On mountains' lessons in thinking

There is a certain indulgence in writing a blog. You take the risk of being read by people who will not understand what you are writing about and will take their own round of interpretations, suited to an individual degree of knowing and interest in you. It's easier when you accept that all that you are writing falls into an abyss of words – sometimes not spoken and at times only uttered during daytime. Some may call it hypocrisy of the thought, while it is more a certain lack of direction. You write for yourself, sometimes launching messages incorrectly understood by the ones who read you. But that doesn't matter, because for you the act of writing unleashes the sort of internal energy which lets you whisper “yes, and now they will understand”. Well they don't.

Last week I returned from Austria with the clear vision and lasting happiness only snowy mountains and cold mountain lakes could give me. Certain things cleared up like the clouds from the hills in the morning, and sadness vanished as though it never was there. My friends and I have often had debates regarding the futility of persisting in dreaming the dreams and not living them out. So I was very glad to feel how cold thinking can really push dreams further into reality. Just like putting on the right pair of glasses, future now unwinds clearly and though unforeseen, the path is not frightful anymore but rewarding.

Wrapped in your arms where it's peaceful
Back in your arms where I'm happy
I would do anything gladly
Only to see you again
(Gloria Estefan, Wrapped)