The sprout's appearance brought A-Tu not only joy but also an even stronger emotion he had never experienced before—fear.
He was afraid that this fragile seedling, which held all his hopes, would be gnawed on by a wild rabbit, trampled by a passerby, or destroyed by a sudden hailstorm.
So, he began to build a fence. At first, it was just a few simple wooden stakes. Gradually, his stakes grew closer together, and the fence grew taller. He used all of his savings to buy materials and all his time to reinforce this "defense line."
He stopped going to town for work because he didn't dare leave the young plant for even half a day. He refused the old carpenter's invitation to gather mushrooms in the mountains and turned down Xiao-Ye's kind offer to lend him a new book. His world quickly shrank until it was just that small plot of land within the fence, which he watched over with fierce intensity.
His most important task each day was to squat beside the seedling, measure its height, count its leaves, and shoo away every insect that came near. He was no longer happy because of the cultivation but was anxious because of "possession" and "protection."
That fence protected his property, but it also imprisoned him. He was like the crowned miser on the card, tightly clutching his four pentacles, with his back to the bustling world behind him, thinking this was safety. He didn't know that when resources stop flowing, they are no longer wealth but just heavy, cold stones.
【Echo from the Mirror】
What kind of "fence" have you built for yourself? Is it to protect your possessions, your beliefs, or your sense of security? While this fence protects you, does it also make you miss the scenery outside and cut you off from new possibilities?