i go wherever you go

Do you ever feel like saying 'I go wherever you go'? I wonder if that's really a good thing? To feel so committed, one can abandon all his plans to pursue a feeling. But then, isn't that the kind of feeling we search for our whole life?

Sometimes, people seem to think of love statements as a bit cliche. In fact, they are. I start to believe our whole life is made of repeating banalities. Until we come across certain circumstances, we tend to think some things do not concern us. By the end of the day, they do. We are all concerned when it comes to sacrifices, decisions and doubts. We cannot escape the current of life. We cannot escape loving and moments where someone else becomes the light of our universe.


These are the things that we learn to admit with the passing of time. Someone's love saves us from solitude and I believe we all need interactions. No matter how much loneliness one can bear and how much one values own freedom, there is a point where some encounters are just necessary to keep going. What I'd call a 'love encounter' reaches the majority of us and allows to understand the essence of life - when someone else fills the space in your heart and mind.

Of course that can lead to  frustration. It is key to find balance between self-fulfillment and sacrifice. Still, an unquestionable beauty lays in the fact, we are ready to become so concentrated on another human being. This scheme - love bigger than anything else - has always existed and it seems to bring harmony to the world. It feels good to be part of this old, everlasting circle.

on people

One of my spare times pleasures is browsing. For interviews and profiles, studio visits and opinions pieces. The market of indie press is flourishing, so one’s access to specific, themed information is even greater. I realise how many incredible people do exist.

Our humble lives will pass unnoticed and I’m not talking about people changing the course of history. I’m thinking of ordinary human beings, following their gut and passion, enchanted by simple, daily existence, appreciating life for mere opportunity to execute their own, small ventures. Once I thought: ‘it must be miserable without considerable achievements and awe’. I’ve completely reviewed my thinking, as I began to discern the beauty of common things. The freedom of freelancing, joy of writing, excitement when confronted with new projects. Grocery’s shopping and meeting my friends on Friday evenings, smoking cigarettes in the gardens of bistros and sharing carafes of wine.

I feel that happiness everyone’s pursuing lays in observation. Because it’s happening and it’s right next to us, but we refuse to see it. There are times our lives get complicated, we face problems difficult to solve, we lose things we love. Still, the permanence of true joys can be achieved via other people and not necessarily those closest to us.

When I read about a New York couple running their own design studio, while taking a stroll with their dog during lunch break, I lit. Similarly, as I get a chance to watch a short doc on an obscure architect explaining the concept behind his self-designed house somewhere in the middle of San Francisco, I’m amazed, because he’s living a good life filled with honesty and love for his profession, he was lucky enough to apply to his own surroundings. These people I find most inspiring and amidst my fear of ending up disappointed with myself, I realise, my own aspirations are quite simple. Isn’t it feasible to find my drive and follow it? Is there any indicator of success when your everyday living is motivated by exploration rather than material goals?

Although it’s probably not a general rule, I feel that the best comes to those who do not impatiently await it. Those who act and do and seek, until they find it, because their love of being on the road is way much greater than love of the final effect.

As I’m still trying to navigate through life, to pursue one’s path is probably easier than tracing it. I’m still not sure if my choices are right, but the quest for oneself appears as a great adventure when you come across examples of people, who took their time to find their way. And thoroughly enjoyed it.

i shall never regret all the thoughts that went through my head

The amount of time spent on thinking Is unmeasurable. It’s an accumulation of weeks, months or even years we spend on ruminating different aspects of life. I wonder: where is it all leading? Any conclusion I’m going to reach was probably already realised by the world, so shall I rather just enjoy things and avoid overthinking?

The thing is that without discovering all universal truths by yourself, one’s life shall never be complete. I need to worry about the possibility that 10 years from now on, I might be my greatest disappointment or won’t yet see the Caribbean. I need to consider the injustice that I’ll never be able to live all those potential lives I’ve always wanted to experience – from being a surfer girl in Byron Bay to a lonesome writer in an apartment in Le Marais. There are so many things I find unfair and terrifying, so many regrets I have though my life is just starting. I’m a bubble of frustration powered by long nights of pondering.

