I felt lone for a second that could have lasted me years

            The air on that night was light, it smoothly entered my nostrils to fill my lungs with the cleanness of nature; this beautiful element, that hides from the human eyes in its invisibility but, nonetheless, is essential, is crucial to the filling and refiling of life throughout the vast planet we inhabit. Its purity was so powerful, it made one acknowledge the breathing, the inherent inhaling and exhaling act that shall cease only once life itself ceases. It is inevitable though, that every living soul is reminded of the cycle of breathing, turning its wheels with the cycle of life. The endless stars of the dark blue sky, that night, were shining to eyes that one day shall be long gone, emitting a light strong as the one in my eyes which, can only be obfuscated for its ephemerality. When this light fades, I shall no longer feel the clean air, I will be the air and the stars myself – I will be everything in the sky of nothingness. 

            It was autumn time back home; it has been few weeks since I’ve travelled to the south of America to contemplate some free time with my family during my days off and, to contemplate as well the beautiful nature of Brazil. A nature that surrounded me as I grew old, and a family that I missed more than any imaginable thing in this universe. Since I stepped in the plane to head towards the south portion of our planet, noticing its small crowd, I knew peace was walking my way, it was time to take a break – it was time for some peace of mind. Thus, finally was I reunited with my parents and my aunt, that came visit us; that weekend we have driven up to the farm, among the mountains of the countryside to find mutual peace.

            Starring at the nature, as the sky fell into a sea of darkness, I felt lone for a second that could have lasted me years; I felt lone as I was when I found myself in the airplane that took me there – I felt lone and free. The entire row of the plane seats by my side was empty, no one was reachable through gaze and, probably no one acknowledged my presence. Thus, it was only the stars that could watch me from my plane window. They saw me closing my eyes, not to sleep, but to meditate over the feeling of being taken away; flying above oceans with my life completely in the hands of whoever was in charge of that airplane – just like when on the road, the bumps and turns of the vehicle are irrelevant to me, my life is not my responsibility as long as the journey lasts, and how lovely it is to be set free from it. What if, I thought, what if it all ends now and I simply cease existing to this world, or will it perhaps, be the world that shall cease existing to me? The world and myself, two bodies that seemed, at the same time, so relevant and, so irrelevant. Two coexisting energies. As we learned in physic, no energy is ever created and neither does it ever ceases existing, it can only transform itself in…something beyond our reach, which no one will ever really and truly be able to comprehend. As long as the flight lasted, I did not close the window, I wanted to see the magic rays of sunlight slowly and inevitably invade the cold roundness of the atmosphere that surrounds us. I wanted to see the stars drown in their own light as they watched me submerge myself in dreams.

            I opened my eyes to let go this memory, and saw the mountains that now surrounded us. It was no coincidence, neither luck, that the air was so fresh at night. It is what one can only expect when isolated in the countryside, free to run over the open field. The farm, isn’t my parents’ official home, they live in the city and they like to do so; it is, however, our weekend refuge. Actually, there is no such thing as weekend in such lieu. Time doesn’t seem to exist, and if it does, it is intrinsically relative. There is no rush, there is no pace. We coexist in an eternal present; and, even though long months have passed since that night, part of me stayed there – part of me inhabit that place like many others that still beat in my heart.

            From the highest viewing spot of the field, we could see the rounded lake in the middle of the farm, surrounded by a beautiful grass, followed by the horses stable, the red bricked house we would sleep on that night, and the immense trees that stood behind the house and the stable; we could hear the leaves as the wind touched them and threw one against each other. The dogs didn’t dare adventuring themselves through the dark night, they stayed home awaiting our return.

            “Did you bring the wine?” mom inquired, her glass was already empty.

            “Yes mom, here.” there was still half left on the bottle.

            I poured her some, to my dad, and his sister as well to finish the second bottle which I brought for our walk through the farm.

            “I can’t believe you already drank it all” dad said, only for the pleasure of reading my reaction to his sarcastic commentary. We both have this endless youth of spirit that never allows us to stop playing with the seriousness of adults.

            Mom was filling her lungs and letting an “ahhh” come out on her exhalation. She fell into deep reflection when observing the stars, and I saw myself on her, like no one else, I can see what she sees, we understand life in the same way. We mutually share a love genuine in nature as it can be. Whatever happens, the world will always be in peace when I hold her hand. She is, in fact, my eternal peace; even though our flesh is so ephemeral as the seasons, that constantly come and go, our love crosses all cycles of nature – it is infinite as the star’s light.

           Feeling our skin touched by the nocturnal breeze, we fell silent for a while and, we all must have felt lone. The Moon introduced itself in its full mysterious shape, with such a powerful reflection of light that it almost seemed as if the Moon itself had an interior light, capable of turning the endless stars into an ordinary background for its supremacy.

            Its sight, instantly brought me the remembrance of a night in Rio de Janeiro, the destination I found myself before coming home. It was my first stop in Brazil, and this same yellowed Moon, inhabited my memory so lively since, just two days earlier it caught myself disarmed by love, weary from the feeling of lust and from the temptations of the night. I was walking by the beach with an old friend of mine, it was around midnight, and the Moon watched me quietly, behind the mountain from which it raised, so quietly that even the light waves of the ocean prevented me from hearing it. The breeze wasn’t warm as few hours before when the Sun let rain its heat over the city, the breeze made my skin feel salty – and how much happiness the nostalgia of childhood brought me on that moment.

