爱华网系列专题：《点亮生活的智慧：人生之钥》
But then there are those who cling to an outgrown persona, because it is the only one they trust. They seem to be afraid to mature and develop; accept that each given moment offers and adds something new. What deep insecurity lies behind such fear? Was there in their past but one occasion, when they came vibrantly alive? When they felt, finally, that they were loved and valued: someone with a right to be? Whatever the reason, there is no escaping the fact that life is all about change and growth. You are now a somewhat different person from when you started reading this text. ‘No one can bathe in the same river twice. Because everything flows.’
At six years of age, stunned by grief, I left my first home, not expecting to return. In those days it was considered healthy to turn your back on pain. Never look back, but build a bright new future with whatever was at hand. I grew up with a void in my heart: an ever-present sadness that I did not understand. I thought it had always been there. Part of my constitution. Until I went back. The land between the lakes looked the same: on one side, Little Lee, frosty surface glittering in sunlight within a frame of golden reeds, streaked by long blue shadows from snow-laden trees. This was our playground in winter and summer. A haven of childhood serenity. To the north, guarded by dark forests, shrouded by purple cloud rising as the ice settled, the vast deep waters of Large Lee stretched into the unknown. Menacing, but at the same time powerful, majestic. The steep shores – forbidden ground – were dangerously attractive. Spanning these two was the space where my character formed, my picture of the world developed. It was my cradle – the cradle we never outgrow, although we often deny it. Tears filled my eyes, as the wound inside me slowly began to heal. For the first time in forty years I knew the feeling of being whole.
