简单生活 The Art of Living Simply
理查德·沃克尔默/Richard Wolkomir
We paddled down Maine's Saco River that September afternoon, five couples in canoes, basking in the summer's last golden sunlight. Grazing deer, fluttering their white tails, watched our flotilla pass. That evening we pitched tents, broiled steaks and sprawled around the campfire, staring sleepily at the stars. One man, strumming his guitar, sang an old Shaker song:“Tis the gift to be simple. Tis the gift to be free.”
Our idyll ended, of course, and we drove back to the world of loan payments, jobs and clogged washing machines.“Tis the gift to be simple,”I found myself humming at odd moments,“Tis the gift to be free.”How I longed for that simplicity. But where could I find it?
“Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify.”That dictum of Henry David Thoreau's, echoing from the days of steamboats and ox-drawn plows, had long hunted me. Yet Thoreau himself was able to spend only two years in the cabin he built beside Walden Pond. And Henry-wifeless, childless, jobless-never had to tussle with such details as variable-rate mortgages.
My life attracted detail, as if my motto were:“Complicate, complicate.”And I've found I'm not alone. But one day my thinking about simplicity turned upside down.
I was visiting a physicist in his office tower jutting from his Illinois farmlands. We looked through his window at the laboratory's miles-around particle accelerator, an immense circle in the prairie far below.“It's a kind of time machine,”he said, explaining that the accelerator enables physicists to study conditions like those shortly after Creation's first moment. The universe was simpler then, he noted, a mere dot comprising perhaps only one kind of force and one kind of particle. Now it has many kinds of forces, scores of different particles, and contains everything from stars and galaxies to dandelions, elephants and the poems of Keats.
Complexity, I began to see from that tower, is part of God's plan.
Deep down, we sense that we speak, disparagingly, of a“simpleton”.Nobody wants to be guilty of“simplistic”thinking.
But blinding ourselves to complexity can be dangerous. Once I bought a home. I liked its setting so much I unconsciously avoided probing into its possible defects. After it was mine, I found it needed insulation, roofing, a new heating system, new windows, a new septic system-everything. That old house became an albatross, costing far more than I could afford, the cost in stress was even higher, I had refused to look at the complexities.
Even ordinary finances are rarely simple-what does your insurance policy actually cover?Yet, economics are simplicity itself compared with moral questions.
One afternoon when I was ten, I found myself the leader of an after-school gaggle of boys. I had to divert them quickly, I knew, or my career as leader would be brief. And then I saw Joe.
Joe was an Eiffel Tower of a kid, an incipient giant. His family had emigrated from Europe, and he had a faint accent.
“Let's get him!”I said.
My little troop of Goths swarmed upon Joe. Somebody snatched his hat and we played catch with it. Joe ran home, and I took his hat as a trophy.
That night, our doorbell rang. Joe's father, a worried-looking farmer with a thick accent, asked for Joe's hat. I returned it sheepishly.“Please don't upset Joe,”he said earnestly.“He has asthma. When he has an attack, it is hard for him to get better.”
I felt a lead softball in my chest. The next evening I walked to Joe's house. He was in the garden, tilling the soil, he watched me warily as I walked up. I asked if I could help.“Okay,”he said. After that I went often to help him and we became best friends.
I had taken a step toward adulthood. Inside myself I had seen possibilities, like a tangle of wires. This red wire was the possibility for evil, which requires no more than ignoring another's pain. And here was the white wire of sympathy. I could have a hand in connecting all those wires-it was a matter of the decisions I made. I had discovered complexity, and found in it an opportunity to choose, to grow. Its price is responsibility.
Perhaps, that is one reason we yearn for the simple life. In a way, we want to be children, to let someone else carry the awkward backpack of responsibility.
We are like wheat, here on earth to ripen. We ripen intellectually by letting in as much of the universe's complexity as we can. Morally we ripen by making our choices. And we ripen spiritually by opening our eyes to Creation's endless detail.
One afternoon I picked up a fallen leaf from the sugar maple in our yard. Up close it was yellow, with splashes of red. At arm's length it was orange. Its color depended on how I looked at it.
I knew a little about how this leaf had spent its life, transforming sunlight and carbon dioxide into nutrients, and I knew that we animals breathe that oxygen that such plants emit, while they thrive upon the carbon dioxide we exhale. And I knew that each cell of the leaf has a nucleus containing a chemical-DNA-upon which is inscribed all the instructions for making and operating a sugar maple. Scientists know far more about this than I.But even their knowledge extends only a short way into the sea of complexity that is a sugar maple.
