Sad/Beautiful

Shivers for survival stir in my core, as the thin, black trench coat does little to mitigate my loss of body heat. It’s cold enough to feel the bite, but the isolation keeps me still as I stand on the bridge alone. Drawn in by zigzagging light dancing on the water’s surface, I don’t want to move. There is something satisfying about being alone in the wilderness, gazing motionless at the water’s great expanse — its fluid movement about itself and everything it encounters, its moment to moment unity and discontinuity and re-unity.

I want to join it.

Here, now, I feel insignificant. Nothing is expected of me. I can just be.

I can flow through everything and everything can wash over and through me. I’m energy, moving through more energy. No separation of self exists.  I’ve ceased being a discreet reality.

It is sad, beautiful clarity.

Everything is insignificant, and if everything is insignificant, then everything is okay.

I gather my things and continue forward, believing.

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One thought on “Sad/Beautiful

  1. I remember loving this post when I first encountered it several weeks ago, so I thought I’d return and leave a comment. To me it reads like a combination of noir and mysticism– a fascinating blend with an eerie, beautiful aesthetic effect.

    Like

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