Under New Stones

Photo by Brea GuettnerIf you ever wonder what the difference is in forgetting how something feels when you have nothing, and forgetting how something feels when you have it all I give you this..

Imagine you are a rock. A stone. And as you are this rock, place yourself as far away from everything familiar that you can. It doesn’t matter how many other rocks are around you, just take it to a place that is still, quiet and dry. Now remain there, unmoving without momentum for as long as you can. You would lay there, the sun eventually bleaching you, the wind and dust eventually smoothing your edges until you would finally be buried and blend in to the ground and be covered with the earth.

Now, imagine you are the same rock. In the same place, in the same surroundings doing the same thing but lets say a drop of moisture is falling from the sky now. This drop, a large drop..is making its way down to earth. Falling fast and evaporating little by little as it gets closer to its destination. Its destination, after a timely flight, would ultimately be you. Well, you as the rock. Not the other rocks around you, but you and only you. Your surface would be the only one to get quenched by this bit of water.

Unlike all the stones around you, you get to feel something different. Momentarily and brief like all great things, feelings often lift just as the droplets of water dissipate across your surface. Sometimes you forget how it felt, sometimes you forget the simplicity in something new and different – even as small as the change in temperature across your skin, this could be insignificant to some but also be the world for another.

Ok, lets take another stone. But this one lets throw very far away in the middle of the ocean. I want to plummet this rock as far under as I can. Deep and dark below the tide where the light cannot breach. Its cold, but familiar here. It was a long drift down, but a soft landing was inevitable and welcomed along the rough of the sea bed. This rock is surrounded not only by other stones, but also encompassed by water. Lots of water. All day, all night he is submerged in liquid never to be reminded of how it was like to not feel the moisture of the sea.

In this case, figuratively of course – the water represents connections, intimacy and some of the better things in life that come across our path. Some we notice, some we don’t, some we spend our whole existence waiting for as well as some are constantly being submerged around it. The pinnacle of the three, I believe would have to be the one receiving the drop. This to me by far, is the awakening that we all push forward in life to achieve. Once you breach that point along side a strong consciousness and a driving will, it’s at this time that you have to constantly remind yourself how it was to feel that one refreshing touch. The one feeling that we tend to all forget, that one new sensation that we drug ourselves away from, that ultimately leads to the utter mundane of living life as “just another drone”.

These things bother me. As to a point that I lose sleep and dream over. It is just “water and rocks”, it is just “another holiday”, it is just another “valentines day that we no longer celebrate any more”…

When did that rain hit you? When did you submerge yourself in the sea and forget what it was like to sit and be beaten down by the sun? Did you really trade in your ability to skip across the top of the water, and technically feel it all at once? To feel the sun, the drops, and the comfort of drowning under the glassy surface of what intimacy has to offer?

I never gave up. I never forgot. I never have lost the sensation of what it was like to feel one drop across my lips. People delude themselves everyday with that walk, and that talk and that “oh it’s just how life is”.

It’s that way because you choose to make life that way. You chose to forget and sit on the bottom of the sea. That just can never float in my story. Call me crazy, call me obtuse, or call me an idealist all you want but forgetting how that feels is like proposing delusions to me.

Below any body of water, on any stranded plateau, or along any sea of bedrock – I will always be the one here remembering how it felt, standing under the rain.
Photo by Brea Guettner

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