Being here, being now, being home.
We feel the same. We are not feeling immediately getting older, but we realize aging in larger steps. When we are in our thirties we are realizing that we are no more teenagers, in our fifties we are feeling that the twenties are over. However, overall we always believe we are the same. We are not realizing that life is change.
Everything changes. Our body does not only grow older, he regenerates himself regularly. Cells are replaced, renewed, repaired. So from which point onwards are we different to what we were before? Is it one cell exchange or twenty or a million? When is a change a change? It is a matter of definition and to define something it is a matter of our mental state.
Our mental state is how we realize our life and experience the world. We can change our mental state, we can accept the change and realize that the moment is now and we are now, so we are in the moment. We are not yesterday or tomorrow, we are right now. And this now is changing constantly.
We can run freely, but this is not the point.
We can talk freely, but this is not the point.
We can listen freely, but this is not the point.
The point is to reflect on your free-running.
The point is to reflect on your free-talking.
The point is to reflect on your free-listening.
We are damned to run, talk and listen freely.
We are damned to rethink our behavior.
We are damned to be free.
We live that life but want that other life.
We do these things but want to do other things.
We see have one thing but urgently need the newer one.
That life is the life of the Ego.
That life is the life of sufferings.
That life has to become this life.
Here and now.
We don’t need these or that life.
We have our life.
Here and now.
No air moving.
Every movement is too much.
The sweat moves slowly.
The air burns.
The tarmac is burning.
Burning heat all around.
Clouds are appearing.
Clouds with refreshing rain.
Clouds shielding the sun.
The rain comes down in big drops.
Rainwater cools the air, the tarmac, the people.
You dance in the warm rain.
Born out of the seed of thought.
Building something new.
Sometimes recreating old things.
Sparks for a short time only.
Grows until it bursts like a bubble.
An idea is an idea is an idea.
That is what the world drives.