Festive Farewells

[Initial title: Goodbye Gravity]

I keep hearing my man talking about gravity, antigravity (which I take as when you’re falling upwards), flying saucers (with or without aliens, ancient or modern) and even some kind of iron bell (Die Glocke) taking a few villains out of their crumbling realm (not in a prisonbreak but a timebreak maybe).

Gravity is like sin. It pulls you down to dirt. Or out to vanity. The body, disjointed from its soul, falls. Subject to gravity. Up or down. Left or right. This is not about direction. It is about location. Is your body present in the ‘here’ of your soul? Or is it wandering after some ‘where’ of past or future? Absence is the tragedy of existence and gravity gives absence a chance that it never had. Otherwise. […]

It was Thursday morning when I’ve written the above lines, and when I had to pause my dreaming.

Today, my twins complete a mild milestone. And there’s much festivity to prepare and to attend there. These matters seem like mini weddings to me, even if they call them farewells. I cooked and ironed until midnight, or was it an hour past?

Anytime, another kid is expected to arrive home. She will help her little sister with makeup initiation. I sense competition between the two big sisters, for their celebrated little one. After they… They call me upstairs, gotta go! […]

Back to the kitchen, checking the oven, I continue my dictation. My little one wanted but my hands in her hair. Perhaps she’s not prepared to trust the modernism of her greater sisters. Wished to give her the Lissy looks. With a touch of Scarlett? That’s not totally determined by hair alone. I guess. […]

Savoring five minutes of coffee at the window, watching how the cat licks the head of her extremely cute cub, I allow my flamingos to fly again. When they do, leaving the waters behind and below, it seems like they defy gravity. But they don’t. The birds teach us about the harmony of searching for the winds and graciously letting it go. […]

It was morning when I’ve written the above paragraphs. Flowers, festivities, feasts, feelings, fortunes and faith in the present, trusting the future. All wrapped up in a single Saturday.

Thursday morning, I had a quite different idea about this blog. The winds have turned and so did my ideas. For this weekend. Let’s see what will happen next. Back to gravity, for now.


4 thoughts on “Festive Farewells

  1. Your gravity thoughts reminded me of these words by Dylan: It was gravity that pulled us down and destiny that tore us apart / You tamed the lion in my cage but it wasn’t enough to tame my heart. Gravity keeps us from falling off the planet, but when an apply falls from a tree, it falls in the dirt. So, gravity is fickle. It holds us and lets us go … Those were my thoughts, by the way, not Mr Dylan’s.

    1. Clever man, Dylan.
      Destiny could be the suitable euphemism for regrets of the past, or maybe just another great word in the mouth of political minds.
      You wrote this: “We make our own destiny, not because we can see the road ahead, but because we cannot see the road ahead.”
      And I love it.
      Doris πŸ™‚

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