I used to be a hoarder. Well, I still am, but I‘m a reformed hoarder now. I liked to hoard stuff like the tissues, notebooks, books, all kinds of small gadgets, and e-books. I guess I got this trait from my parents. They lived through famines and huge scarcities of goods, so they never throw anything away, but keep using them until they are completely broken, then put them away into the depths of the house. They always taught me to return stuff back to where they were after using them, but never taught me to throw away things. After all, being frugal was considered a great virtue at that time. Luckily, we didn't have much money back then and could not afford a lot of things, so the house was kept very tidy. As frugal parents, they never skimped on one thing though--books. Whatever the price, they would always buy me books that I want, so my frugal nerve is applied to everything but books. And after a few years in university, my desk in the dorm looked like this. I didn't realize I had a problem until the day I graduated from university, when I discovered that 4 out of 11 bags of all my belongings accumulated over four years were books. It was a lot of hassle for me to transport all that stuff back to my hometown, and I was relieved that I could just dump most of my stuff back at home. When I came to Shanghai for a master's degree, I packed lightly, just some essentials and a few textbooks. And my bed and desk in the new dorm looked fantastic, at the beginning. After two years, somehow my desk was completely overwhelmed. I can't remember clearly what happened in between, but the stuff just seemed to grow and grow, and I could literally disappear into the mess. Renting my own apartment after graduation only made me crazier in my obsession. Somehow, being surrounded by digital stuff and electronic things makes me feel safe. I enjoy the feeling of having everything I might need within my arm's reach, so that I can do everything in a convenient fashion. Admittedly, I have been aware of my problems for a long time, and I know that much of the stuff I possess have no other use than sitting in the box and waiting to be moved to the next apartment. I know clearly that their only value is that "I might need it one day", though that "one day" has not come for several years. I have tried many times to part ways with some of these things that I know are not doing anything but taking up space in my precious little apartment, but all I ever did was taking them out from the dark forgotten corners, looking at them, and putting them back where they were. Real change started when I had to move to a new apartment for the nth time. I was taken back by the sheer volume of stuff I had when I put them all into boxes and bags. Apart from the things lying on the surface, there were endless things I pulled from all the nooks and crannies of the house. Even the movers commented that it was very rare for a single girl to have the amount of stuff that a family normally has. So I decided to give some stuff away and throw away some others. It was a never-ending battle. I threw away things, then bought new things. Somehow the amount of stuff started to weigh on me, making me feel oppressed. I felt like I was trapped in a small cage, unable to move, my imagination being squashed. Then I took to hiking and climbing mountains. Being close to nature and forced to bring as little essentials as possible made me realize that people can survive on just a handful of essentials. Human genius has invented countless types of tools and things to make our lives better. There is perhaps a dedicated tool for doing almost everything. But we can use our imagination to find substitutes in the nature, or make do with other stuff on hand. I remembered that I used to love reading Robinson Crusoe, and Thoreau's Walden. I was amazed at their resourcefulness, and at the fact that we can live happily and well without most of the stuff in our lives. I admired their ways but was unable to follow suit. I started to reflect on my relationship with my stuff, the things that I call mine. They were invented by others, and created by others, transported to me by others, and yet I call them mine because I paid for them. The feeling of possession makes us feel good. Some of the things we buy to make our lives easier, while some of the things we buy to impress others. We judge others by the things they use and have, and in turn be judged by others in the same way. Since when are we defined by the things around us? Since when do we work our asses off for things we were not born with and cannot take away with us when we leave this world? I started to see things in a new light. We talk about the breaking free of the soul from the limitations of the body, but we should be more aware of the danger of the dominance by material things and the prevalence of consumerism. Things are created to serve us, not the other way around. As luck has it, I stumbled upon the book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up written by Japanese author Marie Kondo. I was trembling with excitement as I read through the book, because she touched on truths that I have suspected but was unable to formulate: tidying up means that you keep things for the reason that they spark