I’m learning to listen. I’m learning to be more quiet in my life. I’m learning to hear what can’t make a sound. I’m learning to sing a song filled with grace. I can't bear it. (Being so quiet). But I can use the unbearable as a purifying flame that keeps me thoroughly warm, that keeps me teeming with fuel for another day, another hour, (another second).
But I just met a boy, he doesn’t speak my language and I don’t speak his. I’ll tell you about him now:
(But first, some context)
A few years ago I watched this video I found on YouTube, about this woman who fell in love with this guy in Japan. He didn’t speak any English and she didn’t speak any Japanese. Yet somehow they made it work, and now they're married.
I didn’t understand them at all, in fact, I thought they must have been shallow people to have the ability to have an entire relationship with somebody you can’t talk with. For me, the most important thing right off the bat is to be able to have intimate and serious conversation. So I couldn’t conceptualize people who did not need to have this. They must go only off of looks? Or fear of loneliness?
In the book “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho, he talks about the language of the soul of the world. An intimate knowingness between your heart and all things. There is one scene where the main character is sitting in a bar in a city that he doesn’t know the language of. He sees the people around him and knows them already in some other way that can’t be explained by words. Just something more pure, something invisible.
A scream that can’t be known.
With this boy that I met, there is something hidden beneath the surface. It is not shallow. I know nothing about him, yet I have spent three days with him in an emotionally intimate setting. There is something cautiously waiting. There is something which is secret.
I want to know myself through him. I want him to know himself through me. This is a love letter. I consist only of questions. I don’t know what I want anymore. All I know is that I want to be known. I am gathering pieces of myself throughout the world; they are spread, scattered about like shells in the ocean. They're grown on the backs of crustaceans.
My thoughts are like opal, they change color in the light. My heart is tugging on me like a wild horse. We are riding together.
I’m on the earth, I’m swimming through sand. Everything is solid to the mind. Everything is gaseous and made of mist/dust to the heart. Everything is uncertain in a strange land. Everything is melting. Dripping down the back of my spine like I’ve been sick for months. I’m coughing up my missed opportunities and they make me nauseous, they make me wretch. They make me explode. I want to grasp things like straws.
Today I found out the boy grew up in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro. And he’s afraid of the moon, I haven’t discovered why yet. We’re learning,, slowly.
In a public space I can gather bits and pieces from everyone around me. I start to like certain dates more than others now. I never liked the summer but it’s growing on me. Coffee sounds nice. Maybe I’ll start smoking cigarettes. Maybe I’ll take up a new hobby like picking apart wine corks while sitting on the ground of a hostel. These are all things that I have absorbed since being here. Since just being surrounded by the group. Since just knowing myself through you.
He’s so nice. He cooked me a traditional meal from where he grew up. I was too nervous to come over so he saved it for me for tomorrow.
I think he’s a really good person.
We have a backlog of many of our conversations on google translate, this is something very unique about this relationship. I can look back at what we said to each other in the moment. We can see how we were feeling in words. We have to be explicit and punctual and succinct about what we want and expect from each other. We have to give more than we receive, and that's something radical nowadays.
Here are some things that I have said to him through google translate:
This relationship is teaching me patience. It's teaching me another culture. It's teaching me a language which does not involve words. A language of the soul of the world. Something very special. And most importantly, it's teaching what it's like to love YOU. and i would never give up the chance to learn what it's like to love someone. There is no more beautiful experience in the world.
If I lose you, I will cry, and I will LOVE that sadness. because each tear symbolizes how much I must have had the privilege to experience love. Each tear reminds me of the beauty of the enmeshment of human emotion and life. My tears create new life.my tears are a symbol of my love. And how lucky am I to have had so much of it in my life? Who am I to complain about that?
You are a boulder in the sun and I am the flowing river that surrounds you.
You can't stop love from coming in. Love is inconvenient. Love is intense. Love is here. The more you push against a storm, the more wet you will get. It's useless. You can only accept it and enjoy the beautiful intensity of nature.
I am always learning.
I will certainly form some kind of connection, but to me this is the kind of connection which is based on the same kind of connection you have with a gift that you are meant to give away. If you worked very hard on a birthday gift for someone and you pour your heart and soul into it and love it, at the end of the day, its whole purpose was to be a gift for someone who is not you. Its whole purpose is to be given away. That’s a beautiful sacrifice.
Aproveita muito muito muito todos os lugares onde, espalhe amor e transborde esse coração de alegria. Voce e incrivel. <3
(Sorry for my temporary absence. I was going, going, going, fearing, loving, growing, intensity, planting seeds. Now the seeds are blooming and whoever hears my words can profit from them, I hope. I am here!)
(The background paintings on my title and ending cards are by @sheepeden on twitter).
such beautiful writing 🤍