Would you expect a book called Conversations with God to not be about religion (in fact it is anti-religion and pro-spirituality and..shockingly, I approve it) or even about God? And what if a book about God would include deep conversations about sex & sexuality & death? And what if reading it would make you wonder if the whole way you've been living has been wrong?
This idea and a myriad of other existential thoughts were passing through my mind very early in the morning. As you probably know I love bad weather. Gloomy, rainy, cloudy, freezing. It makes me feel more peaceful and calm. And by the way, if anyone is interested, the book is written by Neale Donald Walsch. I bought the 4 volumes and I still can't wrap my head around volume 1. Processing a book hasn't been such a challenge for a long time ...shall I say a big thank you Donald? Or God? Anyway....back to the post
I woke up with a feeling that I want to take little snippets of my city while enjoying a foggy day. Very early in the morning when most people are still sleeping Mary wants to take photos. If you wonder if I am afraid walking alone through the fog ....the answer is no. I kind of love it.
What I like about moments like these is that it is awfully quiet. The atmosphere is kind of surreal, I felt like in one of those post-apocalyptic video games when the hero walks alone through a derelict city. Only that it feels beautiful and not scary. Fascinating and refreshing.
When I walked around I thought about how utterly alone we humans can feel on this Planet when everybody is getting up in their car and driving to I-don't-know-where-doing-something-I-don't-know-if-I-want-to-do. Incessantly. On repeat. Without questioning why the rythm has to be on high speed all the time.
We rush. We forget how to live pretending that this is living. Why do we run from ourselves?
I love the little colorful lights. We should have them all the time, not only on holidays. Because we should not expect Christmas in order to celebrate kindness and become better people.
A man with a mission. I wonder if he thinks that what he has to do is so very important. I realize that in those far away shadows are concrete walls where people dream their life and live their dreams only if they allow themselves to be more than they can
Go straight ahead. Says the arrow. How often do we go on faulty roads because we trusted an old sign? Look at the present moment. Are you repeating your past?
I like how the fog makes the city lights more subdued. It is like a wonderful blurry collage. Isn't this a good metaphor for urban life? In the early morning, when it is quiet, some thoughts can be clear. When agitation begins the blur happens. Like troops ready to attack, masses of people wake up and the big noise begins. Where is the fine line between repetition and doing something worth doing?
Answer: Blur....
This shell could have been a big tree. A magnificent walnut. It just lays here. So tiny, so small. Ready to return into the very soil it has come from. Just like us. Admirable temporary beauty ready to trancend and become more than a shell.Just like us.
The lights are off. While in the dark am I still looking in the right way?
There is a certain feeling of magic when I have the privilege to observe how trees go barren heading toward winter season. They shed their old leaves in a spectacle of color. The fallen leaves are a beautiful blueprint of decay. What we often perceive as a loss can be in fact a win. A regeneration. A process.
They say trust the process.
This morning I've said trust the fog. Trust myself and my Fuji.
Have a blessed day and toodle loo!
