某天穿过公园的时候我看到一个小孩在爬树。我看了几分钟,沉醉怀想着自己的年少时光,这时,不知从哪里冒出来一个女人,大喊大叫地从我身边走过。一切不言自明:孩子的妈妈驾到,怒火中烧。“从树上下来!”她尖叫道,“你会从树上掉下来,摔断手的!”尽管那个小男孩对这些话没什么概念,他还是屈从了妈妈的牢骚,然后在他们回家的路上,妈妈还一直喋喋不休,怒骂不止。这让我思考:小男孩怕什么?为什么他不害怕从树上摔下来?而妈妈的恐惧又源自何处呢?显然,这可不是她儿子第一次像猴子一样爬上树顶了——就我看来,他似乎爬得相当熟练自如。我们的恐惧,我们的不安,是从什么时候出现的?它们来自何方? I saw a child climbing trees while crossing the park one day. I watched for a few minutes and was engrossed in thinking about my youth. At this time, I did not know where to emerge from a woman and shouted and passed me. Everything is self-explanatory: The child’s mother arrives and burns with anger. “Down from the tree!” she screamed. “You’ll fall from the tree and break your hand!” Even though the little boy had no idea about these words, he still succumbed to his mother’s complaints, and then On their way home, Mom has been chattering and screaming. This makes me think: What is the boy afraid of? Why he is not afraid to fall from the tree? Where does the mother’s fear come from? Obviously, this is not the first time that her son climbed the top of a tree like a monkey - - In my opinion, he seems to be very skillful. When did our fears and our unrest come from? Where did they come from?