Sometimes, I wish I could live in a world without borders; any kind of borders. I wish I could rise above my anger and not allow it to overpower my sanity. I wish that I could forgive without someone inside me asking me to; and then forget. I wish that I could let go of the hurt of my past and move into every new day with as much enthusiasm as possible. I wish that I could have faith without having to bow down in prayer or without visiting a place of worship; faith that couldn’t be razed, no matter what. I wish that I could let people’s mistakes flow past me and I could learn from watching them, instead of being perturbed by them. I wish I could give all of myself into creating something and yet not feel a tinge of regret when it gets destroyed. I wish I could not allow contempt directed at me to become a part of myself. I wish I could live in a world without borders; of any kind—inside my head.
If not in every day life, but in some stolen moments I have found myself in a world without borders. In a world that is free; where I am immensely calm and I have achieved everything I wished for in the first para of this post. When I close my eyes, I find myself flitting down the stairs in my cottage on a countryside. I find myself in the spotlight of a setting sun whose last rays say goodbye through a window of my cottage. I walk out into the porch and I see a green field blanketing the earth in front of me and behind me. A solitary, but very wise path runs parallel to my home and meets the horizon in the distance. I walk down the steps of my front porch and take the path. The green fields be my company on either side and I walk towards the horizon with wisdom. After walking a distance, on my right, I see a white bench and I sit on it. I am joined by the man I have loved for many centuries, through time and age, and we walk hand-in-hand. Then we run a little and breeze gives us company. The sun slowly descends and we walk into the sunset. After this point in my imagination, I could have died or I could have been reborn, it wouldn’t matter either way. It was just important that I lived a wholesome life; a life without borders. These stolen moments come to me when I listen to Maestro by Hans Zimmer.
And in such contemplation, I have found that music can get us closer to a world without borders, but only a mind that is accepting of such a world shall let it exist. Here’s to imagination, to dreams, and to hope…that someday, I shall be there—in that house, walking into the sunset with my man, and I would have lived a life without borders.
This is brilliant as usual.
:-) Thanks Cal.