Or let me ask you a question
…
There are few moments when I feel like I'm more than a tired creature trying to catch up on everything and fit in moments of real, innocent life.
Those moments when I feel bigger than the money I have to make, the obligations I have to fulfill and the schedules I have to follow in full.
Such moments are always and always moments of change.
No involuntary change. Of those that arise, they come unannounced and force you to take their shape even if for a long time you will try to fit into it.
Not this change. The other one.
The one that is purely personal. A completely private revolution.
This change comes after a silent agreement to the self that says:
END. THIS DOESN'T WORK ANYMORE. IT HAS TO CHANGE.
When such a moment comes I always feel my heart pounding. The pulse throughout my body. I feel like I'm getting as important as I can and I'm holding my head up. I feel like I'm doing a really brave thing.
I feel alive.
It is always these changes that create the important chapters.
They never come the way I imagine them. With an incredible confidence like a Hollywood movie that in one shot you decide and in the next you seem to fulfill it completely and successfully as a melodic piece is heard that shows that time is passing.
No, every great moment, every change has always been highly contested. I suffered. I had absolute dread, which almost hedonistically made me imagine all the possible scenarios of the destruction of my impending decision to change (anything).
It has nothing to do with the illustrated sax story of self-improvement books.
It's something completely internal, like your shell breaking and you hearing its deafening noise that paralyzes you.
A friend who recently, out of the blue, decided to leave his tidy little life and secure little job and claim a life he'd secretly wanted for years, was asked:
QUESTION "How did you know this was the right time for the change?"
He didn't think much of it. He said almost straight up that on an ordinary day, he was making the ordinary way home, in the ordinary motion listening to the ordinary songs and something inside him said ENOUGH.
That's probably how the biggest changes happen.
Right at their moment.
Not before, not after.
Right on their time.
That's probably how the biggest changes happen, on an ordinary day.
Where you decide that ahead you don't know what you will find but you don't turn back.
And you rush.
*Cover photo: Geopoliticus child watching the birth of the new man / Salvador Dali, 1943