I'm beginning to understand, I think, what simplicity means. It does not mean blinding ourselves to the world's stunning complexity or avoiding the choices that ripen us. By“simplify, simplify,”Thoreau meant simplifying ourselves.
To accomplish this, we can:
Focus on deeper things. The simple life is not necessarily living in a cabin, cultivating beans. It is refusing to let our lives be“frittered away by detail”.A professor taught me a secret for focusing:Turn off the TV and read great books. They open doors in your brain.
Undertake life's journey one step at a time. I once met a young couple both blind since birth. They had a three-year-old daughter and an infant, both fully sighted. For those parents, everything was complex:bathing the baby, monitoring their daughter, mowing the lawn. Yet, they were full of smiles and laughter. I asked the mother how she kept track of their lively daughter.“I tie little bells on her shoes,”she said with a laugh.
“What will you do when the infant walks too?”I asked.
She smiled.“Everything is so complicated that I don't try to solve a problem until I have to. I take one thing at a time!”
Pare down your desires. English novelist and playwright Jerome Klapka Jerome caught the spirit of that enterprise when he wrote,“Let your boat of life be light, packed only with what you need-a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends, worth the name, someone to love and someone to love you, a cat, a dog and a pipe too, enough to eat and enough to wear and a little more than enough to drink, for thirst is a dangerous thing.”
Not long ago I flew home to see my father in the hospital. He has a disease that nibbles away the mind. I was a snarl of worries. Treatments?Nursing homes?Finances?
He was crouched in a wheelchair, a shriveled, whitened remnant of the father I had known. As I stood there, hurt and confused, he looked up and saw me. And then I saw something unexpected and wonderful in his eyes:recognition and love. It welled up and filled his eyes with tears. And mine.
That afternoon, my father came back from wherever his illness had taken him. He joked and laughed, once again the man I had known. And then he was tired, and we put him to bed. The next day, he did not remember I had come. And the next night he died.
Every death is a door opening on Creation's mystery. The door opens, but we see only darkness. In that awful moment, we realize how vast the universe is, complexity upon complexity, beyond us. But that is the true gift of simplicity:to accept the world's infinite complication, to accept bewilderment.
And then, especially, we can savor simple things. A face we love, perhaps, eyes brimming with love.
It is the simplest of things. But it is more than enough.
那一年,九月的下午,我们五对夫妇各自慢悠悠地划着独木舟,沿着缅因州的萨科河顺流而下,沐浴在夏末的金色阳光之中,无比惬意。岸边的小鹿,啃着小草,摇着白色的尾巴,注视着我们这支小小的船队漂流而过。晚上,我们搭起了帐蓬,烤着牛排,围着篝火懒散地躺着,睡眼朦胧地凝望着满天繁星。有人弹拨着吉它,唱起古老的歌曲:“淡泊乃是天资,自由乃是天赐。”
当然了,田园牧歌式的漫游告一段落,我们又驱车回到这个世界,还贷款,忙工作,还有洗衣机塞满了脏衣服。偶尔我也会情不自禁地哼唱:“淡泊乃是天资,自由乃是天赐。”我多想活得淡定从容,可哪儿去找呢?
