一个普通人的世界观

 编者：爱因斯坦的“我的世界观”，到今年刚好90年。作为对比，颇有趣。

生命的意义：人生有意义吗？或者再进一步，所有有机生物的生命？我认为生命本身是没什么意义的。漫长的进化，从单细胞到多细胞，从植物到动物，生命在利用能源的过程中，为了更好的适应环境，而对自己不断改造，最终成就了人类。和非洲大草原上奔腾的角马一样，人类的生命于这个世界，是没有什么意义的。人们从出生到死亡，在这世上匆匆忙忙的走上一遭，感知到属于自己的喜乐，该离开的时候，不管是不是情愿，也都一定要“不带走一片云彩“的随风而去。如果一定说有什么意义的话，就是给亲人带来爱，给后代留下一个更好的世界。

我的世界观：寿命有限这个事实，对人类而言是不幸，也是幸运。不幸容易理解，生离死别，是人生最大的痛苦。而幸运则是指人类不会面对着永久的虚空而无聊。所有的逝去，和所有的将来，让人类对这个世界始终保持着好奇。让人们在“逝者如斯“的紧迫下，不断去探索，去经历，去发现，去惊讶，去生活。只有体会到了告别的不舍，才会明白拥有的可贵。我们为自己，为自己所爱的人，努力的生活。这世上的每一分钟都是宝贵的。

从哲学角度来讲，我认为人类是自由的。叔本华说，“人的行为由意念支配，而意念却不受人支配“。但是，人类的意念不是凭空而来，而是人为了应对环境的挑战而做出的回应。饿了我们要吃东西，冷了我们要穿衣服。人类的意念，或者欲望，让人类能够生存下来，从根本上来说是为人服务的。更重要的一点，人类的意念并不是被强加的。人生于天地之间，随念而动，随感而发。从这个角度来讲，人是自由的。我因为这一点，尊重人类，和世间所有自由的物种。

对于社会，我认为每个人都有责任。这和人类的自由是密切相关的。因为每个人都想过自由的生活，所以除非这世间只剩下一个人，那么自由就有边界。人类社会因为人类的协作而存在，所以在人类社会里生活的人们，就必须学会如何与他人相处，由此也就产生了社会的规则。简单的说，规则就是个人自由的边界。任何人的自由，都不能建立在践踏他人的自由之上。

对于社会的政治制度，我赞成民主。引用丘吉尔的那句名言，“民主是最不坏的制度“。大家提出自己的主张，谁能说服选民，就能得到更多的选票。且不说这个制度带来的大众讨论和参与，单单是摆脱了历史上的起义，政变和革命，就已经是巨大的进步。当然它有自己的缺点，但是说它是现在所有选择中，”最不坏“的制度，这一点就比独裁制度要好。

我反对战争，我也不喜欢群体生活。但是我尊重军人的付出。因为只有和平，才能带来幸福的生活。而不幸的是，人类这个物种有很强的欲望，每个人都想要更多的财富，更多的权力，更多的名望…，而这个世界的资源有限，所以过多的欲望不可避免的会带来冲突，也就不可避免的会带来战争。既然人类目前的智慧还无法消灭战争，那么保护自己所爱的人不受战争的摧残，就是军人的职责。虽然我反对战争，但是如果有人要剥夺我的自由，奴役我的家人，我会毫不犹豫的拿起武器。

再说说科学吧。科学有尽头吗？我认为没有。打个比方，人类掌握的知识总量如果是一个圆圈，那么人类掌握的知识越多，圆圈就越大，随着圆圈的增长，圆圈的边界也就越大，而未知也就越多，因为圆圈外面就是未知。毋庸置疑，人类会不断的进步。但是置于无穷的时间和空间之中，人类永远都是渺小的。

相比于宇宙之浩瀚，人类就如同沧海一粟。我们能够存在于这个星球已是奇迹，而你我又能仰望苍穹，思考人生之意义，何其幸也！我们来于偶然，去于必然。这若梦的浮生，每个人都会按照自己的自由意志，走完属于自己的人生道路。每个人都是自己生活的拥有者和评判者。对于我个人来说，过好自己的生活，并尽力让我周围的人感到温暖，这就是我生命的意义。

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The worldview of an ordinary people

The Meaning of Life

Does life have meaning? Or, to go further, does the life of all organic beings have meaning? I believe that life itself has no inherent meaning. Through the long process of evolution, from single-celled organisms to multicellular life, from plants to animals, life has continually reshaped itself to make better the use of energy, to better adapt to its environment, eventually giving rise to humankind. Like the wildebeest galloping across the African savanna, human life, in relation to the world, has no intrinsic meaning.

