原文标题：行走地球（来自TED演讲者John Francis）
来源|经典译读 编辑|莫邪
（音乐）（掌声）
谢谢你们今天到场。我说感谢你们今天到场，因为我已经有17年没有开口说话了。
而我再次开口说话是在首都华盛顿，是在地球日20周年纪念日的当天。我的家人和朋友们聚在那里等着听我开口说话。而我说的第一句话就是：“谢谢你们今天到场。”我的妈妈在人群中跳了起来，“哈利路亚，小约翰在说话。”（笑声）想象一下如果你沉默了17年，而你的妈妈那个时候在人群之中蹦出来这么一句话。我爸爸对我说：“总算了却了一件事。”我过会儿解释。然而我转过身，因为我没有弄明白我的声音是从哪儿来的。我已经有17年没有听到过自己的声音了，于是我转过身，看了看说：“天哪，谁把我脑子里想说的说出来了？”之后我意识到是我自己，我笑了。我能看见我爸爸在说：“是的，他真是疯了。”
好吧，我想带你踏上这段旅程。这个旅程象征着我们所有人的历程。尽管我的这段旅程很不寻常，但是我想让你们思考你们各自的历程。
我的旅程开始于1971年，当我亲眼看见两辆油罐车在金门大桥下相撞，50万加仑的原油涌入港湾。这一幕令我深感不安，于是我决定再也不骑或驾驶任何机动交通工具。这在加州可是个大事，在我的小社区里更是件大事。我的社区是加州因弗内斯的雷斯岬站，当时是1971年冬季，那里大概只有350人。因此，当我开始步行去往各处的时候，人们才发现出了什么事。他们就会把车开到我身边，对我说：“约翰，你这是干嘛呢？”我回答：“为了环保，我在走路。”他们说：“不对，你在走路是为了让我们看起来像做错了事，对吧？你在走路是为了让我们感觉难堪。”然而也许这里面有些道理，于是我就想如果我开始走路的话，大家都会跟我一起行走。因为那次原油泄露事件，每个人都在谈论污染问题。于是我跟大家争论这个问题，我不停地争论。我把我的父母叫起来，跟他们说：“我再也不开车了。”我爸爸说：“你怎么不在16岁的时候就这样做呢？”（笑声）那时候我还小，还不知道环境问题。
他们回到了费城。我对妈妈说：“我非常高兴，我真的很高兴。”她说：“儿子，如果你是真高兴的话，你就不需要说出来。”妈妈总是这样的。
于是，在我27岁生日那天，因为之前我争论得太多，我说得太多，因此我决定要停止说话一天——就一天——歇一歇。于是我就这样做了。我早上起床，没说一个字。我得跟你说，这个经历很感动。因为长久以来，这是我第一次开始聆听。我所听到的令我很不安。因为从前我原本以为我在听的时候，我只是听到人们必须要说的那点东西就够了，我认为我都知道他们想要说什么，所以我就不再往下听了。在我的脑子里，我就开始往前赶，想着我要怎么回答他们，而这时候他们其实还没有把话说完呢。但我已经开始回答他们，以便结束这段对话。
因此这才是我真正聆听的第一天。而这让我很难过，因为我意识到这之前的那么多年我根本没有在听。当时我27岁，我以为我什么都知道，其实不是。于是我决定我要再多坚持一天，再多一天，再多一天，直到后来，我对自己承诺我要一整年都保持沉默，因为我开始学到越来越多的东西，而且我需要学到更多的。于是我决定一年里都保持沉默，在我下一年生日的当天，我会再次评估我所学到的，然后也许我会再次开口说话。
唔~~这一下子17年过去了。在这17年当中，我行走，我弹班卓琴，我画画，我写日志，我通过看书试图研究环境问题。我决定我要去上学，于是我就去了。我走到俄勒冈州的阿什兰市，那里有关于环境研究的学位。只有500英里远。我走进报名处，接下来，“什么，什么，什么？”我拿着一份简报。“噢，你真的想来这里上学？你不会？我们有一个特别的项目专门针对你这类情况。”他们确实有。在接下来的两年里，我拿下了第一个学位——学士学位。我爸爸过来了，他为我感到十分骄傲。他说：“听着，我们非常为你骄傲，儿子。但是接下来你要用这个学位做些什么呢？你不开车，你也不说话，你一定躲不开这两样的。”（笑声）
（Applause）Thank you for being here. And I say "thank you for beinghere" because I was silent for 17 years.
