拖延到三月过了一周才开始写上一个月的总结。
二月过了和没过差不多。本来就比别的月份少两天，还因为过年显得更短了。二月去了一趟三亚，见了长辈们，吃了三亚特产，在海里开跑车骑摩托，在森林里漂流，在沙滩椰林漫步看夕阳。看看春晚，看看烟花，顺便长了一岁。吃了很多家常菜，包了很多饺子。
剩下在太原的时间基本待业在家–偷摸着帮同事干点活，白天看看书，读读经，看看剧，弹弹吉他，健健身，晚上遛遛狗，和父母追追各种节目，教教他们弹吉他。和爸妈在影院看了四部春节档电影，准备看第五部。娱乐生活很丰富。
但在空荡荡的屋子只有一人一狗的时候，会躺在床上焦虑未来。越是看到落户审批一层一层通过，越是思考在不久的将来，回到美国，我该做出怎样的改变，这两个多月的休息到底能不能让我精力充沛地再出发。想得太多到最后剩下的大多是挫败感。拼命列举这些天到底成就了些什么，但只能无奈承认大多是无所事事消磨时间。
没有什么时候比无所事事时更能体会到时间的流逝。忙的时候还能把时间和成就联系在一起获得充实感，觉得时间是有意义的被花费着；闲着的时候就只能眼睁睁看着抓不住时间的手，感叹还有很长的路要走。28岁是一个你做什么也not so impressive的年龄。不是一个小小年纪竟然做成了什么事儿的年龄，而是你到了这个岁数该做成什么事儿的年龄。那我又被谁定义着什么该与不该？
落户的事情终于到了结尾，看起来国内躺平生活也要画上句号了。准备回到纽约重启工作。不断请求主给我力气再次出发。感谢家人朋友的陪伴，感谢能好好休息一段时间。
拍拍自己，成功坚持了月记。真不容易。
三月加油！
Below is a Google Gemini-generated English translation. I did not edit afterwards.
It is already a week into March, and I am only just dragging myself to write last month’s summary.
February passed as if it never happened at all. It is already two days shorter than the other months, and the Lunar New Year made it feel even more fleeting. I took a trip to Sanya, visited my elders, and tasted the local specialties. I drove “sports cars” and rode motorcycles on the ocean, went drifting through the forest, and strolled through coconut groves on the beach while watching the sunset. I watched the Spring Festival Gala, saw the fireworks, and incidentally turned a year older. I ate plenty of home-cooked meals and wrapped a lot of dumplings.
The rest of my time in Taiyuan was spent essentially “unemployed” at home—quietly helping colleagues with some tasks, reading books and scriptures during the day, watching shows, playing the guitar, and working out. In the evenings, I walked the dog, watched various programs with my parents, and taught them how to play the guitar. My parents and I watched four films from the Spring Festival season at the cinema, with a fifth one planned. My entertainment life was rich, to say the least.
Yet, when the house grew empty and there was only me and the dog, I would lie in bed and feel anxious about the future. The more I saw the layers of approval for my household registration (Hukou) passing one by one, the more I pondered the near future: once I return to the U.S., what changes must I make? Will these two months of rest truly allow me to set off again with renewed energy? I thought so much that I was mostly left with a sense of frustration. I desperately tried to list what I had achieved during these days, only to helplessly admit that most of it was spent idly whiling away the time.
There is no time one feels the flow of time more acutely than when doing nothing. When busy, one can link time with achievements to gain a sense of fulfillment, feeling that time is being spent meaningfully. When idle, one can only watch helplessly as time slips through one’s fingers, sighing that there is still such a long road ahead. Twenty-eight is an age where nothing you do is particularly “impressive” anymore. It is no longer an age where people say, “Look what they achieved at such a young age,” but rather an age where people expect you to have achieved certain things. But then, who is defining these “shoulds” and “should-nots” for me?
The Hukou process is finally reaching its end, and it seems my “lying flat” life in China is drawing to a close. I am preparing to return to New York to restart my work. I find myself constantly asking the Lord to give me the strength to set off once more. I am grateful for the companionship of my family and friends, and thankful that I could rest well for a while.
A pat on the back for myself: I successfully stuck to my monthly journal. That was not easy.
March, let’s go!
