He woke up like in a daze. Maybe he had dreamt something. He couldn’t remember. One says that if one wants to remember a dream, even in a detailed fashion, one needs not to face the window in the morning. Lights can steal both the essence and the details of the story or stories of the night. So, maybe he had faced the window. He couldn’t remember that either.

He woke up with this pleasant feeling though. It was like everything was coming into place after a considerable time of waiting and just waiting.

That feeling that everything was right. He was in the right place, at the right time, with the right people or that right special someone.

It will come to him, he was sure of it. He will go out, taking a walk in the morning, enjoying the silence before life with its noises begins.

He will indulge himself a break. He will begin the day irresponsibly, by taking a little bit of time only for himself.

And maybe it will come to him. Or maybe not. Either way, this sense of belonging was something new to him. He couldn’t qualify or describe it just yet. He only knew he was scared and happy at the same time.

All this silence, all this numbness in the mornings was surreal. A few cars or loners passing by. The night still fighting the day for the supremacy of the moment. Some stars and the shadow of what it used to be just a while ago a full moon.

And him, on a bench in the park, drinking coffee and breathing and thinking about … What was he thinking about?

The other day. The other day was the opposite of the beginning of this new one. Tough at work, some fights, some conflicts. He hates conflicts. Always had. Still, lots of stress. He was even amazed he could fall asleep so easily. But in those hatred instants he remembered a faint of light, of warmth.

He remembered his true job just by watching through the window the rain pouring down, detaching himself from the white noise of the office, while a meeting of some kind had been taken place…

It was just last week that he added something to his collection.

He had met what writers would define as a true character. A strange man who became the very definition of authenticity.

Another type of authentic.

Are you aware of how people always make huge and constant efforts to be accepted, to blend in?

Well…he was not doing that… At all.


It was just last week that I was taking a walk to clear my mind and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, he appeared in front of me, wearing some sort of a big, white handkerchief, bare feet, lying in the grass, apparently doing nothing. It’s true it took me by surprise and I gazed for what I thought it was for a little while, though he didn’t take it that way. He stood up, looked at me and asked me why I was staring like that. It was impolite. He was right. It was. I apologized and wanted to continue my morning walk. He began to laugh and told me he was joking. Then, the saddest eyes, he explained to me that he was a bit disappointed but that it wasn’t my fault. I asked him why, he didn’t answer. But it was fine.  I understood in the end. He invited me to join him.

‘Join you in what?’

‘Lay down here beside me…Just for a little while. I promise you it won’t take long. I won’t waste much of your time.’

‘It’s not like that…It’s just it’s so unusual…requests like that…’

‘I know, I know, I’m aware of the strangeness of it all, but bear with me. I think it will help us both. Don’t you get bored?’

‘Bored with what?’

‘Bored with doing the right thing, every time. Don’t you feel tense or pressured? Don’t you need a break once in a while?’

He was making a strong point, so I accepted his offer.

I just laid alongside with him. We gazed at the sky, watching the clouds. We felt the earth. We smelled the grass and the freshness of the air. We barely spoke. Somehow, we didn’t need to.

‘I just sit here once in a while, doing nothing, worrying about not a single thing in the world, just being, existing, enjoying the fact that I’m alive. Breathing and existing are so easy. Sometimes, living makes them difficult.’

I didn’t know what to say. I’ve never thought about that. I’ve always avoided the big topics, the important ones, the essentials, as they say. It was too much for me and I truly believe, even now, that these kinds of subjects are too much for all of us. We aren’t meant to find answers, only more unsolvable puzzles. It’s a trap. We have our beauty, our imagination, our limited amount of consciousness, but that’s it. The big answers to the big questions it’s just not for our human boundaries. I’m sure we’ll find them, but not just now. So, I didn’t know what to say.

I laid down and nothing happened. After a while I began to grow frustrated and agitated and even overwhelmed by all these sensations and feelings and thoughts. I was like a device in sleep mode. I was…paused. Like when watching a movie and somebody calls you on the phone. Although in a bad state, I felt more of myself as I truly was as a human being. I realized that it was me. That chaotic way of merely existing it was me. I wasn’t surprised like if I’ve already knew, but wasn’t able to accept it or face the truth.

Now I was forced to do it, to see it and I had two choices: to fight chaos or to let it pass me by, to acknowledge, to embrace it, but not fight it.

‘Don’t fight it,’ he said to me and I got scared by the way he has seemed to know what I was thinking. But I didn’t. I didn’t fight it and after another while, I felt the most complete state of peace. And there was that silence. They couldn’t break me anymore…the sensations, the feelings, the thoughts. It was just peaceful. I was accepting myself, I was accepting them and peace was the reward for all of it.

‘Now just breathe. You’re enough. You don’t need to do anything. Nobody wants anything from you. You are the way you are. It’s not good, or bad. It just is. You are. You exist, you breathe and that it’s all that you know for sure. And it’s a big deal, the biggest of them all. You’re enough.’

I was tired for so long. I was sleeping a lot, even more than normal, from my point of view, but I was still very tired. I was tired for so long and now I felt energy and a good, clear state of mind. It was as if a cloud or a shadow lifted from my mind and soul. I felt rested, calm and full of ideas and the right amount of energy to make them happen in reality.

I stood up and looked at him. I smiled and he understood because I was at a loss for words. But he didn’t mind or care and I felt the same way. Words weren’t necessary anymore. I smiled and he understood.

That was enough, I was enough, and he was enough. What about you?


see chapter zero