There are not so many "why"

At 9 o'clock last night, I walked in a hurry on campus, and my destination was the dormitory. The temperature is a little low at night, so you can see a little white gas floating in front of your eyes when you breathe. When I arrived at a parking lot, I habitually took a look at the basketball court opposite, where several boys were practicing shooting, and occasionally a few words of laughter came. I looked around aimlessly. When I bypassed the sculpture in the middle of this clearing, I saw a man crouching under a street lamp reading a book. He looked at it very carefully. The street lamp is not very bright, because it is very old, and it is covered with some dust and insect carcasses and cobwebs, but he just stares at his book and has no feeling. A person immersed in his own world minimizes his sense of existence. Several people passed by him from time to time, but no one looked at him. Don't they find it strange? I looked around again. Yes, there is a kebab stand a few steps away from him. There is no one around, so it seems to be his. I approached him quietly, and then I got farther and farther away from him, but I kept looking back at him.

I think of my high school. When I was in senior three, my mother came to rent a house near the school to accompany me. I live a life of two points and one line, which means I have to walk several times a day between school and renting a house. I didn't pay attention at first, but later, under the reminder of my friend, I noticed something unusual on the roadside. Every day there is a scooter at a fixed place on the roadside, which is full of fruit. The boss next to him is an uncle in his forties, unshaven, ordinary, ordinary and even humble. But he always reads a thick book like a brick every day. After reading one, he will change to the next one. Not a day goes by when you see his hands are empty. I began to sneer at it. Maybe it's just those obscene things that some people like to see. Later, I peeked at it curiously and found that all the martial arts novels were written by Jinlong, which surprised me a little. I'm afraid to talk to him, but there are always some children who are brave. The people next to him sometimes laugh at him, and sometimes I see his wife laughing at him with the people next to him. She is not doing business seriously, but it is useless to read some messy books here. The family is not very rich, buying some fruits does not attract customers, and business is not good. He didn't say anything, just smiled and bowed his head. The proprietress seems to be used to his attitude, and after venting, she went into a teahouse to play mahjong.

My little sister, who lives next door to me, likes painting since she was a child. At first, she began to draw with the lines of some characters drawn in the book, which was very good. Later, she studied watercolor painting at school and begged her family to buy her brushes and pigments. My mother saw that she liked it and added a drawing board to her. In addition to learning to paint there every day, of course, her paintings are getting better and better. Sometimes when guests come to her house, her father will show them to those people specially. People will praise her talent. Later, she proposed to learn painting, which is the kind of interest class. She thought her father would be happy to promise her. Unexpectedly, her father severely criticized her, saying that painting can't be eaten as a meal, and going to school is the only way out. Painting as an interest is no problem. She was sad, but she dared not disobey her father. Later, although painting, but the academic pressure is getting bigger and bigger, painting time is getting less and less. Of course, she was admitted to a good university, but she stopped painting.

I want to say that since we are sensible, it seems that everything we do is to give a result. There is no result, there is no need to start. If you start learning to cook, people will say, well, do you want to be a chef? If you write something boring, people will be curious: Do you want to write in the future? If you start to be interested in painting, alas, do you want to be a painter? If you take part in any competition, it must be to compete with others for the first prize or the first prize. If you deny these purposes, people will not think that you are sincere, but that you are pretending to be modest, but in fact you are hypocritical. However, there are so many things in the world, why are there so many? Are you tired? I want to do it, and I like it. Doesn't that constitute a reason? I want to try to cook by myself and taste the taste of my own food, which makes me feel happy; I want to record my feelings and feelings because it makes me feel calm; I want to learn painting. I don't care how delicate the strokes and brushwork are. I only care about expressing what I like. I take part in the competition, I enjoy this tense atmosphere and busy state, and I don't care about the result. Aren't these reasons enough?

If everything is clear about this purpose, what's the point? There will be no surprises and discoveries in life, and there will be no positive state and joy, because if you achieve your so-called goal, you will feel natural and safe to achieve a goal. If it doesn't come true, you will only have regret and jealousy. The former will make you feel calm at most, while the latter will only make you feel depressed. Are these the realms we want to pursue? Some people don't even care about their intermediate state between "beginning" and "result". What they see is the gap between "purpose" and "result". If there is a deficit between them, they will be ecstatic. If there is surplus, they are heartbroken and annoyed. Isn't it that what they saw, the difficulties they experienced, and the moment they crossed the difficulties are not comparable to the final result? Of course, all this can't be entirely blamed on these parties, but more often it is those onlookers who are booing. Take the college entrance examination as an example. If a child is admitted to a prestigious school, people there praise how smart the child is and how hard he studies, so if he falls into Sun Shan, others will say that the child must have gone in love, and then he didn't study hard and got into a fight online. But how do you know that he won't study late into the night like those so-called high flyers and think for hours like an old monk? Such a faint university admission notice denied their efforts for many years, and their sweat and tears were seen by several people. So it is not hard to imagine why those children who don't go to college hate books and don't want to study, because no one sees their efforts, or their efforts are not appreciated by everyone.

The uncle who sells barbecue reads a book in the light. Do you think he has a clear purpose? Does he want to go to college? Or become a writer? He just likes reading, and he enjoys the process. Reading brings him comfort, setting up a stall on the roadside late at night, business is bleak and lonely, and books bring him happiness. The uncle who sells fruit is a martial arts student. Does he want to be like Jin Yong? He likes to immerse himself in the martial arts atmosphere, which is different from Mr. Wang Zongchao, the founder of Fengbozhuang. Mr. Wang has been obsessed with martial arts books since childhood. Did he think of opening a martial arts school from the beginning? My little sister wants to learn to draw, for the purpose of liking it. She insisted on her love, but her father thought she wanted to be a painter and give up studying, so she adopted a strict prohibition strategy. But this paternalistic "good for children" leads to children's resistance and hatred. My sister later told me that she would never touch the brush again, except for studying, which was not allowed anyway. This is the tragedy of "Saibi and Gourd". Some things are not so much for what, for what. Do what you want. The process is far better than the purpose. That's all I want to say.