For me life is made out of little, simple pleasures:
waking up and smelling apples in the oven.
A smile on the street.
Sitting on a rock while looking at the horizon after long days.
A cold shower and clean sheets after a long time in the wilderness.
A book catching me deeply and getting me absorbed in its world for hours.
Phone calls with my favourite people.
Spending time in silence with people i am comfortable with; together, absorbed in our own worlds.
A backpack on my shoulders, in a place I’ve never been before.
Not knowing where to turn and seeing a sign with my name, number on it or a significant message.
A hug; a deep one, with eyes closed.
Rain on my skin.
Sound of rain on a tent, or on a rooftop.
Wind through leaves.
The warmth of fire, the cracking of its logs.
Walking through a forest and meeting no one for hours.
An animal comfortably approaching me for the first time.
The green of nature.
The sound of rivers.
Plunging in cold rivers.
This small things are little reminders of the beauty of life.
They keep me going and recharge me with so much grace.
Growing up i struggled to fit in, in a world so fast and with so little time for the things i considered important.
All these people running over the clock, not able to notice the little ant they were about to crush on their shoe.
Fancy restaurants but they never noticed the abundant shapes of the clouds that very day.
Living in the same place as me, but they never visited the nature parks, fed the squirrels or rested their tired feet in the river.
I could hear all their complaints about me being different, but they could not feel my words.
All I wanted to do was to sit on a park bench and enjoy the new day showing up through the grass.
Being blessed to say goodbye to the dew and hello to the bees.
The simplicity of life was my muse and my struggle.
My struggle, because it was reminding me all that has ever been, that I could be (but thought I couldn't) instead of forcing myself to conform in a life that I did not want, to please people that weren't my crowd.
My muse, because she was gently there, reminding me all the time to be, to experience, to remember, to come back, to slow down.
Little by little, I stopped resisting this deep calling and I surrendered to it.
I allowed myself to be a student of a very silent teacher.
A very wise, loving, frightening, compassionate, deep, always on time master.
France, Summer 2023
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