Constraints are for flying higher

    While idly watching a public service advertisement on CCTV-12, I saw a little girl flying a kite, holding a long string as it soared higher and higher. The voiceover said: "Restraint is for flying higher!"

    This poetic scene easily touched my heart and stirred my thoughts. Life isn't just about childhood; where is there no unexpected constraint? Who hasn't been bound by the tangible and intangible constraints of life? Whether it's reason and morality, or how to conduct oneself, there's an inherent constraint within us, telling us the principles of "doing." What is permissible and what is not is more a reflection of social civilization and the essence of humanistic qualities.

    I remembered that my child went to stay with his maternal grandmother for a couple of days, leaving me alone at home, extremely bored, so I turned on the TV. It turns out that the little one I always complained about actually enriches my life. I really wanted to call, but I put down my phone, not wanting him to know how dependent I've become on him. I didn't want him to take advantage of my love and constantly "threaten" me.

    This afternoon, I had to discipline him a little for his English homework and his performance in English class. It was only two spankings, but thinking back on it now fills me with remorse. Because I love him, that punishment hurt me even more than it did him. Just now, while taking my medicine, I unexpectedly remembered how he always pours me water or reminds me repeatedly when it's time to take my medicine. In life, I'm a very careless person; I generally don't pay much attention to big or small things, except for being a little more attentive to my child. He'll pour me water, get my medicine, and massage my back, but only if I repeatedly beg him to be gentle. If he really used his strength, I wouldn't be a match for him. So every time I ask him to massage my shoulders and bones, I have to repeatedly tell him to use only a little force. My little one, I don't know when he grew up; in a few years, he'll be able to support me.

    I miss him. I think of the smiling look in his eyes when he looked at me, the tearful glance he gave me when I scolded him, the cheeky way he begged me to sleep with him at night, the "annoying" way he pleaded with me to say "no"...

    The night is long. Long enough that a moment of sadness washes over me when I think of him. He's already eight years old without me realizing it. He understands so much about me, and he's also deliberately provoked me a lot. From a child's perspective, all these good and bad moments seem insignificant. It's just that I'm so tired. These years of hardship, the worries about everything, big and small, have eroded my femininity, and unintentionally fostered my strong personality. Afraid he won't be able to discipline me in the future, I usually treat him seriously. Even with deep affection, I only secretly kiss his little face when he's asleep.

    I've given so much for him. Most of the time it's willingly, but sometimes it's not without resentment. This comes from the bottom of my heart. Because when I'm sad or facing difficulties in life, his lack of understanding and his burdens make me annoyed, even though I still love him. I'm human too, just a woman who's become a mother. Life has washed away my gentleness, leaving only roughness and carelessness. How much does he really know about me?

    I strive to live. For him, more so! You could say he's become my driving force in life. If I were alone, I'd be content with simple meals, but with him around, I dare not slack off, dare not have unrealistic desires, don't even want to look at clothes I like—I'm afraid I haven't been a good mother, even though I am no longer one. But I've always tried my best. I suppose, even he, so young, understands a little of my sacrifices; he's not heartless or ignorant.

    What's the dilemma of being a single mother? On one hand, I want my child to be magnanimous, to have a manly demeanor from a young age, not petty or calculating over trivial matters; on the other hand, I don't want him to cause trouble, be extravagant, or wasteful. This complex mix of emotions is something even I, the child, often find myself caught in the middle, unsure of what to do.

    A friend once told me: "Children need to be disciplined; you can't let them run wild." He said he had hit his child, a bit too hard, then applied medicine, and still regretted it. I completely understand his feelings, deeply empathize with them, because I feel the same way. The educational philosophies of China over thousands of years are not contradictory to today's appreciation-based education. It depends on the situation. It's necessary for children to loosen their muscles a little, otherwise they really will "behave like dogs for three days straight."

    Unconsciously, there are many constraints on children. For example, in terms of manners, daily life details, hygiene, and studies... These so-called external factors are all established conventions of life, necessary habits, or actions that lay the foundation for the future. In my opinion, doing whatever one pleases can only ever be a dream. If that were truly achieved, society would become irregular, and there would be many disputes. Everyone is for themselves; how can the world be peaceful? In the broader context of life, constraints are not limited to children; adults are also subject to constraints.

    Appropriate constraints are a kind of unspoken social rule, a macro-level, unintentional adjustment automatically generated by a stable society. Just as monogamy is the norm in China at this stage, just as passing the college entrance examination is a necessary procedural test, just as the ancient folk customs of respecting the elderly and caring for the young are prevalent, just as the most common rules of conduct...

    In fact, education has no fixed model, nor does life. What is suitable may be the best. Different societies and different times will have different standards of constraint. Keeping up with the times is good, but there are prerequisites: beauty, goodness, and filial piety come first. Although it is not "deeply detached from desires and cultivating pure wisdom and celibacy," it is still well understood that "planting trees requires diligent watering, appreciating flowers requires loving them." You reap what you sow.

    As human beings, every age and stage of life, like the flowers of the four seasons, has constraints. If you are a forsythia, then stay peacefully in spring; if you are a lotus, then automatically go to your beloved summer; if you are a chrysanthemum, then smile and accompany the autumn frost and dew; if you are a plum blossom, then marry the snow-covered winter! This is the constraint of the seasons, and also the constraint of life! If you adapt to the benefits and avoid the sharp edges, you will naturally benefit immensely.

    Of course, upon reflection, one realizes that "restraint is indeed for the sake of soaring higher!" This is a universal truth.