Read on Medium.
That’s one of my loved places. I cannot visit it often. Actually, I had this possibility only a few times in my life. It’s possible that this is the last one.
I love this place because it’s lonely but welcoming. It’s an elevated location, still surrounded by magnificent mountains. It’s in the heart of the Dolomites, in Italy.
Looking back are high mountains, with a steep gully that leads to gorgeous and isolated places. There’s a small stream, flowing fast, roaring pleasantly, and a lot of boulders that invite you to stay on their top. And I stay. I have my favorite boulder, even if this time I don’t find it.
I rarely come here, still it feels like home. It’s like life had nothing better to offer. I can sit and let my soul expand, or get smaller, or rest. Or disappear. I can leave all go. I’m in direct contact with nature.
Still, our mind is rarely peaceful. I bring here some thoughts too. But it’s a comfortable place where to think.
Curiously, my first impression in this kind of locations is impermanence. Mountains will be there for a long time, but I will not. One day, mountains too will not be there. My preferred boulder seems not to be there already.
It’s not just knowing that everything has an end. It’s the feeling that in any case this actually is the last time that I am here. This moment is unique, and I can be here only now. Tomorrow, it will be a different day. Today will be gone. Forever. Things will have changed. I will have changed. Even if I returned here, this would happen only a limited number of times, even if this place was in my garden. Things will never be the same as this moment.
I have my health, I can come here with my own legs. One day it will no more be possible. I’ll have only memories of this moment, hurting and comforting at the same time. Then, probably not even those.
I wouldn’t say that I’m able to bear this feeling, because it’s not. It bites. But I handle it, someway.
This overwhelming beauty it’s like being face to face with the truth. A truth that leaves you naked and powerless.
However, I cannot live here. I must return home and live the “real” life. I cannot stay here forever because it’s not sustainable. This place is more real than other places, but there’s no real existence here for me. It’s not compatible with my family and my goals. Luckily, I believe this version and I accept that this place is not real for me. It makes it easier to leave.
But the main way for me to handle this beauty full of horrible truth is simply to be here, for the time that is given to me. To really be here.
I want to be here with my senses and my mind. I want to feel the fresh air and the smell of pines but I also want to know that I’m here in my best years, that it’s a magical moment that can happen only a limited number of times in life, and that I’m here, now, and not in another place. Tomorrow is tomorrow and now is now. I can’t ignore what will come, but I cannot let the future steal my present, because now is the only moment when I live.
I can have goals in life but life is mostly the journey to them. If I didn’t enjoy the journey, I wouldn’t have enjoyed my life. If I wasn’t here, in favor of my imaginary future, it would be like I wouldn’t have been here. Simply, I wouldn’t have lived. Anything would become abstract, as if lived by another person. Any accomplishment would miss the life behind it.
It’s only when I am really here, with the full myself, that I put a milestone in my life. I am here and I’m living the moment to its fullest. It makes sense to be in my shoes. Tomorrow I’ll know that I was here, that I did the best to live my moment. That’s all the persistence that is allowed to mortal life.
If I let time pass, instead of flowing, I would have wasted an opportunity of contemplating this unique beauty, of putting myself in contact with this regenerating place, of storing a memory for the hard days.
If I’m here, I’m living. At least, I’ll have lived.