I always look forward to Saturdays. A day of performance, a day of rest, a day of nothing that isn’t required and everything that is.
I started with a short walk through the local park. The sun broke through drifting clouds and lit the delicate leaves just beginning to turn, green sliding toward a deep, vibrant red. It’s the kind of colour that stops passers-by where they stand, staring at something pure. Nature’s beauty can feel just out of reach, the way music that moves you wraps around you like a cloud of comfort you never want to leave.
From there, I walked into town and sat down for coffee at the only coffee shop there is. That may have been a mistake. A group of fellow students joined me, all caught up in the need to justify their journey. It’s not unusual, and I’ve seen it many times, but some days I could really do without it.
It’s not a big deal, but it feels like a foreign energy to me. Why do we need to believe we have the answers? Why dress our choices in larger concepts we don’t understand on any level?
The more I hear, the more I listen, the less I want. It makes life simpler. The truth is that the less I know, or perhaps the less I believe I know, the more comfortable I become.
I lasted about thirty minutes before it was time to head to the park, find a tree and get lost in a book.
There’s a peace in the solitude I seek, and it has become one of the most important things in my life. It’s the one element that lets me keep having the greatest conversation I’ve ever had, the one with myself, where questions are asked, turned over in my mind, yet rarely answered. Just the way I like it.