The vessel
I’ve always wanted to dedicate a post on running here, but if I haven’t done it properly yet is because, every time I write about it (As I did yesterday on my drafts) I feel like I end up not making up a specific point, going through a lot of feelings, thoughts and deliberations all at once.
For some reason, it is kinda paradoxical that an activity that detonates so many thoughts after, while I’m doing it I makes me think about nothing. Running allows me to reach a meditativeness state through movement that pulls thoughts away.
It’s almost like becoming an ancient greek vessel, completely empty on the inside but decorated with stories on its outer surface. Those stories are the knowledge, the focus, the pain, the effort and the commitment reached while in motion. And although I can read them, talk about them, write about them, they will always be insufficient, a vague interpretation of an experience that can only be embodied individually.
The only thing I got enough certainty to describe, is the fullness achieved through the emptiness. The oxymoron of how addition can be reached through subtraction, the celebration of how nothing is enough.
An empty vessel, where stories arise.
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Yours,