[ Wander to wonder ]

“I have a spare bus ticket. Up for a trip to the mountain?” a friend asked.

It was rather unusual that I was invited for an event or an adventure or whatnot since I was almost always the miserable wallflower. Deep down I was glad that someone knew I existed and cared enough to offer company.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, if there is nobody else who wants it,” I answered casually without sounding too desperate. In fact, I got so excited before even fully knowing what the trip was all about. We were talking about mountain here, my friend. Being outdoor was never my forte but I dared myself to give it a shot this one time. It was a bus trip and it couldn’t be that strenuous to explore the area, or so I thought. Besides, I would have the opportunity to take nice photographs of the surrounding. Kill two birds with one stoneI muttered to myself.

Never did I anticipate that I missed the throw and hit none. It was Ben Lomond, a mountain suited for someone fit for hiking and there I was wondering what hell on earth I signed up for. It has been proven that our agreement to Terms & Conditions is the biggest lie on the web, perhaps due to its excessive wordiness and our mentality that none of those points would harm in any way if we just do what we usually do. However, reading the small print could save us from big trouble. The problem is I didn’t even read the big print, duh!

Being outdoor is never my  forte, if I haven’t emphasized it enough already, but I didn’t realize it until I attempted it. Indeed, you’ll never know the depth of the water until you immerse yourself in it. I was just being trying to be adventurous and hoped it was worth it. There and then, I wondered.

The weather was kind. The sun was shining bright. The massive clouds were white and fluffy, overshadowing the plains. The sky was blue and clear. Why wouldn’t I be content?

The surrounding was amazing. The view was breathtaking. The path was dry. The rocks were smooth and steady. The trees, the grass, and the hills were a beautiful combination of autumn colors. The lakes were sparkling, reflecting the sunlight directly into my eyes. The breeze was blowing my hair gently. What was not to love?

I realized after a few hours that the gentle slope had turned to a steeper one, demanding more from my barely-remaining stamina. The more I climbed up, the harder my breathing became. It was more like a marathon than a sprint and I knew it was beyond my capacity to excel in that. I didn’t want to be regarded as someone who gave up easily but the more I pushed myself, the faster my heartbeat and body pulses got. It came to the point that the tips of my fingers and toes went numb from the cold, begging more for my persistence.

I willed myself to surpass what I always thought I could do but it made my head spin, probably as a result of either the lack of blood sugar or lack of determination. I wondered why I decided to go on this expedition to reach the peak in the first place, whether it was the right choice at all. Every nerve of my being started protesting for me to stop and then roll back down to the very base. My body didn’t feel like my own, it didn’t perform as my mind told it so. My legs wanted to give way. My tears and perspiration united as one pool of water drops which were too quickly wiped away by the wind for people to notice.

I started thinking of my family to distract myself that I came away thus far from home to achieve the unachievable. I started to question my life and dived into a deep and reflective mood. I begun to understand myself a little better. It was more practical to relent to the temptation of picking the easy way out, but thankfully my perspective was somewhat distorted by what I saw. The two young boys who overtook me seemed to enjoy the journey and not grumbled like I did. A few meters in front of me, there was an elderly couple who kept going enthusiastically with their walking sticks at hand. Further up, there was a man in his 30’s lifting up a bike with both hands while walking uphill. How could I call it a day without giving my all when these people persevered on despite their limitations?

Suddenly I remembered the friend who invited me. He was nowhere in sight. I bet he reached the top in half the time I would take to do the same. He grew up near the mountain, after all. No, Tania, that was just a mere excuse to make yourself feel better. I would do my best was all I expected myself to accomplish. However, one by one, people were passing me. This was quite obvious from the fact that only the back view of these people was captured in my camera, wasn’t it? I was embarrassed but who was I to think they were judging me? I could have been over-thinking it, as always.

Unlike any other successful stories which usually end up with the “heroes” victoriously conquered the obstacles, I didn’t. Or, well, I did the small ones. This is supposed to be a blog for people to seek inspiration, to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and there I dug out the gold from the mine for you. Oh, was it even a gold! Always try to perceive the brighter side of life during the dark moments even when you don’t have a torchlight. I didn’t reach the top but I was satisfied, and I don’t have a torchlight with me.

