Wednesday, 13 February 2013

Night walks

There is an otherness to walking at night, a beautiful detachment.

Down tunneled streets, stretching dark matching never-ending thoughts, full stops of light. When I walk at night I feel the weather, I feel the press of it around me acutely, the wind whirling, sending my thoughts out into the swallowing blackness. There is mindfulness and mindlessness- an appreciation of what the world around me is and an easing of the wash of thoughts and feelings that have been tumbling into each other. My dog pulling me along, following the white of her tail and the pitter patter of her paws, a sense of just walking,  going forwards- anywhere, into the night. There is nowhere in particular to go, walking for walking sake, for the simple joy of being able to move and be in the world.

The smell of woodsmoke  bearing down a heavy scent into my nose,  fibres of woody-earthiness, breathing through me and into my imagination of cosy rooms, pulled up cushions and flickering, soft, fire. Glancing into passing cubes of light; shining frames holding  picture upon picture of homes. My eyes pass over, again and again, one lounge after another and with each sweep of vision, there's a small recognition and mental comfort in being a passing observer of  the lives lived in a home. The glow of human comfort and contentment seeping into the blackness of the night outside.

Wednesday, 6 February 2013

too late?

By this age is your life set on a certain course, is it ever set on a certain course and can we change its direction when we want? But sketched across my horizon are ifs and buts of why this can be and why that cannot be and I want to erase them so that anything is possible.

Some days I do think everything is possible and others I  think nothing is and I wonder how can that be, how can the same person believe in everything whilst simultaneously believing in nothing.

I'm starting to believe that all the job applications I ever send are sent to the same mocking person who sees I've tried again and laughs at my poor attempts to portray who I am and what I am capable of via a piece of paper, where my life and all my past achievements and experiences have to be placed within carefully construed boxes that allow no expression of you are. It is an impasse and a burdening need to know which way now and finding its never going to be in the direction you thought.  

I'm feeling that life is passing me by but is it really? If I can find enough in each day and discover some new thought and perspective that finds me sitting right in the belly of living, noticing I'm alive and the moments that make me feel that way then life is always present and not a passive thing. Present living, not passive living where the days hurl by you and you can't tell one from the other, I want each day to have something significant in it for me that marks it out as a unique as that specific day, a character unto itself .

There will never be another Wednesday 6th February 2013-never, I will never have as long left of this life as I have right now this second- never so all of it has to count for something. I need to use my seconds like water to a dying man, utterly valuable and entirely necessary.