One reason why I know it’s a blessing in disguise is a hope, at the bottom of my heart, the whole process will let me arrive at a point when I fully embrace things that were given exclusively to me.  My features, dreams and weaknesses. Long legs and messy hair. Impatience and ambition. I won’t reject the idea I deserve the best, because I will know I am not ideal, but I’m great. No, it’s not vanity that will take over me, rather, self-understanding. No matter where life takes us, it takes us as we are. No need to wonder – what am I doing here?

I am at the very beginning on my road to acceptance and self-love. Sometimes I even scold myself for being too preoccupied with my personality, as I might have exceeded all the limits of egoism.  But in then, we need to leave with ourselves first after we try to step into realities of those around. Being at ease in your own skin is a prerequisite to truly bring out your own potential and form happy relationships. It’s a work in progress and it’s constructive. No deadlines required. Just consistency and thinking that’ll lead to right conclusions.

midnight conversations

 

Falling asleep is my time of reckoning. In all its forms and facets. I often start with projections. Ideas of the future and things I wish for. These are not grand scenarios, but rather  small things I hope to do. Like listening to my favourite music album the next day or going to a great exhibitions. It involves other people too. I dream of gestures and words I hope to come across.

At times, I recall certain moments. It's like building a collection of small, barely significant memories, still I assemble things I want to re-imagine. How do they look from all the angles? How did I feel about them then and how I see them now.

On some occasions, I simply look back. At old regrets and things I wish had happened. The inevitable sorrows lurk in the dark, but as I get older, I'm getting better at repelling the nonsense.

The end of the day is symbolic, so I dare to make bigger decisions. From tomorrow on, I will eat healthier. When I wake up, I will always remember to do my French first. But as our midnight resoultions keep failing, I think this is why the whole ritual repeats itself 365 a year. It's a row of chances and promises taken over and over again. It's a beautiful frame for all our imperfections.

on reaching beautiful ends

Definitions of fulfillment may vary. We may think of career, family, relationships or any other ambitions that at some point seem complete. This is exactly when living in the current moment counts.

Sometimes, the most difficult thing is to grasp the fullness. It’s not that you're letting your dreams go, it’s not that you’re getting easily satisfied. It’s about reaching a certain end, where one can confess - I made it and I'm enjoying it. Permanent dissatisfaction can never lead  to higher ends. The most beautiful versions of ourselves can only occur if we let the happen. They're always there waiting.

I do well know that perfection can be temporary. Life changes and imposes different circumstances, turbulence can be hurtful. Still, once we’ve recognised the state we’d call an ideal, once we cherished it, we will always find a dose of motivation to find it again.

Beautiful ends always lead to beautiful beginnings.

paris makes it beautiful to be a common person

I often wonder what criteria we use when choosing a place to stay. Sometimes, we never leave our hometowns because all we ever wanted from life is already there. Sometimes, we keep endlessly searching for a better spot on the map. It takes a while to define.

Personally, I want to be in a place where it feels exceptionally beautiful to be an ordinary human being. One with work, friends, a small apartment and some savings for small luxuries. Not too much of an obligation to always come to expectations, to ceaselessly represent someone better, something different. Paris made me such a promise.

I sensed excitement for simple pleasures  the city elevated  to completely new heights, whenever I sat in a cafe, a bistro or strolled its streets. It spurred an air of mystery around my actions and decisions. Feeling like I can suddenly change my mind, shed a tear, be emotional. It justified all the irrationality, the bizarre, praised the unexpected. A city of constant change dictated by your heart.

I forgot all high ambitions, worries, doubts. Paris made me live in the current moment, as it exuded beauty everywhere you turn - from the landscapes to the way people perform their everyday duties. It is a city that makes you observe, opens up your eyes for things around. No matter the level of empathy you can reach, Paris is a place of curiosity.

