One night, on his way home, a boy saw an old man standing in the moonlight. The man told the boy that he was attached to his wife by a red thread, and pointed out the woman for whom it was intended.
The boy, who had no interest in meeting his “future” wife, threw a rock at the girl and then ran away.
Years later, the boy grew into a young man and his parents took charge of organizing the wedding, also finding him the ideal wife, as was the custom at the time. When night fell, his wife was waiting for him in the room, her face covered with a veil. When he removed the veil, the young man, who was seeing her for the first time, was amazed by her beauty but was struck by an ornament that the girl wore above her eyebrow. He asked her what it was.
The young woman told him that when she was a child, one night a boy had thrown a stone at her, leaving her with that scar. She wore the ornament to cover the mark.
The young man did not know that that night, in his childhood, the old man was none other than Yue Xia Lao, a man who, according to popular legend, lives on the moon and who goes out every night to search among the souls, those that are predestined. Then he ties them with a red thread, so that they do not get lost.
This Chinese legend, which has other versions and is also well-known in Japan, tells us about the invisible threads that bind us to other people, threads that can become tangled or stretched but never break.
Paulo Coelho, reflecting on this legend, said:
“They say that throughout our lives we have two great loves: one with whom you marry or live forever, who may be the father or mother of your children… That person with whom you achieve the greatest rapport and with whom you spend the rest of your life…
And they say there is a second great love, a person you will always lose. Someone you were born connected to, so connected that the forces of chemistry escape reason and will always prevent you from reaching a happy ending. Until one day you both stop trying… You give up and look for that other person that you will eventually find.
But I assure you that not a single night will go by without needing another kiss from him, or at least arguing one more time…
You all know what I’m talking about, because while you were reading, his name came to mind.
They will get rid of him or her, they will stop suffering, they will find peace (they will replace it with calm), but not a day will go by when they do not wish that he or she were there to disturb them.
Because sometimes it takes more energy to argue with someone you love than to make love to someone you care about.”
The Red Thread: A Bound Future or a Memorandum of the Past?
The most interesting thing about this legend is that we all have several red threads to follow and many decisions to make, especially if we want to move forward. Some of these decisions are really painful but necessary, others are mistakes, plain and simple.
That’s why we should always find a balance in our relationships. It can be just as harmful to be guided only by the heart as it is to listen exclusively to reason. Special people are not only special for who they are, but also for the relationship we have established with them, for the memories we have built together and, of course, for the moment in which they came into our lives.
This combination of factors makes a relationship unique and unrepeatable. Therefore, it will always be part of our memory, the red thread is not broken. However, that does not mean that we should be tied to the past and constantly think about it. On the contrary, at this point it is necessary to learn to remember without pain, without resentment and without longing.
We are all tied by invisible threads to the significant people of our past, but that should not prevent us from living in the present. Those red threads should not become heavy burdens but rather bridges to what we were. We cannot forget the people we love, but we can learn to live with it without it being a burden on our present. The red threads should not shackle our future but rather become a pleasant memento of our past.
