Use "my" story as an imagination to give a reminder to the 40-year-old born in the 1980s! When you are tired, try to stop and take a rest!
From the bed in the emergency room to the mountains and rivers of his hometown, from the dim light of the stove in the old house to the stone steps of the thousand-year-old road, from the worries of youth to life and death in middle age, this long "soul journey" is actually an affectionate review of the whole life.
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Origin and roots
The starting point of the soul journey was the low stool beside the stove in the old house where my father often sat. There were no words there, only a glimmer of light, but it anchored the tone of the entire trip: hometown is not a geographical coordinate, but the spiritual origin. My father's silent presence, my grandfather's warmth as he walked across the field, the absurd sadness of being praised when my grandmother died, and my desire for "second place" under the old tree in primary school - these constituted the initial background of "my" life: rough, real, but full of warmth.
Ancient roads, stone vats, yellow horn trees, and induction temples all contain the sweat and legends of our ancestors. The migration of Bao Gong's descendants, the rise and fall of the bandit village, the bells of the Shizi Temple, and the paving of the road - these superimposed "livelihoods and silences" made "I" realize that an individual's life is just a very faint stroke in the thousand-year narrative of this land, but this stroke must be completed by myself.