From birth to death, people journey through this world, experiencing joys and sorrows that belong only to themselves. At sunset, we will wave goodbye to the world, taking with us our memories and regrets, leaving behind only personal traces and attachments—which, with the passage of time, will also fade away. When it is time to leave, whether willing or not, one must depart “without taking a single wisp of cloud”, and drift away with the wind. If we must speak of meaning at all, it lies in bringing love to one’s family and leaving a better world for future generations. (Or perhaps everyone may endow their own life with a meaning unique to themselves. No one, however, is qualified to judge the life of another.)

My worldview

The fact that human life is finite is both a misfortune and a blessing. The misfortune is easy to understand: separation by life and death is the greatest pain in human existence. The blessing lies in the fact that humanity does not have to face eternal emptiness and boredom. All that has passed, and all that is yet to come, keeps humans forever curious about the world. Under the urgency of “time waits nobody,” people are forever eager to explore, to experience, to discover, to be amazed, and to live the life to its fullest. Only by feeling the reluctance of farewell can we truly understand the value of what we have. We live and strive for ourselves and for those we love. Every minute in this world is precious.

From a philosophical perspective, I believe that human beings are free. Arthur Schopenhauer once said, “Man can do what he wills, but he cannot will what he wills.” Yet human will does not arise out of nothing; it is a response to the challenges posed by the environment. When we feel hungry, we eat; when we are cold, we put on clothes. Human’s will, or desire, enables our survival and, at its core, serves human life. More importantly, human’s will is not imposed from outside. To live on this planet, we act according to our thoughts and respond to our sensations. From this perspective, humans are free. For this reason, I respect humanity, as well as all free species in the world.

 

On society

I believe that everyone bears responsibility for society. This is closely tied to human freedom. Because if everyone wishes to live freely, then individual freedom must have boundaries, unless there were only one person left in the world. Human society exists because of cooperation, and those who live within it must learn how to coexist with others. From this arise social rules. Simply put, rules are the boundaries of individual freedom. No one’s freedom can be built upon the trampling of another’s freedom.

 

On political systems

I support democracy. To quote Churchill’s famous remark, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.” People put forward their views, and those who persuade more voters win more votes. Leaving aside the public discussion and participation this system encourages, the mere fact that it spares societies from the uprisings, coups, and revolutions already represents tremendous progress. Of course, democracy is not void of flaws, but as the “least bad” among all existing options already makes it superior to dictatorship, which is the worst, in my opinion.

 

On war and peace

I oppose war, and I do not favor collective life, yet I respect the sacrifices of soldiers. Only peace can bring a happy life. Unfortunately, human beings are a species with strong desires: everyone wants more wealth, more power, more fame. The world’s resources are limited, and excessive desire inevitably leads to conflict, and thus to war. Since human wisdom has not yet been able to eliminate war, protecting the people one loves from its devastation becomes the duty of soldiers. Though I oppose war, if someone were to strip me of my freedom or enslave my family, I would not hesitate to take up arms.

 

On science

Does science have an endpoint? I believe it does not. Imagine that the total body of human knowledge is a circle. As knowledge expands, the circle grows larger—and with it, its boundary. The larger the boundary, the greater the unknown beyond it, for outside the circle lies the unknown. Without question, humanity will continue to make progress. Yet set against the infinite time and space, humanity will always remain insignificant.

Compared with the vastness of the universe, humanity is but a drop in the ocean. That we can exist on this planet at all is already a miracle, and that you and I can gaze at the heavens and contemplate the meaning of life is an even greater fortune. Our coming into the world is accidental, and our departure is inevitable. In this dreamlike, fleeting existence, each person, guided by their free will, will walk their own path through life. Everyone is the owner and the judge of their own life. As for me, to live my life well and to do my best to bring warmth to those around me—that is the meaning of my life.

我的世界观

 编者：这篇文章首次发表于1934年，那一年爱因斯坦55岁。每个人对这个世界都有自己独特的看法，但不是每个人都有机会把自己的世界观公开发表出来。其实这样一篇文章不需要很长的篇幅，也不一定是成名成家的人物，才有资格谈论自己的世界观。在互联网普及的今天，也许会看到更多人的世界观。很久之前读过中译本，总觉有些拗口，自己重新翻译，和原文记于此。

生命的意义：人生有意义吗？或者再进一步，所有有机生物的生命？要回答这个问题，就会涉及宗教。那么也许你会问，干嘛要问这个问题？我的回答是，如果一个人认为自己和其他人类的生命没有任何意义，那么对于他自己就不仅仅是不幸那么简单了，而是根本不合适成为一个生命。

