What kind of life do you envision?

    If there is an afterlife, I want to be a tree, standing eternally, without a sorrowful posture. Half of me rests peacefully in the dust, half of me soars in the air; half of me casts shade, half of me bathes in sunlight. Utterly silent, serene, utterly self-satisfied, never dependent, never seeking. At midnight, I'll be waiting for you in my youth. I'm NJ Nuomi.

    This world always seems infinitely vast one moment and infinitely small the next.

    Some articles and posts tell us that we must take advantage of our youth to travel more, whether it's budget travel or a year-end break, we must go out, read ten thousand books and travel ten thousand miles. Who knows, we might experience a breathtaking adventure on our journey, or perhaps find love around the corner, or even just have a fling around the corner.

    With the development of communication networks, everyone has discovered that the world is so big, and we must go out to make this life worthwhile. We've also discovered that transportation is so convenient, and we wish we could step into Antarctica in one go.

    And so, many people around me are saying they want to go on a year-end break, and many are saying they want to go on budget travel.

    They say this is what life is all about; you can't stay cooped up in one place forever.

    They also say this is what makes life meaningful, isn't it?

    I agree, it's meaningful. No matter how you look at it, going out to see the world and learn more about people is a very interesting thing. I just feel a little worried for them. What if they don't encounter any extraordinary adventures or true love like those described in the posts? Would they be very disappointed?

    Isn't there a popular saying, "Life is elsewhere"?

    A few years ago, I had the good fortune, or perhaps the bad fortune, to attend an IELTS class—a very short intensive course. After going there, I discovered that the educational institution didn't have the renowned teachers advertised in the posters; instead, they hired summer temporary workers.

    Although they were temporary workers, they were all very good at English. Some of them were students who had returned from studying abroad, and our class was taught by one such Chinese-American.

    I've forgotten her name, but I remember her eyes, painted with blue eyeshadow, blinking constantly when she spoke, like fluttering butterfly wings.

    The girl sitting in the front row of the classroom loved to ask her, "Teacher, when did you go to America? What's life like there?"

    She generously spent three hours telling us about her life.

    Because her parents worked in the cultural field, her family went to Italy during her elementary school years, living in the fashion capital of Milan. Then, during her middle school years, at the invitation of the French Ministry of Culture, her family went to Paris, France.

    During her high school years, her family finally settled down in the United States, became American citizens, and took the national college entrance examination. After that, she began her annual travels. Not long after her travels, her father arranged for her to return to China to attend high school, because not having taken the national college entrance examination was a lifelong regret. So, she returned to China in a very short time to start her senior year of high school and began intensive review for the exam—ultimately achieving a score above the first-tier university cutoff—but obviously, she still went back to the United States to attend university.

    Everyone was so excited that they banged on the table and shouted, "Teacher, you're so cool! That's life!"

    "Teacher, so you can speak Italian and French, right?" —I can understand but I can't speak it very well.

    Teacher, you speak four languages (Chinese, English, Italian, and French), wouldn't you have an easy time finding a job? Why come to this kind of training institution? —I'll be going back to the US to work eventually. This is just a resume I randomly submitted when I was bored back in China. I'll be back in the US around August. Finally, the teacher told us that she's not short of money. Everyone banged on the table and exclaimed, "We admire you so much!"

    Afterwards, the girl who asked the question went to buy milk tea with me. She said, "I'm so annoyed by this person. We just listened to her brag for three hours?!"

    I thought to myself, "You were the one who asked her, and now you think she's bragging. What do you want from her?

    " That girl bluntly told me, "That person is a liar!"

    At the time, I didn't think about whether she was a liar or not. I just thought that although this resume was a bit too cool, I shouldn't judge others based on my own lack of experience. Maybe she was just telling the truth.

    Last year, I had the good fortune, or perhaps the bad, of visiting another language training institution. While we were chatting over tea, I caught a glimpse of that teacher again. Although I still couldn't remember her name, I remembered her vibrant blue eyeshadow. She was still teaching at the institution. —That person is a fraud! This thought involuntarily echoed in my mind. Many philosophers try to tell us that we must cherish the present and live in the moment.

    But many more life coaches tell us that we must focus on the future, play the long game, and that a small act of impatience can ruin a great plan.

    Movies tell us that love conquers all. But many more life coaches tell us that, to be honest, you still can't live without money.

    So what kind of life should we live? And what do you think life is like?

    Is life vivid, bright, turbulent, painful, sorrowful, and restless? Is life only about what you gain from experiences?

    Does one have to constantly travel and go abroad every year to experience life?

    I watched a Japanese drama a long time ago, and there was a scene where

    the female protagonist asked her friend, "Have you heard Matsuo Bashō's famous haiku, 'Beside a quiet old pond, a frog jumps into the middle of the water with a splash'?" Why is it that only Bashō-san could write such a haiku? I can hardly believe that he's the only one in all these years who has ever heard the sound of a frog jumping into a pond!

    Since Bashō-san has already appeared, let's add another haiku: "Under the tree, on the shredded meat and vegetable soup, cherry blossom petals fall."

    I think that's what life is all about...

    Does one have to travel far and wide, experience dramatic ups and downs, to know what life is? It's hard to imagine what life is like for someone who can't hear a frog jumping into a pond or see cherry blossoms falling into vegetable soup.

    If you don't understand observation and understanding, then everywhere is equally boring.

    No matter how tempting or cool it sounds, that's not survival.

    Time must pass one day at a time, food must be eaten one bite at a time, books must be read one page at a time, and you can hear the sound of frogs jumping into the pond no matter where you are, and the cicadas chirping tirelessly in the shade of the trees on a summer afternoon.

    That's what survival is, isn't it?