Selflessness is the realm of unity.

The knife holder is on the neck and does not look back, not self-forgetfulness. If it is for the sake of truth and affection, it is righteousness. If it's for the trivial things of life, it's a tough head. The cone and thorn strands, the head overhang, and the food and drink are not self-forgetfulness, but the necessity for a person to grow up. Lei Feng's kind of selflessness, specializing in benefiting others, is not selfless, it is a good deed, and it is a accumulation of virtue. When a person does these good deeds, he should not screw the tone too high, and he should not be linked to political consciousness, otherwise it is easy to be fake. Putting down the butcher's knife and becoming a Buddha does not mean doing good, but enlightenment. Epiphany is self-forgetfulness.

There is also the saying of the big self and the small self. I see and I see everything. The greater self saw me and witnessed me in all things. The ego and the ego are opposites, not thieves and policemen, not doctors and patients. The ego is awake, I think, therefore I am. The big self is the forgetfulness of the self, and it is the forgetting of the two things. When Zhuangzi talks about self-forgetfulness, he uses the words "mourning self" and "hidden machine". Thinking about it in detail, it's really very thorough.

In literary writing, we must prevent false forgetfulness. What is false forgetfulness? Let's give you an example. For example, when an erhu actor is playing on stage, he shakes his head and is intoxicated while shaking his head while doing his hands, which means that "I" am awake and performing.

Then excerpt three paragraphs from Mr. Yang Shuo's "The Extreme Peak of Mount Tai", which was written in 1959.

There are two little pheasants competing for water, kicking over the water bowl, running to the bluestone slab, and many small "a" characters are printed on the slate. I couldn't help but look at this lonely family in the mountains and think, "There is a big collective under the mountain, and they are still living this kind of individual life, so they are too isolated from the world, right?"

I was quietly meditating, and the old Taoist politely apologized, saying that the other Taoist priests had gone down the mountain to cut wheat, and he was left alone, and he didn't care about boiling water for us to drink. I asked him who he was harvesting the wheat for, and the old man said, "Commune." Don't look at the east and west households on the mountain, they are all organized into the commune. ”

Some companions think that not being able to see the sunrise is always a bit of a fly in the ointment. Comrade, what are you not satisfied with? In fact, we clearly see another and more brilliant sunrise. This dawn leaped out of the horizon of our national history, shining with ten thousand red rays of light and shining into this world.

Mr. Yang Shuo was persecuted to death in August 1968, and the cause of death is still vague. There are three kinds, one is the statement of the rebels back then, "Yang Shuo committed suicide because he didn't understand the '**'". The second is that "the medical records of Beijing Hospital show that Yang Shuo died of pneumonia". Third, after the rehabilitation in 1980, Xinhua News Agency reported, "Comrade Yang Shuo was persecuted by Lin Biao's '***' ultra-'left' line, and unfortunately died unjustly on August 3, 1968, at the age of 55 (actually 58 years old)." How did Mr. Yang Shuo's "creative ideas" come into being at that stage? You can refer to a self-review he wrote in 1956. "There are serious shortcomings and mistakes in my political thinking and creative thinking, and I am far, far away from the instructions of Chairman Mao's "Speech at the Yan'an Forum on Literature and Art". No, some views and descriptions are completely contrary to Chairman Mao's instructions, and it is necessary to continue to reform ourselves in the struggle and integrate well with the workers, peasants and soldiers, so that it is possible to write something that serves the workers, peasants and soldiers. Re-read the old work, ashamed to die!" This passage is not a statement at the meeting, but a self-knowledge written on the title page of one of my portfolios.

Reading this passage, and then connecting with the ending of Mr. Yang Shuo's life, I really feel sad. The years in which he lived were collectively distorted, and in the age of absurdity, even the greatest characters could not escape the small, because the times were small.