每日5分鐘（勵志）39

Growing in the Middle Ground
I believe that my beliefs are changing. Nothing is positive. Perhaps I’m in a stage of metamorphosis, which will one day have me emerging complete, sure of everything. Perhaps, I shall spend my life searching.
Until this winter, I believed in outward things, in beauty as I found it in nature and art. Beauty past—swift and sure—from the outside to the inside, bringing intense emotion. I felt a formless faith when I rode through summerwoods, when I heard the counterpoint of breaking waves, when I held a flower in my hand.
There was the same inspiration from art, here and there in flashes; in seeing for the first time the delicacy of a green jade vase, or the rich beauty of a rug; in hearing a passage of music played almost perfectly; in watching Markov dance Giselle; most of all, in reading. Other people’s creations, their sensitivity to emotion, color, sound, their feeling for form, instructed me. The necessity for beauty, I found to be the highest good, the human soul’s greatest gift. But there were moments when I wasn’t sure. There was an emptiness inside, which beauty could not fill.
This winter, I came to college. The questions put to me changed. Lists of facts—and who dragged whom how many times around the walls of what—lost importance. Instead, I was asked eternal question: what is beauty, what is truth, what is God? I talked about faith with other students. I read St. Augustine and Tolstoy. I wondered if I hadn’t been worshipping around the edges. Nature and art were the edges, and inner faith was the center. I discovered—really discovered—that I had a soul.
Just sitting in the sun one day, I realized the shattering meaning of St. Augustine’s statement that, “The sun and the moon, all the wonders of nature, are not God’s first works but second to spiritual works.” I had, up till then, perceived spiritual beauty only through the outward. It had come into me. Now I am groping towards an inner, spiritual consciousness that will be able to go out from me. I am lost in the middle ground. I’m learning.


在探索中成長
　　我堅(jiān)信，自己的信仰一直在改變。沒有什么事情是絕對的。或許，我還只是處在幼體的發(fā)育階段，總有一天我會發(fā)育完全，就會對一切深信不疑；或許，我將用一生的時間去探索。
　　在這個冬天以前，我信仰外界的事物，信仰在自然與藝術(shù)中所發(fā)現(xiàn)的美。美麗總會稍縱即逝，從外到內(nèi)，給人留下無盡的感傷。當(dāng)我騎馬穿過夏日的樹林，當(dāng)我聆聽著浪花翻滾的韻律，當(dāng)我手中握著一朵鮮花時，我感覺到一種無形的信念。同樣的靈感也來源于藝術(shù)——它無處不在，轉(zhuǎn)瞬即逝。當(dāng)我初次看到一只精妙的白玉花瓶時，或者看到一塊華麗的地毯，聽到一段演奏得近乎完美的音樂，看到馬爾科娃在《吉賽爾》中優(yōu)美的舞姿時，都會有這種靈感。然而，最多的靈感卻是來自于閱讀。他人的思想，對情感、顏色、聲音的敏銳，以及對形式的感知，都會給我?guī)韱⒌?。我發(fā)現(xiàn)，對美的需求是人類最崇高的善舉，是人類靈魂最偉大的天賦。但是，我想它并非一切。
　　今年冬天，我開始了大學(xué)生活。我所面臨的問題也有所改變。很多事實(shí)與那些“誰拉著誰徘徊在哪個墻邊？”的問題已變得毫無意義。相反，一些永恒的問題出現(xiàn)在我的面前，比如，何為美？何為真？
何為上帝？我與其他學(xué)生探討信仰的問題，我閱讀圣奧古斯丁與亞里士多德的著作。我想知道，自己是否一直徘徊在信仰的邊緣。自然與藝術(shù)皆為邊緣，心中的信仰才是核心所在。我真實(shí)地發(fā)現(xiàn)，自己擁有一個靈魂。
一天，當(dāng)我坐在陽光下時，我猛然明白了圣尼古斯丁的話的涵義：太陽與月亮，所有自然界的奇跡，皆非上帝的“初作”，而是精神上的二次創(chuàng)造。直到那一刻，通過外部的事物，我才認(rèn)識到精神上的美，那種美已經(jīng)走進(jìn)我的心中。如今，我正在通往內(nèi)在精神意識的道路上摸索前行，希望有一天能夠?qū)⑺鼈儚奈业膬?nèi)心喚醒。我迷失在探索之中，我在學(xué)習(xí)。