Eventually, I think about the passing time. I always feel it’s not worth to decide upon one place in life, as entering new cities is so formative. You can discover things about yourself you’d never discover otherwise. Suddenly, I realise I am quite wrong. As much as we are nomads, even in the middle of a long way, we always seek a shelter to spend a safe night.

Life seems like that and Paris was my shelter.

emotion is the best teacher

The feelings once tasted stay there for life.

The complexity of reality can occur in many aspects. The landscapes you see, the people you meet, the food you taste. It has so many layers, we want to remember them all, yet it's so easy forget, as the incentives multiply.

The moment you experience love, it’s hard to live without it. When you understand longing, you find it beautiful to have things to miss. All times epic will endlessly remind you of the ultimate joy one can feel and the complementing excitement. The emotion has capability to haunt us, wake us in the middle of the night, make us cross the boundaries. It is a power driving our lives and as much as I know I will only get to know its small particle, I find an emotion the most comprehensive mean to explore it. Who’s a better guide than a heart, who’s more true to you than your intuition?

One of the most beautiful things about emotions is that they come in doses. Better times after hard times. Regret after love. Solitude after company. Emotions, in all their chaos and disarray, reflect the ultimate balance of life and the inevitability of its stages.

Sometimes I wonder, how much I can rely on the language of heart. It’s full of flaws and grammatical errors,  it can make no sense at all. Yet, when I realise it’s probably the most genuine way to learn life, it’s the only language I want to read.

on adulthood

A lot of things have been said and written on stepping into an adult life. Marked by turning 18, graduating or becoming financially independent, it appears as a sudden disillusion that life cannot be everything that we want. A certain switch inside our head that is forced to get realistic and make specific plans. A realisation that what our parents have been repeating all these years might be actually right. A huge compromise to swallow.

Our generation seems scared of that moment so badly, it might be worth trying to redefine it - make it feel approachable, more like a venture, rather than a one-way life shift, a river of no return. Starting with a flattering thought, one can view it as an act of courage. A moment where we pull ourselves together with an effort, yet not to meet another long list of expectations, rather, to eventually recognise own dreams. Adulthood is about making those decisions we feel capable of making, as we pass a certain level of life experience that allows to be bolder. It is also a gate to greater freedom. Freedom of ideas we can stand for and support. A chance to talk about the world with the words we were always longing to use, they just start coming our way. A liberty to consciously admit we have no opinion on certain things, because adulthood is about being smart enough to realise how little do we know.

A final end to procrastination and doubt, a jump into self-satisfaction and ease, as we take the life into our hands. No matter success or the failure, those two terms are on the opposite ends and we will always waver in between. But how much better to sway in the wind spurred by our own actions instead of being constantly dependent on the external, feeling deep remorse we never took the challenge ? At the end of that tunnel, there will always be regret.

Adulthood as balance of things silly and serious, when we can justify moments of weakness by regular effort the adult life requires. We do not need to loose our youthful spirit or stop dreaming, we can just find a midpoint to make our life as constructive, as much as it will be adventurous.

Finally, adulthood means to find home. Metaphorically, because home might be a specific place on the map or the whole world for those endlessly wandering. It is a moment when we come to realise we know ourselves good enough to decide where we will feel and live well. We are ready to define our life requirements - let it be having a fair trade coffee shop around the corner of your apartment or a bunch of quiet parks to stroll in the city you settle in. It's a time when one can focus on bigger ideas, as irrational fears are pushed aside. It's swimming into the deep waters to see where they can take us. We should believe they carry us to the land where we discover our own greatness.

signs exist and they are wisdom

I often wonder over the existence of signs. This superstitious quality of mind led me to extremes. I try to read the meaning of every single thing and occurence.

Life is filled with happenings and small coincidences, that always carry a certain dose of symbolism. I think life gains just another beautiful layer if we believe that  wisdom and experience will never be literally dictated, rather, quietly whispered with a language that spreads smoothly over the surface of our life. It's a choice to take notice of them, to interpret them, as long as they do not affect our sanity, they are one of the greatest aspects of the ordinary.

