paraphernalia

My generation has no religion in formal education.

Education without religion emphasizes the following: everything in the world is explainable; people are monkeys; monkeys are stones; stones are formed after an inexplicable big bang; Man conquers heaven, nothing in the world is difficult, as long as you dare to climb; The individual is small, the organization is strong, the leader is right, any inner weakness is feudalism and capitalism, feudalism is bad, capitalism is bad, socialism is good, feudalism is dead, capitalism is dead.

Growing up in the 1970s, there was no religion, and there was nothing bad about it. Children run mad between heaven and earth, do not know what fame and wealth is, learn basic common sense, eating vegetables and drinking water, deal with boring courses, silly leng to kill boring time, scold all look up to people "silly bi". Oneself near Buddha, do not need Buddha.

My first sense of religion came on a high school afternoon. Autumn light crisp, autumn clouds do not move. I was playing table tennis in a cement case. My opponent hit a forehand and it flew away. I turned and ran to retrieve it. When I picked up the ball and stood up, I looked up and saw not far away a girl practicing long-distance running back to me, holding a parallel bar with both hands, pressing the shoulder, I did not know her.

Her shoulders were low, and her straight black hair, pulled back into a ponytail, hung down with gravity, its lowest point below the highest point of her hips. Her calf gastrocnemius was stretched long, pulled out of her sweatpants and exposed near her ankles, and in response to her bare neck, she defied gravity and seemed to reach the highest point of her hips. The sun was partially obscured by clouds, and the unshaded light slanted down the edge of the clouds like gold. A gust of wind rose from nowhere, and the flag on the playground, the poplar leaves, and the girl's braid flew in one direction. At that moment, I could not see her face at all, but I deeply felt that she was a higher species, she was not created by her parents but a powerful and mysterious force, if there are no aliens, then maybe God.

The next moment, my table tennis opponent in the concrete table on the opposite side of the distant Shouting: "quick play ah, soon to class, hair what stupid ah, you ya silly bi ah."

After I joined the work force, I began to read Buddhist scriptures, especially Zen texts, in an unsystematic way. One is to add some basic Buddhist knowledge. Walking around the country, there are temples of the past dynasties and even contemporary times everywhere. What are the flowers and plants, gods and ghosts in the temples? I don't want to go blank in my mind. The second is to take the Buddha's metaphysical as a lifebuoy for the big picture, so that I don't fall into the sea of fame and wealth and never see the light of day. From time to time, turn two pages of Buddhist sutras, pull off, put on the life buoy, the upper body surfaced. The third is to digest the Zen monks' experimental results in Chinese. In exploring the possibilities of Chinese and even language, certain Tang and Song Zen monks went further and Wilder than Tang and Song poets and poets.

There are often illustrations in the Buddhist sutras, and the Buddhas in the paintings are often as fit as long-distance runners. Although they are all positive images, I know that they all have long and solid gastrocnemius muscles on the back.

I have a friend who specializes in Buddha statues. Most of them are in stone, but there are also bronze, wood and gilt bronze ones. There are very few jade ones. His business is particularly good before the Spring Festival and after the two sessions, he said. "The more guilty people are, the bigger the Buddha they buy." His shop is a small suite, one with a sofa, under the sofa is a plastic basin, plastic basin all year round a basin of sour water, sour water in a variety of Buddha. I mean, aren't you being a little down-to-earth? Sun Erniang also accidentally wrapped human finger bones in the bun, you made the sour smell in the corridor can be seen. He grinned and continued to bubble.

He knew that I collected ancient jade mainly and rarely touched Buddha statues, but he always wanted to sell me some Buddha statues. I said that I travel everywhere, on average three cities a week, the pull bar box is a real home, if I buy a replica of the copper Buddha, occupy half of the box, how to put the other things? Customs stop, if they can't tell is counterfeit, I do? He opened the safe and said, You can buy the portable Buddha.

I bought from him successively five walking Buddhas, three gilded bronze ones. He told me the names of the three Buddhas, but I did not remember them. He told me the names of the other two Buddhas, but I did not remember them either. He said that this kind of hand-made Buddha made of clay is called "Za-zah". The soft clay is pressed into the mold and fired. It is similar to making cookies and mooncakes.

One of them, Tsha-tsha, lives in my trolley. I rarely ask it to do anything specific, such as not running late on the CA981, not crashing on the five-hour highway, or getting a certain stock deal done. In the evening, I took it out of the trolley case, put it on the bed of the hotel, and worshipped it, without any thought, as if I had gone out in the morning and nodded with the sun.

It gives me some peace of mind to know that this walking Buddha is nearby, with all those wonderful unknowns that are real. Once, I said to my mother, if I die before her, my body burned into ashes, I suggest she mix the ashes with clay, burn a few "wipe", take with you, poison does not invade. My mother said, "Your mother."