Exploring the Surreal Austrian Alps

I travel through the Austrian alps watching the fog ravage the mountains and the mountains devour the fog. Dewdrops pirouette on the tips of pine needles refracting shards of diamonds into the horizon. The flimsy sunrays hang in the air like silken threads, condemned in the hands of an unseen puppeteer beyond the forests. With every upward hairpin curve, I see the mountains yield to the fog in a battle they were never meant to win.

It feels almost blasphemous to keep looking, as if I’m trespassing on an age old painting, tracking dirt in with every foot step. I have no right to be here but I also greedily believe this world was created for me to pig on. I have nothing to offer in return except awe. Powerless, I let the cosmic vertigo consume me completely.

Timeless Roma

Next thing I know I’m sitting in the back of a taxi hurtling from Vatican to Rome. The driver turns back to us and says, “Nothing like this will ever be built again.” My heart drops into a fathomless pit of open wounds. He’s right. But why do I grieve the dread of loss of something that never belonged to me in the first place? Why am I carrying the weight of my ancestors when I arguably have the world’s best skyline back home in New York City?

I blink, and find myself following our tour guide across the Palace of the King of Rome. She says (as I recall) every year we build about four inches above the ground. Then a millennia passes by and the roots escape us. So we bring in the trucks to dig and uncover the mystery of history all over again. How long have we been building, digging, and solving the same puzzle? How long have we been stuck in this purgatory of endless consumption?

A Swiss Oasis

We make our way to Switzerland, and the calmness of the stark blue waters of Lake Lucerne juxtaposed with the hullabaloo of our party boat has me bewitched like a siren’s song. The reflections of clouds swim in water like carefree birds. There is no devouring here, just ripples that add to the illusion of the floating clouds. The sky overlooking the lake is like a mammoth lamp illuminating the water by day, and pouring shimmer into it by night. I realize that I will always gravitate towards water. Perhaps that’s why I’ve always preferred beaches over mountains.

Venetian Sunsets

Before I know it, I’m in a gondola in Venice, surrounded by the chitter chatter of friends; our flesh a feast for water gnats, our smiles never wavering, and our eyes working overtime to commit this sunset into a core memory for the rest of our lives. We have no care in the world at this moment. I’m beginning to understand that everything that we’ve ever known has always existed simultaneously and forever. History lies several feet beneath the earth, the present on the surface, and the future hangs in the vapor above.

I look at all these familiar faces around me. Behind every smile sits a secret ache, and behind every pain, the remnants of boundless joy. There will always be a longing even when our hearts are full; a memory behind every new one in the making, a warm touch behind a lingering hand, a haunting shadow behind a new image, and a familiar flavor behind every new taste. No matter where we are in cyclic world, we seek the equilibrium of familiar comforts – whether it be people, places or things. We will always cradle nostalgia. I see strangers turn into friends and lovers, and lovers turn into strangers, and I wonder if we’re all just seeking harmony while living different timelines of the same plot; entangled and enmeshed in this melting pot where time has evaporated and transcended us.

The Urban Pull

A surreal feeling weighs down on my eyelids. I wake in and out of past, present, and the future; everything exists, yet nothing does. A memory jar tips over, and I recall a winter evening of 2021, when I had hiked the foothills of Sierra Vista in California. After reaching the top, I had found myself choking in a thick tar of fog. What was the point of this? I was cold, hungry, and about to leave when the city lights suddenly flickered on beneath me. In a strange paradigm shift, the world seemed to have turned upside down. Instead of feeling insignificant against nature, I felt nature is because I am. I relish this little tryst before I head back down.

The Next Chapter Awaits

I snap back to the present – our melting pot is brimming and about to spill. The next morning, we pour ourselves into different vessels. Some I recognize, others I don’t, but I welcome them all. I’ve got a flight to catch in Paris, and a big presentation in a couple hours. Time to turn off these feelers and get mechanical, but that’s easier said than done. My stomach is in knots, and I want to throw up. So I vomit words instead to get me through this day.

I’ve barely scratched the surface of these places and people, yet I’m taking away slices of lives and slivers of cities that will always remain entombed in this moment, frozen in space and time. I’ll never forget some backstories and never know the epilogue of others. A few will remember me in passing. Most won’t remember me at all.

But for me, each of these experiences has become an integral part of my journey, woven into a unique tapestry of self-discovery. As I leave west Europe behind, I’m filled with anticipation of adventures that await, knowing that every step forward is another thread in the story I’m weaving – one that’s far from finished.

Aug 26, 2024 (Late post)