Sometimes I wonder where I am headed to?
Towards a more complex and shining version of myself? I hope, but then the question disappears because I am not wondering that much. You know some mornings; you ask more questions than others. To me, today, will not be one of these days.
Today, I look outside the window and I see the melting snow, greyish, here on de Lorimier. It is a snow not yet of winter but of a falling autumn, devastated by the cold air coming from the north. We can’t escape time or destiny, I think to myself today.
The past few weeks, minutes have gone by as grains of sand, ever so thin and light in my hand trying to grasp it as my own. It will never be mine, the time.
Today is an anything can happen kind of day. It’s a purposeless day, supposed to be filled with nothingness and contemplation. At least, for me. I see humans around me, focused, and all I can do is observe their quiet rhythm of life. Each and everyone of us today awoke in a different spirit. The sky, white and grey, stand above us as a heavy layer of signification. Today, we will not see the great openness of the sky, we will live under the illusion that it finds its end at the limit of this grey wall above. This looks like it could be the day when a war is declared. The weight of sadness is palpable and a lot of us will be crying today.
Evanescent tears of women will flow on the pale green slopes on the highest mountains, men’s tears will soften the hearts of burning volcanos, all of our tears will be uniting in the saddest say of the year, unlimited spaces and times, overlapping realities, joining right here, right now. You will know sometimes when your turn is up, when you can walk your path in tears of in joy, trust me, you will know.
Moments of life accumulating take the colors of the trees, leaves and flowers. The sun, never stopping to shine, vibrates in my heart like the wings of an angel going from ocean to ocean, bringing bliss and power to my whole being. I will surrender to the light and the love all around, in kisses and in grace. I will empower myself and others in the process of writing my feelings and thoughts. How will I ever be complete in this? Does it matter to feel complete when I already know I am?
Freedom, today, feels like and order almost, an injunction to live to the fullest, not to let myself fall in the pit of poetry for the sake of poetry. Writing to mark the time of my sensations and ideas, immersing in the knowledge of the self, which can never be suppressed or limited. The frontiers of me, in the shape of the world, are invisible and I try to find them wherever I can. Books, words, dance, music, films, painting, drawing, life, love all in one realm, the one of the realities I am a part of. I said that I did not have many questions in my head but it’s okay, to have questions, to wander endlessly in a haze of uncertainty. How does the truth will appear anyway?
The different forms of life merge into the idea of being alive. When perceiving the impossible reasons to be human and experiencing existence as such, we get lost, we find ourselves being essentially emotional , trying to escape the sting on the heart, the burning inside when you are sad or angry. I repeat, we cannot escape the time. We cannot escape destiny.
Writing the metaphysical, writing the lives of humans makes me feel grateful of all the time I was listened to, I was cared for, I was held in a fall, protected, loved, all of that resumed in a wonderful gesture of altruism. Writing the precise moment when the heart breaks brought me to understanding my own breach, the spaces where I let the light enter me, the angles of blindness that prevent me from seeing it all. It will come I know, revelations, ecstatic lucidity will come to me because I am looking for it.
And you, what are you looking for ?
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