~ Early morning at the hotsprings.
The sun was still hiding behind the mountains. The cold wind was whispering in my ears not to venture outside. I made myself deaf to its request, I knew the boiling waters were calling me too, the warmth and steam from the spring would wake me up and wash away the fog laying on my heart left by the night.
Ring the bell, greet and honour the Gods.
When step by step I slowly entered the pond, the demons always walking in my shadow started to vanish.
The tensed muscles relaxed and my mind settled in the clear water.
I looked up only to find the Moon watching over us, in the open winter sky.
Life could have been the same a century ago, women bathing and cleaning themselves before a hard day filled with house chores. Old things make my heart feel home. In a way, I think not much has changed. Sure, young teenagers all have smartphones in their pockets and cadbury has reached kids mouths. On the other side, women still wash clothes by hand, donkeys carry stones to the construction site and grandmas are knitting socks on the roadside, and up there, God is still the same, sending his blessings upon us.
Some things have changed, yet others remain the same.
The way has become faster and the noise louder but the essence is as intense and beautiful as it used to, when we needed no watch to rule our day.
The essence dwells in the old wooden houses, stone temples and in the woolen hats worn by men.
As soon as I came out of the trance, after visiting a past that was not mine, I lost myself again, this time staring at the mountain peaks.
Pure white snow covering the top, holding us all in her memory, like tiny particles