joy in your life, and for no other reason; the use of space is not for your past self, but for your future self; picture yourself in your ideal home before you start, think of what kind of life you want to lead; the things you possess represent your attitude towards life. It dawned on me that my hoarding problem originates from the obsession with my past and the fear of uncertainty and scarcity in the future. The boxes of useless sentimental keepsakes, the large stock of tissues, paper, notebooks are quite telling. And these truths are far more valuable than the tips of actual tidying up. The essence is to understand who I really am, what the most important things in my life are, what kind of life I want to lead, and what gives me joy. Once we are clear about these, it will be quite easy to decide what stuff we want to keep and what to discard. The overflowing mess we used to have, not only held us down by emanating an atmosphere of depression and negativity, but also stopped us from seeing what really matters to us in life. And it does not mean that you have to throw away almost everything you have right now, but to examine the stuff carefully, and only keep the things that spark joy. I know that feeling. Every time I use my best set of tableware, take a photo with my favorite camera, or read my favorite book, I feel like singing inside. That's the kind of life I want, being surrounded by stuff I love, people I love, and doing things I love. It is a liberating feeling, free from the shackles imposed on us by our own desires and fears. It pains me to think that many people are also struggling with the mess around them, not knowing what to do with it and feeling pessimistic about their own capability of tidying up. I recommend every one to read this book, gain perspective about your relationship with yourself and your belongings, and lead a happy life knowing clearly what you want in life.(Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 17:00, Aug 22, 2016) About Author: Helen, a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

So far I have finished watching three fourths of the films in the 2016 Banff Mountain Film Festival. I heard of it some time ago and I'm glad that I have the chance to actually watch it in the theater. I watched people do all sorts of extreme sports: mountain biking, skiing, surfing, kayaking, rock climbing, wingsuiting, base jumping...It became a very emotional experience for me when I saw an adventure photographer spending 4 years and a half trying to take a photo of someone base jumping against an amazing landscape, a son trying to reconnect with his father by bringing his old father back to the Colorado river where he once kayaked, a father teaching his young son to build mountain bike tracks and riding with him, a guy doing parkour in the city and fields as if he had wings on his feet, a few nine-to-fivers attempting a crazy ski trip in a weekend, people breaking out of their mundane life and seeking a lifelong passion, people trying to find a connection to the nature and thus to themselves. I ask myself, why do people find such passion in extreme sports? What makes them so addictive to these sports that they come back for more even in the face of injuries and death? I think the answer is manifold. These sports bring us closer to nature, and in nature we learn more about its power and our frailty. We are both humbled and awed at its power and beauty. We realize that the natural forces can easily kill us and at the same time give us chances to do great things. Sometimes we must toil, we must blend into nature to see its real beauty. And it's not just about nature. It's about us and other people too. When we are doing sports we lay down the disguises we normally wear, we become true to ourselves, we discover the things in our heart that we ignored, we push ourselves outside the comfort zone and are excited to see more potentials in us, we form deep relationships with the people that we travel with, that we go through life and death with. In extreme sports we are forced to face our hearts, because we are completely responsible for our choices and decisions. We undergo physical ordeal to gain a stronger heart and confidence in ourselves. We must face our fears, use them and turn them into courage. That's why I often see a streak of craziness in those people, because they always battle with their own fears and in the end their passions and wills always triumph. And sports are often useless. We cannot make money from it. But the most important things in life are often useless in an economic sense. It is the people doing useless things that makes this world a better and more interesting place. So what is freedom? So many people I know complain of their jobs, and I see many people online saying they want to quit their job and go travel the world. It seems that quitting the job and travelling the world is the answer. But I always have my doubts about the benefits of travelling the world. Will it just miraculously give you an eureka moment and change your life? Will it make you feel free? I think every one who watched these films will feel inspired in one way or another, but comes tomorrow they will still do what they normally do. In most cases we have to work