View into the Valley

As I am starting to tune in into the rhythm of this writing, I feel rather tired. Both of us have been very busy in getting things done. And we definitely need some real rest. The last years we have skipped our vacations. You can’t have it both ways: living in two beautiful places alternately and having vacations on top of that. Our wealth is invested in the creativity inherent to our way of living. And therefore we respect the material limits on our possibilities. It is just within these limits that we try to explore and develop unorthodox ways to enrich our experiences. Our miscellaneous activities in the context of Blipworld form an essential ingredient which we try to fulfil without feeling under pressure. But some undercurrent of “must” inevitably rises to the surface, when you ought to relax, listen to music, make an evening stroll in the dark.

So quite understandably this all will reinforce the fatigue as a form of resistance against the fulfilling of a promise. A promise I made to myself. That I would really make an effort to write down some essential meaning of this day as it passes. Not to fight potential boredom. Not to prove that I could have been “a writer” or “a poet” or “a practical philosopher” or something like that. So, not as any counterweight against the sad negativity of having wasted my life. Nobody can change the past by making it unhappened. Any form of undoing the past will be in vain.

Acceptance in serenity is only a starting point. Dropping preoccupations with the past of with present irrelevancies or hampering distractions or disturbancies comes next. Fatigue is no excuse. It will offer you a new opportunity to discover what is so relaxing in yawning. Here I miss my cat sitting on my writing table, “mon chat parmi les papiers”. My cat would doze in the warmth of the desk lamp. And then stretch her legs and back, open her mouth, yawn with a curling toungue. Eventually completing my writing by walking over the keyboard. Or just lay flat out over my paperwork and books. So intensely happy and content.

But as I said, you can’t have it all. And when you look closer into that marvellous misty Weservalley and share the feeling of beauty, I had as I walked up the road here. In the beginning of the evening under a veiled lowering sun, I could feel connected in farsightedness with a world in perspective of darkness to come. An experience in unspeakable richness, without any trace of fatigue...