I like to write when I feel emotional.
Or more correctly, when the emotion feels raw.
I am sat in the epitome of security and comfort.
On a little sofa, tunes of comfort on my headphones, rain drops pitter pattering outside on the window.
Grey, non dramatic, placid skylines, that do nothing to set the tone.
One must decide for themselves the interpretation of the mood for today.
I realised today on one of my regular walks,
Everybody in life slips away.
Parents, siblings, ex boyfriends, friends from school.
They still roam the planet yes.
But my deep heartfelt connections to those people gone.
Even my parents to whom the bond feels the strongest in a sense,
My actual connection, of being able to speak about any matter,
And feel heard, understood, or relatable is limited.
How many true, real and deep connections do we make in our lives?
And how many of those stand the test of time?
Who then is a consistent and reliable person throughout our lifetimes?
Maybe such a thing does not exist.
Maybe this is what the Budda was always referring to with change is only consistent.
In an ever changing, ever spinning, ever revolving planet, how then do we find stability?
A central axis?
We must derive our sense of self from nothing other than ourselves.
Nothing other than our blood, bones and tissue matter.
Our ethereal components, and our untold mysteries.
No hobby defines us.
No job or career move.
No beliefs or identifications of any kind.
Just flow, like water.
What is water?
It is a drop.
A drop in the oceans, which contains everything in that small cell, that droplet.
It has the power and courage of the entire Ocean within that droplet.
It has the calm and wisdom of an entire landscape.
That is how we are.
We do not need to demonstrate anything; calm or power.
We are droplets, part of the whole.
With everything we will ever need, inside our very own water bubble.