And the first words that I spokewere in Washington, D.C., on the 20th anniversary of Earth Day.And my familyand friends had gathered there to hear me speak. And I said,"thank you forbeing here." My mother, up the audience, she jumped, "Hallelujah,Johnny's talking!"（Laughter）
Imagine if you were quiet for 17 years andyour mother was out in the audience,say. My dad said to me, "That'sone"-- I'll explain that. But I turned around because I didn't recognizewhere my voice was coming from. I hadn't heard my voice in 17 years, so I turned around and I looked and I said,"God, who's saying what I'm thinking?" And then I realized it was me,you know, and I kind of laughed. And I could see my father:"Yeah, hereally is crazy." Well, I want to take you on this journey. And thejourney, I believe, is a metaphor for all of our journeys. Even though this oneis kind of unusual, I want you to think about your own journey. My journeybegain in 1971 when I witnessed two oil tankers colide beneath the Golden Gate,and a half a million gallons of oil spilled into the bay. It disturbed me somuch that I decided that I was going to give up riding and driving in motorizedvehicles. That's a big thing in California. And it was a big thing in my littlecommunity of Point Reyes Station in Inverness, California, because there wereonly about maybe 350 people there in the winter-this was back in '71 now. Andso when I came in and I started walking around, people--they just knew what wasgoing on. And peoplewould drive up next to me and say, "John, what are youdoing?" And I'd say, "well, I'm walking for the environment."And they said, "No, you're walking to make us look bad, right? You'rewalking to make us feel bad." And maybe there was some truth to that, because I thought that if I startedwalking, everyone would, you know, follow. Because of the oil, everybody talkedabout the pollution. And so I argued with people about that, I argued and Iargued. I called my parents up. I said, "I've given up riding and drivingin cars." My dad said, "Why didn't you do that when you were16?"（Laughter)I didn't know about the environment then.
They're back in Philadelphia. And so I told my mother, "I'm happy though, I'm really happy." She said,"If you were happy, son, you wouldn't have to sayit." Mothers are like that. And so, on my 27th birthday I decided, becauseI argued so much and I talk so much, that I was going to stop speaking for justone day--one day--to give it a rest.
And so I did. I got up in the morning andI didn't say a word. And I have to tell you, it was a very moving experience, because for the first time, I began listening--in a long time. And what I heard, it kind of disturbed me. Because what I used to do, when I thiught I waslistening, was I would listen just enough to hear what people had to say and Ithink that I could--I knew what they were going to say, and so I stoppedlistening. And in my mind, I just kind of raced ahead and thought of what I wasgoing to say back, while they were still finishing up. And then I would launchin. Well, that just ended communication. so on this first day I actually listened. And it was very sad for me, because I realized that for those manyyears I had not been learning. I was 27, I thought I knew everything. I didn't.And so I decided I'd better do this for another day, and another day, andanother day until finally, I promised myself for a year I would keep quietbecause I started learning more and I needed to learn more. So for a year I said I would keep quiet, and then on my birthday I would reassess what I hadlearned and maybe I would talk again.
Well, that lasted 17 years. Now during that time--those 17 years-- I walked and I played the banjo and I painted and I wrote in my journal, and I triedto study the environment by reading books. And I decided that I was going to go to the school. So I did. I walked up toAshland, Oregon, where they were offering an enviromental studies degree. It'sonly 500 miles. And I went into the Registrar's office and--（不说话，四处张望）"What,what, what?" I had a newspaper clipping. "So you really want to go toschool here? You don't… We have a special program for you." They did. And in those two years, I graduated with my first degree--a bachelor's degree. And my father came out, he was so proud.
He said, "Listen,we're really pround of you son, but what are yougoing to do with a bachelor's degree? You don'tride in cars, you don't talk--you're going to have to do those things."（Laughter）