Writing, the self-salvation of a crying little girl

I was born by accident, starting with my mother's thoughts. It is said that when the teacher's mother gave birth to two brothers, she always wore a ring for contraception. Later, she witnessed several colleagues giving birth to a third child. They wanted a boy and a girl. She went with the flow and thought, I wish I had another daughter, so I was born in a small town in the northeast a year later. At that time, my mother was nearly forty and my father was in his forties. The second brother is four years old and the eldest brother is six years old. On the day he came home from the hospital, the second brother knocked on the neighbor's door from door to door and announced, "There is a real doll in my house!" " "At that time, all the doors had high thresholds. Like a four-year-old child, he stumbled with joy and almost tripped over the threshold several times.

The times require that I seem to be a beloved little sister. But what I remember most about my childhood is loneliness and endless loneliness. I don't know if it's because of this, my childhood memories are very few, and I selectively forget them.

Dad hasn't been here since he was a child. The city where I was born at that time included the surrounding counties and townships, and my father was the pen holder of the Propaganda Department of the prefectural party committee. He either accompanied the leader to the countryside to inspect and was not at home, or went home to sit at his desk all night and write a speech to the leader. I don't remember what he said to me. My eldest brother's childhood memory is even more blurred, and it is a distant shadow. The distance of six years old seems to be the historical gap when I was a child. My second brother and I, who are four years older than me, sometimes overlap. He is a serious little policeman. Whenever I do something wrong, he will educate me and report me to my mother. Like all my brothers and sisters, my second brother and I quarreled over some trivial matters. As for why we quarreled at that time, I have no impression at all. Mom was always busy. At that time, there seemed to be more than 996 migrant workers. At night, all kinds of shouts often come from the school loudspeakers, and teachers have to go back to school to participate in the spiritual transmission of various instructions. Our home is close to the school, so my mother has no excuse not to listen. At that time, all the clothes were sewn by my mother herself. My mother is busy with work and housework, so naturally there is no ear left for me to talk to.

I should be a careless and carefree child by nature. My brother said that when I was a child, I walked regardless and stumbled everywhere. At that time, we still lived in the bungalow of the family members' hospital of the prefectural party Committee. There is a big kang in the room, and the chicken nest is opposite the kang. I really can't imagine how I can live and eat with my wife and live in peace. My brother said that sometimes when I stand up on the kang and walk casually, I will kick an apple into the henhouse. This action seems casual, but it is more accurate than playing football. I have no talent for sports. If I were allowed to play football exclusively, I would definitely not be able to play football. It's raining outside, I'm sure I'll wear a straw hat and run outside with a small basket, singing "I'm a small member of the commune, with a small sickle in my hand and a small bamboo basket on my back ..." I can only sing these words occasionally.

But I've been crying since I was a child. A child who loves to cry is a very emotional child and will observe things that others can't feel. It is said that dragonflies can see things moving around in slow motion format, just like slow motion in movies. Maybe my perception is different from others, but when I was young, no one had time to understand my perception. Every time I go to my grandparents' house, I always cry. Grandpa is upset by my crying and often scolds me: cry again, cry again and go home with your mother. Grandpa likes my clever and sensible eldest brother. He is a god in my heart. My parents didn't have time to take care of me for a while and left me at my grandparents' house. Grandpa is lying on the kang, and grandma is walking around the house, not knowing what she is doing. The surrounding walls are covered with newspapers and the windows are small. I can't see the sunshine coming in, and I feel out of breath. That kind of oppression, and I went to Beijing to study later, and returned to my isolated northeast hometown during the holiday.

My brothers don't take me to play. The distance between four and six years old is not easy to cross in childhood. My parents' friends are very old, and their children are as old as their brothers, or even older. I have no friends my age to play with. When I was a child, I often stayed at my older neighbor's sister's house and listened to what they said that I didn't understand at all. Later, I heard a few friends who had attended junior classes in college talk about their experiences in college, and I especially understood their embarrassment at that time.

