I’ve never been the type to be afraid of risking loss because I’ve followed my gut as much as I could. I’ve reached deep into myself to draw beauty from the impermanence of it all, and discovered sadness is many levels above beauty. So here I am sleepless on the midnight train recalling the people in my past. Their beautiful imperfection forever valued.
As condensation builds, and drips on the window on this misty night, I’m reminded of the love the divine must have for me. To place me here so temporarily. Breathing in the stories and filling myself with pictures. But I love them and I love this. The traveler’s heart. Deep, caring, inspired, inspiring. Wanting nothing more than the impression of a holy moment with a beautiful woman, a child, a lepor, a stray.
We are not runners. We are addicts obessesed with newness. Ravaged by stagnation. Broken only by an artless life. It is here on this midnight train that my heart lives. Forever moving into visions of magical connections. Drugs do not compare to the highs of passing through. We make no commitments to the mundane. There are plenty made to play that game.
I don’t know where this midnight train is headed, but wherever it is, there I will be, happily. For that I am grateful. For that I am.
-This is Life in the Leap