The First Night of the Year and The Legend Of a North American Tribe

There is something different about tonight: it’s the night when most people in every angle of the world re-think about their lives, their hopes and they wish upon the brighter star. So I feel one with the universe, one with my brothers and sisters while I type these lines.

I look at the sky and scattered I spot thousands little stars. Their light goes on and off at my sight, like small light bulbs going off in my mind. Memories, dreams, words, ghosts and faces all gather together in this dark room, in the darkest place of my mind. As somebody once said, the darkest place is the only place where we could discover something real.  I love darkness. I find it easier to write at night time as my thoughts, afraid to be caught in day light, take a peek at sunset and one by one all come out tip toe.

Suddenly the giant clock of the world announces loudly the first night of the year and then freezes for a while. I take a sip of that delicious red wine and observe all my pictures framed on the wall: different style, different people and just another vacation. Isn’t it still me?

Perhaps humans have built this giant clock called time not only to keep track of the days and the months, but also to keep note of their dreams, of their achievements afraid that they would lose meaning and fade away in the immensity of space. We all need something to look forward to, that’s what keeps us alive. This is how life operates, this is how change happens. Actually, I’d say how transformation happens. Transformation, I like this word better.

Ring – Ring! The phone interrupts my thoughts.

“I hate to admit this,” a familiar male voice says on the other side of the line. “You were right all along: it’s me that got to change before expecting things to be different (…)”

“Happy New Year to you too,” I reply.

“That’s it, I’ve done it! I’ve booked a ticket Melania. I’m leaving tomorrow.” he says with rather optimism.

“Don’t go,” I was indented to shout, but I chuckled instead.

There’s always a fine line between what it’s right and what you want; what you say and what you think. It’s a real struggle when you think about something that you want, but say otherwise because it’s right. What’s right or wrong in life is very relative, but letting the person that you love to be free is not only a right, it’s sacred.

 “I know you think I’ve probably gone crazy, that I’m not myself recently, though I do need to see you one more time. Are you coming to say goodbye tonight?” He asks.

 I stand still in front of my large window trying to spot the moon, but I could not see it. Mitch Albom in one of his books tells the legend of a North American tribe living in the Artic who believes in reincarnation and thinks that everything on earth has a soul. The author writes that sometimes the moon is so busy with the new souls of the world that it disappears from the sky. That is why we have moonless nights. But in the end the moon always returns in different forms and shape, as do we all.

 “Yes, perhaps you are going a little bit mad,” I smile and nod my head. “Wherever you feel like you’re going, I do hope you feel free…”

Happy 2016 my Fellow Bloggers

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