I’ve always wondered why it’s a waste to waste time or talent. Almost considered a sin, actually. I believe within a few more years, we’ll be able to commercialize the scientific methods of 3D printing and use them for example to replace our natural bodies with artificial ones. Who knows how far we can expand our lives then, how we will stretch the length of our ages and reconstruct the health of our youth.
Time goes by whether you do something or not, whether you want it or not, whether you’re good at something or not. Why does the general pull always trend to lead to ‘something’ instead of the ‘not’? Do our lives really feel so empty when there’s nothing substantial there? What’s the matter of substance anyway? No matter how we evolve politically, scientifically or psychologically, those are questions cast away to the realm of religion, spirituality and philosophy.
But of all fields named here, the last one mentioned is also the last one standing when it comes to anything, and the first to ever question any of all those things. If all goes well, eventually, humanity will catch up to that.
Am I not to breathe your beauty ?
Blessed by the summer breeze
Your warm sigh whispers upon me
Is it sustenance or punishment ?
To baptize myself ignorant
In devotion dipped in patience
Like wild flowers bloom from freedom
The captivity that caught me on
Is undoing my becoming
I won’t falter but I will fall
Hurt, break & suffer
Most of all
I won’t recognize myself
Failure shames all that is left
As I lose what I thought to have
I often go for walks outside by myself. Sit nearby the water and watch the sun play its shine on the ripples, painting its art on the moving surface. For me to just tune out of my own life and zone in the world around me.
During those walks, I run into all kinds of people. Some going for a walk just as me, with their partner, family, friends, or alone, walking their dog or going for a jog.
Then sometimes I see people walking, of whom I get the idea, that this is the first time they resurfaced to the real world again, after a period of solitary hibernation. Maybe because I can identify, maybe it’s just personal projection and recognition, maybe not.
They seem anxious in both an excited and fearful way, super self conscious and clearly exploring the outside beyond their bubble, as if just fallen from the nest. They are not together, not composed, not centered.
Not at all that I claim to be any one of those things, but perhaps from my own experience in that situation, I recognize these restless beings roaming for another purpose, seeking the restfulness, aiming for that point where their life will tilt back over to a more positive direction.
They are not walking away from their responsibilities, they are again meeting the reality beyond themselves and reaching back to the notion of better times ahead.
I am, seemingly more than others, aware of my surroundings, but not only that. I like to see people. Not just look at them, or observe and judge, place them in the proper position of my mental picture, but see them and their story behind the posture.
There is a name for this: sonder. The awareness that every soul you come across has a whole universe hidden behind their daily facade. A whole life of ups & downs, of cries, screams, tears, smiles, heartaches, disease, sorrow, loss, love, hurt, intentions, desires, mistakes, fantasies, knowledge, wisdom, emotions.
It’s fascinating to me, not only to see and think about, analyse and even feel it in their presence. But alone the thought, that I, as an outsider to them, will never be part of theirs as they will never be of mine.
Although it could be.. when worlds collide, split open and intervene with each other. On a daily basis, it doesn’t always happen like that, though. We sit and stare, as do they. We observe and care, maybe also on their part. But we will never know.. For the simple reason that I prefer to respect people in their being, as I would appreciate the same from their side.
While sometimes.. it is so pleasant to meet, someone who has maybe the same empathic feelers, to see and notice my little bubble, but they are in touch deeply enough with a realization that peeking through that bubble, will first of all not break my bubble, nor will it break or bother me.
Sometimes I just sit in my happy pensive solitude, observing the reality of reality and the reality of other’s reality, and then there is just this one friendly man, walking his old yet playful dog, and he asks me with sincere interest: “how is your game going?”, meaning my obsessive preoccupation and busy typing on my phone. I look up, take my earphones out, my sunglasses off, smile at him and tell him: “I’m not playing a game, I’m writing..” …BOOM… Worlds have collided, bubbles burst open, a conversation has commenced. Just like that.
We may live alone, but we are never alone. No matter how we enjoy and cherish our solitude, knowing others still find us worthy for their interest or might just need to connect with someone to break through their own solitude, is such a rewarding feeling of being alive : )
Being part of a life, not just my own.
I seek a fountain.
A fountain of love.
I want to shower in a fountain of love, I want to drink the waters from a fountain of love, I want to be watered by love as from a fountain…
Not just a single drop of rain that by the grace of God happens to land on my desert of lovelacking desperation…
That would not suffice.
That would not satisfy.
I require an ever feeding, ever cleansing, ever growing, ever continuously flowing power of love.
My heart would not survive without.