life

Day 2111, from my window 11.

Day's pictures

The world is slowly turning, but I can still see the remainder of this beautiful sunset when I look over my shoulder. 

Essays, Of custom, and that we should not easily change a law received.

“My perfumed doublet gratifies my own smelling at first; but after I have worn it three days together, ’tis only pleasing to the bystanders. This is yet more strange, that custom, notwithstanding long intermissions and intervals, should yet have the power to unite and establish the effect of its impressions upon our senses, as is manifest in such as live near unto steeples and the frequent noise of the bells. I myself lie at home in a tower, where every morning and evening a very great bell rings out the Ave Maria: the noise shakes my very tower, and at first seemed insupportable to me; but I am so used to it, that I hear it without any manner of offense, and often without awaking at it.”

Michel de Montaigne

 

Day 2110, from my window 9.

Day's pictures

Most people’s inner lives are hidden behind a mist, like the trees in this picture. We all have lost people we love in our lives, and for me, it has always been emotional, not only for the fact that you can never speak with them again but more so for all the stories that are gone, buried with them.

Because life to me is a relatively predictable event, I like to embellish my own history and spin a propper story for me to remember and give life some ground and meaning. We probably all do that one way or another. When my grandmother died, she took with her a whole life of experiences, and we were left with only hints to them; her life story was gone. It made me sad that life made her keep all these stories to herself and sad that I never properly tried to talk to her about it. Because, I ask you: what is life but just a few great moments and emotions you experience. My grandmother’s most significant moments and wisdom are forever gone, and I wished she had shared them so they could live on in me and others.

I see value in a life that makes sense and does not just pass by, as Socrates said years ago: “an unexamined life is not worth living.” An “examined” life can be told in a few sentences and given as a gift to your loved ones when your time has come.

Day 2099, thin ice?

Day's pictures

I had this picture of ice on a lake and the bed underneath, and both are not in focus, but it leaves enough to my imagination. I wanted to write something clever about it, but I lost my appetite. I just read a news article about some right-wing nutcases in America with a picture of four guys fully dressed in army fatigues and weapons everywhere. I look at their faces, and I just don’t understand these people; they obviously take themselves really serious.  Personally, I believe that you always have to be critical of the answers you give yourself and the ones others give you. Doubt is not easy, but a militiaman or anti-vaxxer will have never take their stance if they question themselves.

There are billions of opinions, and my only conclusion out of that is that they cannot all be true. Claiming that yours is true is not enough; even a majority can be wrong. God and his claims are also not enough; there are thousands of God’s and even more religions.

For the same reason that we all agree that one plus one is two, we should also search for other truths that fit in that same category. Think about all your opinions; could they be universal, or are they just particular to your situation?

Day 2098, little stone.

Day's pictures

There is a crack in my window, and I know it distorts my view when looking outside, and some warmth is escaping through the tiny hole. On the other hand, I always forget to ventilate enough when warming the house with a fire, and when I want to look outside, I have many other windows to look through undisturbed. The crack should off course, not be there; it’s not meant to be like that. But I also like the crack and the form it took after the impact from the little rock I threw to get your attention; it’s a memory, one I will never forget, with or without the crack. I like the crack.

Day 2094, On the other side.

Day's pictures

Today I was in the hospital for a minor operation; I had a hernia in the groin. It was the first time for me to be in a hospital for myself and not for a visit. Like I approach most things in life, I was quite interested in the process. It was not that interesting or exhilarating looking back, but I remember two things the most: when I took a selfie for my family, I saw myself in the picture as an old guy in a hospital. Both things are, of course, through, but it is the instant association with hospitals and sickness when you see these “clothes” on you. Seeing myself like this made it immediately different from a routine visit to the doctor or dentist. It was not stressful; it just made it more official and serious than the feeling I had when I went into it, just an observation. Maybe we could have some fancier and more colorful clothes next time, and all the patients wear a baseball cap with a smile on it, so everybody still knows who’s who, just a little bit more joy and colors.

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Day 2091, afar.

Day's pictures, Poetry

I stand afar

in front of these massive

black

ancient rocks

~

formed a billion years ago

it’s not their size

that makes me feel small

~

when it sheds its next rock

a cliff

into the valley below

loosened by cold and sun

~

we might all be long

gone

~

we are not even a cliff

an outlook

we are like the snow

that fell to low

on its slope

Day 2088, or anything else.

Day's pictures

Jiddu Krishnamurti

When you call yourself an Indian or a Muslim or a Christian or a European, or anything else, you are being violent. Do you see why it is violent? Because you are separating yourself from the rest of mankind. When you separate yourself by belief, by nationality, by tradition, it breeds violence. So a man who is seeking to understand violence does not belong to any country, to any religion, to any political party or partial system; he is concerned with the total understanding of mankind.