《Honey&娘子》十九: Our Experiences as an Interracial Couple

《Honey&娘子》十九: Our Experiences as an Interracial Couple

People stare at us.

I don’t know which feels ruder: the ones that try to hide it, or the ones that don’t even bother.

At first it was funny. We didn’t mind being a surprise to everyone on the streets. Why, we were a surprise to even ourselves! We’d met in college when we were 20, sharing a ride to go to church on Sunday. I’d never dated anyone non-Chinese before, and Wouter wasn’t even going to be around long-term, so the thought of romance was far from my mind the day he slipped into the car, 15 minutes late. He was just an exchange student from Australia, in America for 6 months, who happened to wanted to check out the same church, who happened to have been offered a ride by the same good people, and who, in the end, I happened to fall in love with. As it turned out, love found us, and surprised us.

We dated for years, most of it long-distance. We paid for expensive and exhausting flight trips to be in each other’s company a few weeks a year. And if people stared at us when we were together, well, we had to pick the things that we felt warranted our attention. Time was precious, we had eyes only for each other.

When we started noticing the attention (it became hard not to, when the world started registering with us again, and when people stop in their tracks to stare), we laughed it off at first. Once, while waiting for the light to change at an intersection, a man from across the street stared for so long, and as if he couldn’t help himself, started approaching us. I became a little jumpy. He might’ve noticed my nervousness, realized what he was doing, and managed to save it last minute by sticking out his thumb and shouting “beautiful couple!”. As if he’d walked all the way across the street to ogle us at arm’s length because we were beautiful! But it was hilarious that in 2016, on the streets of America, in a diverse city, we could draw a man across the street with our mere presence.

Another time we were in China together, trying to buy noodles from a fast food restaurant. When we came through the door, the girls in front of the register caught sight of Wouter and started giggling like crazy. We pretended to not know what was funny. When it was our turn to order the food, before I had the chance to place my order, one of the girls asked, “Do you want to marry him?”

I was caught off guard. We’d been dating for 3 years at that point, but because most of it had been long-distance, we’d not thought of marriage yet. Even my best friend hadn’t asked me that question.

“I want,” I said, smiling and looking her straight in the eye, “two beef noodle soups, please”.

They giggled the whole time we were trying to eat our noodles. We finished as fast as we could, and did our own bit of giggling when we finally left the restaurant. You’d think they’d never seen a living white person before!

We tried to make light of the attention we received. We laughed that maybe we were beautiful, and pretended to be a glamorous couple. We scrounged for other reasons for the attention, maybe it was because we were tall. At 6 feet and 5’7″, we were tall-ish, but not towering over everyone. Easily lost in a crowd. Maybe it was because we comported ourselves differently, I was very Chinese (I liked clothes that have subtle Chinese touches) and he spoke with a British/Australian accent. But in the end, it got to us.

It became tiring to have to defend something so intimate, so precious and so essential to our identities – our marriage – on a daily basis, to complete strangers. Sometimes it commanded more energy than I had at the moment. It was hard not to think about what was going on in people’s minds when they gave us long hard looks. The cumulative effects wore us down, and it was less funny, more offensive, and we became retaliatory.

Once we were at a supermarket together, Wouter was pushing the shopping cart. I wanted to duck into an aisle for some canned thing, and a white lady was standing in the middle of the aisle, looking at the shelves. The aisles were narrow, and there really was no need for Wouter to follow me in with the shopping cart. We exchanged looks. Living and shopping together established an understanding between us. The look meant: wait here, I’ll grab it, 5 seconds.

“Excuse me,” I whispered, trying to get past the lady in the aisle without disturbing her. She turned to look, registered our appearance, and then, gave me a once-over without budging. I didn’t know what to do, so I quickly squeezed past her. A split second later, I heard Wouter declare “EXCUSE ME” in a loud voice, and he pushed past her with the shopping cart. That made sure she moved.

