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Riding the Winds

There is a type of music that lets your mind ride on its tail-winds. Up and down, slower, faster, a pause… Slightly unpredictable, so you cannot drift into a thinking mode; you do not have much choice but follow its movement. Classical music is sometimes like that; jazz is even closer to what I mean. My daughter made me listen to the music of St. VIncent in the car the other day. Although I cannot say that I liked it much, I appreciated its musical patterns, the pauses and movements through which small patches of emptiness can be glimpsed. The mind can glide on its winds rather than ride on the winds of its own thoughts.

Thoughts by the Lake



It was one of those magical spring afternoons in which the wind was so gentle that my skin felt almost dissolved by its touch. My dog was waiting impatiently for her ball and I was staring at the lake over the stretching field in front of me. Further down, at a throw-of-a-ball distance, there was a young man clad in lycra. He was also looking ahead and I thought that he was enjoying the view. It was pleasant to know that another person was participating in my immense contentment and peace... Until he spoke and I realised that I have missed the white piece protruding from his ear. It was sticking out in a quite silly manner, like a shiny bone, completely out of place. His mind wasn't resting on the beauty I was enjoying. He was on his phone, talking business. 

I just wonder if nature, eventually, will not reject us like a woman, who is not paid enough attention. Women do not seem to like being ignored.

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