mistermellz

Today I went for a walk. Just for the walking and the breathing. I wasn't even going to go trough there but the gates were open and I felt such joy the first time I went there.

There is some kind of magic going on in this place, yet it is nothing more than a park. A park with trees, and grass, and ponds, and birds and dogs that chase them. As i entered the gates for the second time of my stay here in London there was nothing that had changed. Everything was just as stunningly beautiful as it had been that day Caroline and I first walked trough. The branches of all kinds of trees still hung over my head, giving me the same sense of comfort and peace as they had before. It was just as peaceful yet full of life.

As I started walking the same way I had before in high tempo I glanced over at all the benches standing alongside the path. Carved into the back of the first dark wooden bench were letters. "In loving memory of my wife Ivory who loved this park". My mind flew directly to a scene in the movie Nothing Hill where Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant jumped a fence and walked trough a closed park to find a bench just like it. I stopped right then and there to turn around and face the park once again.

The trees, the grass the birds; it al looked so harmonic. It al belonged. Layers and layers of different things happening from the sky down to the ground in perfect synchronize.

Over the treetops the skyscrapers of the city stretched tall, but too far away to be nothing more than a painting on a wall. The wall of leafs and branches connected to the ceiling of clouds that was hanging low over the place that this Ivory once had loved.

The scenery completely and fully enclosed me and all my senses. The music from my headphones might have had a minor impact. As I stood there, still frozen in front of Ivory's bench I noticed they were all engraved. Clearly these were no ordinary furniture. What a simple yet selfless and grand gift they were. For their loved ones to be remembered by and for everyone still walking this fast phased earth to rest for a while.

The next bench was donated in memory of a man who had passed only halfway trough his life. He was a screenplay writer. The next one after that encouraged everyone passing by to sit down and rest, the next one to enjoy the view for a while. I moved from bench to bench overwhelmed with feelings. They flooded down my cheeks, bursted out of my lips in a laughter  and pierced straight trough, out of my chest.

This walk, this ordinary walk trough this unordinary park was one of the greatest moments of my short life.

One of the benches was donated in memory of a young man who's life had ended after only 22 years. As old as I am now. Apparently he had enjoyed a great amount of time in this park before he passed. I thought, how unfair for him to die so young, yet how happy I was that he got to go here. I wonder if he died suddenly or if maybe he was ill for a long time and somehow knew his name was going to end up on one of these benches. His bench stood by itself on the other end of the pond. It was the only one that I decided to sit on.

The moment I walked out those gates I knew I would never be the same, in all the right ways. If I could only contribute to this world with one piece of advice, I would say; live to inspire, and let yourself be inspired. By every single thought crossing your mind. Every visible and invisible thing, big or small gestures, good or bad experience. I want you to keep your mind open, take in and share as much as you physically and mentally bare to. If you do so you will never feel empty nor will you feel too full, like you are not contributing. The circle of energy will just go on.

Det jag inte skriver i bloggen, det jag skriver för mig själv, skriver jag oftast på engelska. Det är inte felfritt, och jag är inte ens säker på om det ens låter bättre än om jag skrivit det på svenska, men det är så det kommer till mig av någon anledning. Jag tar allt som det kommer.

Waterlow Park, image: google.