我的世界观：作为一个寿命有限的物种，我们的处境多奇特啊！我们每一个人都在这世上匆匆忙忙地走一遭。为了什么？没人知道。虽然有的时候，会感觉到一种使命感。如果只从日常生活，不做深究的话，我们是为了周围的人而活。首先是为了熟人的笑脸和健康，这是我们快乐的源泉。然后呢，是为了社会上其他我们并不熟识的人，我们之间的命运通过相互同情而维系。每天我都无数次的提醒自己，我的生活里里外外都依赖于其他人的工作，甚至包括那些已经故去的人。所以我必须尽我所能回馈我所享受的，从过去到现在。我崇尚简单生活，为自己占据了太多其他人的劳动而惴惴不安。我认为阶级的划分并不公平，说到底是基于权力。我还认为简单的生活有益于每一个人的身心。

从哲学角度来讲，我不相信人类是自由的。每个人的行为，既来自于外界的驱使，也来自于内心的需求。叔本华的那句，“人的行为由意念支配，而意念却不受人支配”，一直让我深受启发，并在我面对艰难世事的时候，给我不尽的安慰，也是我耐心的源泉。幸好有了这种感觉，才消减了那种很容易让人感到无力的责任感，也让人们不至于太把自己和别人当回事儿。毕竟生活中需要一些幽默。

从主观的角度，质询人生的意义或者目的，对于我来说有些荒诞。毕竟每个人对自己的努力和判断，都有自己的理想。从这个意义讲，我从来不认为从容和喜乐是最终目的，这种目的对一群猪更合适。在我的人生旅途之中，不时鞭策着我，给我乐观面对生活的勇气的，是“真，善，美”。如果没有志同道合的人的陪伴，没有对目标的坚守，没有在艺术和科学领域无尽的求索，人生于我没有任何意义。通常他人努力追求的东西，比如财产，成功和奢侈，我视之如粪土。

我对社会公正和社会责任富有激情，这和我明显与他人和社群保持距离的态度，是一个奇怪的反差。我特立独行，打心眼儿里就从来不觉得我属于自己的祖国，自己的家，自己的朋友，或者自己的亲人。我从来都漠视这些羁绊，独处的需求与日俱增。或许有人清楚的知道，与他人达成共识和共情的可能性是有限的。这没什么可遗憾的。这样的人无疑会缺少一些亲和力，心态也不会轻松，但是另一方面，他大多不会太在意别人的意见，习惯和看法，会避免这些不稳定的因素影响自己的立场。

我的政治理想是民主。每个人都有尊严，而不崇拜任何人。虽然有些讽刺的是，我本人就接受了过度的称赞和钦佩。此事非本人之功，亦非本人之过。大概是源于本人尽自己虽绵薄但不懈之努力所提出的一两个理论，理解这些理论超出了很多人的能力范围，但是大家都渴望了解更多。一个复杂组织的顺利运作，往往需要组织的首脑来做规划和指导，当然也承担责任。但是领导力是不可强加于人的，大家必须能够选择自己的领导人。一个基于高压政治的独裁系统，在我看来，必不长久。因为暴力旗帜下所聚集的必是无德之人，天才的暴君也会被无赖所继承，我相信这是铁律。基于这个原因，我强烈反对我们今天在意大利和俄罗斯所看到的制度。今天欧洲的主流民主制度所遭到的诟病，并不是源于民主本身，而是源于政府首脑缺乏稳定性和缺少个人色彩的选举制度。我认为关于民主制度，美国的做法是正确的。他们的总统是能够负责的职位，总统有足够长的任期和足够的权力，去做到真正的负责。不过从另一个方面来讲，我们的政治制度的价值在于它能够给予病患或者需要的人更广泛的帮助。依我看来，人生这场盛宴，真正宝贵的不是什么国家，而是每一个富有创造力，有感知的个人，个性鲜明的个人。只有个人，才能创造出高贵和高尚。而群体，于思想于情感，都是愚钝的。

由此让我想到了群体性最糟糕的体现，就是我所憎恶的军队体系。如果一个人能够在军乐队的伴奏中，在队列式的行进中找到快乐，那就足以让我鄙视了。他拥有大脑都是一个错误，给他一个脊椎就够了。这个文明的灾祸应该被尽快铲除。命令下产生的英雄主义，无意义的暴行，以及所有的令人厌恶的荒唐，这些都以爱国之名 --- 我痛恨所有这些！对于我来说，战争是一个恶毒而可鄙的东西，我宁愿粉身碎骨也绝不参与这种可憎之事。尽管如此，我对人类的敬意让我相信，如果不是因为国家的心智被商业和政治利益通过学校和传媒被系统的腐化了，战争早就应该被扫进历史的垃圾堆了。

