There are some days when, to feel alive, you need to skydive, run a marathon, swim across the English Channel, climb a mountain. Some days, to feel alive, it is not possible to just wake up, drink coffee, read, think. You must go to Japan, India, Indonesia, by yourself. You must lose yourself in their streets, listen to their foreign language. You must not understand. You must feel small, insignificant, inside a giant temple. You must not know if you're ever going back.
Some days, the clarity of the sun, the smallness of every day stuff do not bring life do not make you feel alive. It is just not enough. Some days, no smile, no word, no color can erase the stain left by the pain, the loss, the separation. No distraction suffices, no project makes sense. There is no effort, on these days, worth making. You take care of the projects, nonetheless. You make an effort anyway. Energies are invested, obligations are fulfilled, tender gestures are performed , strength is drawn from somewhere.
There are days, still, that when facing the impossibility of grandeur, you must accept the void, the pain, and just let time go by. Facing the impossibility of sitting in front of the ocean and contemplating the waves, their different shades and the colors of the sky, of not uttering a word until the sun has set, you must say good morning, you must treat kindly the strangers, you must welcome the smiles, the tender gestures. You must ignore the indiference, you must dismiss the ignorance. Because not all days will be like this, not all nights.