Photo credit to Berit Burmann, Estonia, beginning of September.
The road lets you stop for a while. The memories come.
How good Amsterdam was. How good this trip has been so far.
How I want to have the means to make my life full of memories like these. To revisit friends I hold so close to the heart. Because life makes more sense like that. When people you hold dear are now reflected in parts of you, the way you say stuff, the way you think. I want to have a life like this, experiencing it with friends, have my moments alone, live more.
Looking at photos always brings me the same nostalgic shitty feeling. Like I want that back. Like I need that exact moment and location again. I don’t.
Most likely I need the people, and every time I see their photos I feel like hugging them really hard. That is the only thing.
You will see new things if you continue along the road. And they will be different. Better or worse, you should see that on the horizon. The miles ahead will grow in you, the wind will tear apart everything the road gives you. You shall not carry more than you want to.
The art of letting go begins here. When you know that the change will bring more, not immediately but it will eventually, and the more it gives the more it takes.
That is how life goes.
And if it gives you the chance to repeat moments, be grateful. Just don’t expect it.
Let the road guide you, always forward.
In my long stay here in the quiet seaside of Olympos in Turkey the dirt road teaches and I learn. With the resting I take my time to learn, in a deeper level. Like all things, it becomes a part of me. And I leave feathers behind, because they height on the body.
Only your soul should be heavy, and it shall only be fed on what you’ve became. Not on photos, souvenirs, memories.
Leave that for the comfort of the nest, here the feathers gather on the floor, the road is familiar and the people fly with you across small routes. The moments we call home, wherever we are.