"We get happiness from material things" and "we get happiness from being free from material constraints" are not just two choices. The lonely island of stagnation, the fire maple with moss on the joints, the sleeping pebbles embedded in the cracks of the wooden boards, the pale raincoat trying to cover the lotus pods, and the dust of love lingering in the dent of the leather shoes, are they also the so-called Luxiang?
I don't want to go back to the mainland in this originally warm world, I just want to be a wisp of duckweed and be gentle with the lonely traveler; I no longer think about wandering in red and green, I just want to be vigorous, green, red and blooming at the same time; I don't want to be tossed around in the dust anymore I've been wandering around looking for your figure. If I could see your calm eyes during the rain break for thousands of years, I would turn into stone. I don't want to be in the name of being unstained by the mud, and I love you, even if I'm covered in mud. I don't want to be buried in the mud and protect the beauty of flowers. I want to follow you a little further. Maybe, I just want to love you in the name of happiness.
And you are me in the years.
I hope you can enjoy the state of wabi-sabi amid the flow of material desires and feel the slightest sense of sadness or interest in things.
Wabi is simplicity. Silence is ancient. The former is the opposite of luxury, transcending outward appearance. The latter is a new antithesis, challenging time. Live a kind of beauty that transcends the outside world and time. Simple but not crude, ancient but not old. It's not bluffing, but it stays strong over time. It can be reduced to its essence without stripping away the charm of life; it can be kept pure and indifferent without taking away vitality. The beauty that is not beautiful is the original beauty.
After sweeping the fallen-leaf courtyard clean, gently shake the tree to shake off a few leaves.
"If someone doesn't love his son, the flowers won't bloom for him."