The pain of Nirvana and the beauty of rebirth are understood by most people; these are often just words on the lips, habitual reactions like: "Understood," "Right," "Good," "Got it," "Know." That's why there's a saying: knowing many truths doesn't mean you can live this life well. Superficial understanding, surface-level comprehension, are all simple intellectual understandings—flashes of insight, not deep, heartfelt understanding; not profound enough to be remembered long-term; not a Nirvana-like rebirth after experience. It's hard to be truly certain about the unity of knowledge and action. True understanding is worth thousands of gold, not just a few pounds. Many people don't turn back when they hit a wall, they don't wake up to understanding; some even get their heads broken and bleed but still don't wake up. Many people don't wake up even at the moment of death. Perhaps it's because the pain is still light; otherwise, they would have abandoned and avoided it long ago. When water reaches the end of its course, it becomes scenery; when a person reaches the end, they are reborn. To resist the pain of Nirvana is to deserve the beauty of rebirth. Life is like chess: make your move without regret; life is like a play: accept the gamble and accept the outcome. The phoenix's Nirvana—dying to be reborn—is the only way to shed the old and be reborn anew. The beauty after pain, the sweetness after bitterness. Motherly love is greater than heaven, inseparable from the pain of pregnancy and childbirth. The true path of the world is through the vicissitudes of life. $ORDER $U2U $SWELL