To you, my dear friend
< Back
Woiler, March 17, 2023
Dearest,
In your last letter, you wrote that our mission would be to blow on the embers to maintain a glimmer in the darkness, and we would be like small fragments of light. A light for those we love, a presence, sometimes a pole star. Perhaps I could witness this: in the last few days I've risen up, challenged by those I love and who needed my fire that I had let go out. I rekindled it, it was not easy.
Without a doubt, when one sinks like I did, there is nothing more healing for oneself than to hear the distressed call for help from loved ones. The pain of the other makes me forget mine, it passes in the background. After a while, the eyes meet, smiles light up the faces. Look, there is this light that emerges from the shadows like two infinitely graceful dancers on a devastated stage.
I was surprised to find in the work of contemporary cosmologists a hypothesis that I had intuited for some years: our mission in the universe would be to testify to its existence, to contemplate the stars in the vault of the sky, those billions of fragments of light beyond our thin layer of air stuck to the earth like a baby against its mum's breast.
My dear friend, tell me how you are, where you are, where you want to live.
With love,