Qī Xiànlín: Chinese Lilacs

Since moving to a new residence, every spring and early summer, I always go west and walk, and the fragrance is always fragrant, permeating the nostrils. Looking up, on the bank of the green water pond, on the high and low soil mounds, I can see vast patches of Chinese lilacs, covered in blossoms, gleaming with silver; the flowers adorn the branches of the trees, extending upwards, upwards, all the way to the sky, which immediately reminds me of the white ancient snow peaks I saw on the Xinjiang Sky Lake.

This kind of lilac tree is very common in the north. Although I am also intoxicated by the fragrant air, I have never seriously paid attention to this flower tree—I've become accustomed to it.

One year, it was also at this spring and early summer time that I accompanied an Indian friend to visit the campus of Peking University. When we came to the lilac tree, he suddenly inhaled deeply, looked up, and his eyes widened, round and large. I had once seen a painting by an Indian depicting an Indian man's large eyes, and he painted his eyes expanded beyond his face to exaggerate their size. This time, I truly felt as though he had expanded his eyes to the outside of his face.

'It's really beautiful! This is a miracle!'

'What miracle?'

'Your kind of flowers.'

'What's so amazing about them? We have many of these here.'

'Many is not to be understated?'

I remained silent, it seemed pointless to argue. But his words had an effect on me: I began to seriously pay attention to lilacs, as if seeing them for the first time, feeling very unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar. I discovered many new things about them that I had never noticed before.

In a moment of contemplation, I suddenly thought of a similar situation I had in India. When I saw the towering Bottle Tree in Hyderabad, I was equally astonished. Bowl-sized red flowers hung from the branches, deep red like the rising sun, brilliant like the evening glow, causing me to exclaim:

'It's really beautiful! It's simply miraculous!'

'What's miraculous?'

'These Bottle Flowers.'

'What's so amazing about them? There are plenty of these everywhere.'

Our Indian friend, full of puzzled excitement. My eyes widened, I couldn't see them myself. Now, in China, it was the Indian friend (not the same one) who was expanding his eyes.

In our daily lives, we all have this experience: the more we get used to something, the less we notice its beauty or ugliness. This phenomenon is easily explained in psychology: we must maintain a certain distance from the objective existence to observe it objectively. Can we not consciously change this habit? Can we not always look at everything with a new perspective?

I decided to try it myself, and indeed, there was a miraculous effect. Now, when I walk past the pond and see lilacs, I consciously create the illusion of seeing them for the first time, I no longer regard them as familiar, but instead enjoy them fully. The lilacs seemed to have found a confidante, small and large, high and low, the Chinese lilacs seemed to be whispering to me, and speaking to me. The surrounding rocks and trees seemed to come to life, full of vitality and vibrancy. The green water in the pond seemed greener; the white blossoms on the lilacs seemed whiter; the red flowers in the neighboring fences seemed redder. The wind blew, the birds sang, everything was full of life and joy. All the things in front of me were connected, forming the great joy of the universe.

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