The amazing night air

Last Thursday, as I was leaving bridge cafe, it again dawned on me that my time in China is short. I've made some very good friends here, some of whom I will not see again for a long time. When I remember the laughters, the frowns, the jokes, the songs, the trivialities, the deep conversations--all the times we've shared together, it's very hard to say goodby. For the past few weeks, this thought had often darkened my mood, and this sadness resurfaced that night.

But as I stepped outside and got on my bike, I was struck by the fresh wintery air (not actually pristine but fresh by Beijing standards), and at the moment, it gave me a strange feeling of peace and reassurance. My attention turned to the vast, calm sky above me. It occured to me that this sky, has been constant through all of humanities' petty joys and sorrows, hopes and disappointments, all our fleeting experiences. The same air I breath is breathed by the strangers biking beside me, with their own worries and loves, and also by those before--the poets, the cynics, the scholars, the kings, the satisfied and the unfulfilled. In the night air was a feeling of aliveness and of a hidden promise. No question I would still miss my friends and those memories I will cherish forever, but even good things must end. The spring is beautiful though the flowers fade, and the shooting star dazzles though it shines only for a moment. There is time for everything, and a right dose for every ingredient in life. At that moment, instead of depression, I felt a deep appreciation for the beauty of this world.