我们所能经历的最奇妙的莫过于神秘了吧？它是在真正的艺术和科学摇篮边，最朴素的情感。如果一个人不知道神秘，不能感到好奇，不再会感叹，那么他和死了也没什么两样，一只熄灭的蜡烛罢了。正是这种神秘的感觉，哪怕或许参杂着恐惧，孕育出了宗教。要知道某些存在是我们无法了解的，是最深奥的原因的表象，是最绚烂的美丽，这些都只能以最基本的形式被我们的理智所触及。这种认知和这种情绪，构成了真正的宗教态度。从这个角度，也只从这个角度，我是一个虔诚的教徒。我无法设想一个能够奖赏或者惩罚他所创之生命的造物主，也无法设想一个与我们自己的认知有相似欲望的神。我无法理解一个人身体死亡之后还能存在，我也不希望如此。那些软弱的灵魂，出于恐惧和无聊的自我意识，才会有这些想法。对于我来说，永恒生命的神秘，现实结构的神奇，专心探索去了解哪怕是微不足道的一部分，这些对我已经足够了。

The Meaning of Life 

What is the meaning of human life, or of organic life altogether? To answer this question at all implies a religion. Is there any sense then, you ask, in putting it? I answer, the man who regards his own life and that of his fellow-creatures as meaningless is not merely unfortunate but almost disqualified for life. 

The World as I see it 

What an extraordinary situation is that of us mortals! Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he sometimes thinks he feels it. But from the point of view of daily life, without going deeper, we exist for our fellow-men--in the first place for those on whose smiles and welfare all our happiness depends, and next for all those unknown to us personally with whose destinies we are bound up by the tie of sympathy. A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life depend on the labours of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving. I am strongly drawn to the simple life and am often oppressed by the feeling that I am engrossing an unnecessary amount of the labour of my fellow-men. I regard class differences as contrary to justice and, in the last resort, based on force. I also consider that plain living is good for everybody, physically and mentally. 

In human freedom in the philosophical sense I am definitely a disbeliever. Everybody acts not only under external compulsion but also in accordance with inner necessity. Schopenhauer's saying, that "a man can do as he will, but not will as he will," has been an inspiration to me since my youth up, and a continual consolation and unfailing well-spring of patience in the face of the hardships of life, my own and others'. This feeling mercifully mitigates the sense of responsibility which so easily becomes paralysing, and it prevents us from taking ourselves and other people too seriously; it conduces to a view of life in which humour, above all, has its due place.

To inquire after the meaning or object of one's own existence or of creation generally has always seemed to me absurd from an objective point of view. And yet everybody has certain ideals which determine the direction of his endeavours and his judgments. In this sense I have never looked upon ease and happiness as ends in themselves--such an ethical basis I call more proper for a herd of swine. The ideals which have lighted me on my way and time after time given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. Without the sense of fellowship with men of like mind, of preoccupation with the objective, the eternally unattainable in the field of art and scientific research, life would have seemed to me empty. The ordinary objects of human endeavour--property, outward success, luxury--have always seemed to me contemptible. 

My passionate sense of social justice and social responsibility has always contrasted oddly with my pronounced freedom from the need for direct contact with other human beings and human communities. I gang my own gait and have never belonged to my country, my home, my friends, or even my immediate family, with my whole heart; in the face of all these ties I have never lost an obstinate sense of detachment, of the need for solitude--a feeling which increases with the years. One is sharply conscious, yet without regret, of the limits to the possibility of mutual understanding and sympathy with one's fellow-creatures. Such a person no doubt loses something in the way of geniality and light-heartedness ; on the other hand, he is largely independent of the opinions, habits, and judgments of his fellows and avoids the temptation to take his stand on such insecure foundations. 

My political ideal is that of democracy. Let every man be respected as an individual and no man idolized. It is an irony of fate that I myself have been the recipient of excessive admiration and respect from my fellows through no fault, and no merit, of my own. The cause of this may well be the desire, unattainable for many, to understand the one or two ideas to which I have with my feeble powers attained through ceaseless struggle. I am quite aware that it is necessary for the success of any complex undertaking that one man should do the thinking and directing and in general bear the responsibility. But the led must not be compelled, they must be able to choose their leader. An autocratic system of coercion, in my opinion, soon degenerates. For force always attracts men of low morality, and I believe it to be an invariable rule that tyrants of genius are succeeded by scoundrels. For this reason I have always been passionately opposed to systems such as we see in Italy and Russia to-day. The thing that has brought discredit upon the prevailing form of democracy in Europe to-day is not to be laid to the door of the democratic idea as such, but to lack of stability on the part of the heads of governments and to the impersonal character of the electoral system. I believe that in this respect the United States of America have found the right way. They have a responsible President who is elected for a sufficiently long period and has sufficient powers to be really responsible. On the other hand, what I value in our political system is the more extensive provision that it makes for the individual in case of illness or need. The really valuable thing in the pageant of human life seems to me not the State but the creative, sentient individual, the personality; it alone creates the noble and the sublime, while the herd as such remains dull in thought and dull in feeling. 