to support ourselves and our family, we cannot all become pro athletes, we might not even be good at the things we love to do. But I realize that the feeling of lack of freedom does not come from visible restrictions on us. Freedom is not about quitting your job, escaping from your city, or even breaking away from the other people or the society's opinions on you. It is about breaking free of your own restrictions on yourself. You can complain about a life forced on you, but no one can hold you down if you refuse to be held down, and no one can keep you shackled forever if you are determined to break the chains. I, like many other people, tend to have negative thoughts. Whatever idea I come up with, the first things that jump into my mind are "what ifs" and "worst scenarios". I see this mentality often in others too. They always speak of dangers and impossibilities. They don't think others should do anything that they themselves cannot do or don't want to do. We have all been told of what we cannot do one time or another in our lives. But the real danger is not in those negative voices, it is in the negative voice in our own heart that comes from all the restrictions and warnings we received. In a sense, doing sports, especially extreme sports, forces us to challenge ourselves and the negative voice in our heart. Prove others wrong; prove your old self wrong. No one tells you what you can do or what you cannot do. I think that is the ultimate freedom. I cannot forget the hearty laughter of those people who have just completed something seemingly impossible, the glimmers of light in their eyes. Those are rare things, and in my opinion the reason for our search for freedom.(Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 22:35 July 9th, 2016) About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

My father was born in a village of a northern province in China, the same village of my mother’s. He has two elder brothers and two younger sisters. Since my grandmother held that education is the only way out for the children born in the countryside, all three boys were sent to school despite the family’s poverty. But when my father graduated from middle school, the Cultural Revolution started which required schools to stop enrolling students, so he had to join the army like many other young people at that time. Being literate and able to write articles quite well, he was assigned to write articles, correspondences, memos, speeches, newsletters and other documents in the army. After three years in the army, he was transferred to work in one of the top factories that manufacture machine tools in China. Naturally my father became the head of a team of clerical assistants who specialized in writing articles. But the manufacturing itself attracted him more, so he applied to become a worker. With the leaders’ permission, he went to the workplace immediately. Under the instruction of some senior workers and with a few books and some practice, he mastered the job of this field within months, a task which could take others three years. A year later, he became one of the most productive workers in the factory, and whenever there were difficult tasks, he would be called upon to deal with them. My mother came to the city when my father was a worker and got in touch with him, because their families knew each other in the village. Later they got married and had me and my younger brother. My father started to revolve his life around us, teaching us things and playing with us after work. He is a hands-on person. He used to make things for us such as kites, bows, lanterns, wood carvings, stone puzzles, etc. He seemed all-powerful in our young hearts. He also taught us to play all kinds of board games. It was the most carefree time of my life when we played those games during summer vacations at home under a big squeaky fan. Being himself a fervent fan and good player of table tennis, my father started teaching us table tennis before we could even remember. I can still recall many summer afternoons when we practiced table tennis outside. The wind was still and the cicadas were loud. Popsicle was often used as incentives or rewards for a good practice. Sometimes mom would show up with a big watermelon or some water just when we were feeling extremely thirsty. We would sit on stools among the trees and gorge on the watermelon, and we would discuss the imperfections of my techniques and necessary improvements. Those were very small joys in life, but in retrospect they were perfect. My parents tried their best to teach us integrity by their own examples, and they taught us valuable life lessons. My father, in particular, likes to give us speeches with vivid examples whenever we are at home. Those speeches often went on for hours until we fell asleep in the sofa or until my mother shouted to us “dinner is ready”, thankfully. Sometimes I would say to him: “Dad, you told me this so many times already, so why bother repeating them?” or "I read this in books a long time ago. I know what to do." And he would say “It is one thing to know it, but it is another to do it. I'm repeating to you so you don't forget. Have you done these things as I told you?” After hearing a reluctant “not yet”, he would gladly resume