Mare Eterna, Fuoco Eterna
Sea and fire, wave and flame.
Some of my most vivid memories of the past few days are of minor events.
I lit a tea candle at home, and watched the flame dance and waver for so long that I went to sleep with its bright shadow etched in my eyes.
I went out for coffee during work, and as soon as I left the building, I was struck speechless by the light mist falling, and the overwhelming smell of the sea. The smell of crashing waves and brine.
I curled up in bed, falling asleep, and vivid, poignant images of Kate come to mind. The other thing that comes to mind is the irrational desire to sleep in fresh mountain air, crisp and alive.
Most of all, old ideas are resurfacing again. The eternal nature of the sea. The brilliance and unpredictability of flame. The inexplicable idea that I'm a pillar of rock, aged and pitted, wearing away as slowly as the hills. Love so transcendant that it seems almost blessed, almost unreal; this time, I am not the observer, but the bearer. The pain of loss, of separation, and my instinct to transform pain into bitter wisdom. Friendship so strong that time and distance lose some of their meaning. The subtle, incalculable importance of small gestures.
This happens once in a while. Eventually I have learned and changed so much that something shifts, and I start to remember exactly who I used to be. I end up adopting all of my new ideas and experiences, and ground myself again. The main lesson? You cannot escape your own nature. Learn to live with it, and to grow and live with grace. If you do, more often than not you'll find unexpected beauty. Even if you do not, your sadness becomes easier to bear.
Some of my most vivid memories of the past few days are of minor events.
I lit a tea candle at home, and watched the flame dance and waver for so long that I went to sleep with its bright shadow etched in my eyes.
I went out for coffee during work, and as soon as I left the building, I was struck speechless by the light mist falling, and the overwhelming smell of the sea. The smell of crashing waves and brine.
I curled up in bed, falling asleep, and vivid, poignant images of Kate come to mind. The other thing that comes to mind is the irrational desire to sleep in fresh mountain air, crisp and alive.
Most of all, old ideas are resurfacing again. The eternal nature of the sea. The brilliance and unpredictability of flame. The inexplicable idea that I'm a pillar of rock, aged and pitted, wearing away as slowly as the hills. Love so transcendant that it seems almost blessed, almost unreal; this time, I am not the observer, but the bearer. The pain of loss, of separation, and my instinct to transform pain into bitter wisdom. Friendship so strong that time and distance lose some of their meaning. The subtle, incalculable importance of small gestures.
This happens once in a while. Eventually I have learned and changed so much that something shifts, and I start to remember exactly who I used to be. I end up adopting all of my new ideas and experiences, and ground myself again. The main lesson? You cannot escape your own nature. Learn to live with it, and to grow and live with grace. If you do, more often than not you'll find unexpected beauty. Even if you do not, your sadness becomes easier to bear.