和理疗师面对面的那一小时,我抽完了一整盒纸巾,问诊结束,医师陪我走到门口,我转向他焦急地问道:这一切都有意义吗?
Everything about you makes sense, he said.
你所有的一切都有意义,他说道。
I found these words enormously comforting. I so badly wanted the narrative of my life to make sense. Two brief failed marriages -- one at 18 the other at 28? Makes sense. My uneasy relationship to faith and doubt, having been raised in a strict, religious home? Makes sense. The emptiness I continued to feel at the early loss of my father? Makes sense. My impossibly fraught relationship with my mother? Sense. My fear and guilt at the increasing odds that my son would be an only child just like I had been? Sense.
他的话极度安慰我心。我多渴望我生活的一切都有意义。两段婚姻转瞬即逝,一次18岁的时候,还有一次是28岁,都有意义?有。我成长于一个严苛又虔诚的家庭,信仰与疑惑,让我惴惴不安,这也有意义?有。早年父亲过世,我的空虚无助,有意义吗?有。我与我母亲关系紧张得不可想象、令人心焦,有意义吗?有。我儿子越来越有可能和我一样是独生子女,我担惊受怕、愧疚难捱,这有意义吗?有。
Our lives grow so complex, so unwieldy, so difficult to explain as we get older. Haven't we all had the experience of making a new friend in our 30s, 40s or 50s and wondering how in the world we can possibly explain ourselves? Our heartaches and our joys, our failures, losses, accomplishments, regrets? Who we've loved? Who we've wounded? What we'd do over -- if we possibly could -- if given the chance? As the trajectory of our lives stretches out from childhood well into adulthood, the arc is rarely smooth or clear.
【即使是生命中的喧嚣,我们亦可拥抱】相关文章:
★ 适应力的故事
★ 人生的大石头
★ 生活中的一课
★ 生活像杯中的咖啡
★ 非比寻常的好朋友
最新
2020-12-21
2020-08-06
2020-07-31
2020-07-30
2020-07-30
2020-07-30