Have you ever walked straight through a subway train? Walked it like it was a hallway? Like everyone’s faces and bodies were portraits? I did that today. I walked and walked from the front almost to the end and heard the weight of my feet, the tapping of my boots. I felt the air brush past my face and blow my hair. I saw each person as I walked by and one by one they went in and out of my vision, as if I were viewing them on opposing conveyor belts. Have you ever noticed the symmetry of buildings? The bricks, stones, cement, concrete, windows, doors, and entrances in different positions and arranged in patterns; arranged carefully for us to weave in and out of. The symmetry of an entrance served as a way for us to go into and out of. Serving that mere purpose. I walk through the city sometimes and I am amazed by architecture and design and symmetry. The symmetry of specific structures and patterns designed purposely. Sometimes I have days where I appreciate the simple navigation of my day. Other times, I dread pulling myself out of bed, let alone into the city. I don’t notice the people on the subway, the entrances and exits, the castle-like architecture. I don’t notice the simplicity or the complexity of my surroundings.
I feel weight.
I am trying to have more days like today; enjoying the air and trees and buildings and my own company. Sometimes, it can’t be done. Not every day will be like today. Maybe, not even a full day. Maybe not even half. I just wish there was less weight. Less heaviness. I just wish for more lightness in my being. But even something as beautiful as a castle is heavy. Its construction is made up to be heavy in order to hold itself. But it’s still beautiful. It’s still strong and still standing.