The pile of waste is there, you don't like looking at it. Let it go in and take a look, and it'll look better when it comes out.

The pile of waste is there, you don't like looking at it. Let it go in and take a look, and it'll look better when it comes out.

That pile of waste in the corner of the yard, you glance at it every day as you pass by, and it bothers you. Broken bricks, tiles, stones, concrete blocks, all piled up haphazardly, overgrown with weeds, a den of insects and rats. It's not that you don't want to clean it up, it's that there's nowhere to put it, so it just sits there, an eyesore, a nuisance.

The pile of waste at the village entrance is even bigger. Road construction debris, leftovers from demolished houses, all dumped there. Year after year it piles up, higher and higher, cars can't pass, people walk around it. Every time you pass by, you frown—when will this pile of stuff look better?

Now there's a solution. Let it go in and take a look, and it'll look better when it comes out. Feed these unsightly things into the machine, a rumble, and when it comes out, it's transformed. The large pieces are broken, the messy pieces are organized, a pile of unsightly garbage has become neat and orderly material. Stacked there, it looks pleasing to the eye.

Pleasing to the eye doesn't mean the things themselves have changed, but rather how you feel about them. What used to be a burden now looks like material; what used to be something to avoid now looks like something to use. It can be used for paving roads, filling potholes, building walls—you can't bear to throw any of it away. Standing there, looking at those materials, you feel particularly at ease.

You don't like looking at piles of waste material, but let it go in for a while, and it comes out pleasing to the eye. From today onward, there will be nothing unsightly in your yard, only pleasing materials; there will be nothing weighing on your mind, only materials waiting to be used.