我常常問自己，為什麼我出生在台灣？一個太平洋的邊緣島嶼。在島上沒人看見的小角落，我，如同靈魂安排好的降落，生在這塊土地，學習這個語言，走上這條路。
這個世界上，再也沒有第二個地方，能讓「漢語靈魂」如此完整地活著。在台灣，字沒有被簡化，情感沒被壓扁，詩還有詩的節奏，語言還能轉身低語、繞行留白。
這裡保留了中華的儒雅與人情味，老祖宗留下的婉轉、沉靜、克制、幽微，以及那種「不說」而蘊藏的萬語千言。
「言之無文，行而不遠」的詩性思維
「得一以靜，天地自正」的道家意境
「以柔克剛、後發制人」的文化內核
在這片土地上得以傳承，而我，就這麼落在這樣的語言裡，像一枚靈魂的種子，在字裡行間慢慢發芽。
然而這塊島嶼賜予我靈性的同時，也賦予我生命最初的重量，它承載了太多說不出口的沉重。人們學著低聲說話，小心做人，壓抑、順從、乖巧，是從小被反覆灌溉的土壤。情感要藏起來，痛要吞下去，夢想……最好先忘了，學校排名最重要。
我生在這裡，一個把女兒當賠錢貨的社會，把體罰當教育的年代，我學會了沉默，也學會了觀察。當別人還在牙牙學語時，我的眼睛已經在閱讀世界的裂縫。
我曾經以為這是業力清償。我必須這麼早承受，一邊飢餓，一邊背著全家的命運。後來我明白了— 這不是懲罰，是淬鍊。這裡的文化教我：不能喊出來的痛，就寫下來。說不出口的夢，就活出來。「中文」讓我能把痛寫得像詩，讓我能在斷裂裡種光，讓我能淡然地說出深刻的事。
我學會在極小裡看見宇宙，在壓抑中長出翅膀，在「你不可以」的聲音裡，找到「我偏要」的勇氣。台灣，是被世界遺棄的那個孤兒，我也是不被選中的那一個，但我們都有不願背叛自己的靈魂。
現在我知道了，我之所以從台灣出發，是因為那裡的文化、語言與苦難，正是打造我這顆靈魂的配方。在那裡，我學會了看見被忽略的人，寫出那些沒有名字的傷口，用中文，把靈魂一筆一劃刻下來。
如今，我走得夠遠，回頭擁抱這個起點，我謝謝這片島嶼，曾經深深地困住我，也悄悄地讓那顆被遺忘的種子，長成一株能說話的靈魂之草，讓我有機會帶著它的語言，帶著中文的靈性，為那些還沒找到語言的靈魂說話。不張揚，不喧嘩，只願有人，在某個安靜的角落，讀懂我的文字，然後，也開始聽見自己。
I often ask myself: why did my life begin in Taiwan - a small island on the edge of the Pacific, in a forgotten corner where no one was watching? There, I quietly arrived - like an unexpected seed.
This land carries an unspeakable heaviness. People learn to speak softly, to behave cautiously. Obedience, suppression, and compliance were the soil that watered us over and over. Emotions must be hidden, pain must be swallowed, and dreams… are better forgotten. What matters most is school rankings.
I was born here, in a society that saw daughters as burdens, in an era where corporal punishment was called education. I learned silence and I learned to observe. While others were still learning to speak, my eyes were already reading the cracks in the world.
I once believed this was karmic repayment - that I had to endure hunger while carrying the weight of my family's fate. But later, I understood: this was not punishment. It was refinement.
Chinese language taught me that words can hold emotion, that silence can speak truth. This culture taught me that pain too heavy to say aloud can be written down. Dreams that can’t be spoken can still be lived.
I learned to see the universe in the smallest things, to grow wings inside oppression, to find the courage to say “I will” in a world that kept saying “You can’t.”
Taiwan is the orphan the world forgot. And I was the child no one chose. Yet neither of us ever betrayed our souls.
Now I understand - I was meant to begin in Taiwan, because its language, its culture, and its suffering were exactly the ingredients my soul needed. There, I learned to see the invisible, to write the wounds that had no names, to carve my soul - stroke by stroke - into the Chinese characters.
And now, I have walked far enough to turn around and embrace this origin. I thank this island - for holding me so tightly, so that one day, I could carry its language and tell the story of true freedom.
Ayïma 阿儀瑪 