Essay on residual lotus

The movement of the sun and the moon seems to come from the vast ocean.

It is in such a late autumn, a season when all trees are dying, there is no colorful spring and no magnificent summer. Just an autumn rain, a cool and slightly melancholy, just a quiet autumn day in the stormy weather. Without gorgeous colors, everywhere we go, it is faded beauty.

Yes, withered and beautiful.

A photo sent by a friend is a remnant lotus-the white petals are gone, and the cloak-like lotus leaf is withered and wrinkled, like an old man who has been drained of water by years, with a faint forbearance and a faint perseverance, but his eyes are burning. It lay quietly in the pond, without the arrogance when it stood up; The bulging lotus also fell down, leaving only some yellow lotus stalks obliquely inserted in the middle of the lotus pond. These lotus flowers, once so unbridled and wanton in Wang Yang, are now left with this pool of dead branches and leaves.

Without her pride when she was open, without her disdain when she was brilliant, she-although she used to be so arrogant, so pretentious, so clean and open, now she can't escape the fate of withering. Although she has absolute capital to be grand and envious, those grand things always have some deliberate and ostentatious elements, which makes people feel aesthetic fatigue with a certain purpose. Although she is still qualified, she can't touch a person's heart.

Now, where is she gorgeous and lovable? I always don't like bright things, and I don't like big bright flowers. I always feel that they drive too hard, too deliberately, too ostentatious, as if to please everyone, for fear that others will not know her existence. I use those gaudy colors, those seemingly beautiful but fragile petals to swear my existence in a high-profile way. However, in the end, they can't escape the fate of withering. Look, this is a beautiful and cruel fact-how prosperous it was at first, and how desolate it will be when it dies later. Look at the lonely and withered stalks in the pool, completely losing their original high spirits. At the beginning, they were unruly, leaving only silence, tranquility and indifference.

I prefer non-flowering plants to bright flowers, such as dripping Guanyin, asparagus and ferns. I used to raise them and still keep them. They live quietly on my balcony, not noisy, lively and sophisticated. Because there are no bright colors, few people like them, but they still grow in various ways. I don't care whether others like it or not, and I don't please others, so I live simply. Life is the same. I won't go to the class reunion, nor will I go to the friends' dinner. I was busy telling my success between pushing cups and changing cups at the banquet-which prestigious school I was admitted to; I am a real estate tycoon now, what is my annual salary; I married a rich husband, so what-wait, this is boring me. That kind of complaint is not a complaint, but a competition, which is too deliberately exaggerated. I-I don't like it.

I like to meet someone I don't really know in the street, but I can call them by their first names. This is a reunion after a long separation. The two men found a small teahouse. As long as there are two people, it is more or less a burden. It is best to drink tea in a warm and sunny place, and drink it silently first, preferably Pu 'er tea. It is mellow, calm and quiet, and you are not in a hurry to talk about your success in life. Only when the other person asks, will you quietly fall into memories, and then tell the bitterness and joy in those processes with a dignified face or shyness like a story. The result is not important, but the experience.

This kind of communication has a quiet beauty and far-reaching, although simple, perhaps monotonous, but the most memorable-the most authentic state of life, what is there to deliberately show off? Still very tired afterwards; What are you deliberately opening? Flowers are their own after all, and others will get bored, bored and bored if they look at them too much. Like residual charge, impurities are filtered out, water is evaporated, and the rest is true and transparent. Despite the weather and frost, there is no attractive appearance, but the heart is strong, exciting and reassuring.

I like things that wither, and I like things that calm down after withering. I always prefer residual lotus stems to bright and open lotus flowers. Full, prosperous and warm lotus will be disgusted, bored and disgusted for a long time, but the residual lotus will not. It is always attracted by her silence, which is the transparency, thinness and reality of life precipitated by the wind and sand over the years.

I like to quietly look at the lotus leaves and lotus stalks in the pond in windy late autumn or snowy winter. I don't show off, I don't ask for anything, I don't attract butterflies, I just lie quietly in the clear water, and finally, I cultivate myself into that clean, transparent and clear water-peaceful as water and demure as water.

Just like my favorite old man, he was too old, experienced the joys and sorrows at that time, saw through the essence of the world, but still loved it. How thorough and sober this should be. I like to live a clean and indifferent life like a withered lotus, guarding several volumes of poems, several cups of green plum tea and several bamboo houses. Even if there is a shortage, this shortage is awesome. When I was young, I was aboveboard and did not hesitate. Those pure flowers make my life awe-inspiring. However, when I look at the pool full of withered lotus flowers, I can't help but feel awe. It turns out that those seemingly gorgeous grand opening are just so much, just to please and please, and those withered branches and leaves have more character, spirit and backbone.

Lotus knows that she will not bloom proudly all her life, so she is determined to wither.

A friend asked, "Do you like Canlian?"

I said, "I don't like it. I like it so much. " This is what I look like. "

Yes, the bright and open white lotus does not belong to me. It's too white, too pure and too prosperous. I'd rather I'm just a lotus stalk in the residual lotus pond, inserted obliquely in the lotus pond, so that the wind can't blow down and the rain can't blow badly.

