自由。

上次po的這篇文章前面的部份沒有po出來
所以重新再po一次。
基本上用的英文並不太難，是篇很好的文章，有興趣的人可以再看一次

In my sophomore year, I take two more of his courses. We go beyond the classroom, meeting now and then just to talk. I have never done this before with an adult who was not a relative, yet I feel comfortable doing it with Morrie, and he seems comfortable making the time.

"Where shall we visit today?" he asks cheerily when I enter his office.

In the spring, we sit under a tree outside the sociology building, and in the winter, we sit by his desk, me in my gray sweatshirts and Adidas sneakers, Morrie in Rockport shoes and corduroy pants.

Each time we talk, he listens to me ramble, then he tries to pass on some sort of life lesson. He warns me that money is not the most important thing, contrary to the popular view on campus. He tells me I need to be "full human." He speaks of the alienation of youth and the need for "connectedness" with the society around me.

Some of these things I understand, some I do not. It makes no difference. The discussions give me an excuse to talk to him, fatherly conversations I cannot have with my own father, who would like mw to be a lawyer.

Morrie hates lawyers.

"What do you want to do when you get out of college?" he asks.

I want to be a musician, I say. Piano player.

"Wonderful," he says. "But that's a hard life."

Yeah.

"A lot of sharks."

That's what I hear.

"Still," he says, "if you really want it, then you'll make your dream happen."

I want to hug him, to thank him for saying that, but I am not that open. I only nod instead.

"I'll bet you play piano with a lot of pep," he says.

I laugh. Pep?

He laughs back. "Pep. What's the matter? They don't say that anymore?"


"Have I told you about the tension of opposites?" he says.

The tension of opposites?

"Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn't. You take certain thing for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted."

"A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle."

Sounds like a wrestling match, I say.

"A wrestling match." He laughs. "Yes, you could describe life that way."

So which side wins? I ask.

"Which side wins?"

He smiles at me, the crinkled eyes, the crooked teeth.
"Love wins. Love always wins."