Just last week, we went to Chinatown for some pre-cooked dish. I ordered them and Wouter stepped up to pay. He’s the one that carries the credit card and the cash. The Chinese lady hands me the food and sneaks looks at me, “Are you used to it?”, she asks, “White boyfriends don’t pay. Only Chinese boyfriends pay.”

I couldn’t believe that the price for honey BBQ pork and wings was having to defend my marriage and my husband. And it was completely beside the point, as Wouter was the one paying. “My HUSBAND”, emphasis husband, “always pays”. She said something else under her breath, I caught the word “husband”, and she laughed to herself. I left the store very flustered, and the honey BBQ pork was utterly tasteless.

Stranger still are the probing questions we get, the most common of which is, “how did you meet?” I rehearsed this one.

“In college”, I’d say, or sometimes, “At church.” I gave polite, terse, two-word answers with a tone that was intended to deflect attention, to say “this is quite inappropriate thank you very much.”

According to statistics, 10% of couples meet in college, 10% at church, 20% through colleagues, 40% through friends, and the rest through the internet, at bars, on vacations. So college and church were mainstream, inoffensive, boring but true answers.

Except it never satisfied people. They’d wait expectantly, after my two-word answer, and when they realize no more is coming, try to follow it up, “but where are you from?”

Now that’s a question that has many answers, depending on where I am and who’s asking. But following “how did you meet” it means “what, you mean an American college? An American church? Unbelievable.” And once, to Wouter, “your parents must have been surprised!” right in front of me. And while I am fiercely proud of being Chinese, and Wouter of being Australian, we were wary of these questions that somehow suggested we didn’t belong together, that it must have been some chance encounter somewhere exotic.

I daydreamed about sassy answers to these questions. “I ordered him from a catalogue”, I would drawl, and watch people gape and grapple, or “do you ask everyone this, or just the attractive people?” And force them to see the deeply personal nature of their questions. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it, not to cashiers at supermarkets we frequent, not to shoppers standing in line or people we see in church every week. I would be too embarrassed. And so, I end up telling our life story to complete strangers. At best, we’ll end up as gossip around their dinner table, but most likely, I was forced to reach for something intimate, personal, trying to justify a relationship they had no business questioning, just to satisfy their momentary curiosity and judgment.

Though I couldn’t pretend that all of these questions were judgmental or some form of racial policing. Sometimes it’s just uncurbed curiosity and out-loud wonder. However, despite intentions, these cumulative experiences left their marks in ways I hadn’t realized. Once, at a dinner table, when genuine friends asked with genuine interest how we had met, I did a very bad job telling the story, stumbling over dates and details, looking down at my plate, trying to finish the story as fast as I could, embarrassed and agitated for no real reason.

It amazes me that in a world we proudly call post-racial, half a century after anti-miscegenation laws have been abolished, when first-generation interracial couples are likely in their graves, we still command so much attention just because of the way we look. “It’s just looks and questions,” is often the consolation friends try to offer us when we complain, “you can’t control what stupid people do. Just ignore it.”

As it turns out, ignoring attention is easier said than done. Daily scrutiny and interrogating questions in places least expected have made us wary and angry. We became aware of stereotypes associated with a coupling like ours, and became more defensive, more self-conscious, more agitated. And it has become increasingly frustrating as we realize that there is no real way to stop it, that we and our future family are doomed to penetrating stares, once-overs, uncurbed curiosities and probing questions: Where are you from? How did you meet? Are your families surprised? And, according to other interracial couples, when children come along, another horrifying and condescending question is added to the throng: what is he/she?

Little did we know when we repeated after the pastor, with stars in our eyes, “love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things”, that racial stereotypes would be the battle we’d be called to endure and fight. And so we trudge along life doggedly, shedding the naivete that the world will accept love for love, wearing an armor bestowed upon us: an armor hammered with interrogating stares, welded by inappropriate questions, bent from judgements and misconceptions, and smoothed and polished by our own soul-searching discussions about race, ethnicity, faith and love.

