Sounds dramatic, doesn’t it. But earlier this week the standstill I wrote about was complete. I just didn’t have it in me anymore to keep going, to continue what I was doing.
So I was ordered to stand still. I was ordered to rest and to let the world move on.
It was harder than I thought because the little processor up here is addicted to its own buzziness.
But I’m slowly getting back to my senses again. And by senses I don’t mean the rational ones (or should I say one).
Last night while we were having dinner it struck me I had finished my meal without even having tasted the bites that went into it. Extrapolate the metaphor and you get something like a guy catching his last breath realizing he didn’t even experience what lied between his first cry and his final sigh.
I’ve realized that in order to answer my questions I will have to allow myself again to slow down. Only then I’ll be able to use all my senses again to their fullest extent. Only then I’ll start to know where I am. Only then I’ll be able to determine what I want (for now).
Other metaphor to close this post:
Imagine a surfer paddling like crazy to catch the waves that lie in front of him. By the time he gets to the beach the waves are gone. But the surfer doesn’t give up so he keeps paddling and paddling. The sun is about to set and all other surfers are getting out of the water. Our surfer is disappointed. He thinks he’s a failure because he hasn’t caught any wave.
So he closes his eyes and lies down on his board. For a few minutes he’s all alone, being rocked back and forth by the ocean. He notices how nice it is to let the sea carry him. Gradually his breath is slowing down until it’s synchronised with the rhythm of the waves. The surfer opens his eyes, starts peddling and hops on his board only to find himself riding the wave of the season.
Feel it? )