What if?
What would happen?
freedom exiles
In a letter to his lover, Khalil Gibran once wrote:
"I have always thought that when somebody understands us,
we end up enslaved to them,
because we accept anything in order to be understood."
There are a few people out there, to whom I remain enslaved,
even after I have lost sight of them.
I get attached.
It is rare, but the implications are explosive.
Pieces flying about, ego shattered, heart bruised.
But sometimes I am the 'someone who enslaves'.
Serendipitiously, I see below the surface and I understand.
Like I saw your copper coil, understood your core.
I try not to show it.
Would not want to enslave anyone against their will.
Does that trap me or free me?
Fellowship imprisons, freedom exiles.
I am a peninsula, struggling to break loose.
Sólo estelas en el mar.
Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar
al andar se hace el camino
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar
Caminante, no hay camino
sino estelas en el mar.
(c) Antonio Machado
Home and Away
I find comfort in would-be-strangers in a foreign city.
we bond in our restlessness, our singlehood and our ever-expanding dreams.
Tied together in our resentment of those who judge us,
those who want to save us, educate us or show us the golden path.
Never before has the divide between Us & Them been wider.
It is not a battle between singles and couples,
but the ultimate confrontation of conventionalists and norm-breakers.
I never knew just how provocating it can be to just follow your own path.I suppose Salman Rushdie is right:
Among the great struggles of man- good/evil, reason/unreason, etc-
there is also the mighty conflict between the fantasy of Home and the fantasy of Away.
The dream of roots and the mirage of the journey.
United in diversity
Serendipity, I've missed you.
It feels like being in the epicentre of my own mind.
A place where all thouts of anxiety, dissatisfaction or stress simply cannot enter.
Somewhere I have always been in my mind, and always longed to be in reality.
Scared of what awaits me outside of this serene bubble.
But confident enough to know it is my responsibility to know what to do next.
Heaven can wait, we're only watching the sky
I remember writing lists.
Long lists of every single thing to go in my suitcase before a journey.
Drawing pictures of the clothes I was bringing,
making mixtapes- meticulously- weeks before the departure.
And even though I was probably 14 at the time, and spotify had to wait over a decade to be invented
I can miss the thrills of travel when it was all new and a big deal.
There's a very vivid memory that I treasure.
It is an early, early morning, misty and damp in the middle of May.
The whole family in the car, heading to the airport.
Suddenly we spot an elk standing proud on the edge of a small cliff alongside the road.
And Alphaville's Forever Young playing on the radio.
Listening to that song still gives me goosebumps because I remember the feeling.
Of being on the edge of something wonderful.
Now I think of travel as a natural part of my life.
It is still exciting, but in a different, more integral way (if that is possible).
Don't get me wrong, I love to travel. Love it.
More than anything else the feeling of being renewed in another place,
of meeting yourself as much as meeting others.
I cherish the smell of a place that is not my home.
Mostly, I love the thoughts that come to me while travelling.
Sometimes I want to think of travel as I used to.
When a journey was a 6-month project, not a quick getaway with some time to kill at an airport.
Or perhaps it is not the way of travelling I want back.
Perhaps it's a state of mind.
The neverending Aphorism
Sometimes I sort dreams with love,
put them in that drawer which I rarely open, but always think about.
Telling myself "there are more important things to think about".
Although I don't know what.
Fear is to dreams what jealousy is to love and what protectionism is to international trade.
it impedes, imprisons, diminishes the return.
leaves you with killed off dreams, broken hearts and stagnation.
Fear causes war, because, let's face it:
jealousy and protectionism are just sector-specific synonyms of fear.
What is more important, fulfilling our dreams or people's approval of our lives?
When we look back, how important will we find our mentor's acceptance,
our mothers' blessing or our friends' admiration?
How do we explain to ourselves the regret we feel at having sold our dreams
in exchange for a few appreciative glances.
What value do they have when we look at ourselves with disappointment and beratement?
And, if fear is the danger, then trust is the answer.
Trust your lover. Trust the benefits of interacting with other nations.
And most of all,
Trust yourself to go in the direction of your dreams.
