Every travel that worths the name, is never “too expensive”. Every travel, you pay one and get two: the material travel and the one inside yourself. First one is the one that makes you more poor, second one more rich.
Expensive, poor, rich…terms that get lost with the trail of the plane that is taking me to the first stop of this other trip to mother Africa, in Kenya.
6:30am: take off and after a while we fly side by side to a big storm in all of its majesty and menace.
Occasionally, I’m seated at the window-seat that let me enjoy the show: nature’s majesty and power leave me mind blown like a kid that for the first time see the ocean. Neither the scare of looking at those thunders flashing into the black clouds and the plane that shake distract me during this kindof “stendhal’s syndrome sci-fi”.
And here, I think to how big we feel down on earth..in between our lifes. When we play with the power sometimes making feel the others so small reasonless. How much it means for us to ride amazing cars, have beautiful houses, fashion clothes. How much do we proportionally increase our material side and gradually loosing heart and soul.
How much do we give to the others and how much do we ask them?
And I try to identify myself for a while in God, Allah, Buddah, whoever..looking from above.
What do I see? meat dots without collars, shape, age, religions..that run around like ants, metal squares that run over grey lines through concrete squares. And I think that probably those people down here didn’t really understand what’s going on.
Back into myself, back small and mortal, suspended in between earth and infinite I take a deep breath and think about the persons I love and I feel them close.
That’s the way my travel begins: floating throughout thought’s clouds…and suddenly, everything turns sunny.