The wind tunnelled warmly through jilted streets. It gushed and threw itself forward, as it came and touched and went. And a red sun set over concrete pillars of mock stability, setting loose golden hues on a city of grey.
Metal things clinked, and engines roared. People spoke and laughed in languages I did not understand. Smells assaulted my nose – sweet and sour, pungent then putrid. Old men staggered by, all smiles and sadness.
There was no escape. I love the jungle, concrete and all, but sometimes it gets a little wild inside.
I remembered green fields, and fresh air, and the way space could just open up, and let you in, carrying you with it for miles, and miles.
And I remembered familiar voices, favourite places and friendly smiles and the way the summer breeze tumbled and tamed. I remembered things I had forgotten long ago. I don’t know why, but they came back to remind me…
There are aspects of my past I have never been able to look fair in the eye. Mistakes I made, that I never quite forgave myself for. Perhaps we all silently carry a few things like that with us, things we don’t share so often, or things we aren’t proud of.
It was on that day, the day where the wind rolled by, that I spent hours watching a city I thought I knew. And on that day I saw the same city in a different light, from a different angle, and I realised I didn’t know it at all.
It’s the same with people, I think. We can look at someone for years, and think we know who they are, but often what we see is what we choose to see. Sometimes it takes a very long time to see that person for who they really are. And it usually means letting go of the person we think they are. Sometimes we box someone up, confining them to our own limited definition, when they should always be free – free to be, and free to become…
It’s much the same with the way we view ourselves. We can spend our whole lives watching ourselves through the same eyes. We may think we simply are a certain way, that it’s in our nature and we are incapable of changing. And from that viewpoint, we often don’t notice that we actually have changed. We don’t notice because we are stuck living within a set of restrictions we placed upon ourselves a long time ago. It can take some time to realise we aren’t that person at all anymore. And it often isn’t until we step back and see ourselves through new eyes, that we really begin to see at all.
We are eternally changing, growing and shifting into something else.
We are all fluid, and ever-changeable. There is great beauty in that. We have the freedom to decide what we want to be, in any given moment. Our past plummets us forward, into a moment, which is always this moment. And in this moment, we are not what we were before. This is the moment we arrived for. And this moment always comes like the wind, spins us around, and goes again.