A Tapestry of Thoughts

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Each thought that we have, is a prompt to action. That’s it, that’s all.

Recently, I’ve been busy thinking about all sorts. Photography, graphics, writing, loss and death, and the mystery of cats.

I’m 62 years old. Days pass quickly.

When Thursday comes around, that’s the day I can start doing what I want. I want to write articles, take some meaningful photos, and work on my book projects, but before I know what’s happened it’s Monday morning again. I have appointments to attend to on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Then it is Thursday again. Great.

Time flies. So do thoughts.

Time passes like a river, and thoughts are like the flotsam that drifts along that river. We have to be careful not to mistake the flotsam as a life raft. There is no life raft.

Hanging on to thoughts as if they are the thing that gives us meaning, is a mistake.

A thought should pass, just like the days of the week, each thought is like a cloud that drifts by.

The big blue sky behind the thought has more to offer than the cosy fluffy cloud which seems warm and comforting.

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I’ve been pretty good at learning how to let go in life.

Sometimes, I let an idea that I love to drift away, because it has wasted my energy, and I must be disciplined enough to recognise that. So I detach myself from it.

It’s always a relief to become detached from a false passion. One that leads you up the garden path of life. Occasionally, you recognise that you’ve been duped, and you catch-on in time. You nip it in the bud. You feel the energy flow again.

Other times, it’s ripped from us. That dark figure, the Ferryman, has taken friends and lovers from me. And I had to accept it.

Death and loss, can teach us a lesson. How we must be able to adapt even under the most brutal circumstances. There’s no choice, that’s that.

When a person is taken from us, it’s as if they simply disappear. Their image is strong and vivid in our minds, so we think that they must exist somewhere, it’s just that they are not in our circle of life, anymore.

23 years ago, my then partner died, suddenly.

She was 29 years old, beautiful, and full of passion. Then out of nowhere, life changed, and she was gone. Her life came to an end. I loved her with all my heart.

She was an artist with great passion, my life bound to hers with the same passion. I felt like we were one person, always together.

We climbed the Alps together, we walked through dark forests and explored distant places together. We built a cosy home together. We had lazy Sunday mornings, and actioned packed years together. Then it ended, that’s that. I learned a lesson.

To have loved her with all of my heart, then be terribly heartbroken, was worth every minute of my life. To have known her. To always know her, forever.

I have always carried a small photograph of her in my wallet. Black and white. I only take it out and look at it when I feel I need to see her. The idea of her, all in black and white.

My thoughts fill the gap, the years have passed. I lived on. She’s gone. Her smile lives in my heart.

The memory of a smile can be filled with a lifetime of love.

Counting years doesn’t matter. Existing, does.

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It’s hard for the mind to grasp the unknown. Death is an unknown. There’s nothing to say about it, except that we don’t really know what it means.

Thoughts that drift through our mind can be powerful. They create the basis for the beliefs we have.

When we allow a tapestry of thoughts to grow, and weave their magic, we can become beguiled by their beauty.

To move on, become detached, and live life while the living is good, is the most important and meaningful thing we can do.

Each thought that we have, is a prompt to action. That’s it, that’s all.

We can only understand meaningfulness as we live life; actions, and results, mistakes and corrections, to walk the lesser trodden path and discover the beauty and wonder of existence, is a good life.

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