Bookmark #919

Got out of bed and walked a little with a cup of coffee in my hands, not for the purpose of walking, but in the most natural, purposeless way a person can do things. Sat to write but realised a bright sun was out already. What a day this is to do laundry. Changed the sheets on the bed, added them to the load, set the machine spinning and sat to write again. I reckon this is how life is—when I know nothing, young as I am, I will do the dishes and the laundry, and when I am older, much older than who I am today, having lived all the years yet to happen, I will do them still. No will or knowledge spares a person from the banality of life. The most enlightened people still need to eat, and the man meditating under the tree is a religious myth. True enlightenment, if there ever was or can be such a thing, is in the mundane. This is, of course, a consistent argument I have made in these words. But that I repeat something has no hold over my loyalty to it. We tell people we love that we love them, and we do it over and over again, and we do it when we get a chance. This does not mean we love them any less; it is only that we still do. All things need reassurance, convictions most of all. And my convictions, for better or for worse, lie in living this life in the broadest way I can.

And what is the biggest conviction than love? I love the rain. I long for it. I do not, however, curse the heavens when the sky is sunny. I love the rain with conviction. That it is sunny outside has no bearing on it; it changes nothing about how I feel about the rain. Good things are good despite circumstance. And if it does rain, when it does, I will tell it; I will whisper under my breath, and I will sigh in relief, and with it, I will reassure myself, and if a force as natural needs any reassurance, then, I will reassure the rain, too. And that is how things will go, and between today and then, the sun will glare and shine brutally, and on all such days, I will do the dishes and on some of them, the laundry. And there will also be coffee and a lot of life in between, which will come and go like the morning news, and things will go on as they go, as they have gone.

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