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Posted by on November 2, 2018 in Uncategorized























咖啡机跟着第七任联合国秘书长叫安南 (Kofi Annan)。每日睡前的最后一件事便是与安南说好第二天闹钟响时要闻到咖啡的香味。


蒸米的小红炉随美国国务卿叫康迪 (Condoleezza Rice)。冬日想吃小火锅时也用康迪煮过青菜,颇有些红泥小火炉的味道。


一只叫Katniss的猫,一只叫Fishmael的鱼,说好了往后要养一只狗,为了狗的名字却争论不休。我要跟着猫和鱼的取名思路叫Dogmatix,W却冒出来了罗马皇帝Barkus Aurelius,或者Mao Ze Dog。简直惊呆。巧思泉涌,争论不休。日子便在你争我论中从指间滑过了。


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Posted by on June 20, 2018 in Uncategorized






































苏秦为中国文学贡献了两个成语:“悬梁刺股”和“前倨后恭”。苏秦即“悬梁刺股”中的“刺股”者。他随鬼谷子学习多年,年少便有大志,变卖家产,求取功名。但是他的连横之术未被采纳,因此衣衫褴褛的回到家中。家中亲人见他如此落魄,“妻不下织,嫂不为炊,父母不与言”。苏秦大受打击,闭门读书。“读书欲睡,引锥自刺其股,血流至足”。后来他再次周游列国,这次终于说服六国“合纵”抗秦,六国封相,衣锦还乡。“苏秦之昆弟妻嫂侧目不敢仰视,俯伏侍取食。苏秦笑谓其嫂曰:“何前倨而后恭也?”嫂委慐蒲服,以面掩地而谢曰:“见季子位高金多也。” 苏秦感慨地叹息说:“同样是我这个人,富贵了,亲戚就敬畏我,贫贱时,就轻视我。何况一般人呢!” 于是散千金以赐宗族朋友






我们到底为什么读书?为宫室之美?妻妾之奉?所识穷乏者得我欤?不然。我想我们读万卷书,行万里路,其实是一场漫长的自我修行。是从学海无涯中有了横向和纵向的人生大局观。眼界宽了,便解人生苦短,众生皆苦,抓住该抓住的,放开该放开的。 小人斤斤计较、患得患失,君子则乐观豁达、光明磊落。我们读书,从来不是为了出人头地,不是为了学而优则仕,不是为了扬眉吐气后能对着曾经羞辱过我们的人耀武扬威,而是经历过这个过程,知道君子见机,达人知命;明白不戚戚于贫贱,不汲汲于富贵;能够酌贪泉而觉爽,处涸辙以犹欢。所谓达则兼济天下,若读书能够带来什么意外之喜,让我们有了可以影响其他人的机会,那么希望我们传递的是智慧与善意;而穷则独善其善,其实也不一定是隐居避世,乃是在穷困孤独的时刻,仍然不失德、不丧志。读书拯救了我们,把我们从人性本能的贪得无厌、嫌贫爱富、以怨报怨的戚戚小人之态中拉出来,给了我们另一种君子坦荡荡的生存的空间和可能。


愿方卿千帆归来,已不再是那个斤斤计较的少年。愿他有一颗怜悯的心,看人世百态。引用了很多古文,最后以英国诗人吉卜林(Rudyard Kipling) 的诗“如果”结束。这是全世界所有的读书人对少年的期待:














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Posted by on May 12, 2018 in Uncategorized









我自己在心里又琢磨了一下,似乎觉得可以准确表达了。“他很慢的语速后面,是一种不自知的判断,传达的信息是:我不属于这里,我是外国人。而且更荒唐的是,我开口讲话以后,他默认了我是本土人, 所以又不问我来自哪里。”







我又无话可说了。我也懂得由己及人,也懂得易地而处。我不是不知道美国朋友的人生与我们的差异很大。但是在我心里激起涟漪的点在于,她为什么可以这样坦然的活在这种无知之中而不自知?而这两次和W交流的障碍也让我有所警觉。我不能因为无法准确表达自己、就认为这扑朔迷离的情感是不存在的。我开始寻找准确的语言、也把生命中类似的经历串联在一起。我找到了一个词,“白人特权”,white privilege.

