life.

The still waters are running deep now. After many moments of being stared at by the abyss, a person gradually has some courage and passion to stare at the abyss.

With passion, the days will flow and flow through the abyss. She wants me to travel a little further, even if it has been misunderstood.

I smile. Only in a dream can you be a little “chivalrous”, I’d better stay in the dream to rescue you.

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