the speeches. My father is the kind of man who does not require many material things. He was a good worker all his life, excelling in the things he does. He did not seek extra profit or tried to think of ways to make big money. He remained candid and upright in a stubborn way even though more sophistication could have brought him more in his career. He follows his heart and does whatever makes him happy. What little extra money he had, he devoted to his hobbies. Now he has retired for over ten years, and he is leading a very happy retired life playing table tennis, playing Go online, investing in stocks, riding a bike, and watching news and sports on the TV. He is not a perfect man. As I grow up, he is growing old. When I start to regard him as an independent individual with many social identities instead of just my father, I realize that each person is complicated and has his own shortcomings, that there are so many things I do not know about my father, that he can be quite different from the man in my memories, that he is not all-powerful after all, and that he too needs consolation and protection for his heartaches and grief. Sometimes he can’t hear me clearly when I talk too fast on the phone; sometimes he forgets to wear enough clothes and he gets a cold; sometimes he panics like a child when the computer is not responding as it is supposed to be; sometimes he makes annoying comments on current events because deep down he is still the conservative and stubborn man. Sometimes I feel that we are not as close as before because of the distance and because I'm a grownup responsible for my own life, but once when I cried at home, and he saw the wet tissues I threw all over the floor, he came and consoled me with such soft and pained voice, and wiped my tears, I realized that my affectionate and loving father is still here, when I need him. It is time to accept that our parents have their own lives, and their own happiness to pursue, but they will always look after us and they will not go far.(Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 16:35 June 20th, 2016) About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

In the May Holiday I went on a trip to hike across the Kubuqi desert in Inner Mongolia for three days, camping in the small campsites at night. It is a popular hiking destination at this time of the year, not too hot in the day and not too cold at night. I knew that hiking in the desert would be more difficult than hiking on flat grounds, but I could not have imagined the ubiquitous presence of fine grains of sands in the air and how wonderful it feels to be standing on a sand dune and looking at the horizon at a distance. The whole hiking trip is 55km long, around 20km for each day. The first two days were cloudy, which was a blessing for us because we wouldn't need to carry too much water with us on cloudy days. Wind is constant in the desert. It's particularly windy at the top of the sand dunes. It was almost impossible to take out my camera for photos because the sand finds its way into every tiny gap and corner. I could only use my phone occasionally for photos. All of us were fully covered from top to toe, but at the end of day we still find sand under the collars and inside the bags. The eyes are the most at peril in the desert, not only from the sunlight, but also from the sand. There is always a thin layer of sand on my face around the eyes, sticking to the sweat. I had to squint all the way to prevent the sand from drifting into my eyes. My hands were cracking under the heat and dryness and lack of moisturizer. On the third day the sun came out, and I grew to like walking in the sand and started to have the confidence to take an alternative route from the team. At first it's very difficult, because your feet slip at every step, and you have to exert more effort if you want to walk at the normal speed. But once you get the hang of it, especially when you walk on the back or side of the sand dunes, you automatically know how to adjust the angle of your feet to keep balance, and you fall in love with the softness that meets your sole. There is nothing much better than making a trail of footprints on an untouched piece of sand. There is only the patterns of waves left by the wind, and you feel that you are the first person in the whole universe to step on that piece of sand. Although it is much easier to walk in other people's footprints in the sand, you still get tempted to go on your own way and make your own marks. The footprints are gone very soon with the fierceness of the wind, and no trace of you will be left, but it doesn't matter. All it matters is that you were there. Walking down the sand dunes, especially tall ones, is another excitement. You get addicted to it. You walk as if in slow motion, but covering more ground as you go. The trick is to dig your heels deep into the sand and keep the center of gravity at your heels. Once as a group of us walked down the dune together, we accidentally triggered a deep vibration under our feet. The vibration sounded like a deep musical instrument, or a huge wild animal snoring. It is said that only a good combination of certain strength and alignment of walking, moistness of the sand, and other factors can produce