1988年女性学家Peggy McIntosh第一次提出“白人特权”这个概念。“特权”与我们直观想到的可以得到更多资源、可以凌驾于他人之上不同,更多是精神上的“特权”,包括但不限于:

  1. 可以在主流文化中(杂志、电视、书籍、玩具、画像)看到自己种族的形象。可以肯定自己的孩子在受教育的过程中可以时时看到自己的种族被正面的描写和代表(如迪士尼公主,乐高小人)。(这点的重要之处在于正面形象的构造,比如认为白人长相很“美”,白人形象“高大”“正义”等,而这种审美被轻而易举代入生活中。所有人种的小女孩都喜欢金发碧眼的洋娃娃)。

  2. 可以骂人、穿旧衣服、不回信而不会被认为某族人就是素质低、穷、没文化。(坏行为不会被归于种族,好行为也不会被认为是某族人的“杰出代表”。在任何状况下都不会被期待代表自己的“全族类”。)

  3. 可以对其他种族的语言文化保持无知而无后果。

Peggy McIntosh一共罗列46条,总而言之,“白人的”(在此也可以替代为“美国白人的”)就是正常的、主流的,而其他文化语言则是异域的、小众的、边缘的,虽然从纯数目上来说已并非如此。这其中也有很多“特权”是交叉存在的,如中产阶级特权、男权等,不可一言以盖之。然而这还是引起了我许多的共鸣,我突然给自己的很多感觉找到了语言。



当W是一群中国人中唯一的白人时,没有一个人会期待他说中文 。然而当我是一群白人中唯一的亚洲人中,融入“主流”文化是不言而喻的、最低的期待。


我给W看了Peggy McIntosh所罗列的46项特权,他也承认这是客观存在的。我类比,“所以生而为男性、白人、中产阶级,就好像赢了彩票吧。可以因为这些‘并非努力而得来’的属性而被喜欢、被欣赏、被信任、被尊重。”




我简直要抓头发了。他怎么可以这样想呢? 我百般压抑后指出,“你说这是神的恩典有两个问题。因为没有人配得神的恩典,所以巧妙的避过了在社会生活中因为肤色白人得到的凌驾于公平之上权力。另外,如果这是神的恩典,那么神的恩典可以临到任何人。可我们所讨论的因为肤色而带来的特权是不会临到有色人种的。”







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Posted by on April 28, 2018 in Uncategorized


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Posted by on March 14, 2018 in Uncategorized




几日前翻阅以前所写种种,看到2015年7月,W 25岁生日前夕我写给他的一段话。不在一起的日子里,本该简单的事情都寸步维艰。生日是有时差的,礼物是有大小内容限制的。聊表情意的,只是一段话而已。然而这段话,似乎很好的总结了我们当时的状态和心路历程。



另一场有趣的对话也突然映入脑海。我们从教会敬拜回来后顶着漫天风雪步履维艰地往食堂行进。你高高的鼻尖在冷风中愈发显得红彤彤的。风仿佛跟人有仇似的,使劲往衣服里钻。不知道为什么,我突然在雪地里看到一个半隐半现的似乎是鞋底一样的东西。我指着它大喊道,“看啊,一个遗失的鞋底!” (英文中鞋底“sole”同灵魂“soul”同音)我们的眼睛隔着风雪相遇,我在你充满笑意的眸子里看到自己唇边荡漾的俏皮。你从肚子里发出一串爽朗的笑声,大声问,“会有人失了魂而一无所知么?”我们仿佛触电般跑着进入了食堂。橘色的墙壁透着春天的气息,五颜六色的盘子浓烈如冬日的夕阳。雪花在我的发梢闪耀,又悄然融化。我们已经相识4个月。离别踏着悄悄的步子,在不知不觉中向我们走近了。

