Bookmark #276

The sun graces my balcony for about an hour and a half, starting about two in the afternoons during winters. Lately, it has become my favourite part of the day. Of course, I often get caught with some worldly business during the time, only to keep staring out the glass door to my balcony as I finish a meeting or wrap some work that makes little sense in the grand scheme of things. I often tell myself neither does anything else, even the sweet space of reading the worldly business in question makes me miss. I often fail to convince myself, though.

I couldn’t speak for others, of course, but I knew what I knew, and I knew what I had learned. Or at least, I knew what I was learning slowly, deliberately, one day at a time. I was learning that it was not too difficult for me to be happy. That I did not need much beyond what I had managed to build so far; that with some adjustment, I would be okay with less as well. It is one of the great perks of growing up without much wealth to be able to fit yourself amidst the gifts of life, however scarce or abundant they may be at any point in time.

As I stepped onto the balcony the other day, I looked around as one tends to do when one leaves a room. I stared at the view, which has cogently proven itself quite dynamic to my surprise and reluctant acceptance. Until now, I’ve claimed hills stayed the same, that no matter what happens, it is the same landscape over and over, that it is the sea which is to be looked at in awe. I stand corrected. The first thing I do when I step into the balcony is wait. I pause before taking a step to look at the view, which is always different. It has become quite the ritual. I’ve learned it is important to pause before taking a step, however banal the step may be when you’re taking it.

In any case, lately I’m learning to be happy in ways I never thought possible. I don’t know much else, and trying to say more would be forcing it. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned after almost destroying myself, holding too tightly onto things too far gone, it’s that nothing good ever came out of making things overstay their welcome.

// if you want to support this walk to nowhere, you can pitch in here