Rhodes – The Arrival

And so a journey begins, where it always begins: somewhere along the way.

I am not sure where I am, or where I am going. I feel that gentle unease that rides with anticipation and longing, and that I know will not be assuaged by mindless reassurance and platitudes. It is, and will be what it is.

To know and to trust, and let the feelings flow yet not dictate, that is, I believe, the way.

Love lies at the root of it all. Love for myself, and love for all those dear to me, and all those whose paths I cross in life. Love and truth will always bring me back to where I need to be, whether that be in joy or grief, excitement or trepidation; it is all part of the journey.

I sit here now, outside my room in the ancient town of Rhodes. So, so ancient. I can feel it in the air, in the stones beneath my feet and in the walls. I wander the lanes lost and curious, stop for coffee in the touristy centre, my mind and heart flitting from this to that like a curious yet timid bird.

I find myself thinking how all the shops and restaurants selling their wares are just like in any other tourist town in any other country, and yes they are. Then, for a moment my mind quietens, and I realise that what I see, the restaurant billboards, the multitudinous souvenirs, are mere surface, passing moments in history to be appreciated for what they are. Yet behind all this, under all this, is an infinite universe of time. Time before and time yet to come all wrapped up in this moment.

Below the surface there is everything. Everything that ever was and ever will be.

And within me, there is all things. My perception, my thinking mind, purely surface. Valuable and worthy, yet purely surface.

Beneath it all, within it all, without it all, lies the infinite. The infinite of being.