isoldathewanderer

[isoldathewanderer]

"Love, that releases no beloved from loving, took hold of me so strongly with delight that, as you see, it has not left me yet."

From The Divine Comedy, Inferno (Canto V)

[isoldathewanderer]

Light reaches out with gentle, golden hands,

While shadows weave their webs in silent lands.

They wage a war unseen, both fierce and whole,

In the depths of night, they fight for my soul.

[isoldathewanderer]

With the earth ‘neath our feet, and the sea by our side,

In the shadow of stones standing tall,

Where the past leaves its ghostly call,

The spirits rise from their earthen bed,

To follow the path our forebears tread.

[isoldathewanderer]

Ascent.

All I've ever wanted.

Pervasive power thrill, ever-growing, sought after.

Becoming.

My actual being and my idealized persona progressively melted in a web of multiplying threads.

Other levels. Searching. Daring. Different sceneries, bizarre experiences. Fighting for a daily adrenaline and dopamine infusion.

Since I remember being, the same need. Figments of unreality, turning common days into adventures. A life unlike any other one I knew. Needing what others did not.

Hunting obsessively for all facets of my strangeness. Chasing all its aspects and manifestations avidly. Not a staged or fake hunt. Indeed a magnetic pull. Attracting outliers and feeling inexorably drawn to them. Raw and true, authentic.

The infamous and magnificent staircase. Exquisite.

Ascent.

Movements align with feelings, thoughts, scenery and currents.

Unique moments pursued during an entire lifetime.

To have a collection of them is to be wealthy.

Some people live eight decades and do not experience a tiny fraction of LIFE encased in just an hour of that intensity.

Existence as a turning wheel, slowly mutating.

The first part of life (it doesn't need to be half) is focused on achieving, experimenting, trying, meeting, going, collecting (memories, experiences, moments).

The second can (should?) be slower. I may still collect and chase. But without the urgency and speed of other days. Without a list of achievements.

Could it be done if I wasn't happy with how much I had already achieved? Probably not. But here I am, increasingly ready to slow down.

Is there really a moment in life when we think we have reached everything we wanted, and all that comes from now on is a plus?

A moment when we sit back, observe the past and say, with absolute certainty, "I am content with all that was; if I die now, I have no reason to complain".

I've felt it. And I'm thinking about it now, more than ever.

I haven't reached anything resembling our current life expectancy, but I'm sure I've lived more in my life so far than most people in their entire long lives.

At the same time, wouldn't this realization mean we're ready to die? It should, in the most optimistic of ways. When we believe we got all we expected (and more) from life, we should make peace with the idea of dying. Not that I had made this peace. But I hope to.

On the other hand, this notion doesn't inevitably imply giving up on life's interests. When we say "all that comes from now on is a plus ", we certainly value that plus. Every day can be compelling. It's a quite welcomed "plus".

If we go back a century or a little more, people's life expectancy was between 40-50. Besides, most people had no access to most pleasures that make our current lives meaningful. It should make us rethink everything.

Suppose we reach 40 today, with a past of some travel, multiple enjoyments, access to art, music, literature, good food, medical care, and with the bonus of expecting it to last some more years to come. Are we not in a better position than 90% (being conservative) of all people who lived on the planet before us?

So, still enjoying what each day brings but letting go of lofty expectations, I feel privileged.

It's like having a vast collection of cherished works of art and leisurely looking for more, but with no pressure. Suppose I see one and manage to acquire it for my collection - perfect. If I do not, what I already possess is complete enough as it is and pleases me all the same.

In truth, no precious collection has an end, no matter how vast or valuable. The same happens with collecting life's art pieces.

This is how I see moments now. Trips, places, conversations, meetings, even books and movies. If one good enough happens to be achievable (with the proportionate effort that its value returns), I feel lucky. If not, nothing is lacking, and no sense of frustration exists.

This freedom is relatively new to me, a known collector of moments and (former) ambitious achiever.