This topic brings me to that worst outcrop of the herd nature, the military system, which I abhor. That a man can take pleasure in marching in formation to the strains of a band is enough to make me despise him. He has only been given his big brain by mistake; a backbone was all he needed. This plague-spot of civilization ought to be abolished with all possible speed. Heroism by order, senseless violence, and all the pestilent nonsense that does by the name of patriotism--how I hate them! War seems to me a mean, contemptible thing: I would rather be hacked in pieces than take part in such an abominable business. And yet so high, in spite of everything, is my opinion of the human race that I believe this bogey would have disappeared long ago, had the sound sense of the nations not been systematically corrupted by commercial and political interests acting through the schools and the Press. 

The fairest thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science. He who knows it not and can no longer wonder, no longer feel amazement, is as good as dead, a snuffed-out candle. It was the experience of mystery--even if mixed with fear--that engendered religion. A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, of the manifestations of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which are only accessible to our reason in their most elementary forms--it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute the truly religious attitude; in this sense, and in this alone, I am a deeply religious man. I cannot conceive of a God who rewards and punishes his creatures, or has a will of the type of which we are conscious in ourselves. An individual who should survive his physical death is also beyond my comprehension, nor do I wish it otherwise; such notions are for the fears or absurd egoism of feeble souls. Enough for me the mystery of the eternity of life, and the inkling of the marvellous structure of reality, together with the single-hearted endeavour to comprehend a portion, be it never so tiny, of the reason that manifests itself in nature

My 15-Year-Old Daughter Died. I Recently Found A Box Of Hers — And What Was Inside Left Me Shaken.

 From editor: isn't every child a treasure?

Ana at age 5, on her first day of kindergarten. Courtesy of Jacqueline Dooley

When my daughter Ana was 11, she was diagnosed with a rare cancer called inflammatory myofibroblastic tumor (IMT). Five years later, on March 22, 2017, Ana died from her disease.

In those first months after Ana died, grief manifested as an ache in my chest and an inability to do much more than sit in my yard and watch the birds at my feeders. I stopped working for about six months, outsourcing my freelance marketing projects to subcontractors while I moved through life in a daze.

As each year passes, my grief shifts and changes. It never fades. It’s just... different. For me, surviving grief requires adaptation. It’s taken me a long time, but I’m finally OK with not hanging on to every single memory, ritual and symbol that reminds me of Ana.

As I approach the seventh anniversary of losing Ana, I don’t need or want to keep retelling the story of her death. I want to remember her life and the unique things that made Ana, well... Ana. There’s one memory, in particular, that is still sharp and clear in my mind — Ana’s imaginary world. She called it Arkomo.

Ana loved tiny things. She collected them like treasure : Minuscule stuffed animals. Shells that fit into the palm of her hand. The world’s smallest plastic frog.

When she was a toddler, Ana would gather her collection of toys into a huge pile in the center of the living room and throw a major tantrum if I tried to clean it up. She would sit and play beside the pile until, inevitably, she got tired. Then she’d curl up on some stuffed animals and take a nap. She was like a little dragon fiercely guarding her gold.

Ana eventually moved on from those piles of toys to more structured worlds. She built cities out of wooden blocks, Legos or cardboard. She placed her tiniest toys inside them. She played with them for hours, drawing her younger sister, Emily, into these magical places. Ana was always the boss. Her animals always had starring roles in every adventure.

Ana at age 8, during a day of apple picking. Courtesy of Jacqueline Dooley

For a very brief period of time, Ana’s worlds dominated my home. They appeared on the dining room table and the floor of the den. They appeared in Ana’s bedroom and in Emily’s. They appeared on my coffee table, taking over until I made the girls pack it up and put it away. These initial worlds would inform what was to become Arkomo — Ana’s most beloved world.

***

Ana built Arkomo from clay, Legos, bits and pieces of Playmobil sets and more than a few Polly Pocket dolls — the kind that were about an inch tall. It was a world that unfolded on Ana’s dresser incrementally with trees, houses, roads made from bricks of red and brown vinyl (secured from a local store that sold model train supplies).

She made a sign that read “Welcome to Arkomo” — a name she came up with on her own — and populated the little world with ridiculously small toys called Squinkies. They were rubber people and animals that stood about half an inch high.

The foundation of Arkomo was shaky. It was made from wood blocks secured by blobs of clay with some baked polymer components. The whole thing was wobbly and precarious.

Every time I put Ana’s clothes away, a half dozen Arkomoians would topple from the dresser like vinyl raindrops. I always diligently put them back, trying to restore them to wherever they’d been when they fell. I would find Squinkies on Ana’s floor for years after that dresser — and Ana — were long gone.

Arkomo took up valuable real estate in Ana’s cluttered bedroom. I’d once complained about this to a friend who advised me, with a raised eyebrow, that I should clean it up while Ana was in school. There was no way I could do that. Ana had spent hours building and expanding Arkomo. Destroying it would’ve broken her heart.

