After drifting in and out of jet-lagged sleep, consciousness slowly starts to grip my fog-filled mind. Delaying the moment when I open my eyes, I smile, taking in the sounds of the traffic, people, and construction going on right outside my second story window within sight of Centraal Station. I’m sure not too many other people are comforted by the obnoxious sounds of a bulldozer, but for me it means that I’m back in the city, in the heart of it all where I belong.
The city is where things happen, where people collide, and where ideas converge and are borne into reality. These ideas subsequently spread among cities and eventually trickle down into more rural areas. It’s a place where I’m confronted with harsh realities and I’m forced to think about what my part is to play in it all. I need the city, and the city needs me, even if the magnification factor on my side of the equation is considerably smaller. I recently heard an astrophysicist claim that if the mass of the universe differed by as little as the size of a dime, it would be impossible for life to exist. So each part, however small, is significant.
This particular city has such a sweet appeal for me. The curved roofs of the canal houses speak undeniably of Europe. In the middle of winter, there’s green grass. The fragrance of summer lingers in the floating flower market as I walk past tulip bulbs, holding within them the promise of things to come. And that promise is what excites and intrigues me, and pulls me forward into the unknown.
Comment
Hi Lindsy!!
It’s so cool to read you blog and know what is happeneing in your life. Wow, a trip around the world? Sound awesome, I hope that some day I will be able to travel as much as you:) Take care my friend.