Dear My Former Self.
Vernal Equinox
Dear My Former Self.
I’m watching the Youtube channel of your life passing you by while you sit on your ass letting automatic play decide your fate. Six years ago following a group of Gurkhas down and up their steep Himalayan valley, wild cooking next to and swimming in a river, trusting life, food and homemade alcohol. A family with little more than a two-roomed corrugated steel-shack, a cow, a distillery and a hope that their son will do better than themselves and become the electrician of his dreams. Best of friends for a day, Marches since then with warm winds promising spring remind you of days in Darjeeling and the mountains beyond, but what of the mountains beyond your horizon now? They gaze over you, but you hesitate to set foot into their foothills you longingly gaze back upon every day. Changing through the seasons, no, changing each day as you walk the flatlands around your house, what is holding you back? Comfort, contentedness, happiness and more, perhaps a little fear that you can no longer in your ageing shell, climb these mountains you long for. "Go away, thieves of the mind!" Of course you don’t believe it so, so promise me the postcard that follows this must be sent from a new mountain top joyful movement.
Wish you were here…
James
