Some mornings, I glance out of my window and see balloons flying in the sky. There was once I was facetiming a friend when the balloons flew past, and he squealed (almost shrieked!) and told me of this quote that he once read in Song of Solomon, “You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.” We laughed at the sudden hilarity of the situation, but soon quietened as we let the truth of the quote sink in. We do have to give up ‘weighted shit’ to ascend to new heights, both figuratively and, I guess, literally too.
You know how it is to run and run and run until You no longer know the road like the palm of Your hand. To get lost, to feel free, to be comfortable in solitude, to just… be truly and unapologetically happy. How it is to embrace spontaneity, that wonderful bit of an unbridled, unplanned outburst that just comes. Or how it is to watch with glittering eyes the whole world around You because (as Roald Dahl firmly believes and I firmly second) the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. It's like an unexpected twinkly-eyed smile from a stranger, or that amazement and sudden speechlessness when standing before a part of this world that challenges the limits of beauty that You'd previously set for this planet, or… that disbelief when You go about Your usual activities and suddenly get caught in assisting the landing of giant hot air balloons. It's all magic, spontaneity, and adventure, and the world is patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper to acknowledge that that's what it all is and always has been.
These mornings would be my favourites for reasons other than them being a reminder of that wonderful Song of Solomon quote and motivation to go for a run; these mornings would be my favourites also because they’d have the best weather — balloon rides will only be permitted on days with good weather (for safety and enjoyability reasons)… and days with the best weather only bring out the best of moods. It becomes, I suppose, a virtuous cycle.
I end my runs with a moment of peace and deep breathing on that bench by the lonesome tree in the middle of the circular field. It reminds me of a similar bench located by a similar tree back in Munich, somewhere along the outer ring of Olympiapark.
The view is different, but the feelings of comfort and consolation don’t differ too much.
Sometimes I read a book, other times I hum a song I love.
Sometimes I bring a friend and we fill the silence with giggles, other times I play with dogs that make their way to my feet.
But sometimes I just sit and be absolutely content with the peace in and around me, knowing and trusting that it is fine to just be.
Oh bless, bless, BLESS!