“我们的生命都因为繁杂琐事尽付东流。简单点,简单点。”亨利·戴维·梭罗的警世名言打从老牛犁地、汽船轰鸣的时代就萦绕耳畔,挥之不去。而梭罗自己也不过在瓦尔登池边自己造的小木屋里度过两年光阴,他无妻,无子,无所事事——不必为利率高低不同的房屋按揭这类繁杂琐事费劲操劳。
我的生活总被繁杂琐事吸引,好像我的座右铭该是“复杂点,复杂点。”我还发现我并非唯一。然而有一天,我对简单朴素的想法完全颠覆了。
有一天,我去拜访一位物理学家,他的办公室是一座塔楼,矗立于他的家乡伊利诺伊州农场之上。透过窗户,我们看到塔楼下远处的草场上有一座巨大的圆形物——那是实验室方圆几英里的粒子加速器,他解释说:“这是一种时间机器。”加速器使得物理学家们能够对混沌初开时的状况加以研究。他补充说,那时的宇宙要简单一些,或许只是一个小圆点,只包含一种能量或一种粒子。而现在的宇宙有着多种能量和几十种粒子,从星球、银河系到蒲公英、大象和济慈的诗文,包罗万象。
就在那个塔楼上,我方才明白:复杂,乃是上帝全盘设计的一部分。
在内心深处,我们感觉到这一点。每每谈到“头脑简单的傻子”时,我们常常带着轻蔑的口吻。谁也不想背上一个“简单化”的罪名。
但对复杂的状态视而不见是危险的。我曾经买过一所房子,由于非常喜欢周围环境,不知不觉之间忽略了可能存在的缺点。房子归我之后,我才发现,要做的事情不胜枚举:需要隔热保温,需要加盖屋顶,需要新的供暖系统,需要新窗户,需要新的化粪池。房子让我不堪重负,修缮的高额费用令我力有不逮,而精神压力则更大,这便是我不愿正视复杂性的后果。
就连一般的财务问题也不是那么简单,譬如,你的保险单上究竟包括了哪些条款?然而,与道德问题相比,经济学本身还算是简洁明了。
记得十岁那年有一天下午,我无意中成了一帮孩子的校外头目。我知道要马上干一件让他们兴奋的事儿,不然,我这个位子难保。正在此时,我看到了乔。
在孩子里,乔是一个小巨人,高得像埃菲尔铁塔。他们全家从欧洲移民过来,因此他略微有些乡音。
“捉住他!”我叫道。
我这支野蛮的小部队一窝蜂地向乔扑了上去,有人抢走了他的帽子,我们就玩起传球接球游戏。乔跑回家,我拿着他的帽子,活像缴获了一个战利品。
那天晚上,我家的门铃响了。乔的父亲,一个愁容满面、口音浓重的农夫上门讨还乔的帽子,我局促不安地还给了他。“请不要再招惹乔了,”他郑重其事地对我说:“他有哮喘病,发作起来很难好的。”
我感到胸口像塞进了一个铅做的垒球。第二天晚上,我走到乔的家,他正在花园里翻土。我走近他,他则警惕地望着我。我问是否能帮上点儿忙。“好吧,”他回答说。从那以后,我经常去帮他,我们成了最要好的朋友。
我向成熟迈进了一步。我在自己身上看到了各种各样的可能性,就像一团缠结不清的电线。红线通向邪恶,要的不过是对他人的痛苦不理不睬。而白线通向悲天悯人。我的手可能触及所有的电线——一切取决于我所作的决定。我已发现了事物的复杂,其本身是一种机会,我们借此做出选择,得以成长,代价便是承担责任。
也许,这正是我们渴望淡泊简朴生活的一个理由。在某种意义上,我们情愿做个孩子,好让其他人背负责任,穷于应付。
不久前,我参加了某学院的一个讨论会。会上美国国务院的一位官员做了有关国际问题谈判的讲演,之后他又请大家提问题。有个学生问:“为什么你们不干脆消除这些可怕的核武器?”这位外交官面无表情地看了她一眼,然后说:“这正是我们这个时代的难题——世界上某些最具远见卓识的人正在为此艰苦努力。”“那好,那就消灭这些武器吧。”那位学生说。沉默片刻,这位外交官叹了口气,接着说:“如果问题这么简单就好了。”叹息背后是问题的种种复杂性,诸如国家安全、国际政治、无法“取消”现有技术的发明等等,不一而足。对我来说,他们的对话寓意在此:在一个复杂的世界里,强求简单朴素愚不可及。
像小麦一样,我们在这块土地上等待成熟。心智上的成熟要靠尽量吸取宇宙万物的复杂性;道德上的成熟有赖于作出决断,有所取舍;精神上的成熟则要凭借我们张大双眼目睹造物主带给我们的繁杂琐事,无穷无尽。
一天下午,我在院子里拾起一片枫树的落叶,近看是黄的,带点红色,斑斑驳驳。伸直胳膊再看,便成了桔黄色,它的颜色决定于我怎么看它。
我对这片叶子的经历略有所知,它吸收阳光,把二氧化碳转化为养料。我知道我们动物所吸入的氧气是这些植物吐出来的,而它们则靠我们呼出的二氧化碳茁壮成长。我还知道,叶子的每一个细胞都有一个脱氧核糖核酸的细胞核,上面刻写着一切关于枫树怎样形成和变化的指令。这一点科学家们比我知道的多得多,但就是他们的知识也不过是对枫树这复杂的知识海洋的浅辄探索而已。