The incentives might be many and this is an individual sensitivity that allows to realise the signs have been adressed to you. Sometimes we meet people who'll never play a substantial role in our life, yet they say things that resound within us profoundly. Sometimes we go to places that seem awkwardly familiar as if painted in our heads long before. Sometimes we just stumble in the street to remind ourselves we ought to be careful about living.

These are the empowering signs, that prove our supremacy over fate. Some things are destined, but so many depend on us. What we want to see, we're capable of seeing. What we want to do, we can put in action. The question is always - how much are we willing to admit? To admit is always a gesture of courage. Signs exist and as we learn to perceive them as wisdom, we escape naivety. We truly live as we take steps towards the better versions of our humble selves.

presence in non-presence

I never felt so absent in my presence. The feeling that reveals a world of opportunities - you can act, but you don’t have to - a great temptation. You are here, you observe, you know your opinion. You just restrain from making a gesture.

These days when your mind can blow up, like an atomic bomb, swelling from thoughts and sensations. Missing the outlet to reach the outside world, they are condensed inside you, as you accumulate the internal and the external, your patience reaches the limits, but the idea of absence  eases the struggle.

The reasons for this condition can be many, but they step down into the background, as you cherish the skill of steering your own indifference and let it be superior to all the instincts, impulses. This is the type of control that wont’t last long, but once it comes, you accommodate it and try to make it stay. Being beyond certain emotions is not a victory, rather, an expriment, that once finished, allows you to appreciate the full spectre of feelings life can bring. And it will. 

on flawless disillusions and the hearts affected

Accepting the love you do not deserve is hurting yourself without no one else to blame but you. How far can you go with the feeling that makes you loose all the esteem towards yourself? It’s not easy to rationalise those matters, discipline and the impulse of your own heart were never meant to go hand in hand.

Isn’t it simply beautiful - to feel the sadness that is paving the way for something better. Sticking to things we imagined as flawless is an ultimate security, we might never dare to test all levels of perfection. Understanding that whenever one goes chasing feelings that might be the fullest, he has to take risks as an intrinsic part of the venture.

I often wonder why we try to idealise the people we care about. Is it that we are trying to make them fit into the impeccable visualisation we conceived? Can we be satisfied by living in a reality that’s blurred so we can repel the actual state of things? Being honest in your life starts with the question: am I honest with myself? Honesty is also facing the disillusion one tries to keep in front of one’s face like a mirror that is so uncomfortable to hold and will eventually break. It always takes time.

Sometimes you just see people and want them so badly to give you what you hope for. This is when you justify them, sweep their flaws, think of shinings of happiness and try to give them the ultimate meaning. In fact, in between one’s laugh and the touch of hand, there is an ocean of things and matters unsolved, floating, you want to be oblivious of, as they unveil the non-glamourised truth.

I think that at times, the power of the dream is really unmeasurable. It carries us to places where the carefully selected elements of reality seem to make sense. We start reading signs, change our beliefs, raise our hopes. There is no better way to learn than to break the dream in your very own hand and let it disperse. Its dust seems tragic at first, but soon one can realise that to believe in things happening for a reason is not a symptom of naivety. It is the most beautiful way to let your dreams crystalise again. 

a letter to myself

 Hi,

I’m writing this letter, a digital one, a non-tangible one, a couple of phrases. A kind of letter you have no choice, but to read, because you’re the one writing it. It’s definite and heard, as your eyes sift through the text full of words that came out of you. Addressed to you.

This is a therapeutical exercise. This is a kind gesture. I hope it makes you lighter.

Stop limiting yourself. There are enough limitations life continuously imposes on us for you to add more.

Demand from yourself, but let yourself go too. Life is all about balance.

Trust yourself and your instincts. Nothing should be dictated by fears.

Don’t create pressure that doesn’t really exist.

Always show the honest feeling.

Never be swamped by ambition and dreams.

Be vulnerable and let other people take care of you sometimes.

Differentiate beween the trivial and the important.

Remember nothing is the end of the world really.

Stop thinking about being, becoming someone. Be the way you are.

