The best of life is lived slowly, I am convinced. Of space.
Giving space to the senses, to feelings, to thoughts, to possibilities.
I can't even imagine how much we lose by living in a hurry. In speed, where is the sweetness of softness?, where is the warmth of silence?, where is peace? There it is, probably, the peace always is, but how to enjoy it while rushing to the next step?
In my solitude I find peace, one that only comes when I slow down, and there in the tranquility I listen to the silence. The silence so loved and longed for.
I remind myself that silence is only found in my own rhythm, and that it is generally so similar to that of the breeze that accompanies me. Nature and its rhythm are such a clear example of how everyone has their times, because some will be children of thunder, others the warm breeze under a fig tree.
Go slowly, giving space to move my interior.
