2.1~ just a wave
The suns light painted over the mountains at the end of day, picking and choosing where to place its last rays.
I see a man, standing in front of these mountains with his arms wide open as his girlfriend takes a picture of him. He's smiling, as if he is seeing the expansiveness of the universe and is holding it in his hands. You would think holding this, the entire universe, in your hands, would get heavy. If that were true, god would be very tired all the time and perhaps that man wouldn't be smiling.
Maybe a better word for holding in this context is embracing, you never really get tired of embracing. Usually, embraces are mutual and loving and make you lighter. I feel like that smiling man feels today, or at least like I imagine him feeling as he embraces the world. I felt the sun on my face and the coffee on my tongue. I saw time with no constraints and no ceilings and no floors or endings. I'm not afraid that the sun is disappearing behind the mountains and soon I will no longer see the wisps of slate-blue clouds above the golden light, or the silhouettes of birds floating across the sky. It no longer feels like an ending, but rather another crash of a wave in the endless flow of eternity. Things are constantly beginning, changing, rising, falling.
I loved the analogy used in the book I'm reading, Peace Of Mind, on the concept of impermanence and endings. How it's very scary to believe that before you existed, you were nothing, and after you die you will be nothing again. But our existences are like a wave. Each wave has a beginning as it rises and a disappearance once it falls. If the wave sees itself as just a wave, it will fear becoming nothing after it crashes. But if the wave can see itself as something larger, as water, it knows it cannot and will never be nothing. the wave doesn't die, it simply transforms.
We are in this constant transformation I think. We grow older, we make friendships, we lose friendships, we find new joy and we find new pain. But clinging on to any of these experiences and treating them as permanent is futile and results in suffering. The past has an entire ocean of waves that have come and gone and I've learned it's physically impossible to hold water between your fingertips. It always gets away. That's the point, I guess. It seems much easier to float with the waves and love them enough to allow them to change.
I see a man, standing in front of these mountains with his arms wide open as his girlfriend takes a picture of him. He's smiling, as if he is seeing the expansiveness of the universe and is holding it in his hands. You would think holding this, the entire universe, in your hands, would get heavy. If that were true, god would be very tired all the time and perhaps that man wouldn't be smiling.
Maybe a better word for holding in this context is embracing, you never really get tired of embracing. Usually, embraces are mutual and loving and make you lighter. I feel like that smiling man feels today, or at least like I imagine him feeling as he embraces the world. I felt the sun on my face and the coffee on my tongue. I saw time with no constraints and no ceilings and no floors or endings. I'm not afraid that the sun is disappearing behind the mountains and soon I will no longer see the wisps of slate-blue clouds above the golden light, or the silhouettes of birds floating across the sky. It no longer feels like an ending, but rather another crash of a wave in the endless flow of eternity. Things are constantly beginning, changing, rising, falling.
I loved the analogy used in the book I'm reading, Peace Of Mind, on the concept of impermanence and endings. How it's very scary to believe that before you existed, you were nothing, and after you die you will be nothing again. But our existences are like a wave. Each wave has a beginning as it rises and a disappearance once it falls. If the wave sees itself as just a wave, it will fear becoming nothing after it crashes. But if the wave can see itself as something larger, as water, it knows it cannot and will never be nothing. the wave doesn't die, it simply transforms.
We are in this constant transformation I think. We grow older, we make friendships, we lose friendships, we find new joy and we find new pain. But clinging on to any of these experiences and treating them as permanent is futile and results in suffering. The past has an entire ocean of waves that have come and gone and I've learned it's physically impossible to hold water between your fingertips. It always gets away. That's the point, I guess. It seems much easier to float with the waves and love them enough to allow them to change.
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