this vibration. When I stood on the top of a sand dune, looking at the horizon, all I could see were sands around me. It was just the blue sky and the sand, nothing more. The sand dunes rolled on and on, without an end, like a symphony, or a nice tune. I felt like part of the sand, part of the earth. This is what I love about going hiking. I do not feel like this when I'm in the city surrounded by buildings and people. In nature, we become more ourselves, closer to who we are, where we come from. We feel at peace. But there was little time and energy for me to think about anything grand and noble. I had to focus on the sand beneath my feet, the direction I'm going, and how I can make a path. I guess the musings and deep thoughts happen afterwards, not on the road. On the road you only think of walking on, and satisfying your basic needs of food and water. The most prominent feeling all the way, was an insatiable thirst, no matter how much and how often I drank. My body and throat yearns for more. I shuddered to think how terrible it is if someone is trapped in the desert without enough water. There are few varieties of fruits or vegetables available in the desert. Green leafy vegetables are nowhere to be found. The most common vegetables are tomatoes and cucumbers, and those were almost the only source of vitamin for us during those three days. I can't imagine how people live there with such a short supply of various vegetables and fruits. There is no tap water in the desert. The locals have to drive to certain towns nearby to transport water in big white barrels. Since water is in limited supply, showering is out of the question, and we had to use as little water as possible for washing our faces and brushing teeth. It is sad that what we consider as the most ordinary things in our lives are a luxury to some others. Even days after I was back from the desert, I could still find traces of sand in my clothes, bags and on the floor. I don't think I would go back to the desert again, but it was a very special experience in my life, and living life means having interesting experiences.(Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 12:30 June 1st, 2016) About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

What happened on April 23? During the Chinese New Year I saw a post on wechat calling for people to take part in the E.G.G. Walkathon--walking 50km in 12 hours to raise money for underprivileged children in China. The money will be used to help children in areas of nutrition and health, social assimilation, safety and protection, and education and learning. I made up my mind immediately that I wanted to join, because it will be a good deed and a challenge for me too. I called my brother and cousin right away and "recruited" them to my team "Love for Charity", and soon two more friends joined. I'm writing down this experience so that people browsing this website who would like to help the children can find a way. The walk is set on April 23, a Saturday. One week before that, we decided to do a trial walk of 30km, and we designed the itinerary to match the theme of this program. On the day itself, it was raining the whole day, but all of us persevered through the rain despite the wet clothes and squeaky shoes. Out of 3843 people coming for this walk, 2718 have completed the whole 50km. My team was among them. The last 10km was particularly painful because most of us got blisters on our feet and leg pains, but no one said anything about giving up. If you have to ask what was going on in my mind at that time, I could not give any noble or grand reasons. The only reason would be that we had to finish what we started no matter how painful it is. As we hobbled towards the destination, the volunteers were already waiting to congratulate us. Each of us received a medal to mark this achievement. It was a walk of personal challenge and social gain. Although right now I'm still resting at home because of leg pains, it is all worth it. What is E.G.G. Walkathon? E.G.G. represents Enjoy, Give, Go, and also refers to the original fundraising project that donated money for children to eat one egg a day. This activity started in 2011, and this is the sixth year. Over the past five years, this program has raised over 22.5 million RMB, funded 101 non-governmental organizations and 155 children's welfare programs, benefiting over 280,000 children and teenagers. Each year this event is covered by media including Xinhuanet, Shanghai online, Public Welfare of China, Media China, etc. The program of this year has already raised over 7 million RMB and is still rising every second. Who is Shanghai United Foundation? Regrettably the Foundation does not have an English website yet, but its official website is http://www.lianquan.org.cn/. The Shanghai United Foundation was established in December 2009. Its mission is joint fundraising and support of non-governmental public benefit organizations. Its vision is to build an environment of mutual trust, cooperation and sustainable development for the non-governmental public benefit sector. The Foundation initiates activities both online and off-line for the public and companies to participate and raise money from their friends and family, donates the money to