Moving On

This is how it begins.
No matter where you’re born, even if it’s a forest, you slowly get used to it. It raises you and nourishes you. It comforts you and renders you whole. Slowly, you start getting used to it. You know each corner, each bush, each thicket, each giant tree, each plant, each animal.

You get accustomed to it. You become fond of it.

The forest is your home, a familiar territory. A place you can always come back to, and feel safe. Your piece of solace, your very own bit of it.

However, slowly and slowly, by and by, you get tired. That forest stops helping you find your piece of mind. It stops comforting you. You stop feeling safe. You feel trapped.
The opposite of deja vu is jamais vu, a situation where familiar people or situations stop being intimate and feel strange and alien altogether.

Suddenly, you see a butterfly, coruscant and stepping out of its chrysalis, fluttering its bright wings and you’re immediately hooked. The insect gets out of the cocoon and starts moving away from the forest.

Then you realize what needs to be done. You chase the butterfly, running breathlessly, never losing sight of it. The moment you reach the edge of the forest, you know what is to follow. You look back at the forest one last time and smile. Smile, because that is all you can do about it. Then you chase the fluttering ‘angel’ because you want to know where it goes or maybe, because you want to go with it.

This is how it begins –the act of moving forward. The act of moving on.