In the way of parents who don’t want to create little sociopaths, I worried. I thought that maybe I was spoiling Ana and that she wouldn’t learn how to clean up her messes if I didn’t crack down on the toys. I worried that maybe Ana was getting too old for imaginary worlds.

Ana at 11, about a month after her liver transplant. Courtesy of Jacqueline Dooley

Ana eventually reclaimed the space on top of her dresser. She turned 10, then 11, and she wanted a stereo and some speakers. She became obsessed with My Little Pony and Funko Pop vinyl toys. She began collecting gemstones, incense and candles. She needed a place to display this stuff. She removed Arkomo, dumping the contents of the little world into a box for easy retrieval.

***

By the time Ana was diagnosed with cancer, Arkomo rarely resurfaced. When she pulled out the box, it was to scavenge a plastic tree or a tiny house for a school project. About a month ago, as I was cleaning the den, I found that box. I knew what was in it. I opened it anyway.

Arkomo was still there: the plastic animals, the vinyl roads, the Playmobil trees. The bits of clay that had held it all together are now crumbled and dry.

I don’t remember the last time Ana played with this stuff. It was likely a decade ago, at least, probably longer. I’ve learned, after seven years of grief, that last times aren’t something that always announce themselves.

Sometimes they’re quiet and subversive. For every last day of school, there are a dozen less grandiose lasts: the last time she watched SpongeBob, the last time she had a sleepover and the very last origami crane she ever folded. I don’t remember the last time Ana played with Arkomo.

I don’t remember the last time, before this year, that I’d opened the box that contained these things that Ana had loved. I don’t remember the last time I sat down on the floor and played beside the child whose face I haven’t seen in so many damn years.

I wish I had taken a picture of Arkomo when it was still on Ana’s dresser. I wish I had paid more attention when she brought her world to life. I wish I had written it all down.

That’s what I would say to you, if you asked me for parenting advice — My God. Write it down. Write it all down.

Ana at 14. "Her hair is turning white from chemotherapy," the author writes. Courtesy of Jacqueline Dooley

On March 22, Ana will be gone seven years. It’s a magical number — seven. A child who is 7 can invent entire worlds. If you break a mirror, you get seven years of bad luck. There are seven colors in the rainbow. Seven Chakras. Seven musical notes. 

Seven years is almost exactly half the length of Ana’s life. She died at age 15, just seven weeks shy of her 16th birthday. I don’t know what any of this means or if it means anything at all. Time is a construct, especially when your child dies before you. These expectations we have of ourselves and our children are meaningless.

As our kids grow up (or even if they don’t ), the details we recall of their childhood — of the children they were that only we got to see — fade. This loss is typically softened by the promise of their lives and of their futures. Growing up is always traumatic. We lose some kind of special magic as we get older. But not growing up — that’s even more traumatic. 

The dusty, broken remnants of Ana’s imaginary world reminded me that the child she was — the child only I really knew — is gone. The woman she was supposed to become is also gone. There are no more firsts or lasts for Ana. 

For the seventh anniversary of her death, I wanted to share something about Ana that only a few of us still remember. I wanted to invite you into Arkomo, a place ruled by the tiniest of keepsakes and the imagination of a girl who is deeply missed. Ana was here. She was amazing. She invented entire worlds. Now you know something private and wonderful about her. Take it with you. Make your own worlds. Remember Ana when you behold tiny treasures. 

