Day 1769, fruitful.

Daily picture, Poetry

You sometimes hear these stories, where two or more people meet each other by coincident, and something blooms out of that encounter. It can be the start of relationship, or of a fruitful project, or along friendship. Maybe you have one of those stories, or have embellished the story of how you met a significant other, to make it more special.

I am not a statistician, but the chance that you have one of these encounters is probably small, maybe a couple of times in a lifetime. It is hard to say, but have you ever thought about all the near misses. Imagine that you live in a small town with 100 000 people. Of those 100 000, maybe 10 are a match for you, as a friend, lover, or for a partnership. The chance that you are at the same place, at the same time, and have some kind of introduction is really small. Even if you are in the same circle of interest, you have to be lucky that you get close to each other and have a reason to talk. It is not impossible off course, as I said, it will probably happen in your lifetime a couple of times.

Imagine that same town, where you have a small change that everything comes together for you to have this fruitful meeting with one of those 10 “matches”. The change that you get close to those people on a regular basis is probably high. You probably shared a bus together, or past each other in the supermarket or on the street, without ever knowing that you are close to someone of great interest to you. You might sit next to someone that, if you get acquainted, might mean that your life could make a significant turn.

It is just an observation, there is no moral to this story. It might help to be more friendly to others, and to keep your senses open for signs of shared interests, and maybe trow a line out every now and then, if you think someone might bite.

The inspiration for today comes from Day 1517, written in May of last year

I still follow the lines

that life throws

in front of me



I should have grabbed one

Day 1750, white road marks.

Day's pictures, Poetry

I had periods in my life that depression debilitated my will. The light, life, all of it, felt like it was not there, and at the same time, it was all there and pressing the air out of me. Like a good Marine I obeyed my superior, in this case my shrink, and injected my life with routine like walking the dog everyday for a couple of hours. The same route, the same stick to throw. All this outside, and the world, that had made me sick, was also the thing that healed me at the end.

In life, the things you love, are often also the things that make you sick. An obvious one is off course unhealthy snacks, a cigarette or driving to fast on your motorcycle. You can also think of the relation you have with you parents, friends or your wife or husband. The unhealthy things in the first category are never healthy, they are tolerable when you reduce the intake to a minimum, and if you like driving fast, you should go to a race track twice a year. The second category can also be toxic at the same time that you love them.

With your friends and family you might take a little bit more distance, if you feel that gas is building up in your stomach, but if you are married, and also have kids, it becomes much harder to put distance between you and them. A lot of people will choose the easier road that leads to a divorce, but if you use the same routine that helped me getting over my depression, confronting it all in a structured way, you might find the reason again why you once loved this all.

There is a reason why you loved your life, wife, husband and kids once. The reason is… that you loved them…and there is nothing rational about it. Al the stupid things you do in life, you do because you love it, not because you thought your way into it. And because there is no reason for it, there is no reason to stay with it, or with the person you once loved, if that love is gone. But I once lost my love for life, and life has also no reason, but I found the love for it back again when I walked the dog.

My girlfriend and I, we are no sentimental fools or hopeless romantics. We have our routines that guide us like the white road marks besides the road do. This guidance helps us, specially when it is dark, you can see where the road ends, and the ditch starts, and steer the relationship down the road with more ease. This way I also have more time to look to the side at her, like I did in those first days when the car was still in cruse control.

The poem is from Day 1324, November 2019

I turned

and a dark forest arose

from where I was





though soon

the familiar sound

that brings you down

brings you back

to the light

like a stream

to the sea