all the lives

“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.” 

― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

I feel my bones straining today. It is raining, again. After some sunny days in Amsterdam the rain is back as is the low grey sky. Everybody is tired and pale after a winter that took its time. I check the weather report in France every day. I look at the name of our little village in the sun. Sunny and around 25 in the afternoon ever single day. The life I am not living.
Anymore.
Why again?

This is the time to wake up my spirit, to shake it up. Why again? Can you answer me spirit? Can you not let this one be answered by my ego or my reason or some part of me that will get me depressed. Hey spirit, that little part of life there inside of me, what was it we where doing here again in the rain? It does not answer me with words, but with a familiar feeling.  A feeling of worth, of coming home, of purpose. And hey, there’s a smile. And there’s a sweet neighbor that brings me spring flowers and  there’s the smell of mud and worms when I open the door. There’s life all around me, I do not have one life, I’m part of so many at the same time.

 

Painting by Ambrosius Bosschaert, Flowers in a Vase, 1606

 

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