我在進城之前遇到一個老人，他告訴我他在年輕的時候用十袋銀錢買下東邊的這一座山。我將視線移到東邊的方向，這是一座巍峨的山，雲霧遮掩緊密的綠色，我相信這座山還有許多我視線未及的內容。我忍不住臆想，一個人怎麼能擁有一座山？ 

    我當然不否定老人在特定法律下對這座山的所有權，即使那張土地契約已經斑駁甚至已經遺失。我相信他告訴我的，他的確用一個他願意付出的價格交換這座山。然而，在交換之後，他到底擁有什麼？他擁有清涼的山泉？森林的香氣？還是山中的土壤與它孕育出的花草？當他坐在山林中，擁有林鳥美妙的音樂？在寧靜的夜晚，擁有閃亮的繁星？

    我問他他在這座山上做了什麼？種果子？掘鐵礦？他告訴我他一個事也沒作。他讓這座山作它自己。這座山涵養清淨的山泉、新鮮的空氣、茁壯的森林、美麗的花草、自然的音樂與深夜的繁星。

    在多年以前，發生了一個大規模的地震，這座山改變了他的樣子，不僅是山的形狀與它的位置，山中也聚生了沼澤與敗壞的土壤。山中的生命畏怯了，林鳥的歌聲哀傷、花草枯萎、天空聚集塵埃遮掩了明月與星光。老人告訴我他在那個時候也一個事都沒作。幾年之後，山中醞釀新的土壤、新的生命、林鳥再次雀躍、天空晴朗繁星一一可見。

    在這個時候，我終於瞭解，老人是一個實在的擁有者。一個擁有者同時也是一個接受者。一個人擁有一件衣服或是一件珠寶，他必須有儲存這些東西的空間。當一個國王宣稱他擁有一座王國，他並非將領土內的一切鎖在他的御用櫃裡，他讓生命繁衍、事物自然運行。一個人心胸越大，他所能擁有的越多。

**影像（集錦照相）為郎靜山作品

I met an elder before entering the town. He told me that he bought this mountain in the east with ten bags of silver coins when he was young. I noticed that this mountain was magnificent. The mist veiled the overwhelmed green. I believed that there was still much I couldn’t see. However, I couldn’t help to wonder if a person could really own a mountain?

Of course I didn’t mean to deny the elder’s possession right over this mountain, even though that piece of land contract might have been unrecognizable or even lost. I believed what he told me. He indeed paid a price that he thought it was worth. But after trading, what did he own? Did he possess the mountain streams? The sweet scenes of the forest? The fertile soil and growing flowers? When he sat in the mountain, did he own the music of the birds? In a serene night, did he own the uncountable stars?

I asked him what he did with the mountain. Cultivating fruits or digging mines? He said he did nothing. He let the mountain be itself. The mountain lived with its streams, fresh air, ever-green forest, pretty flowers, natural music and twinkling stars.

A few years ago, there was a vehement earthquake. The mountain changed its looks. Not only its shape and the location were changed, but bogs and spoil soil also gathered. The lives in the mountain were scared. Birds sang tragedies. Flowers died. Dust covered the sky and the mountain lost its stars. The elder told me that he didn’t do anything then, either. After a few years, new soil grew, new lives boomed, birds sang again, and stars re-twinkled.

At this moment of his speaking, I understood that he owned this mountain. An owner, at the same time, is a receiver. When a person owns a shirt or a piece of jewelry, he needs to have a space to store them. When a king claims he owns a kingdom, he wouldn’t lock everything in the territory in his royal cabinet. He lets life continue and things go with natural laws. The more capacity a person can receive, the more he owns.

**The image was by Lang Jing-Shan