selected non-governmental charity organizations, supervises the usage of their funds, receives feedback of the projects, and raises people's awareness of helping each other. Where does the money go? Most of the money will be used to continue to fund up to 38 existing programs in areas of children's nutrition and health, social assimilation, safety and protection, and education and learning. Apart from that, it will be used to help the non-governmental organizations to improve their capabilities of mobilizing resources, and to provide functional support to those organizations (including auditing, consulting, etc.). Other new programs will focus on underprivileged children. A project review board will evaluate and decide the usage of the money, which will be open to the public. How do I donate to the children? The website is all in Chinese, so I made a step-by-step guide (my comments are in the red boxes) for foreigners who are interested in helping children in China. I hope this guide helps. If there is any question, please send me a message through this website or to my mailbox (helenriver1414@sina.com). We deeply appreciate your kindness no matter what the donation amount is. As the slogan of my team goes: A small token of kindness kindles hope. Please browse the following website and follow the guide for donation. The receiving account belongs to Shanghai United Foundation. If you have donated, please leave me a message, so that I can keep you informed of the usage of the money later. http://home.lianquan.org/tools/FundBox_ShowFundBox?id=8840#(Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 22:00, April 25, 2016)About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

I have not traveled much by plane, but every time I would choose the window seat, no matter how long the flight is. Peeking out of the small window feels like a very exciting thing to me. I could stare at clouds for hours and not get bored. At night I would try to block all the lights reflecting on the window and strain my eyes to see the stars above. Each flight trip offered me something new and fascinating. Arriving at a city in the night or early morning feels like creeping up on it in its most vulnerable moment. I like looking at cities at night from the sky. The lights are like littering gold and pieces of diamonds. The city looks almost lifeless from above, no movement, no sound at all, so tranquil. It looks like an artwork, the main roads leading into the city like tentacles. When you are close enough, you can sometimes see cars moving with their headlights on. They follow the roads into darkness. Without the hustle and bustle of the day, you see the peaceful side of the cities, the essence. You feel people's content when they are sleeping soundly and you feel people's tiredness and anticipation to go home when they are on the road. The city will not reject you in darkness. On the contrary, when you wake up next morning, it welcomes you like a full blossom with its most authentic fragrance, and you feel like a part of it already. When I was flying back to Shanghai from Kuala Lumpur, I deliberately selected the window seat on the right in order to see the sunrise. I had a restless sleep that night on the plane because I don't sleep well in unfamiliar places. I removed my eye masks a few times during my sleep to see if I could see stars. Luck was not with me that day. I woke up again around five in the morning and looked out of the window and was suddenly breathless by the scene outside. The crescent moon was just above the horizon, beside the wing of the plane. The horizon was a strip of dark blue, in contrast to the black clouds beneath the plane. I squeezed my eyes a few times to make them open wider and moved closer to the window until my glasses bumped against it. All the other passengers were sleeping soundly around me. I looked around and saw open mouths and some people were even snoring lightly. The plane was by no way quiet but looking at the moon and the horizon I felt as if I were alone, in a good way. Somehow I did not want anyone else to be awake. The plane glided through, but the moon remained in the same place. That blue was the most beautiful and pure blue I had ever seen. I looked and looked, as much as my tired eyes could allow, and almost wanted to break the window and reach out. I felt like a kid seeing something fantastic and amazing when all the grown-ups ignored it. In darkness I became part of the scene, entirely in wonder. I wanted that moment to stop and become a secret of mine forever. In about ten minutes, the sky became brighter considerably. Lights came on and stewardesses started moving about. The moment was gone. People sitting in my row looked out and started to take photos. I was dragged back into the human world, my connection with the scene outside completely cut off by the lights and noise. I came to understand that sometimes natural wonders can only be fully enjoyed when you are alone, because no human words or expressions could describe it. Maybe I was amazed by these simple things because I didn't travel much and did not need my sleep desperately to be energetic for a meeting. But I like to look at things that people don't look at, and see beauty in it.(Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 23:10, April 24, 2016) About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

