The present is all we have, yet it is the one thing we will never learn to hold in our hands.
I wondered: what happens when a hundred thousand people memorize the same poem? Does anything change?
The things you experience are written on your cells as memories and patterns, which are reprinted again on the next generation. And even if you never lift a shovel or plant a cabbage, every day of your life something is written upon you. And when you die, the entirety of that written record returns to the earth. All we have on this earth, all we are, is a record. Maybe the only things that persist are not the evildoers and demons (though, admittedly, they do have a certain longevity) but copies of things. The original has long since passed away from this universe, but on and on we copy.
In English, consciousness and unconsciousness are part of a vertical plane, so that we wake up β and we fall β asleep and we sink β into a coma. Chinese uses the horizontal line, so that to wake is to cross a border towards consciousness β and to faint is to go back β . Meanwhile, time itself is vertical so that last year is βthe year aboveβ β and next year is βthe year belowβ β. The day before yesterday is the day βin frontβ β and the day after tomorrow is the day βbehindβ β. This means that future generations are not the generations ahead, but the ones behind. Therefore, to look into the future one must turn around...
