Nature without nature
One week ago, halfway down to the office I realised that I forgot my headphones. I stood thinking, trying to decide if it's worth going back. It wasn't about the inconvenience of being forced to hear the city noise or eavesdrop on conversations in the language I don't understand, or not being able to wrap myself in the soundproof bubble at the office, later. It was all about missing my podcast friends that day. Hosts that join me on my morning commute every day since I can remember, help me to distract from many things, including myself, my own problems and my own thoughts. When I listen to Joe Rogan, Duncan Trussell, Chris Ryan and many others, I am always elsewhere more than 'here'. Which is not good but a comforting thing.
That particular commute that day was unbearable. I had all those random backlogged thoughts to deal with. Each of them able to trigger anxiety with ease. This experience reminded me I need to spend more time exposed to a traditional version of reality. I also need to face own perception rather than feed on mind flows from others. As much as being a fly on the wall of my podcasting friends is good, it creates a void. Prevents from self-enquiry. It becomes more difficult to engage with inputs from own surrounding.
Living in Central Europe comes in a package with grey and dull mornings for the majority of the year. It's just something you need to deal with and it's hard to be inspired and optimistic in such decadent setting. But it is possible. It takes an effort to notice an unique kind of the charm in it. Above all, it has to do with finding inner peace and comfort of what comes from within. Realising that reality can be gritty, cold and windy and that it is fine.
Since that morning I purposely kept my ears and mind unoccupied by all what's not 'here'. More and more getting into the gritty and unpleasant reality of the moment. Even when being completely emerged, I find myself in the middle of that spectrum almost as just an observer. Not participant. On one end of the spectrum, there are runners who with strength and stamina just don't care and stay high with fitness jolt. On the other end, there are drunks and job hating zombies who accept their fate and just do what they must. Dog walkers are somewhere in the middle. They are both alone and within their own special communities. Often meeting the same people and their dogs every morning mid-day and evening. They are both participants and observers. I think having a dog gets you that. You are instantly becoming a member unique tribes.
There are two forested patches of land on my morning commute. They are vibrant and cheerful in other circumstances of the week/day. But they look almost post-apocalyptic in the morning. Walking there almost alone takes me somewhere else. It can feel like a kind of adventure. Walking trough the mud, passing mini zoo, greeting some wild life is just the opposite of what's coming after. I guess I can never really be 'here'. Reality is always based on interpretation. Maybe there is no other way.