北京养生会所

The wind had, rain falls, fleeting still

More than love yourself, love others have spare capacity – Inscription.Dust Mo memory, Xiamen sky, often seem Close of the year season, there will always be some of the children thin rain child, from time to time from the depths of the clouds hanging down, like a silver-like surface Suko, gently quietly, in between you inadvertently come, could not trace trace children.  I stood at the window of my office, and my heart thinking about some of the ideas coming year, eyes wandering in the rain outside the window there is no purpose.  Mother telephone this morning to say that small three children, this year you might not strike New Year back home, mom to send you something, you should go to the company, oh, you may have to pay attention to Kazakhstan.  I hastily asked, is Shane?  Mother paused, called haha, say, you guess, huh,.Anyway, you read on to know it.Oh, yes, you there is the sea, I’m afraid a little too cold, you can wear much clothes, the quilt cover themselves at night thicker Kazakhstan..Verbal ramble, but my mother and I, and my heart is silent joy of each other.  The wind gently out of the window, the rain also clear, the courtyard under the banyan trees at the office there, hanging banyan tree to be the same and Lingnan Brisk, however, leaves some seem to be more lenient, the breeze in the twelfth lunar month rain, the gently swaying, such as green sea that Taiwanese commoner weaving woman, shallow Dimei, graceful.  My mother looks like, by the beauty of youth to the tottering old age, in my mind, always also a woman Danran mind Wakayama Gui Jing is beautiful flower.  I’m at the beach, she was in Sichuan, many years, contact with each other, can only be in her hands that do not have much function of Nokia, there is my hand this has been not willing to replace the smart millet.Every hears pass from the hands of this little box in the voice over, the same is ramble, may sound but it is the old year after year.  Her years in the other end, with a voice to do a needle to do care line, on Liebo distance stitch sewing her care, and this drift out of the way in her son’s memory; but in her ramble language, there is breeze moon, there is an old old thing, there are clothes on a cold day, there are healthy and happy, and rest assured that work, do not worry sentence of home for the elderly., Like you listen to her tell you face to face her memory the most beautiful years of many things, such as old friends talking like a ride without a ride, saying mundane chores of life, but also said that Sichuan home terroir changes anecdotes and new things old and gentle voice.Or, sometimes, in me, so fragmented sentences, scattered, broken language, is unintelligible.  I used to not like to hear, but with increasing age every year, I like to listen to the mother have a ride without a ride of a broken language.  She often said, son, you are a person on the outside, be sure to do their.  Such a speech, a long time ago not quite understand, then, I slowly understand, the mother is telling me to be kind to work, treat life, treat yourself, treat others more than his own beloved, there is spare capacity to love others, to the world given their gifts, grateful, and so, in order to do their!  My words, addressed to his mother, it is really very small, which I am guilty of something.  Think about your own age youth had prevailed, always seeking large, perfectionist, always thought to be big money, bigger house, the work done to a large, want to face big, in fact, now calm down and think about it, in fact, really do not have to like, a lot of time, sufficient.  So, you can live as petty trivial literature, life will be refined into aesthetic life, not noisy, not deliberately, some utilitarian pursuit may back away, can shine to each other in the text of life, see the explanatory Heart.  Mother, sometimes like a warm light, soft elegant, leisurely mood of the text, language is no big fan of Korea exaggerated confession, nor impetuous marketplace smoke flavor, only two or three trivial ordinary life is about gardening tea, vegetables sewing, street neighbor rounded and so fuel vinegar tea everyday life of ordinary things, but I often can these faint broken language, the mother saw the simple days of Shengkai Cheng a quiet flower, the to live as a landscape painting, a cool poem, over the past years all over into an elegant aesthetic life.  Live their own life in the prosperous hustle and bustle of the city, for a long time, inevitably there will be impetuous utilitarian Mind born, and the mother or even the phone came from the language, often can bring this day of faint elegant the United States, like Yan is an old ink, dyed the color of ordinary life, the simple, innocent dipped pen, write a tie rustic village life books, usually the atmosphere.  Often think Oh, mother sometimes inadvertently in some words, such as lotus and as the mother of temperament, even in this world is daily life for the children and grandchildren trivia toil busy, but also see Su Bao Pu, with a soft heart, the Red Daqian Kiyonaga as a dojo, no dust and no dirt, in the world plain Jane lovingly alive.  She scattered people as clean as Pu Yu Su Lin, it is clear that Jane Jane through life.  I can imagine her weekdays at home to meet with old friends talk the scene, talk with neighbors tea daily, fun and grandchildren around the knee peace, help in the garden weeding wood from the music.I think the mother joy quiet environment, joy Qing dynasty vegetation, and she lived like vegetation!  Mother, live in daily PASSING fleeting, live in unusual and moving day, in the morning twilight repeat every day, a day lived to see the day of blowing the cloud.Unusual, the body clothing, food basket, melon rice cakes, a basket for cooked food, poured soup, on the 1st day of clean living, all human Jervis.  Mother to me, not so much a step into the old man seventy years of age, as it is a wonderful accessible easy-going person, put down her graceful bustling city, lasting bonds with the landscape, vegetation and companion, to the corner of the small town village Fang Qingming a jealously guarding their own world, full of wandering around in the world in their own minds, and flashy Daqian opened limits, ignore Fun clamor, without delay vulgar pro, much less addicted to extravagant pleasures of life, clear only hold their own inner world Delicate next month.  I think I know the mother, after all, mother and even the heart!  Out the window, the wind gently blowing, the rain, under a clear, still, I still fleeting, thousands of miles away, in the Haitian world Xiamen, thinking his mother, a calm and accessible for the elderly, the Pledge your security warm quiet good!  Text / dust Mo, Q895144520, Tongan, 2015.1.15 late at night