我最近在翻阅自己在Facebook上上传过的照片。其中一个相册让我驻足不前。说起来,这大概是我所有相册中最无聊的一个了。乍一看像是堆积了许多既无取景、也无立意的手机随拍。可是,透过那些不太有艺术性的照片和略显矫情的配字,我还是看到了一份浓浓的、化不开的、少女的孤独。在一片一望无际的蓝天白云下,我曾经写过,“天空知道我多想你,因而绵绵无绝期”;在Martin Jischke Drive(在普度时,从实验室回家的必经之路)春日的夕阳里,我写过“落日的颜色就是我心灵的颜色”;一棵古树配字“树不仅仅只是一棵树,它历经沧桑,所以充满智慧”;坐在Wabash河边,看着静静的河水,我说,“我想抱着你,像河水抱着河堤”。那是一段多么寂寞的日子啊!不是因为寂寞才想你,而是因为想你才寂寞。我时刻都清醒地意识到自己的缺失和不完整。








One of the earliest memories I have of our conversations together is when I told you, with the confidence and clarity of a 20-year-old girl, that I was going to get married before the age of 26. Never mind that I didn’t even have a boyfriend. Never mind that I wasn’t even old enough to legally drink. It all didn’t matter, because whatever I set my mind to, got done. Just. Like. That. Afterwards that conversation strayed into the topic of marriage and family, and you, solemn and serious, said that your grandmother had once told you that for two people to get along, they need to have come from similar backgrounds with much of the same values. This took place outside of the double doors of Ford dining court. The lazy autumn sun shone overhead. We’d known each other scarce 2 months.

Another much jollier conversation comes to mind. We were making our way to Hillenbrand for lunch after church through a raging winter storm. The tip of your nose was pink from the cold. An icy sheet of snow was swept into our faces. For some reason, barely visible through the snow, was the bottom of someone’s shoe. I pointed to it and said, “Look, a lost sole.” Our eyes caught, dancing with merriment and laughter. And then you roared your belly laugh, and demanded to know, “How could anyone not notice losing their soul?” After that, we ran into the Hillenbrand dining hall, where walls glowed orange and the plates were the color at the heart of a winter sunset. Snowflakes glistened and melted on my hair. We’d known each other almost 4 months. At that point, we were much closer to saying goodbye than we’d have guessed.

I was going through some of my facebook albums a while ago. One particular album caught my attention. Actually, it’s probably the most boring collection of pictures out of all my pictures on facebook. At first glance, they are just low-quality iphone pictures of seemingly random scenery with caption. Yet despite my poor picture-taking skills and my limited mastery of words, they manage to evoke a deep loneliness and longing that came as a result of your departure. Underneath a picture of endless blue sky and clouds I’d written “the sky knows how much I miss you~ that’s why it stretches on and on~”. The spring sunset on Martin Jischke Drive had the caption “the sunset on this road is the color of my heart”. The picture of a tall tree read “a tree is never just a tree, it is bigger and deeper and wiser than a girl like you will ever be”. And while sitting wistfully on the banks of the Wabash, I “want to hug you like the river hugs the trees”. Those were lonely days, and made especially so because I was constantly aware of missing a vital part, of not being whole.

The days stretched into months and the months into years. Things fell into a pattern, and we’d made a habit of seeing each other twice a year. Once in the heat of summer, when the days are long and adventures plentiful; and once in the depth of winter, when stews are especially delicious and cuddles especially warm. The bone-deep loneliness eased, and we both got on with life. In time, I too, left Purdue, which held short but wonderful memories of us together. We made new friends, started new lives, but the fabric of our love remained strong. Far apart, we’ve kept faith, and together we’ve experienced the wonders of God’s grace.

Throughout the years I’ve learned to be patient. I’ve learned to surrender my plans and draw strength from God. I no longer say with dead certainty that I’m going to be married before the age of 26, because I know the years mean nothing when one’s reward is according to God’s plans, according to Him time. I no longer hold the microscopic picture of a warm and glowing house or the glorious visions of a changed world in the center of my heart, but have learned to seek first the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness. And you’ve grown and changed too! You’ve discarded the indecisiveness that used to paralyze you, you’ve set aside the doubts and misgivings that used to shadow every major decision. You’ve learned too, to lean on the Lord, and trust that He will hold you safe after every leap. The harvest has been bountiful indeed, and the promise of morphing and changing ever more like Christ is glorious to entertain and awe-inspiring when actually encountered.