I am a little girl who loves to cry and is timid, and I am also very dirty. My mother has little leisure and mood to dress me up. My two brothers in my memory are both handsome and smart, and I live in their shadow. This shadow is designed to follow me all my life, and there is nowhere to escape. Later, I went to the National People's Congress to go to school. People's Congress exists in the shadow of Peking University separated by a wall. Peking University has a domineering unnamed lake, and the National People's Congress has only a pitiful spoonful of ponds. Later, he immigrated to Canada to settle down, and Canada lived in the shadow of American big brother. I seriously doubt that both the National People's Congress and Canada blame me. I will always be the one who lives in the shadow.

When she grew up, the girl who cried seemed to be less fond of crying and began to have some ideas of her own. When I was a child, I had a secret that I didn't tell anyone, neither my brother nor my parents.

When I was a child, I often deliberately hid some little secrets from my parents and brothers, but in the end they would all see through them. For example, I have an embarrassing thing, that is, I still wet the bed when I am very old. My mother never scolds me, but my brother often makes fun of me. One morning, I was awakened by the damp and cold in the bedding, folded the bedding quietly and said I would go out to see the sun. I thought that at night, the map I drew in my dream would disappear like a mysterious map in a detective film, and the geese would fly without a trace. It turned out to be discovered. Later, my brother often teased me. Why don't you watch the sunrise?

It was in the second grade of primary school, on my way to school. When I grew up, I walked from home to the original primary school and found that the distance was actually very short, only ten minutes. But in the child's feeling, the road is very long, and many thrilling things can happen along the way. Outside the family compound where my family lived at that time, it was a relatively wild civilian area, and two children often ran out to intercept me. This is a brother and sister. My sister is younger than me, but she is very imposing and definitely has a feminine demeanor. Cowardly, I was scared to cry and did nothing. I didn't know at that time that I could fight back. I don't know how to fight back or how to fight.

But this secret is not about brothers and sisters who rob the road. I only remember that morning, on the way to school, I was mentally tortured while walking, and I was very sad about the paper I just took on the first day. My mother didn't scold me, but I could see that my mother was a little disappointed. My eldest brother went to middle school at that time and got good grades. He's like a god. Second brother is the captain of the Young Pioneers in our school. All the teachers at school know him. I am the captain's sister. His battalion chief often goes home to educate me about irregular behavior. I walked all the way, thinking about my examination paper, and felt unworthy to be the sister of my two outstanding brothers.

It was sunny that day, as if it had just rained, and the sky was surprisingly bright. I wonder why it is so bright today. Looking up at the sky, I was surprised to find two suns in the sky. Therefore, I swear to two suns that I will study hard, strive for excellent results and live up to my two brothers. I was eight years old. The eight-year-old crying girl swore to two suns.

My present astronomical knowledge makes me understand that there can't be two suns in the sky. Since Hou Yi shot out nine suns, there is only one unique sun in the sky. I don't know what the sky was like at that time, which made me mistakenly think it was two suns. Maybe the moon that hasn't set is reflected by the sun? Maybe these two suns are just to witness my inspirational vows? I was nearsighted since I was a child, and I didn't start wearing glasses at that time. My vision is actually very blurred. I'm really not sure what I saw.

Perhaps, there is no such morning at all, without my oath, all this just happened in a dream. Living to this age, I do have a lot of vague memories, and I don't know if it was a dream or if it really happened.

But after that day, my grades got strangely better and better. When I was admitted to a key middle school, that is, the middle school where my mother was a teacher, my grades turned out to be the first in the whole grade. Later, I was worried that the people in key middle schools were excellent, so I studied very hard. A year later, I ranked first, and I found that my total score was actually the first in my class.

That little girl who loves to cry and is timid has since become a schoolmaster, and a schoolmaster can cover up all the ugliness. I began to be known by the school teachers, and my mother would proudly mention me to others. I introduced my study experience on the school radio. The students all say that the voice is very nice.

