I’m here. I haven’t disappeared. I just feel good.
The bright circles of Samsara are behind me.
The composition of Bardo ends with gentle notes in my soul.
Life.
I sit under the sun.
White dandelions grow around me, and a cool breeze is blowing.
It’s so peaceful here.
Sometimes I’m afraid to leave this place,
but it’s an essential part of the cycle—
a cycle that will repeat again and again,
as long as I live.
Traces.
Many traces remain in my soul.
I’m so grateful that, despite this,
I accept every challenge.
I don’t hide.
I know it can hurt,
but isn’t that where all the beauty lies?
A conversation on the phone.
So subtle and beautiful,
yet it left two souls frightened and unready.
I felt it.
My goal was to float in a boat on calm waters—
not to jump on a speeding train.
— Have you come back yet?
— No.
— Why?
— Because I feel good here.
I observe and trust life.
Sometimes people call me “an elephant,”
but I honestly don’t care anymore.
Why explain to others that I’m not an elephant,
when deep inside, I know it’s not true?
There’s beauty in that too.
All the blind return to the darkness,
and only a few remain
on the sunny meadow with the dandelions.
May 10, 2025
May 10, 2025 at 10:55 AM UTC
I’m here. I haven’t disappeared. I just feel good.
The bright circles of Samsara are behind me.
The composition of Bardo ends with gentle notes in my soul.
Life.
I sit under the sun.
White dandelions grow around me, and a cool breeze is blowing.
It’s so peaceful here.
Sometimes I’m afraid to leave this place,
but it’s an essential part of the cycle—
a cycle that will repeat again and again,
as long as I live.
Traces.
Many traces remain in my soul.
I’m so grateful that, despite this,
I accept every challenge.
I don’t hide.
I know it can hurt,
but isn’t that where all the beauty lies?
A conversation on the phone.
So subtle and beautiful,
yet it left two souls frightened and unready.
I felt it.
My goal was to float in a boat on calm waters—
not to jump on a speeding train.
— Have you come back yet?
— No.
— Why?
— Because I feel good here.
I observe and trust life.
Sometimes people call me “an elephant,”
but I honestly don’t care anymore.
Why explain to others that I’m not an elephant,
when deep inside, I know it’s not true?
There’s beauty in that too.
All the blind return to the darkness,
and only a few remain
on the sunny meadow with the dandelions.