After New Years this year, you’ve been in a mad rush to get papers published and your PhD thesis submitted, in order to start your new job at Caltech in the beginning of July. About once every two weeks, we’d hit a moment of panic in which something goes wrong with work, and we wonder, yet again, if things are going to get done on time. Then near to the very end, the US visa system had a glitch and it was not until early this week that you cleared everything for coming to the US. Immediately, it seemed, you booked a Friday flight and the future has arrived on our doorstep with alarming speed. Throughout all this we’ve had nothing to fall back on but the sufficiency of God’s grace, and indeed, He has provided enough to carry us through one crisis after another. Just a few days ago we were talking about the details of your trip and how our wedding planning was going to happen now that we are both abroad, and you said, with calm and competence, “it is what it is and we’ll deal with it.” That had been my line for the past five years, when in grimness and stubbornness I’ve told you again and again, it is what it is, and we’ll deal with it. And I remarked on that, to which you’d replied, “exactly, that’s how you know I’m ready to be your husband.”

And so my honey, on the morning of your 25th birthday, you’ll read this and know that I’m also ready for our life together, to celebrate our birthdays together from this year onward, to celebrate every day together. (And as a side note, we did get married before the age of 26, by God’s grace.) Have the happiest of birthdays, and godspeed on your Caltech journey.
Yours with love,



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Posted by on March 13, 2018 in Uncategorized






粗略翻译一下:对不确定是否存在过的时间和地点说不清的乡愁。就像走进一个人的家或者一个特定的地点而产生的一种感觉。不是味觉引起的,好像就是一种氛围。像做梦一样。有时候我会有一种既陌生却有特别熟悉亲切的感觉。这和我以前去过哪里或者经历过什么关系不大,好像就取决于身边的一些东西,在季节变换的时候尤为明显。我小时候经常会有这种感觉,尤其是在风雨大作的夜晚、或者临近黎明黄昏的时光,抑或在梦里。有的地方会加强这种感觉。我以前一直以为这是对童年的眷恋,但是在我童年没有去过的地方也会有这种感觉。这强烈的向往曾经让我落泪。这绝对是一种怅惘,但却有一点美好。随着年龄的增长这样的感觉越来越少了,虽然这种感觉让我忧愁,但我却很恐惧有一天它再也不会来了。(Nostalgia for a place that doesn’t exist in a time that never was. You know how when you walk into people’s houses or certain places you get a distinct feeling from it? It’s not a smell…but just kind of a vibe? Time periods and dreams too? Sometimes I get a vibe that’s completely unfamiliar yet at the same time it’s almost too familiar. It’s not from anywhere I’ve ever been or any time of my life but it comes and goes depending on what’s around me and it’s strongest during seasonal transitions. I used to feel it a lot more when I was younger, usually from either the wind howling at night or during dawn/dusk, and it would be present in a lot of dreams. Sometimes when I go to places it gets more intense. I thought it was just nostalgia from childhood but it happens in places from where I wasn’t even a child. Plus, I’ve had these feelings for as long as I can remember(meaning I started having this nostalgia when I was around 4 at the oldest). It used to make me cry from such an intense feeling of longing. However, it’s not entirely sad. It’s almost pleasant in a twisted way. It’s coming less often as I’m getting older and despite it sometimes feeling sad, I’m terrified that one day it will never come back.)


我不知道怎样把中文诗词转述给W,便翻出了葡萄牙诗人Fernando Pessoa(费尔南多·佩索亚)在《惶然录》中的名句:那些荒诞的感情最容易刺痛人心——对不可能的向往,对不存在的怀念;对其它可能性的欲望;对自己不是他人的遗憾;对世界形态的不满。这些心灵深处的叹息雕刻出一片苦痛的心境,用残阳如血诠释着我们的灵魂。(粗译)(The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd — the longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.)

