All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year, sometimes as short as 24 hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed hero chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings, what regrets?
Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with gentleness, vigor and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry”. But most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.
In stories the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.
Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.
The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
我們都讀過震撼人心的故事，故事中的主人公只能在有限并且特定的生存時(shí)間。有時(shí)竟長達(dá)一年，有時(shí)短到24小時(shí)。但我們總是有興趣發(fā)現(xiàn)是多么注定英雄會選擇如何度過他最后的日子還是他的最后幾個(gè)小時(shí)。我說的自由人誰是有選擇的，不會判刑的罪犯的活動范圍被嚴(yán)格限定，當(dāng)然。
這樣的故事讓我們思考，我們該做些什么類似的情況下做的。什么事件，什么經(jīng)歷，我們那最終的時(shí)間為蕓蕓眾生，有什么遺憾什么交往？
有時(shí)我想，這將是一個(gè)很好的規(guī)則，每一天都當(dāng)作如果我們明天就會死去。這種態(tài)度鮮明地強(qiáng)調(diào)了生命的價(jià)值。我們每天都應(yīng)該以優(yōu)雅的姿態(tài)，活力和升值的敏銳這往往是失去時(shí)間的時(shí)候我們面前綿延的日，月和幾年來不斷的全景。還有那些，當(dāng)然，誰也奉行“吃，喝，玩，樂”享樂主義的座右銘。但大多數(shù)人還是會受到即將到來的死亡的懲罰。
在故事中，將死的主人公通常儲存在由某種命運(yùn)的最后一分鐘，但幾乎總是他的價(jià)值觀被改變了。他變得更加理解生命的意義及其永恒的精神價(jià)值。我們常常注意到，那些誰生活或已生活在死亡的陰影之中的一個(gè)圓潤甜美，以他們所做的一切。
我們中的大多數(shù)，但是，把生活是理所當(dāng)然的。我們知道，某一天我們一定會死，但通常我們把那天想象在遙遠(yuǎn)的將來。當(dāng)我們心寬體健時(shí)，死亡幾乎是不可想象的。我們很少會考慮它。日子伸出的盡頭。所以，我們干著瑣碎的事情，幾乎意識不到我們對待生活的冷漠態(tài)度。
同樣是冷漠，恐怕在運(yùn)用我們所有的本能和感覺的。只有聾子才珍惜聽力，只有盲人才能認(rèn)識到能看見事物的種種幸福。這尤其適用于那些誰失去了視力和聽力的成年生活。但是，這些誰從未遭受損失的視力或聽力障礙很少充分利用這些寶貴的能力。他們的眼睛和耳朵的所有景點(diǎn)，模模糊糊的聲音，他們并不專心也很少珍惜。這是不懂得珍惜我們所擁有的，直到我們失去的意識到健康的它，直到我們生病的老故事。
我常常想，這將是一件幸事，如果每個(gè)人在他成年的早些時(shí)候，失明失聰，在某些時(shí)候了幾天。黑暗會使他更加珍惜光明;沉寂將教他知道聲音的樂趣。
Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings, what regrets?
Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with gentleness, vigor and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry”. But most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.
In stories the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.
Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.
The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
我們都讀過震撼人心的故事，故事中的主人公只能在有限并且特定的生存時(shí)間。有時(shí)竟長達(dá)一年，有時(shí)短到24小時(shí)。但我們總是有興趣發(fā)現(xiàn)是多么注定英雄會選擇如何度過他最后的日子還是他的最后幾個(gè)小時(shí)。我說的自由人誰是有選擇的，不會判刑的罪犯的活動范圍被嚴(yán)格限定，當(dāng)然。
這樣的故事讓我們思考，我們該做些什么類似的情況下做的。什么事件，什么經(jīng)歷，我們那最終的時(shí)間為蕓蕓眾生，有什么遺憾什么交往？
有時(shí)我想，這將是一個(gè)很好的規(guī)則，每一天都當(dāng)作如果我們明天就會死去。這種態(tài)度鮮明地強(qiáng)調(diào)了生命的價(jià)值。我們每天都應(yīng)該以優(yōu)雅的姿態(tài)，活力和升值的敏銳這往往是失去時(shí)間的時(shí)候我們面前綿延的日，月和幾年來不斷的全景。還有那些，當(dāng)然，誰也奉行“吃，喝，玩，樂”享樂主義的座右銘。但大多數(shù)人還是會受到即將到來的死亡的懲罰。
在故事中，將死的主人公通常儲存在由某種命運(yùn)的最后一分鐘，但幾乎總是他的價(jià)值觀被改變了。他變得更加理解生命的意義及其永恒的精神價(jià)值。我們常常注意到，那些誰生活或已生活在死亡的陰影之中的一個(gè)圓潤甜美，以他們所做的一切。
我們中的大多數(shù)，但是，把生活是理所當(dāng)然的。我們知道，某一天我們一定會死，但通常我們把那天想象在遙遠(yuǎn)的將來。當(dāng)我們心寬體健時(shí)，死亡幾乎是不可想象的。我們很少會考慮它。日子伸出的盡頭。所以，我們干著瑣碎的事情，幾乎意識不到我們對待生活的冷漠態(tài)度。
同樣是冷漠，恐怕在運(yùn)用我們所有的本能和感覺的。只有聾子才珍惜聽力，只有盲人才能認(rèn)識到能看見事物的種種幸福。這尤其適用于那些誰失去了視力和聽力的成年生活。但是，這些誰從未遭受損失的視力或聽力障礙很少充分利用這些寶貴的能力。他們的眼睛和耳朵的所有景點(diǎn)，模模糊糊的聲音，他們并不專心也很少珍惜。這是不懂得珍惜我們所擁有的，直到我們失去的意識到健康的它，直到我們生病的老故事。
我常常想，這將是一件幸事，如果每個(gè)人在他成年的早些時(shí)候，失明失聰，在某些時(shí)候了幾天。黑暗會使他更加珍惜光明;沉寂將教他知道聲音的樂趣。