My Being Here

This wonderful place forces me to handle impermanence.

That’s one of my loved places. I cannot come here often. Actually, I had the occasion of coming here only a few times in my life. It’s possible that this is the last.

I love this place because is pretty lonely but still welcoming. It’s an elevated location, still surrounded by magnificent mountains. It’s in the heart of Alps, Italy.

Looking back are high mountains, with a steep gully that leads to gorgeous and isolated places.

There is a small stream, flowing fast, with a pleasant sound that fills the area, and a lot of boulders that invite you to stay. And I stay. I have my favorite boulder, but this time I don’t find it.

Staying here is like being at home, for me, even if I rarely come here. I feel like life has nothing better to offer. I can sit and let my soul expand, or get smaller, or rest. Or disappear. I can leave all go. It’s me, directly in contact with nature.

Still, our mind is rarely peaceful. I bring here some thoughts too. But it’s a comfortable place where to think.

Curiously, my first impression in this kind of locations is impermanence. Mountains will be there for a long time, but I will not. One day, mountains too will not be there. My preferred boulder seems not to be there already.

It’s not simply knowing that everything has an end. It’s the feeling that in any case this is the last time I am here. This moment is unique and I can be here only now. Tomorrow, it will be a different day. Today will be gone. Forever. Things will have changed. I will have changed. Even if I will return here, this will happen only a limited number of times, even if this place was in my garden. Things will never be the same as this moment.

I have my health, I can come here with my own legs. One day it will no more be possible. I’ll have only memories of this moment. Then, maybe not even those.

How can I bear this feeling?

It’s not exactly that I bear it. It hurts. There’s a lot of beauty, here, but it’s like being face to face with the truth. A truth that leaves you naked and powerless.

However, I cannot live here. I have to return home and live the “real” life. Staying here is wonderful but I cannot stay here forever because is not sustainable. This place is more real than other places, but there is no real existence here for me. It’s not compatible with my family and my goals. Luckily, I believe this version and I accept that this place is not real. It’s easier to leave it.

But the real way for me to handle this beauty full of horrible truth is simply to be here. To really be here.

I want to be here with my senses and my mind. I want to feel the fresh air and the smell of pines but I also want to know that I’m here in my best years, that it’s a magical moment that can happen only a limited number of times in life, that I’m here now and not in another place. That tomorrow is tomorrow and now is now. I can’t ignore what will come, but the future cannot steal my present, else I’m simply not living.

I can have goals in life but life is often the journey to them. If I don’t enjoy the journey, I won’t have enjoyed my life. If I’m not here, but I’m in the imaginary future, it will be like I won’t have been here.

It’s only when I am really here, with the full myself, that I put a milestone in my life. I am here and I’m living the moment to its fullest. Tomorrow I’ll know that I was here, that I did the best to live my moment. No more persistence is allowed to mortal life.

Being really present here is the best thing I can do now. If I simply let time pass, I would have wasted an opportunity of contemplating this beauty, of putting myself in contact with this regenerating place, of storing a memory for the hard days.

If I’m here, I’m living. I’ll have lived.

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