国家地理:不要让流行病夺走我们的欢庆(5)
We can make an altar on the island in the kitchen -- which, if you're like me, is where we find ourselves most often -- or in an actual portable matchbox.
我们可以在厨房的中岛（若你跟我一样最常在这里活动）或真正的可携式火柴盒中搭起圣坛。
Life wants to keep reminding us of its sacred self, but we have to open our eyes and hearts. Yes, our hair looks like hell, and we're out of shape, and dislike our mate, and shouldn't have had children, but God, what a sunset. And I so appreciate the roof over my head. There is an exuberant patch of poppies and weeds outside in the rocky dirt. The poppies are lanterns: light over darkness, good over evil. Light your lantern with self-love. Shine.
生活不断提醒我们它神圣的本质，但我们必须打开双眼与心胸。没错，我们的头发乱糟糟、身材走样、讨厌身边的配偶、不该生孩子，但是天哪，多美的日落。我也非常感谢我头上的屋顶。外面的石质土中，有一小片生气勃勃的罂粟和杂草。罂粟就像是灯笼：光明战胜黑暗，善良战胜邪恶。用对自己的爱点亮你的灯笼，闪耀吧。
We can't feel many people's warm skin, but we have the scarf that Emmy knit, the cap Granddad left us, our first toolbox that an uncle assembled for our eighth birthday even though we were a girl. These are as sacred as the statues and tapestries we would see in mosques, temples, Zendos, ashrams. We leave them around, to remember love.
我们无法感受到许多人温暖的肌肤，但我们拥有艾米织的围巾、爷爷留下的帽子，还有我们八岁生日时叔叔为我们准备的第一个工具箱，尽管当时我们都还是个小女孩。这些就像在清真寺、寺庙、禅室、静修处见到的雕像和挂毯一样神圣。我们把这些留在身边，用来记住爱。