            “You are very ambitious.” my friend said, breaking the silence that circled between us.

            “Why do you say so?” ambitious… I’m not such kind of human, I thought. Such word transmitted negative feelings; all I wanted, was to be grateful, not ambitious. If I ever ran too far, it would be for love as there shall be only one life to be lived and, very likely, one chance to ever cross the line. My energy could not become that, there is no room in the stars for ambition, there is no time, neither space for it.

            “Because you want a lot for a young woman.”

            I could feel my heart beats; I was hoping my friend wouldn’t hear it too, I feared it would be the revelation, one would then read it completely and understand me completely. In the way such words came out of those lips, on a momentary lapse of reason, I heard what wasn’t said – which was much more relevant than the spoken words in our relation. That ambition for, not demanding but, wanting a lot, was nothing but the correlation of love and lust. Those eyes saw it, captured it so easily. I thought I had hidden it well, I thought it would be my private secret joy. And why to lie at this point, yes, it is all I am. Love and lust in an imperfection of balance; a balance however, that never finds extreme unevenness. A balance that carries its equilibrium through life, as it can – as it learns and, slowly gains weight. We sink in life at each second that leads to our future; we sink with the weight of gravity that time ponders onto us, weary travelers, insatiable ephemeral beings. What shall one aspire to, with the certainty that everything is uncertain, as the future itself – a diffused cloud that exists in such way and, diffused it shall ever be. After all, one can only acknowledge the personal limit when one can no longer stand heaviness, emotionally. 

            That conversation was making the air surrounding us dense, it was too beautiful although, too much. To break the silence and the stillness once again, I took my shoes off to walk on the sand and to feel my feet kissed by the water that bravely held the warmth the day had given it. My friend, hesitant, followed me, imitating my actions. We walked in silence until, finally, we notice the Moon, huge and yellow like never before, being disguised by the roundness of the mountains, from which it risen to reach the high sky. It has been watching us, and I felt so exposed for facing all at once two companies that read my silence so well. Nevertheless, I felt in peace that night in Rio.

           “What else is there to life?” the voice of mother interrupted my reflection. I thus, tried to detached myself from all recent memories that spun in my thoughts and took my mind away from the farm, and from my precious company.

            “Not much” responded my aunt.

            “Not much” I repeated. And not much, indeed.

            Because of an insatiable lust to feel the nature once again at each step, I took my shoes off to feel the grass along the farm. Not as wild as stepping in wild forest grounds, neither unstable as the sand itself, the grass intoxicated my body with peace. Seeing me do so, my mom and my aunt felt inspired to do the same, my dad however, decided he was more comfortable on his shoes. Barefoot we walked, feeling the humidity of the night float over the green fields of the mountains, translated into the wetness of the grass. Barefoot, we silently moved, avoiding taking our feet from the ground not to lose the connection and, all the while tasting the last drops of the red cabernet we had left. Under the Moon, barefoot we felt a contaminating happiness that came from the humblest form of simplicity. Once finding ourselves in the open field, we naturally developed the power of contemplation. I have gone so far and, finally now I realized how great it was to be able to go back to the starting point, where the most valuable virtues rest, where love shall never cease existing. Coming back to it, shall be a great victory to conquer throughout life, it will be an honor to find the starting point over and over again.

            “Where is the North Star, dad?” I walked back to find him who, stayed behind watching the starts, waiting for a shooting star to pass by.

            “It’s that one” he pointed “one of the brightest.”

            None came to fulfill our wish at that moment, however, later on we did see a shooting star, once we were all back together, once the wine was over and we were ready for another rising Sun to come. I noticed the women quietly setting intentions for their wishes, some old legend says one should make a wish when one is gifted with the sight of a shooting star. I think my dad, like myself, was too skeptical to throw wishes at stars – I might be wrong, as I didn’t ask him, however, I doubt he did so. In my defense, I can only justify that life was good – life is good, and nothing needs instant change as, things change progressively throughout life. My balance can only handle so much after all. This weariness of a long gone traveler, of giving oneself too much, and too intensely to life and lust, has rendered me old, and I felt I’ve gotten so much older in the past months; it was time to recover my resilience, if I ever had any.  I thus wonder if, those shooting stars – that are really comets – passing so fast by our beautiful planet, I wonder if, they also make wishes when they are gifted with the sight of us.

            Perhaps, because of the moving skies or, for our evolving perception, every night, the shining bodies beyond our physical and psychological reach, present themselves differently. Nevertheless, I feel home when gazing at them. I feel home because, home is where my heart beats. Whenever the night brings me its splendor, I send it all of my love, as I know it is also looking over all my precious starting points of life – and everyone I love can see the stars as I do, regardless of the distance. So eternal they are, it almost seems unfair with us, to be doomed to fade away, to burn out, to explode – and nevertheless, to be ephemeral. The more I seek for answers, the more questions I face; there seem to be no end to love as there is to life, after all.

           Can you see, do you see? Do you feel the connection – how close are you? Are you looking close enough to the Moon, lone like a wolf through the night, are you close enough to the Moon, are you close enough to me? What is distance, if not something in between the separation of bodies and souls, as our connection – moving through love and lust. Why then, my love, am I looking at the stars and not at the eternal bright of your eyes; I secretly ask them.

A.