8 minutes…

‘Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull what you really love’ Rumi

What we love we love. Our lives unfold as they will once we let them take our hearts. The only real choice is whether we go willingly, give willingly, or wait until the tithe is taken.

Like it or not, we walk the steps of orbits drawn in the skies – moon tugged, sun spun – tied to grandeurs and yet so mini, a little silly, a little less than minuscule.

Our worries, griefs, losses, the narratives we live or die for, are invisible at even a pace, our biggest passions hidden.

We hide even from ourselves, but deep down, far inside, we all know where we are from. We know where we are going. It is written and has been always so.

Star-dust born, we spin even stood still. No one asks our consent. Change is painful, hurtful, harsh, but in truth there is no stasis, only illusion, pretense. After all, we are the children of collapse and catastrophe as much as creation and the universe blazes in our blood.

We are always on the edge. Death always at our shoulder. We are all grave-bred.

They say that if the sun exploded it would take 8 minutes for the last light to touch us before that final night swept in.

If somehow you knew, I wonder what would you do? Would you run and scream or shout? Would you lose yourself in panic, even knowing the end inevitable?

Or would you have the serenity to be, to be who you are, even at the ending of the world? At the moment when you stand face to face with your own nothingness?

I would like to turn my face towards the gold fire, the last love-glow, and enjoy its warmth with the full heat of present memory.

I would like to see it, know it beautiful, perfect, awful and ending, without darkening my last sunshine with anger or fear.

Every end holds the kernel of beginnings and every life a death. It is only that momentary margin we have that makes it count.

Enjoy your sunshine.

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3 Responses to 8 minutes…

  1. That was absolutely beautiful! Thank you for sharing that. It truly touched me.

  2. Hi, I just wanted to say that I followed all of your travel blogs and thought them wonderful. They deserve to be in a collection, perhaps as an ebook? Your last few posts have been so fragile and beautiful, sometimes imbued with a deep sadness and very moving.

    • Dear Becoming, It was a pleasure to find your comment here – I was really touched to read your words because I so very much admire your writing and miss your blog. This has been a time of fragility. I often only seem to see the true when the blog post is written and pinned down on the page..

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