I remember one teacher I had when I was a child often said “I hope you can learn like sponges, absorbing, then discharging what you absorb, absorbing again and discharging, continuously repeating the process⋯” After I grew up, I realized that, as an organism, a sponge animal does not have nervous, digestive, or circulatory systems. It needs sea water flowing through its body to be able to bring in nutrients and push out waste products. It is passive in its survival. Recently, I encountered something which I had yet to learn, but because I never learned it in the past, it was not easy for me until it happened. This March, I visited a very intimate friend and saw how Do-do, the newborn of their family, brings them long-forgotten laughter and spirit. I was moved by this soft impact which peacefully slid in after the chaos, and before the strength.
Occasionally, Do-do is also like the sponge, waiting standstill for osmosis and change to take place.
This is a transition from one thing to another, a story told from collapse to reconstruction represented via body language.