In fact, I am still the sensitive and timid girl in my heart, although I am a few years older. I began to understand emotions later than girls my age. I don't know much about anything except study, secular experience and love between men and women. Poor sports quality, wearing deep myopia glasses, do not like to go out. At that time, there was no WeChat network. At that time, I was doing homework and reading books. Reading books can relieve loneliness. I have my father's China classics, Tang poetry and Song poetry at home, and literary publications such as Juvenile Literature. During the holiday, my mother took me to the school library and used the privilege of the teacher to let me borrow books at will. I really don't remember what I read at that time, but everything I read should be in my bones.

I chose liberal arts in my sophomore year. I don't know why I like liberal arts. I am a balanced student in all subjects. I got good grades in math and chemistry, and chemistry won an award in the city competition. Physics is a little weak, but it is also a score of 80 points. Chinese is very good. I have participated in city competitions and won prizes. But it is not particularly prominent. The lyrical narrative is well written, but the argumentative essay is average. English is also a very general subject for me. If I knew that I would make a living in English in the future, I would definitely spend more time. My art class is praised by my teacher every time, and I also won the grand prize in the school painting competition. Like several girls, I like to draw pictures of maids. Sometimes teachers give lectures in class, and we will draw them below. I have an album "Mustard Garden" at home. I like to draw Mei Zhu Lan in ink, but I seldom draw chrysanthemums because it is more difficult to draw.

I really don't remember why I chose to go to the above class. My mother's colleague came to my mother and said, "Teacher Zhang, how can you let your daughter go to school?" What kind of children do you say? " There was only one liberal arts class and five science classes. Liberal arts classes are all children who are not good at science, and there are many girls. There should be many girls in adolescence who can't study with peace of mind.

Then I went to the liberal arts class and became an alternative liberal arts student. Because I am late and ignorant, I will continue to be my schoolmaster. In the top three of our liberal arts class, I will always be the first. The second place is my best friend, a beautiful girl who blooms like a flower. Not only I love her, but also some male students love him, so I can't refuse to play the role of matchmaker. The third place is the Millennium third in the class, and there is also a three in his name. Later, I stayed in Canada for many years before returning to China and found that he had become a cultural celebrity and columnist.

When I was admitted to a university, my choice was a university in Beijing North. My second brother is in Peking University, but it's a pity that we are four years behind. I went, and he left. The discipline of Peking University is very traditional, and the discipline of the National People's Congress is very eye-catching. I took a fancy to a major: radio and television, thinking it was for writing plays. Turns out I'm a radio and television major in journalism. My neighbor's uncle and my father's colleague said that this girl is a woman who inherited her father's business. Because my father was later transferred from the propaganda department of the prefectural party Committee to the Radio and Television Bureau, where he was both a leader and a part-time editor.

Immigration to Canada will have a cultural shock, which is the eternal theme of immigration literature. In fact, I went to Beijing from a small town in the northeast, which was also a cultural shock. At that time, the northeast was closed and there was no internet, while Beijing was a metropolis. The students in our class come from all over the country and gather elites. All the girls in the journalism department are very beautiful, which makes me feel ashamed. Even I can't stick to the name Xueba, because everyone was Xueba in high school.

Maybe I studied too hard in high school and couldn't get into college. When I got to college, I began to relax, danced on weekends, fell in love, read Gu Yonglong, the golden retriever of Qiong Yao, and often skipped classes. I once joined a literary poetry club and wrote several obscure poems. A few years ago, I went back to China to meet my college classmates. Roommates say that the wall of your bed says, "People who know me worry me; What do I want if you don't know me? Who is this? " I am curious. Am I too melodramatic? She said that I once looked forward to the future like this: "When I am old, I won't need exams. I must read martial arts novels every day. " In front of her eyes appeared a picture of a white-haired old lady reading Xiao Li's flying knife at night. Now this wish can come true, and I'm not white-haired. Even if there are a few strands of silver, hair dye is enough to cover it. It's just that Gu Yong can't satisfy me anymore. I will watch tricks, I will watch his martial arts novels to cultivate immortals, and I will be obsessed with the world he built.