Best,

M

on documentation

The world we see everyday is a collection of images, subjective and personal, filtrated through a mood, a state of mind, a character. Objectivity is not to be concerned about, because eventually, it disables emotion to have its say on the world we’re living in. This is why documentation is so important.

As soon as certain thought is expressed, written, transformed into an artwork, we can realise its power. It’s not about who is saying, it’s about how he’s saying it. A documentation of quality is one that offers an inspiration, an incentive. It’s an answer to a question - what else of this reality can we understand thanks to perceptive minds of others? There is a hidden potential in all of us to complete this task and bring its results out. We are an ensemble of individuals, a variety invited to take up all forms of creative activity to share something we find essential in the closest or more remote surrounding. We can choose our destinations, we can choose the medium. While we should evade acting opinionated and keep a healthy dose of self-criticism, we should always find courage to create a smal record of our observations. Out of pure generosity, give it to others and maybe one day, our documentation will grow into something more substantial. In the end, isn’t this world all about floating ideas?

on silence

Sometimes I realize the blessing that comes with silence. It is a choice, but not an ultimate one. I feel people always prefer to speak. But speech is tiring and abundant, missing the point, it is just a medium to reassure oneself - I am eloquent, I have opinions.

The people I really enjoy listening to remain quiet and need to be confronted with a direct question. Is it that they treasure their view so much, is it because of fear? I believe what they have to say derivesfrom observation, acuteness, intelligence. Who dares to speak before making an attempt to see a full, wide spectre?

I learn how to catch those moments, when I know my opinion is not exactly the most comprehensive one and I’d rather refrain from talking. At first I think - how little do I know, how little do I understand. Then I translate my pessimism into a more optimistic conclusion - I am soaking things in, I am learning. I notice it builds up an aura of respect around you - it is a silent admission of own weakness, which never comes easy. Once we are ready to show it outside, we can see the world shrinking into a small ball of hasty judgements, while we keep the time to make up our minds and eventually, stand for something we are thoroughly aware of.

on certain days i wake up

The art of waking up is quite bizarre. I am often intrigued with all the ways to start the day and how our subconsciousness can determine about the moments when we open our eyes. As I started writing down all the possible sensations, it turned out, waking up is treacherous and yet, very important. Setting the tone of our days, it also sets the tone of our life.

On certain days I wake up and feel nostalgic.
On certain days I wake up and immediately rise from bed.
On certain days I wake up and turn the music on.
On certain days I wake up and cover my head with a duvet.
On certain days I wake up and check the colour of the sky.
On certain days I wake up and feel distressed.
On certain days I wake up and feel happy the awaited morning has arrived.
On certain days I wake up and think the dream I had is real.
On certain days I wake up and think that soon, another night will come and I will sleep again.
On certain days I wake up and feel excited.
On certain days I wake up and miss my family.
On certain days I wake up and wish it was snowing.
On certain days I wake up and can't wait for other people to wake up.
On certain days I wake up and imagine I'm playing in a movie so that birds fly around my head.
On certain days I wake up and wish I was playing in an advert so I'd enthusiastically rise from bed following the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
On certain days I wake up and realise I am back home in my old bed.
On certain days I wake up and I'm not sure where I am.
On certain days I wake up and regret the drinks I had the night before.
On certain days I wake up and cannot believe my own luck.
On certain days I wake up and already know I have a new pimple of my face.
On certain days I wake up and wish I could stay in bed all day, reading books and eating pastries.
On certain days I wake up and feel cold.
On certain days I wake up because someone woke me up.
On certain days I wake up and can't wait for breakfast.
On certain days I wake up and feel incapable of doing simplest things.
On certain days I wake up and feel as if something bad has happened although everything is fine.
On certain days I wake up and think that life is pretty good.

the perks of being a girl

I was never a tomboy, but it has always seemed that a girl needs to come up to way too many expectations. She has to behave well, she has to be pretty. I treasure one particular memory in my mind, I was 5, maybe 6, my mum took me outside for a walk. I don’t remember the particular reason of this excursion, but what I vividly see is me wearing a dress, little pea coat and a beret. The first two I could somehow handle, but it was the headwear that I couldn’t bear. Featuring small embroidered tulips, I was taking it off while my mum persistently put it back on my head. I might have cried on that day or maybe I even yelled in exasperation. What I want to say is that on my short life’s timeline, this trivial event marked a certain beginning – a way to acceptance I will always be a girl.