《劫灰》

 作者：许章润

腊月的午后日光迟暮

窗前的残雪固执地栖息枝头

一卷在手睡意沉沉

尘世之衣无羁心魂

海疆天宇往世今生

原上的歌者垂首梦回二月早春

象牙门楣米黄温润

青春昂首走出城门

年少的心魂热血怔忡

坚信真理更嚮往公正

身无分文誓要用头颅行走

飢寒交迫也当作上天的情有独锺

惟汝子之女 童贞之母 至高无上

惟高天厚土 生生大化 无始无终

血管里的呼吸酣畅淋漓

龟甲上的卜辞是万古之谜

挟泰山越北海兮

少年用颅骨通灵于万灵之灵

风信子来自哪片海洋的孤岛？

夜来香为何洋溢著少妇的脂香？

大牆的背后是谁家的故事？

鹿回头的尽头说不定就是女儿愁？

黑甜乡里果真遍植了无边的温柔？

甜蜜和愁苦的交织何时是个头？

人类自古无视诸神还是诸神一直伤害人类？

天上一片和平只因蓄意将地上闢为疆场？

善终的远景不足以循循善诱

绝罚的恐惧反致人意嚣张？

钟鸣与沈默的夹缝中，活著是造物蓄意强加的最大羞辱？

海洋构成了大地的边疆而坟墓是大地的海疆？

大地辽阔莫非承载了连环骗局的万物坟场？

层叠的空间意义消失于三千世界的无限滥觞？

向日葵真的是永恆龟行的支点而令时间溃亡？

尤有甚者 它们早已双双霸佔了四野八荒

却为何忌惮字词发光？

而光接著光 通向天堂

待回首 块磊峥嵘 见字而忘意

春天的脚步衝决时间的誓约

生命的洪荒不再听命于字词的周章太过依恋逼迫出势必挣脱的绝望

径意的决绝只为了打发满腔怅惘

一天流星如残春的落樱纷披

宇宙沧桑啊装不下少年翱翔的心房

今晨的阳光照耀过祖先的额头

明夜的烈火将荡平祖先的祠堂

活人用唾液和精液过往

死人在大火中没齿不忘

实体奔向目的必须手持利斧自我了断

目的只能变现为实体才能自证清白

失去王座的国王便失去了利斧也失去了清白

落难的人儿既非实体亦非目的

历史旨在谋杀时间却拯救了时间

王国瓜分了世界却保全了空间

一己的痛痒未必是一代人的悲欣

尸骨膜拜死亡可从来是便饭家常

劫灰纷纷扬扬

伊凡雷帝哟这才手握铡刀笑口常开落落大方

众生皆苦而生命欢欣

尘世污秽可人间温存

千金赎不回春宵一刻

万钱买得了俯首称臣

交会的时刻成全了历史却腐蚀了时间

复活的心神一线牵连反致肉身孤苦伶仃

终点起于金木而起点终于水土

一把火将它们收拢于雷公地母

初始因果辗转连环开枝散叶

子午线惊骇了深古的伊壁鸠鲁

人间是万物的无边牧场

劫灰以人牲换得了世世代代的子嗣绵长

劫灰纷纷扬扬

荆轲的强项哟这才托起头颅

走向炼火的熊熊炉膛

女儿出嫁没有嫁妆

兄弟的墓前没有墓碑

二月的墨水书写了六月的飞雪

三月的融冰作育著七月的阴凉

两滴油脂嘀嗒

瓦瓮的池塘里王八们便逐鹿中原拨弄信仰

一声雷震夜阑

燃烧的火柱是怒发衝冠秉烛夜行的孤独白杨

创世的伤痕注定了人族是世界的永恆人质

帝国的贪婪将人间劫持为猎杀的血腥屠场

劫灰纷纷扬扬

名字叫喜的兄弟哟你不得不万里驱驰

殒命于沙场

昼夜交替仿如易信改宗

夜阑钟鸣从来不祥

走狗用主人打断的爪牙看家护院

笼中投喂的熬鹰不再是天空之王

面对他人惊觉自己是自己意味著创世纪

回首身影明白自己并不存在可谓破天荒

冥后的手上捧著宁馨儿

挽臂同行的是送子娘娘

肤如凝脂的原野上饿殍遍野

尖顶的教堂里藏贮著人肉的腊肠

本原的世界该是巨大的寂静

人族的征伐让凡间一派嚣嚷

诸神妄自了断而不得遂心如愿

跟我来 撒手去

日落之前 别无他念

劫灰纷纷扬扬

名字叫人类的造物哟你是猎食自己的荒原狼

北国的春天风沙瀰漫

北国的冬天肃杀森寒

北国的晴天浩渺空空荡荡

北国的雨天如晦唯有琉璃堂皇

冠盖云集徒留下一地腌臢

凛冽闢壅挡不住万里腥羶

破伤风的喧哗淹没了守夜的更鼓

长城的灌浆夺走了天下的口粮

休眠的祖国头枕著三个世纪的创伤

菜市口人头攒动著叫卖六颗血颅

死亡之前早有死亡

崖山之后还有崖山

劫灰纷纷扬扬

劫灰吹散了深古潼关莽荡四万万

魂兮儿郎

造化三千久病不癒

芸芸众生如断臂残肢

第一日的征伐也是最后一日的征伐宇宙一夜长大荒寒里放逐了天堂

没有雷暴的天空枉为天空

失去了天堂的世界适堪人居

鹰击长空不留坟冢

烧红的石棺孵化了四方异议七贤嵇康