I studied news photography in college, took photos with a SLR camera and developed film photos myself. I also study shooting and recording, and editing audio and video news programs. There are articles named by the teacher in the writing class, one of which is about my untimely uncle. The teacher said it was good, but the tone was not positive enough. In other words, my article is not a mainstream positive energy article.

Later, I worked as an intern, went to Tianjin Daily, studied with the newspaper teacher, and sent some financial news, but I couldn't find it. But I died soon after my internship, and I went home early in June that year.

After another year, I graduated and stayed at the State Administration for Industry and Commerce. Since then, I have nothing to do with my journalism. My four-year journalism career seems to be a short-lived love, a fruitless love.

The college students assigned to the national ministries and commissions in those two years are ready to go to the local authorities for exercise. This "decentralized" one is strange to me. This is more like showing me a new world than decentralization. I went to Xuzhou Industrial and Commercial Bureau with several college students for a year. One year in Xuzhou gave me two impressions: First, Xuzhou, which I thought was an unruly place in Into the Wasteland, actually retained many cultural details. The leaders of my industrial and commercial bureau and some seemingly mediocre employees all like calligraphy and write well. Second, the eating and drinking atmosphere in the industrial and commercial sector is outrageous. I wonder what is the original intention of the National Bureau to let us decentralize? In fact, what I learned should be what they don't want us to learn. As a college student in the National Bureau, it has become a secret weapon of my leadership in the wine bureau, and it has been tried and tested. The northeast girl's natural drinking power was fully tapped in that year. I remember my brother and sister-in-law who were already in America talked about how I practiced Chinese calligraphy and criticized the restaurant. They said, Stop it and learn English.

I hate English when I use it, and I won't know it until I go abroad. I came to Canada on July 1st, the National Day. I was less than a month pregnant and my daughter and son were born one after another. Then I began to study, work and struggle in the English computer world. Until 20 14, wechat began to learn Chinese typing and started to blog in literature city and write in Chinese.

Some friends say that you study journalism and have written before. Of course it is. In fact, all of us have written something, not just liberal arts students. When we were young, we wrote compositions; When we were young, we kept a diary; When we were in college, we wrote letters. Recently, I read the letter I wrote to my best friend in college, and I was shocked by it. The brushwork at that time was so natural and sincere. If I write a letter now, I may not even know how to say it. Modern people prefer voice and video as direct communication methods.

At that time, that timid and sensitive girl, who knew nothing about the world, had already been thoroughly remoulded in Canada. I majored in computer science, switched to code farming and gave birth to a child. My horizons are gradually broadened, and my emotional intelligence is accumulated bit by bit. I am still simple, but I am no longer timid.

My writing is a process of self-improvement. I didn't set any goals for myself, I just wrote casually. Because my writing is not an end, not a pursuit, but a kind of self-improvement and self-redemption.

There are two sentences: read thousands of books and take Wan Li Road. I want to add: write 10 thousand articles.

Hesse's novel Siddhartha tells that people can understand life in two ways. Siddhartha, the hero, experienced everything that people can have, such as sex and money, through his personal experience of the world, and then abandoned all bondage and listened to the sound of the river, that is, his understanding of nature. Siddhartha's friend Govinda is listening to the Buddha's sermon and being led by others.

Govinda studied in thousands of books and Siddhartha studied in Wan Li Road.

And what I want to say is: writing thousands of articles, self-perception and self-cognition become more clear in writing. Just as we use words to record travel in order to have beauty better.

Let's take a look at john ruskin's theory of beauty and how to have it: First, the composition of beauty is complex, which has an impact on people's psychology and vision; Second, people are naturally eager to have beauty; Third, there are low-level performances such as buying souvenirs, taking photos, and engraving "this trip once"; Fourth, the correct way to have beauty is to understand beauty and be sensitive to the factors that contribute to it, so as to have beauty; Art, painting and writing are the most effective ways to understand beauty, whether you have such talent or not.

In other words, whether you have a gift for writing or not, writing down what you see and feel outdoors will help you pursue beauty more effectively and understand it. So as to have beauty. Because in the process of writing, we have a deeper observation and understanding of beauty.