我觉着开始懂得简单朴素的真正意义了。这并不意味着无视那令人眼花缭乱的缤纷世界,或是逃避使我们成熟的选择。“简单点,简单点。”梭罗所指的是简化我们自己。
要做到这一点,可以参照以下几点:
关注意义深远的事务。生活得淡泊不一定非要住小屋、种豆子不可。它只是使我们的生命不至于“因为繁杂琐事尽付东流。”有位教授告诉我集中精力的秘诀:“关掉电视,阅读伟大的书籍,它们会为你们打开一扇智慧的大门。”
人生之旅步步为营。有一次曾遇到一对夫妇,他俩天生是盲人,有一个三岁女儿和一个婴儿,两个孩子都视力完好。对这样的父母来说,每件事情都是复杂的:给婴儿洗澡,管教女儿,修剪草坪。然而,他们的生活却充满了欢声笑语。我问这位母亲怎样跟踪她那活泼可爱的女儿,她笑着回答:“我在她的鞋子上系上了小铃铛。”“那么等小婴儿也会走路了,怎么办呢?”我又问。她微笑着说:“每件事都那么复杂,所以不到万不得已,我不会试着去解决某个问题。我每次只承担一件事情!”
降低我们的欲望。英国小说家、戏剧家杰罗姆·克拉普卡的一番话道出了其个人胆识的精神本质。他写道:“让你的生命之舟轻巧些,只装上你需要的东西——一个朴实的家,简单恬淡的快乐,一二知己,你爱的人和爱你的人,一只猫,一条狗,烟斗一二,够吃的食品、够穿的衣服,饮料多带一些,因为口干舌燥可是要人命呢。”
不久前,我乘飞机回乡看望住院的父亲,他得了一种记忆逐渐丧失的疾病。我心如乱麻,忧虑忡忡:如何治疗?如何护理?经济负担又如何?
父亲蜷缩在轮椅上,萎靡不振。我从前所熟知的父亲面容苍白,已是枯叶飘零,风烛残年。我站在那儿,痛苦迷茫。忽然间,父亲抬起双眼,看到了我。就在那一刹,我在父亲的眼睛里看到了令人惊奇的神采:他认出了我,眼神中充满了爱。父亲老泪纵横,我也是热泪盈眶。
那天下午,父亲似乎从病魔那儿回来了。他玩笑不断,笑声朗朗,我又一回看到我所熟悉的父亲。然后他疲惫不堪,我们把他抱回**。第二天,他完全不记得我来看他。第三天夜里便与世长辞。
每一个死亡都是通往神秘造物主的一扇大门,大门开了,但我们所见的只是一片黑暗。在那令人敬畏的时刻,我们意识到,宇宙是多么的浩瀚无穷,繁复杂驳,令人匪夷所思。然而,领悟淡泊生活真正的聪颖天资就在于能够接受世界无穷无尽的错综复杂,接受纷乱困惑。
淡泊简朴的生活尤其需要细细品尝。一张我们所钟爱的面庞,或许,一双闪耀着爱意的眼睛。
虽平淡无奇,却令人回味不尽。
词汇笔记
tussle['t?s?l]v.扭打;激烈的争斗
The old man tussled with the big fish.
老人和大鱼进行搏斗。
insulation[,?ns?'le???n]n.绝缘;隔离,孤立
Please examine the insulation of the electric wires in my house.
请检查一下我屋子里电线的绝缘情况。
incipient[?n's?pi:?nt]adj.开始的,初期的
This incipient tax increase may lead to a slowdown of consumption and investment spending.
这些新增税种的增加可能导致消费和投资开支的下滑。
remnant['remn?nt]adj.剩余的;残留的
After lots of hours of fighting, the remnants of the force were fleeing.
战斗持续了几个小时后,该部队残部打算溜掉。
小试身手
我们的生命都因为繁杂琐事尽付东流。
译______________________________
这并不意味着无视那令人眼花缭乱的缤纷世界,或是逃避使我们成熟的选择。
译______________________________
虽平淡无奇,却令人回味不尽。
译______________________________
短语家族
How I longed for that simplicity. But where could I find it?
long for:渴望;向往
造______________________________
Its color depended on how I looked at it.
depend on:取决于;依赖;依靠
造______________________________