人间世来源于创世説的意外唾馀

愚蠢的愤怒将床榻遍染血光

犹大的冰环冻不住原动的水晶天

挞世的皮鞭早已溺陷于血红深渊

人牲一息尚存迁延了劫灰的永世梦想

万物生死有时击退了最后时刻的飞砂走石

乱石投造的持斋佛堂里供奉著泥塑木雕的北极恶狼

倒挂地表 打开天窗

终生辛劳 子弹上堂

登舟忘川 无为悲伤

人牲在连天风雨中拉紧风帆

神祇挟陈年酒渍身披尸衣登陆结网

劫灰纷纷扬扬

风沙踢踏的九天边疆撕开伤口哟

罐装了全部的反形而上

远处的犬吠唤回时间的行程

残雪依在而落日黄昏

歌者捡起散落的遗民诗卷默如哑僧

血管里雷鸣著远方瀚海的雷般涛声

身影浮沈恰似冰河深古弯弓张弛

思绪翻腾搅动一天风月灵光乍现

活著残剩的活 影子中的影子行云流水

死著自己的死 幽灵牵手另一个幽灵地老天荒

史前的无边森寒直通向后人类的至上肃穆

秦砖汉瓦里浇铸的骸骨依然敲击铿锵

生命的流逝就是生命的延长

五脏六腑御风年轮齐奔岁月的沙场

劫灰纷纷扬扬

劫灰厚待我们如一苇慈航

三有六道不妨花冢惜春

童肤的乳香鞭策著行者无疆

远方的铃铎是众神的密语

一脚踉跄远离了待娶的新娘

大地情场啊

你是影 我是你的影中之影

你是火 我是木柴尽头的灰烬

我从不曾闭嘴锁喉

我早已与美娘子悍烈交配

我残存的每一根神经都依旧敏锐

我灼伤的心灵还是多情

敏锐于每一种缺席与在场

多情于世界的无义複无情

世界不是坏脾气的结果

我们不是坏运气的产物

但我们和世界一样受苦受难

但世界与我们一样遍体鳞伤

眼睁睁一步步走向衰朽和死亡

活生生沦落为赌场、屠场与坟场

亿万斯年亿万斯年啊

造化冥冥

造化冥冥

真实得彷如梦境

遥远得近在眼前

万物的崩溃叫万灵神伤

无数的重複连佛陀都深感颓唐

那个叫做人族的物种早已破产

这个世界不值得讴歌

我们不值得活著

我们受难的坟头插著同谋的旗语

脚下的血流早已堰塞了大道阴阳

假期和刑期都结束了

山脊上游荡著花豹、雄狮与母狼

忘川的尽头是忆涧

荒谬的所有悲伤都浮沉于一江流殇

三位一体 九天九地

石化的龙骨敲击著新棺深谷盪盪：

末日之后还有几天？

卡龙之舟现在何方？

黄泉道上谁来掌舵？

迷魂的汤药几种配方？

最后一班渡轮何时启航？

始祖的天空四星璀璨

始祖的天空九阳飞翔

冥河的对岸流散了曾经的歌醉

炼狱的山顶高擎著劫灰的梦乡

所有的风雨都变成了河流汩汩

所有的河流入海不只为慰藉盐的惆怅

人族自囚于历史的深宫备受蹂躏

人牲凭记忆重组时空而意兴湍颺

每一场风雨都提醒了忘川

每一条河流都抵达了梦乡

每一片记忆都是一叶扁舟

每一次重组都是一趟不归之航

劫灰纷纷扬扬

劫灰纷纷扬扬

歌者啊 人族的喉咙

你命定终生流亡于流亡

流亡者以流亡为友

孤独的人引自己的孤独作伴

流亡者将回忆熬製成诗意

孤独的人默立往世来生将今生遥望

身只一生 诗分三卷

一卷赠给今生 一卷留待来世

还有一卷头枕神州河山带砺莽苍苍

回忆过去只在于摆脱过去

直面原始的恐惧才有望恐惧不再

时间毁灭于时间也只能逃难于时间无限的乡愁指向莫名虚无的无端

至极的繁盛后必是至哀的极衰

手上的诗卷是万物的起点也是世界的终点

血腥的星球是仓皇人族唯一的逃城

没有邻居 也没有敌人

既善且恶 亦兽亦神

终生劳作 今夜无眠

等候明天 在一个黄昏和又一个黄昏之间

等候明天 用一个旧梦连缀起一束

新梦

等候明天 一手执剑一手扶犁

等候明天 一念成魔一念成佛

等候明天 要麽送上祝福要麽不忘诅咒

等候明天 言语道断先需卷帙浩繁

等候明天 新石器的杀器翻新自旧石器的祭器

等候明天 党史讲义正在化粪池里重妆为廉价厕纸

等候明天 因为活著所以必定死亡

等候明天 一魂之上还有一魂

等候明天 我三拳捶胸无罪无罪还是无罪

等候明天 只有明天才能征服明天

等候明天 这是第一个明天也是最后一个明天

等候明天 我手抚诗卷如执青铜祭器仰面问天

等候明天 我兀自长啸管他是地还是天

等候明天 我孑孓趱行于无情大地有情天

等候明天 此时此际便是一水汪洋盖地铺天

等候明天 我年逾花甲没有明天更无惧明天

“起来吧，不要害怕！”

劫灰有难

劫灰有福

劫灰纷纷扬扬

圣诞二零二二年七月

壬寅苦夏