Fifteen years later, there is nothing else I’d wish for. This has nothing to do with a feminist discourse, I am far from making radical statements or expressing strong opinions. Rather, I just feel it’s so much more luminous – the view of the world filtrated through a girl’s perspective. In fact, being a girl is cool for so many reasons I thought they need a proper list. Here it comes.

It’s generally accepted we can display our emotions. 

We can also talk about them.

We actually want to talk about them, analyse them and draw conclusions.

We are more likely to put pride aside.

We can be strong and sensitive at the same time.

There is nothing a girl wouldn't do for true love.

We value friendships.

We are free to wear any shade of pink if we feel like it.

We always look for someone to take care of.

And we also expect to be taken care of.

We can wear berets.

Most of our problems have been already solved by female press.

We inspired many more love songs than the opposite sex.

We have the ability to admit our weakness.

We can openly say our mums are our best friends.

We can play sports without feeling ashamed we totally suck at it.

We have girlfriends who stay overnight and can sleep under same bed sheets. 

We can act hysterical at times.

And romantic.

We can keep secrets. 

And follow the intuition.

on demands and expectations

 

They say you should demand from yourself.  They say you should never expect too much. I find those two statements contradictory, still, they rule our existence.

Whenever I think about my life, I have a feeling its outcome is dependent upon my own mobilisation. How much I am willing to give of myself, how many sacrifices I can make, how hard I am ready to work. This way of thinking is treacherous though – whenever things fall apart, you tend to blame yourself. But then what terrifies me more than self-condemnation is self-satisfaction. It just seems an ultimately deterring factor standing on my way to success. Whatever this success might be.

                                                                                                                           

I often wonder how to balance the ambition, dreams, realism and logic. They seem so contrasting, yet their presence in our life is unquestionable. We enter different periods, sometimes driven by wanderlust, sometimes driven by common sense. If one should ever disappear, what our life would be? Either a survival or a tale topped with disillusionment.

You get what you give, what goes around comes around and karma. Idioms, sayings and beliefs teach us, we need to try our best. Embracing life wisdom is not easy, it’s even more difficult to put it into practice. But I start to believe that it’s good to constantly strive for a little bit more, while trying to avoid being too harsh on yourself. On one end, we have failure, it’s fine. On the other lays success, this one is cool. Everything in between is life lessons. So formative. Somehow, I think they are the best of all.  

what makes me happy at times

a feeling of being rebellious/writing when the words come my way/harnessing fears/small coffees/sparkling drinks/croissants/and chocolate/croissants with chocolate/and almonds too/vinyl shopping/buying books and arranging them on shelves/remembering things/discovering new authors/coming across quotes I relate to/buying postcards/prosecco/travelling/hotels with pools/holding hands/cold showers on hot days/rain seen from the window/creating imaginary soundtracks/narrow streets of small mediterranean towns/when the plane prepares for landing and you know you will reach the destination soon/rooftops/hanging around until the sun comes up/sunsets/saying that i cannot do something but finally doing it and feeling secretly proud/industrial landscapes/paris/ordering a bottle of wine in a restaurant/cheese with cassis jam/watching french films/jazz/funk/rock/indie/electro/almost any type of music as long as it's good/almost any type of live music as long as it comes from the heart/first days of summer/wrapping christmas gifts/planning how i will spend money in the future/buying flowers/small vases/beautiful ceramics/people who make an effort to truly discover your mind/floating on the sea while the sun shines into your face/sleeping with windows open/the evenings when you know you're so tired you'll fall asleep the second your head touches the pillow/watching lost in translation for a thousand time/and eternal sunshine of the spotless mind/the lyrics of james taylor/romantic gestures/realising you are quite old-fashioned at heart/the jokes of mac demarco/being alone when you need it/cycling at dusk/forests/perfumes with intriguing smells/whole days planned with mom/true friendships/hard work/people who can listen/projecting the future/walking down the street listening to music and imagining you are playing in the movie/dancing and forgetting oneself/eating ice cubes/nutella/speaking french/collecting magazines/reading at cafes/reading on the metro/reassuring moments when you realise no one is really normal/curiosity/meeting with friends on fridays after work/vintage shopping/floral patterns/summer dresses/challenges/dreams/starting new things/the fact that the future is unknown/smiling to oneself when remembering something nice/snow/playing scrabble/when you realise all previous experiences led you exactly to the point you are now and nothings was a coincidence/instagramming pictures of beautiful places/coming back home after a long time/the moment at the airport just before crossing the arrival gates when you know you are about to see your family/people with sense of humour/trusting myself/candles/making fashion investments/driving the car at night/receiving letters/spontaneity/making lists

