Travel me like poetry Facebook ad: “One day, without knowing it, you set out…”

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One day, without knowing it, you set out on your way. The Mountain (Setting In Motion) By Sophie Rouméas I do not know whether, upon coming into the world, your singularity will be recognized, encouraged, celebrated. I do not know whether your family, your school, your community, or the chances of life, will know how to see what makes you unique. Nor do I know how long the universe will take to send you signs, or how long you will take to receive them. Sometimes, to survive— physically, emotionally, spiritually, intellectually— one must first be accepted. So singularity retreats, becomes secondary, held in waiting. Until the day when, by other paths, you rediscover your original singularity. There is no bad part within you, nor one that is right or less worthy. There is what is, and what helps you navigate the ocean we call life. Some say that evolution resembles the ascent of a mountain. This mountain may seem to you arduous or gentle, steep, varied, at times luminous. You will encounter the seasons there— yours, and those of others. There will be slippery leaves or stones, steps to begin again, others to lose further on. At times, your mountain will be solitary. At other times you will cross paths with beings who walk alongside you for a while, or who descend. There will be plateaus to catch your breath, and perhaps also to grow bored. Boredom is never a loss. In modern cosmology, time does not exist. It is perception in motion: a face that changes, a body that grows and then diminishes— if that is how one chooses to look at the thread of life. As you walk your mountain, you will encounter beliefs. Some will have allowed you to love life, others to drift away from it. You will then be able to choose: which values, which beliefs, allow you to live in inner harmony and with the world— human, animal, vegetal, mineral. You will sometimes find markers left by others. They may suggest a direction. It is up to you to assess, with your senses and your instinct, whether these markers are right for you. No one walks the same mountain. There will be days of thirst and days of abundance. You will look for rivers to drink from, fields in which to rest. If you stop, if you listen to the silence as thoughts grow quiet, you may hear an inner light whispering words, of comfort—or of growth. At the summit, the wind may be strong. You may feel tempted to descend a little, to integrate the path you have traveled. Uprooted trees will sometimes block your way, forcing you to take a detour, for a time only. You will pass hills, ravines, a hidden valley, sunsets and dawns. There will even be days without reflection. Each day, you train your breath, your body, your presence, to persevere. Beyond perfection, life seeks a stable resonance. Even if you do not yet see the fruits of the effort, you are rhythm in the making. There will be beings whose closeness you choose out of love or loyalty— or sometimes both. And others from whom you will step away for the sovereignty of your being, for your safety, for your integrity. There will be days when you will want to turn back to return to the familiar. The familiar is sometimes more reassuring than the unknown, even before knowing whether it is better. You cannot change where you come from. Yet what has shaped you is not what defines you. But each day, you can choose how you walk, how you rest, what meaning you give to your actions, your thoughts, your relationships, your silences, and even the turmoil of the world. Each step taken today naturally reshapes the past. Ask yourself sometimes: What am I feeling right now— does it belong to me? In learning to answer that question lie serenity and detachment. You are not asked, so early, to detach from love, nor even from suffering. Only to detach from what does not belong to you, to change what you can, and to accept what you cannot change. Perhaps you will ask yourself: What is found at the summit? Each step can bring you closer to yourself, where all winds converge, where the infinity of being and of beings, of realms, of circumstances, gathers into a vision of three hundred and sixty degrees. And then: What comes after? There is also the art of descending, of sometimes slipping, falling, getting back up, doubting. Why descend? One never makes the journey for oneself alone; one always descends for the living. So, dear soul, live with presence, fully and rightly. May you honor the path you have walked, the light recognized, given and received, and the zones of shadow you dared to explore, within yourself and in meeting others. And then let us continue. What comes next will reveal itself at the rhythm of your steps. Photos from Guillaume Briard on Unsplash #PoetryInMotion #WalkingTheMountain #InnerJourney #ConsciousLiving #Presence #ImprintsAndPathways #TravelMeLikePoetry

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Travel me like poetry