Monday, September 22

A meditation spot

I long for a perch. Two endless ropes ropes reaching into the heavens, a beam between them. High enough above the sidewalks, the fences, the houses, the high-rise apartments, the skyscrapers, that they form cute colourful carpet, like a child's playmat. Just me and those long, long ropes, so long that I cannot see how they are affixed in the surrounding blue. Perhaps God had had mercy on me, took me in his hand and carefully deposited me on this perch, so as to keep me safe, isolated by a cushion of blue sky. Worries could not reach me here. Not even birds, metal or feathered, came to this place. Nor was this mine; it would be the first and last time I could seek this blue space - peace - as refuge. Time had no meaning; an eternity here would return me still to the moment I had left, and even after having spent unmeasurable amounts of time in this place, it would still feel as though I had only just begun. I must return soon. The pain of my human state was that time was constantly passing, one could only do so much with one's life. It was what gave life meaning, the redeeming quality of humanity.

Swing, I could! Pump my legs to gain height, gravity still weakly in effect. At first my movements feel like vain struggling in an apathetic ocean, but soon the two endless ropes bend. Swing wide, a huge deliberate arc, as though the only purpose was to swing. Swing through the whole sky, stretch to infinity. Swing higher, barefly faster, but there it was! Higher still, achieve more than ever before, faster too, keep going... Close to the tipping point, the swing jumps from the arc for a second, real flight! Then a huge swing back, higher, more. Once more a momentary escape from the arc, once more a giant tug back, the air rushing past my ears, a third swing to freedom, lay back and whistle through the wind, an arrow for its target, freedom, freedom, freedom!

Flying falling freedom

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