PS In comparisoin to compiling a 'what makes me sad at times' list, this one was way much easier to do. Does it mean I am happy?

seasons

I never liked the question about my favourite season. The further winter is from me, the more I miss it. The distance of summer days sparks longing for bright, warm nights. Autumn may not be here yet, but I feel it. I remember the smell of young trees in June, a colour of sun-touched skin, the awakenings and opening the window where the world appeared green and yellow –the colours my memory has kept. Now, every morning carries a breeze. It’s a breeze of fading leaves and a call of first winds.

I moved to Paris a year ago and the automnal image of the city is the one I carry in my mind. Somehow, it feels more familiar. The noise of children playing in school’s backyards, they just got back from holiday. The sun lighting up Haussmann’s architecture is not so vague, but rather orange, shimmering gold. The Pere-Lachaise and stacks of brown leaves. Baguettes fresh from the ovens warming up my hands.

Sometimes all we have is a collection of images inside our heads that we can stick to. I feel this is how we approach seasons. We temember each in a unique way, each carries a meaning and a recollection of a life once lived. How was the sky outside and what were the sounds like on this exact moment you were walking down those beautiful or hideous streets with heart full of feeling towards people you miss. A relation between time-the surroundings-the feeling-the mindset is a very strong one, creating attachments to things as little as the particular sunlight or the specific smell of the ground. If anyone thinks it’s a question of sensitivty, he’d rather dig deep into one’s mind. I believe everyone can find those links.

wishes are memories coming from our future

In ‘Letters on Life’, Rainer Maria Rilke shared this thought with a reader. This not the type of quote that offers salvation, in fact, it may not strike you at all. Your eyes can easily pass it by, following the stream of sentences, all smart and filled with unusual sensitivity.

I didn’t realise how simple it is. I stopped reading and analysed each word separately to find the logic. A wish (something I hope for) is a memory (is it possible?) coming (not yet here) from my future (the unknown). I put the sentence together once again to fully grasp its wisdom. Things I hope for are visualisations of things that will appear in my future, as they are all within my reach. This utopian message seemed too good to come from Rilke, who believed that humility in front of life is one the greatest human traits.

I began to wonder what is a difference between a wish and potential? How can we turn it into the future and can we ever suppose we are not capable enough to put ideas into action? How to measure what is realistic and what is just a vague, diaphanous dream? How terrifying this dilemma actually is, pushing us to admit own weakness and filter them through the blurry landscapes of own fate, undefined circumstances that one day will become the future. This way of thinking can discourage the biggest enthusiast, magnify the fears and leave one trembling that soon he’ll be a victim of own expectations.

Rilke stirred some hopes, so I thought I’ll approach his words as a hypothesis, a possibility. Although it provoked certain optimism, I cannot rely solely on things that have not been proved by an example of my own life. In the end, each existence is an individual case study. I just decided to do everything I can to make things work on all levels, from career to self-development, from emotions to physical strength. We all wish that by doing our best, we’ll avoid regret. A future devoid of regret sounds pretty good to me.