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“This year, I’m really looking forward to go to the sea. I’ve been working for half a decade but it was more than ten years ago when I last visited a beach and felt the sand, the sun, the sting, and the itch on my eyes as I tried to take a peek of the murky view underneath the water.
There is something intimidating about the sea; its immensity makes me tremble on how small I compare and it makes me imagine sinking, drowning, and running out of breath as this beautiful work of nature tries to embrace and claim me as its own.
But this, too, is the calmness of the sea; it makes you feel how tiny you and your problems are. It silently tells you that you do not matter – that you are a speck of dust that could be washed off easily, and that the same goes for all of your troubles that wouldn’t even leave a mark on the ever-replenishing shore.
I don’t know if this is masochistic but I find this undermining of the human relevance to be strangely uplifting. Because if this irrelevance would be applicable, it would just mean that we don’t need to overthink anymore because our human problems do not matter to the world, hence, we should just enjoy and live the happy moment.”
This is an old entry from my prattle blog to remind myself that I still have an unfinished business with Earth and its beauty. (Yes, even if it’s way past summer and even if a quake is coming which I am dead scared of.)
I remember that my husband told me how fear is a life-killer; how fear cripples a person and makes him hesitant to pursue what he wants because of a small chance of an unpleasant outcome. “But what if it doesn’t happen?” he asked. And then I understood the entire point which I had been refusing to listen to even if it was just there in the back of my mind.
“What do we say to the god of death?
– Not today.”