Last week, I decided to make life come to a standstill, for a while. I needed to breathe, I needed to remember the magical moments I live for. After all, what am I if I stop dreaming?

I followed the trail; I walked along the path; I admired the trees, some of them reaching for the sky – at one point, I became one of them, I felt. I crossed brooks, paddled in the water, relishing in the squelching sound my shoes made. I sat by a river, took out my Kindle, read a few poems, softly, out loud.

And I remembered… it seemed that all the memories circumambulated the trees! I also remembered the tough times from which I wouldn’t absquatulate, although I wouldn’t quite want to relive them! I wished I could collect all the moments in my hands, hold them, breathe through them, and then let them go, like water seeping through…

I needed the quietness (the leaves rustling), the loneliness (finding myself), the nothingness (nothing mattered), the forgetfulness (unheard melodies), the playfulness (ambling delectably)… I needed it all.

I walked out (against my deepest desires!) rejuvenated, ebullient, yet restful, like a puzzle that had finally found its last missing piece… Completely disconnected from reality, irrevocably reconnected with my inner self.

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