I like a bleak wind, the residual lotus after a bitter rain baptism, and the independent and indifferent residual lotus of a person's mountains and rivers.

My friend gave me another withered lotus, this time she painted it herself.

The gloomy picture, a few strokes, gives me a clear feeling of autumn water and long sky. Several lotus stems are slender and graceful, full of vigor and simplicity, and dead leaves are scattered in the water, which looks so casual. At first glance, behind that color is age, that is, years. So casual, horizontal, oblique, zero, falling, only the elderly can do this, there is no need to open white flowers, yellow stamens, blue Peng, white lotus roots. When you are old, you can walk freely and tilt freely. Don't care about others, why bother? Just be happy.

Yes, just be happy. But it's really hard to be happy. Only when Lotus is defeated can it be really happy and really free. Life is the same. When I was young, everyone was on the same busy road. Whether you like it or not, whether you like it or not, few people will have the courage to take their own lonely road. There are always so-called success models in front of you that you have to follow and imitate, and there is always helplessness in life that makes you do things you don't like. Only when you are old can you do whatever you want. You can get up early to grind a cup of soybean milk, which is light and sweet, and you can grasp it yourself, unlike what you buy-it is either too sweet or too light; You can personally knead dough, cook a jiaozi for your family, and decide what stuffing and sauce you want. In the restaurant, you can only eat what you have-what the residual lotus leaves me is a kind of casual beauty, casual and not moderate. I don't like the spirit of moderation. Rules and regulations bind people. You can't be sad when you are uncomfortable, and you can't be angry when you are uncomfortable. I might as well be a withered cross stalk. I like to be horizontal and inclined.

Friends also like residual lotus. She painted lotus, only residual lotus, and painted residual lotus with her own will. When I was in high school, I often watched her sit quietly on the desk and draw residual lotus during recess. Although there is infatuation and pursuit around me, I know that excitement does not belong to her, but to her. Her posture is also like a residual lotus, leaning against the corner of the table and painting regardless of her own wishes. In fact, I saw her warm, warm personality, she did not hesitate to draw the residual lotus, regardless of the surrounding noise. Who says true peace is not to avoid the noise of horses and chariots, but to repair the fence in your heart? She sat in the downtown area, built her own hedges, planted chrysanthemums and cultivated land in spring and autumn.

Look at the blooming lotus flowers in ancient palace paintings. They are all full and in full bloom. In short, they are all equally stupid. And those ghosting images all have their own appearance and posture. Although withered, it is so angular, with strange bones and delicate eyes. I always believe that the lotus is only the appearance, and the residual lotus is the inside. With strength and soul, a painter who can paint residual lotus has soul and life.

I like the remnants of my friends, and I like them willfully.

What's more, after a biting storm, it began to snow, and the withered residual load swayed in the wind, swaying at will, like a woman in a shawl, with long hair fluttering and winding at will in the cold wind, which was a messy beauty. Residual lotus is also such a kind of beauty, careless beauty, withered beauty.

Residual lotus is also a desolate beauty, like Zhang Ailing's novels. Gorgeous is only the appearance, desolation is the essence, but all articles are so beautiful that people can't stop. Just like the big Shanghai of that era, it was prosperous and extravagant, but after taking off this coat, it was still panic and cold. No matter how gorgeous the songs and dances are, under the bright lights, they still can't resist the autumn in that city-the bustling dream has a desolate style, but it makes people feel beautiful, desolate and gloomy.

Xue Xiangling, a rich woman in Lock Linnang, sang after falling: He taught me to stop hating and being angry, to turn over a new leaf, to change my temperament, to stop falling in love with water, and to realize Lanyin as soon as possible. ...

Chen Ziang boarded Youzhou Taiwan. He said, "Where was the past before me? Behind me, where are the future generations? "Some people praised the great loneliness shown by these two sentences.

Yes, this great loneliness is also a kind of beauty that withers like a remnant.

Look at the second half of Hony Master Li Shutong. The mountains are cold, the water is thin, and the plains are clean and safe, just like a landscape painting of everyone. Those flowery spring days are gone forever, gone forever, and there are no hops in piano, chess, calligraphy, painting and poetry. Some are just worn-out monk shoes, some are just a cup of boiled water, a bowl of rice and a dish of pickles. He said, salty has a salty taste, and light has a light taste. Life is completely divided into two parts, and the rest of his life is what he wants-he has read all the vicissitudes of life, tasted all the joys and sorrows, and finally saw the potential left by life, just like the gesture of the residual lotus. Fasting, practicing, writing poems, and participating in meditation are the rest of his life. It is really a landscape painting.

Residual lotus has a backbone and a soul. It is something I am addicted to, such as residual load, low temperature, decisive attitude, going my own way, regardless.

This is my favorite residual lotus. I took the desolation and monotony carved on the rings of the years, traveled through time and space, met her, and met her after a long separation.