I wandered and thus I wondered.

Veni, vidi, vici. I came, I saw, I got conquered. Oh, God, no!

 

Cheers

[ Gone with the wind ]

If you are friends with me, sadly only on Facebook, you’d have noticed my status post which unsurprisingly got a massive number of thumbs-up in less than 24 hours. Out of my 1047 friends and growing, 8 liked it. Let me repeat that again, out of MY 1047 FACEBOOK friends which is equivalent to 8 individuals if you know what I’m talking about, EVERYONE liked it. How amazing is that? Don’t answer that.

The line was a pure genius and a masterpiece nobody has ever invented, or at least none to my knowledge. It is concise but yet full of meaning. It is within the Twitter´s word count limit but is far too worthy to be re-tweeted. Besides that, my Twitter account seems to get hacked somehow. Anyhow, sometimes anything around you can spark the creativity signal transmission within your brain cells. Anything, weather included.

image

These few days have been terribly windy, the velocity of which I’ve never encountered before. On the street, I could see people scrunching up their face, as if worried that the wind would blow their facial features away. The eerie howling of the breeze, the rustling of crispy and dry autumn leaves, the rhythmic clanging of empty cans and the clinking of empty bottles from the previous late night became the music to my ears.

No amount of physical clothing could protect me from the impending agony. I once considered covering my face with the thick scarf, which I purposely bought for the weather, but thought that my vision would be impaired. Something transparent would work, I pondered, but wrapping my head with a bubble wrap would make me look like an astronaut wannabe and I wouldn’t want that. Don’t laugh it off, though, this could potentially inspire people to land on Mars, mind you.

I was inspired, too, to be a ninja. A half-covered face looks decent but not daring enough to impress. It wouldn’t be of much use either since dusts and whatnot could still intrude my eyeballs. Those with long hair was much worse off. They ended up looking like a medusa-headed creature. Well, actually that was me. The wind not only blew straight on my face, but also brought with it cold and sorrow. When it blew past me, my hair got swept away and so did my courage and enthusiasm to face the day. The warmth and comfort of home was all I craved for, even though my stomach was empty.

The wind has its own timely gestures. It blows along with you, sweeps you off your feet and guides your every step without you being in control. For once, the world is on your side. However, it also blows against your direction and throws at your face the reality of life that everything doesn’t go as you please. How ironic is that? Perhaps I just over-think situations.

Having been just half an hour outdoor already rendered my fingers and toes lifeless, they were as good as frozen nuggets. My head went cold and my brain frozen as if I had just gulped a BIG GULP. The weather had too much more influence on my being than it was supposed to. It was as if the wind was wiping off the dust together with my logic and feelings. Only when my limbs felt numb did I realize my heart felt the same. All I could recall was the memory that joy, regret, excitement and despair were merely a set of feelings to survive through life.

My inspirations to be someone I’m not: an astronaut, a ninja, and a medusa are all gone with the wind.

 

Cheers

[ Back to nature ]

Art is a form of expression of feelings and thoughts.
Painting, photography, poetry, tapestry, you name it.
They do not always work best alone, though, especially when intricate idealism is proposed.
More often than not, a collaboration is required to project the intended interpretation.

Art is composed of, if not inspired by, nature.
It represents the voice of the nature calling for some actions.
Or perhaps, the need to preserve the future.

Nature never ceases to amaze me with its surprises.
The height of the tallest tree does not match up to the unreachable sky.
The vast grassland is nothing compared to the boundless earth.
Our eyes is the only limit to the immense color spectrum that nature imparts to us.

Being in nature makes me feel alive.
It rejuvenates, it refreshes.
It takes away the burdens of life and casts them aside, for the moment.
It realizes the sweet taste of freedom.

Freedom, which makes me reflect upon life.
There is hunger to be accepted and loved,
to be on top of the world but not stumble.
There is thirst to be part of a community,
to interact and connect with the surroundings.

I suppose it is human nature to want to satisfy this emotional appetite.
It is neither right nor wrong.
Just like art,
it is time to go back to nature.

Cheers

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