Top View
Climbing clears my “eyesight”
Who throws a rope from the sky in front of me almost every night?
Come on, dear Self! Again?
— Don’t listen to my nonsense. You know I am dying for my nightly climb! —
Barefoot, fearless, dressed in my simplest outfit.
My Self doesn’t care about clothing, make-up, haircuts, and other
image-making stuff. It sees beyond my appearance.
— It is beyond my appearance, to be exact—
Oh, GodorSelforSoulWhatever! I’m overwhelmed by freedom!
It’s like I drunk a whole bottle of liberelixir.
I even sense it in my sweat now as I’m climbing.
I look down. My house is a miniature now.
My whole neighborhood is just a bunch of small boxes.
All these happiness-es and sadness-es and arguments and friendships
are being seen as huge when I’m down there.
It’s because I’m among them then.
And when you’re in the situation, you don’t easily see clearly.
But, if you watch it from above, nothing is magnified or minimized,
or confused. It is as it is.
And it becomes manageable.
