Reaching for Air

It takes only around 23 seconds. Once his hands touch the water, quickly followed by the rest of his body, it is like he has entered his element. His arms and legs appear, to the outside viewer, to be moving on its own. His head, looking down then sideways, could well be interpreted as a sign of someone struggling for air. But he is in absolute control of his body, every movement a consequence of several hours of training. Continue reading


He was calm. He was always calm. He walked and moved and talked as if time was little more than an abstract concept. Thinking about it, isn’t it, really? Granted, he was way over his seventies, but I can’t imagine he being any different as a young man. It was a pleasure to take care of him. Between all the stories you hear about the elderly harassing and hazing their caregivers, one can become concerned. But he was nothing like that. Other than supervising the safety measures when he was working, most of the time with him was enjoyable. He had a way of making himself minimal, the bare essential being, almost not there. Continue reading


He is sitting on the floor of his apartment’s office, his legs crossed over each other, his hands gently positioned at his lap. He takes deep, slow breaths, in such a cadence only listening to it would make anyone calmer. There is a sound on the background, a chanting, so low it’s barely there. After almost a month of practicing, Liam finally gets how to let his mind wander, to just accompany the flow, and experiences the mindfulness he so was so eager to achieve. Continue reading


I remember playing dodgeball with my niece in my brother’s summer house yard. She was five or six, and ran and jumped like her life would end if the ball hit her. It was there, right there. I think. It’s hard to tell for sure, thousands of kilometers above ground, at the fringe of what we can call Earth. Continue reading