Similarly, writing ourselves in words, what we see, hear, feel, think and expect is introspection and introspection, which is a kind of perfection and redemption for ourselves. Everyone has some obsession, something we can't let go of. Writing can make us purify these obsessions, so as to achieve openness and peace of mind.

Thank you, President Li Lang, for preparing for the theme activity "Tell Your Story" of Canadian Women Writers Association, which gave me a more objective analysis of my childhood memories. As a sensitive little girl, from my point of view, many memories are not true, and I am sometimes troubled by those memories that I misunderstood. Chatting with my brothers, they talked about how I was spoiled as a child and what was delicious. My mother gave me more, and the other two brothers shared equally. When I was a child, I never did housework. Both brothers made a fire to cook. Because I cooked on the fire and forgot to come back when I went out to play, I burned several cast iron pots and was often spanked by my mother with a broom handle.

Writing, on the other hand, is a way for me to redeem myself and realize the unity of man and nature.

Conscious writing began in my middle age, just like I started outdoor sports. It's just that my outdoor sports started from scratch. My physical education quality has always been poor, and I am often worried that physical education class in middle schools and universities will reach the standard. Now swimming, boating, hiking, skiing and skating have corresponding outdoor sports all year round. Writing should be a natural continuation of composition, diary and letter writing in the past, and code words have always been a natural thing for me. Reading is accompanied by writing.

David Brooks, a columnist in The New York Times, said in his book The Second Mountain: The Pursuit of Moral Life: Middle Age is actually about climbing the second mountain. People climb the first mountain from birth to the top of the mountain in middle age to get material wealth. The second mountain in life is the pursuit of spiritual perfection and satisfaction. Middle age is not going downhill, nor is it stagnant, but climbing again. My second peak is to pursue self-improvement with extra energy when children grow up and leave home, their work and life are relatively stable and they have no worries about food and clothing.

I began to write in free verse, modern poetry and prose. I put the interest in life into poetry, and eat, drink and be merry into poetry: "Taste is known by eating and drinking, and poetry is born of interest."

Go swimming in the lake in summer;

Boating in autumn to enjoy autumn;

Make some five-kernel crisp moon cakes after boating in the Mid-Autumn Festival;

My prose begins with writing about my family. For example, I wrote an article "Go to buy coffee with you", which is about middle-aged couples running into each other by buying coffee. "Out of the window, you are my eternal scenery" is to write my changes to my son's growth from the perspective of the window.

Since I started outdoor sports, many of my essays and travel notes are about the outdoors, such as boating, swimming and skiing.

I like outdoor, because it is close to nature, and it is the feeling of harmony between man and nature. The highest state of harmony between man and nature and selflessness is bathing in the lake, that is, swimming naked. Like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, she was never ashamed to expose herself before stealing the forbidden fruit.

I wrote in a travel note "One Boat, One World-Boating and Camping in-La Vérendrye Wildlife Sanctuary", which recorded my husband and I going out boating and camping alone:

In the last two years, I began to try fictional novels and published them under the title "What is False is True". When posting in the library, I often get encouragement and suggestions from simple friends, such as Mu Rong Stuart and Xiao Wu over there.

As a full-time worker, if you want to write, you have to face a problem of how to make better use of your time. My work is not the busiest, but it is impossible to write during working hours. If there are problems to be solved at work in a few days, there will be some pressure. After work, I may watch a drama to decompress, and sometimes I don't want to watch it unless it is a popular online novel. So when to write is really a problem that I need to coordinate better.

I also found that my writing status needs to change between different genres, sometimes writing more poems and sometimes writing more articles. Recently, there have been a lot of metrical writing, which obviously has some influence on writing long articles, not only because of time, but also because of writing thinking mode.

I have mastered how to take Wan Li Road, and my outdoor sports have become an important part of my life. But how to read thousands of books and write ten thousand articles is what I need to work hard and pursue.

Writing is a kind of self-salvation, but it is also a pursuit to implement.