Goodbye, October.
In the blink of an eye, it’s already the end of October. Time seems to have accelerated since the holidays, and I haven’t updated my blog since I established it last month. This month has been overwhelmingly busy; while I often wished to sit down and write, I simply lacked the time and quietude to complete a post.
Honestly, I quite enjoy October. It is arguably the most pleasant month of the year, with the sweltering heat of summer gradually fading and gentle evening breezes providing comfort. Compared to the dreary rains of April and May, October is nearly always cool and dry, making it simply delightful. If I were back in my hometown of Changzhou, particularly on the road beside my childhood home, I would often see the plane leaves fluttering down, crunching underfoot. The parks would be adorned with golden ginkgo trees and fiery red maples—vivid colours unique to autumn, evoking cherished memories of my childhood.
Time is a curious thing; it tends to cloak memories in a dreamy filter. I know very well that my high school years were fraught with challenges, spent seated at a desk, endlessly repeating homework and exams. Now, as I navigate my third year at university, I find myself at yet another crossroads, needing to decide my future direction. Recently, I have been haunted by nightmares, transported back to those bleak days, reliving the futile effort and frustration of failure. Yet, in hindsight, I also recall beautiful moments that glimmer like fragments of light. I remember a lovely afternoon when my homeroom teacher pointed out the tree outside the window and said, “When this tree buds and blossoms again next year, that will be your time to leave.” Reflecting on it now, that tree has seen two cycles of blooms since then, and I can still feel the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming through the window, alongside the chalkboard filled with notes and the presence of my short but impactful teacher by the podium.
Sometimes, I truly regret how I handled things. There is a saying in Deemo: “Never Left Without Saying Goodbye.” At that time, I was mired in the bitterness of my failed exams and reluctant to face the friends who had been with me for three years. Now, we have all scattered, and although we occasionally reunite, some may never be seen again. In my stubbornness, I chose to escape to the unfamiliar city of Canton, thousands of miles away for my studies. Yet, on sleepless nights, I cannot help but long for my hometown, friends, and family. I often despise my own cowardice; I seem to choose avoidance as a solution, which only inflicts more pain on both myself and others. Yet, I struggle to confront certain matters with courage.
In an essay about his self-portrait, Einstein wrote, “The bitter and the sweet come from the outside, the hard from within, from one’s own efforts.” This month has been eventful, even if some occurrences felt distant. I still grappled with profound feelings of helplessness. How small and fragile we are in the face of time and fate! Yet, we must hold onto beliefs that nourish hope for the future. At least now, I have new friends at university, some old acquaintances still in touch, and kind strangers I have met along the way. Canton is a vibrant city, and university life is both exciting and fulfilling. The past three years have been a new journey, and the wounds of the past are slowly healing as I begin to reclaim my former glory and beliefs. Once you set off, don’t look back; face the wind and forge ahead towards freedom and dreams. May the Lord bless us and protect us!
Taken at the summit of Baiyun Mountain on 2nd October.