‘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.