The Holiday Is Over, Time to Get Back to the Grind of Studying

When I was a child, there was a saying in our village: "Want me to work? Wait until the morning of the 16th!" This meant that until the 15th day of the first lunar month, the Spring Festival wasn't really over. As long as the Spring Festival hadn't ended, people were allowed to slack off; real work was supposed to begin on the morning of the 16th day of the first lunar month.

I haven't relaxed this much during a Spring Festival in a long time. Perhaps it was because the pressure of study and work last year had been so great, so this Spring Festival I really let myself play hard. As soon as my family invited me along, I went everywhere with them to join in the fun, truly entering a vacation state — and this state lasted all the way through the Lantern Festival.

This is not to say that I didn't study or work during this period (in fact I did both every day), but rather that during this time I really felt as if I had returned to childhood, observing the festival with a festive mindset. As the days passed, a sense of ease emerged; there was no longer a mountain of work and schoolwork piled up in my mind. My sleep quality also improved markedly — I could sleep 7–9 hours a day, and the chronic obstructive pulmonary disease triggered by last year's influenza A had somehow resolved on its own.

The downside is that the vocabulary words and formulas I'd worked hard to memorize a while back seem to have been forgotten quite quickly. Perhaps because I'm getting older, my memory really isn't as good as when I was young. But fortunately, my reasoning ability is much better than it used to be, which is enough to compensate for this shortcoming.

I interpret my state during this Spring Festival as a kind of rebound process after the brain has been overworked, and then I naturally accepted this view of myself, achieving psychological self-consistency. It really is too easy for people to persuade themselves to prefer ease over work; we can find a hundred excuses to let ourselves pursue pleasure with a clear conscience.

When I returned to my hometown to sweep my mother's grave during the Spring Festival, there was no longer the sadness and pain I used to feel; time had finally helped me heal this wound in my heart. Although I still think of my mother often, each time I do my mood is basically calm and pleasant. Looking back on the past, I sometimes cannot help laughing out loud.

My mother gave me unquestionable love, and her love has made it easy for me to live a self-sufficient and fulfilled life throughout this whole existence. Because from childhood my mother let me know that I lacked nothing, that I had nothing to fear, and that she would always be my safety net. A mother's love is stable and enduring. My mother was simply a master of love; she nourished me with love as I grew up. I inherited her genes, and at the same time she raised me to be mischievous and interesting, lively and active, positive and optimistic. All of this played a key role in my career success and also saved my life from much friction and annoyance.

My mother also made me, from birth, carry myself neither humbly nor arrogantly; I probably absorbed the idea of the equality of all beings while still in the womb. The idea of equality was my mother's core belief; all her life she neither looked up to anyone nor down on anyone. My mother displayed an innocence far beyond her years; her eyes remained clear and simple until the day she died — they were the windows to her soul. The grievances and resentments of the world seemed never able to pollute her heart; no matter her age, she always retained her rare simplicity and kindness.

If she had successful prenatal education, I think it must have been the idea that everyone is equal and the compassion for all living beings that she inadvertently revealed while sunning herself and chatting with the neighbors. Because of this, I have never had to experience the psychological states of inferiority or superiority in my life, nor have I any interest in clinging to others or being flattered by them; I have no need for others' approval. Honestly, I feel this is the most valuable asset of my life. When a person looks at everything on a level plane, the calmness and composure within cannot be affected by the outside world.

After returning to Beijing on the fourth day of the first lunar month, I spent most of my time in the National Library, quite freely reading the books I like and enjoying the pleasure of reading. Each time I entered, I tried to choose the spot with the best sunlight. The library has excellent natural lighting, and this warm, bright environment puts one in a good mood, again and again prompting one to marvel at how wonderful life is. This patch of Beijing is my biggest comfort zone; I really don't want to leave it for long in this lifetime.

But like it or not, now I must return to the state of a "studying work animal," collect myself, and study for the exams for a while.