Stream of consciousness (writing from Germany) / by Minna Leunig

Wandering across bright green meadows, the warmth of the sun on my back. Pink and white wild flowers brush against my bare legs, and from the woods tall dark trees watch down upon me as I make my way through such beauty it doesn't feel real, like a children's storybook from long ago. I've been starved of the freedom to simply BE for so long, and now every fibre of my being is drinking this feeling in. How did I find myself in the midst of such tranquility? Just for a moment I am fooled into thinking that all is well with the world, that everyone on this earth is okay. It seems so odd to think that they are not, that on the contrary there is a great deal of suffering going on, that just a short time ago the very land upon which I walk now was overwhelmed with the pain and sorrow of countless souls, including my grandmothers, all aching in ways unimaginable to me. And yet here I am, healing little by little in the warm sunshine, delightedly basking in my own solitude.

I feel overwhelmed by the passing of time - tears salty on my cheeks, I am a mere spec sitting at the edge of these woods contemplating just how BIG the world is, like a child might - and I'll never be able to fully grasp the true meaning of it. Thinking about all those who have come before me, and all those who are yet to exist. So many lives and stories I will never know of, so many moments of joy and of sadness felt. Perhaps once feelings come to exist they never truly leave the landscape, but instead become a part of it - like leaves falling from trees that gradually, over many thousands of years build up and become the forest floor. Surely the earth must be overflowing with feeling by now?

I am afraid about what comes next, about the inevitable pain I will face in life, about the lack of guarantees. Society fools you into thinking that life can be made orderly, that things are more or less under control. But they're not. This earth is wild and unpredictable, and the universe doesn't owe you anything. We can't control what comes next or when it comes. We make it up as we go along.

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