Sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, gathering the spirit, meditating hard or thinking of nothing at all.—That doesn’t really suit me; I can’t sit still for very long.
I like daydreaming. What is called daydreaming, unlike sitting in meditation, often involves staring fixedly at something. Staring at things that are at once moving and still.
For example, staring at stars (stars are not motionless—they blink!), rain, water in a lake, grass, and trees.
In Beijing there are very few stars and rain, so I like to stare at the wind and daydream.
The wind is invisible, but the grass and trees that move with it can be seen.
Stand under a big tree, look up at the branches swaying, look down at the flickering light and shadow, and you can stay in a daze for a long time.
When daydreaming, you can think about anything, or think about nothing at all.
Or both be thinking of something and yet be thinking of nothing.
Just looking, yet not looking at anything.
It seems as if you have grasped something, but you can’t put it into words.
Latest Comments
UNIC
2007-05-25 16:07:49 Anonymous 222.82.226.29 [Reply]
Hehe…
I’ve always liked daydreaming, thinking about something or thinking about nothing at all. I also ask myself: why do I so often drift into a daze? Thinking it over, perhaps it is to intensify a sense of self-perception. For now I don’t want to probe too deeply into it.
I remember that Lu Xun has an essay, apparently collected in 《且介亭杂文末编》 or 《坟》, called “This Too Is Life” (《这也是生活》). What the article describes is Lu Xun’s feelings during his later years when he was seriously ill—he would often lie in bed, and sometimes felt that looking at the living environment around him and drifting off into a daze was also a kind of need, and also a kind of life…
I’ve always liked daydreaming, thinking about something or thinking about nothing at all. I also ask myself: why do I so often drift into a daze? Thinking it over, perhaps it is to intensify a sense of self-perception. For now I don’t want to probe too deeply into it.
I remember that Lu Xun has an essay, apparently collected in 《且介亭杂文末编》 or 《坟》, called “This Too Is Life” (《这也是生活》). What the article describes is Lu Xun’s feelings during his later years when he was seriously ill—he would often lie in bed, and sometimes felt that looking at the living environment around him and drifting off into a daze was also a kind of need, and also a kind of life…
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
Leave a Reply