It is not just my generation, but many of them that are lost, not knowing what we want and who we are. I have seen my friends and experienced myself struggle in making the big decisions in marriage and career. I know people who are changing jobs constantly because they don't know what they like to do, and they cannot find a balance between the things they like and the things they can do for a living. I also know people who are stuck in a job that makes them very unhappy, but not knowing what else they can or want to do. I see young people fresh out of college asking their elders eagerly whether they should find a job or continue their education, whether they should stay in the big city, or go back to their hometown, whether they should do something challenging and well-paid, or something safe and comfortable. I witness young couples tying the knot rashly but divorcing just a few months later because of some trivia. I have also seen many couples in my parents' generation fight every day, have opposite values, cannot stand each other, but still cling to the phantom of a family or marriage, afraid of changing the status quo. It can be said that my generation was the first that did not experience the most difficult years of China. Most of us are the only child in the family. We have been raised up with the others telling us what to do, the parents, the school, the teachers, the relatives, the friends, the society, even strangers. We become puppets and live in other people's expectations and notions. We get into someone else's role and mistake it for our own. Gradually we have lost the ability to make our own decisions and choices. When we are thrown onto the crossroads of life, we panic and seek advice from others, and once again, have fallen prey to other people's values and beliefs. When we were little, what we like or want is irrelevant to our life. The paths have been set out for us, and it is easy to just follow the path without questioning it. And we did not have much time to explore our likes and dislikes with all the homework and exams. We stopped asking unanswerable questions of why. Now that we are older, when we feel lost, we bury ourselves or distract ourselves by entertainment and information to avoid thinking at all. So instead of inspiring action, the feeling of listlessness leads to distraction. There is always a new game to play, a new shopping mall to go to, a new movie to watch. There are countless joys in the world and more being created every second, enough to distract us for a lifetime. The thinking muscle, if left unused for a long time due to external reasons, will be voluntarily ignored later. There is no better time to emphasize the importance of independent thinking. Without it, we will live forever under the shadow of others, and get lost in the web of untruths and subjective values. We live to become the person that others want us to become, we marry someone that others think matches us, we go do a job that is envied by others. We want to follow our heart, but the heart has not uttered a word in eons and has forgotten how to speak. By building "our life" fervently, we finally left the small flame inside our heart that defines our uniqueness ignored and extinguished. Without independent thinking, we become vulnerable to the outside world, exposed to whatever information or values that happen to bump into us. This is exacerbated by the growth of the internet age. The crowds online can be easily manipulated and instigated, since there are so many ways to shield the truth and appeal to people's emotion rather than reason. Different generations may be lost for different reasons. The older generation may be shackled by the collective mindset due to the special historical and political reasons, and they barely had any time or will to look inside their heart. They accept and endure suffering, be it a repetitive and meaningless job or a spouse they never truly loved. My generation escaped from the terrible material shortage. We were given a lot of attention in the family but lonely. We have more opportunities and choices than our parents, but there is not much experience for us to borrow from. The new generation is born with the accessibility of all the information and technology of the new age and fairly abundant material wealth. Things are too easy for them so it has become harder for them to discover the purpose and meaning of life. If we want to make a fundamental change in our lives and in the society, we need to cultivate independent thinking from a young age. Essentially, knowing what we want, what kind of people we love, what we want to do for our life, is the first step towards knowing what a society we want to build. Change must come from within. Thinking independently, is not about conforming to the society or being different. It is about seeking the truth, and doing what we think is right, whether it's easy or hard, applauded or denounced. (Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 23:50, March 7, 2016) About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