W说德语中有一个词,Sehnsucht,是怅往、思念的意思。Sehnsucht的词根是das Sehnen:向往,和das Siechtum:忧愁。威尔士语中也有一个类似的词,Hiraeth:对过去(家乡)的向往、怀恋、惆怅和追思。葡萄牙语中的saudade,罗马尼亚的dor,俄语的toska,都有相同的意思:灵魂深处的哀痛与不安,对不确定对象的强烈向往与思念。有时候是撕心裂肺的痛楚,有时候是云淡风轻的闲愁。中文里我们称其为“乡愁”。




诗人是组织语言的天才,他们把意象、音律组织好了,是为了表达一种感情。而逝者如斯夫,到了今天,千年后我们体会到相同的感情时,信手借他们的诗句表达一下。倘若没有那句诗,也许我们对“明月出天山”无言以对,只能“啊!啊!啊!”,这也没有什么不好,在情感上丝毫不输,只是不能存留于世罢了。就像李白面对“蜀道之难,难于上青天”,开篇也是三个叹词,“噫吁嚱!” 难能可贵的是“共情”,不是“诗”。因此,诗、语言、文字的宝贵之处其实在于它们精准的保留了感情,让我们在人生代代无穷已的恐慌中,了解到或许这个世界上没有什么感情是其他人没有经历过的。一切的情感都是有原因的。一切的情感都是有同伴的。滟滟随波千万里,何处春江无月明。



遥夜亭皋闲信步,乍过清明,早觉伤春暮。数点雨声风约住,朦胧淡月云来去。 桃李依依春黯度,谁在秋千,笑里低低语。一片芳心千万绪,人间没个安排处。


帘外雨潺潺,春意阑珊,罗衾不耐五更寒。梦里不知身是客,一晌贪欢。  独自莫凭栏,无限江山,别时容易见时难。流水落花春去也,天上人间。





C.S. Lewis也曾经描述过这种怅惘,

“谈说这份对自己那方遥远国度的渴欲,甚至你我此刻心中即能找到的这份渴欲,我感到有些情怯,甚至有些下作。因为,我是在试图揭开各位心中的那桩难以平抚的秘密——这桩秘密深深刺痛了你,以致你出于报复,称其为乡愁、浪漫情愫或少年意气。这一秘密,既令人心碎又令人心醉,以至于每次贴心对谈之中,正当呼之欲出,我们又吞吞吐吐,不禁哑然失笑。我们说也不是藏也不是,尽管我们既想说出又想隐藏。无法说出,因为它是对从未出现于我等经验之中的某种事物之渴欲;无法隐藏,则因为我们的经验不时暗示它,我们就像个恋人,一提到某个名字,便没法若无其事。最为常见的权宜之计就是,称它为“美”,以为这样就有了个了断。华兹华斯(Wordsworth)的权宜之计是,把它等同于自己过去的某些时光。这一切,都是自欺欺人。就算华兹华斯真的回到了过去的那些时光,他找到的也不是事情本身,而只是其提示物;他所记住的,到头来本身还只是桩记忆。我们以为美就在其中的那些书籍或音乐,一旦信靠它们,也会辜负我们;它不在它们之中,只是经由它们,它们给我们带来的是对它的憧憬。这些事物——美,自己过去之回忆——是我们所真正渴欲之物的好意象;假如它们被误认为是事情本身,它们就会变成又聋又哑的偶像,令其崇拜者心碎。因为它们并非事情本身;它们仅仅是我们还未见过的花的香气,从未听过的曲调的回响,是我们从未造访过的国度传来的消息。” (邓海军译)


We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear

We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near

We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love

As if every promise from Your word is not enough

And all the while, You hear each desperate plea

And long that we’d have faith to believe

‘Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops

What if Your healing comes through tears

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near

What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us

When darkness seems to win

We know that pain reminds this heart

That this is not,

This is not our home

It’s not our home

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Posted by on December 27, 2017 in Uncategorized