To be fast does not mean to be hasty.
It means that instant of sincerity — before thought becomes tangled, before the world rushes in — when one first discerns one’s true heart. In that moment, intention is at its purest, and at its most real. If we delay too long, until the confusion of the world begins to engulf us, fear and hesitation may drown out that newborn sincerity. And if that happens, we lose our root in the world. For the causes and effects of life are not meant to leave us merely reacting to things, but to let us act as subjects of our own lives, and to manifest our choices.
And “slow,” on the other hand, is necessary on another level. Though the heart may be true, words and actions often fail to match it completely. Human beings are not infinite gods; our speech and our gestures inevitably fall short. Yet it is precisely within this gap that we are given the chance to reveal ourselves. That is why we must slow down, and face these moments with care: Will my actions allow the other person to see my true heart? Will my words allow them to witness who I am? To be slow is to let love take on a fuller form.
I often think that between people, we truly can sense one another’s hearts. We can also sense our own. But these feelings can never be fully understood, nor can our inner worlds ever become completely transparent. Otherwise, life itself would lose its reason for being. It is precisely because of this that language appears so clumsy, and yet so indispensable. It is singular, even impoverished, but it remains the only bridge we have. Because it is incomplete, we misunderstand; because it is incomplete, we grieve. Yet this does not mean that silence is the answer. On the contrary, it reminds us to speak more: to ask how the other person feels, to explain how we feel, to say what we long to say, and to confirm what they may be worried about.
Of course, there are times when silence, or non-action, truly is wisdom. But if we are to speak, then we should speak more from the heart.
我想，做事要快，也要慢。
所谓快，不是仓促。
是那一刹那的真心——在思维尚未纷扰，外物尚未来袭时，就先行察明本心。那一刻的心意最纯粹，也最真实。倘若拖延不决，等到世界的纷乱将你裹挟，恐惧与犹豫往往就会淹没那初生的真心。若真如此，我们便失去了世界的根。因为生活的因果，不是要让我们疲于应付，而是让我们行使主体，彰显选择。
而“慢”呢，却恰恰在另一层面成其必要。心意虽真，语言和行为却常常无法与之完全契合。人不比无限的神明，动作与言语总有偏差。正因为这偏差，才给了我们展露自己的机会。所以我们要放慢一些，面对这些机会，三思而后行：我的举动，能否让对方看见我的本心？我的言语，能否让他见证到我是谁？慢，让爱有更完整的形状。
我总是想，人和人之间，其实是能够感受彼此的心意的。我们也能感受到我们自己的心意。但是这些感受我们无法全都明白。否则，生活便失去了存在的必要。正因如此，语言才显得如此拙劣而必需。它单一，甚至贫乏，但仍是我们唯一的桥梁。因为它的不完全，我们才会误解，也才会难过。然而这并不意味着沉默是答案。相反，它提醒我们要说得更多：去询问他的感受，去阐述你的心情，去表达你想表达的，去确认他所担心的。
当然，也有时候，不言无为确是一种智慧——但若要说话，就一定多说心里话。