Every girl has a dream of the prince charming in shining armor with sparkling eyes and a killer smile. But it takes a girl some time to realize that the perfect guy she dreams of is just like the perfect dress or shoes in display that may not actually look perfect on her. She may finally understand that love is not the pursuit of the best person in the world, because if so, then love would become mathematics, only the equation of the qualities that an eligible person has. And love would be impossible if everyone wants the best person. So ultimately love is about a good match, about finding a partner, about the right person for you and only for you. Some people think that the “left-over women” cannot find a husband because they often have excessively high criteria, and that they would eventually find someone if they are willing to lower their criteria. And in those people’s eyes, the criteria are no more than looks, money, educational background, etc. It would be useless and utterly unimaginable to explain to those people that the so-called criteria are not everything that matters. There can be something that is harder to meet than those standards. At least the worldly standards are not so difficult to measure and compare. You can even rate each candidate and choose the one with the highest points. But feelings, are the most elusive and inexplicable thing. You can hardly describe what qualities in a man that will make your heart miss a beat, or suddenly breathless, or feel like lightning strikes. Sometimes it is not even a particular quality that makes you have that feeling. It may be as trivial as a smile, a look, a sentence, a sigh, the way he walks towards you, the sound of your name on his lips, the profile of his face against the sunset, a brief moment of vulnerability, or a burst of courage. Love is so different from other things in our lives. It is detached from reason, from sensibility, and it is not solely decided by yourself. You can say it is influenced by your determination, by chance, luck or even fate. There are too many things that might change it, and too many things that you cannot control. It is not purely independent of the worldly troubles or worries. But faced with all the uncertainty and the possibility that we might get hurt, what else is there to do except to follow your heart, to plunge into the darkness and have faith that you will either find someone that will hold your hand firmly and walk with you through the darkness or emerge stronger with the capability of facing the darkness by yourself. Be it joy or pain, love is always a winning battle. In happiness, you shall have the luck of the world and glide through life with spirit and courage. In pain, you shall understand the miseries of others fully and see the other side of the world as you have never seen before, with empathy and sympathy. Whenever love happens, embrace it. It does not happen to everyone. Be glad that you have the capacity to love and to make someone else happy. The biggest power in the world is love, because it holds the secret to happiness and pain at the same time. True love does not trap you or hold you down. It sets you free and makes you fly higher. It might not last for your whole life, but it will benefit your whole life. It makes you into the best person you can become, with or without him. And at the end of life, you will not fear death, because you have lived a fulfilled life, you have loved deeply and have been loved deeply. (Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 11:05am, Feb 10th, 2016) About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

What is a better time to write than when the heart is in anguish? Words fail me when I am overwhelmed by joy the heart says: leave me, there is no room for the clowns who are but a poor representation of real feelings; when pain strikes, the heart panics and seeks the words: please, dance for me, dance into a river, in your flow the pain does abate.(Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 10:50am, Feb. 10th, 2016) About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com

I have seen eyes of many colors, Black, the most common, Brown, honest and reliable, Blue, innocent and unsettling, Even artificial red, eerie and cunning. But green, I searched and searched, no single word can sum it up. A shade less than emerald, without the sparkles, Unlike the pond, where lies the ensnaring aquatic plants and deep secrets. What is it, really? It’s the early tender leaves braving the latest howling winter wind, the herald of life, the color breaking the gloom. It’s the rich grass that grows on a prairie, together with white and yellow daisies, all things sprightly and breezy. It’s the pure and tranquil heart, that once had thrills and sorrows, has seen the ugliness and beauty of life, yet remains true to itself. But the color of the eyes does not matter after all, What matters is the kindness and compassion behind the eyes, not what they see, but what they speak.(Original work by the author Helen; first published on China Daily blog at 10:45am, Feb. 10th, 2016) About Author: Helen, currently a freelance translator in Shanghai. Loves reading and writing and everything related to languages. If you would like to forward or share this blog, please contact the author at helenriver1414@sina.com