прыгажосць ⁽¹⁰⁾

The heat is unbearable.

Only at night does it somewhat relent. I woke up around five, checked on the children. Decided to go sleep in the hammock, while the air is still fresh. Wrapped myself in a blanket and went outside. From the porch, I saw the edge of the blazing dawn. From that moment, I no longer belonged to myself. Determinism. I got dressed quickly, which is always hard when Dasha is sleeping in the room with the wardrobe, and I can't find my socks.

I run in my slippers. About three kilometers to the vantage point in the forest. I keep worrying that the red hue will disappear and I won't catch its full glory. Where does this come from in me? Why did I decide that it's beautiful? Year after year, I recall my impressions.

When Dasha and I went to the sea, we often encountered them, especially in recent years. It was a rule to make breakfast in the twilight and then drive, rush to the loungers, waiting for the sun to rise. And we always hurried, because we were always a bit late.

And even before that, many years earlier. I went mushrooming with my parents. How all this early waking, the joint gathering, the departure to a deserted place. Everything pierced with silence and freshness. Once they decided not to take me because I was sound asleep. I still can't forget that sad incident.

And even earlier than that. In the summer, with my grandmother, I stayed overnight at my great-grandmother's house. And then I was woken up. We went out to the porch. We did something resembling morning gymnastics. And watched the rising sun. I was told that it was very beneficial, but only early in the morning (I didn't know about cortisol back then).

Maybe when I was born, like a little lion king, I was brought out at dawn to greet life?

Who knows when the story of this love began, and which strings of my soul the morning sun touches...

The boundaries of humanity? What is humanity?

To give a person the right to be, to be as they are. To accept a person as they are.

Through all the prickliness, complexity, prejudice, agony, anger, difference, foolishness - to see in them a person who does not want to be rejected, does not want to be alone.

For this, many perform the prescribed social mission. Puts a lot of effort. To have the Right to Be. To be accepted. And every person on the one hand requires this acceptance, on the other can give it to other people.

And here we get a closed loop: Desiring acceptance, a person makes a lot of effort. And this process becomes a law for him. He and other people begin to accept, only when they make efforts and successes.

However, this circle can be broken. Start accepting people unconditionally. Even when they do not match our expectations. Accepting one, then another... We will feel that unspeakable joy for ourselves. And we can be accepted, just because we are us. This will be our support, our depth. The foundation on which true scenes of creativity and activity can be built.

The weather outside is good. On such a day, it's a great idea to have a spontaneous picnic. Kids love it when I interrupt their numerous games and activities with interesting and fun suggestions. A picnic is one of their favorite things. Sometimes, it's too much hassle to gather everyone inside to eat. Instead, I collect dishes, food, cups, forks, water, and balance it all to carry it out at once.

Calling kids for a picnic feels different than just calling them to eat. They instantly appear. And the best reward is the words: “Dad, can we do this again?” Exclamations like: "What a wonderful day! Everything is so good!"

Before the picnic, I had to turn on the outdoor tap for handwashing. It's usually off to ensure endless water play doesn’t stress the parents out. But after the picnic ended, the tap was still on. Buckets were ready. Ksyusha was running around and watering the flowers, with love and care. And then she moved on to the spruces, which require so much, so much water!!!

Lyuba fills a bucket, pours it under her feet, and jumps in it like Peppa Pig, singing: "Muddy Puddle! Muddy Puddle!"

Kayaking is a wonderful thing. And the more wonderful it becomes, the quieter you go. Every paddle stroke on the water disrupts the beauty of silence and brings us closer to the end of kayaking. Similarly in life, we paddle to approach the end, rather than to live. On the other hand, when stuck in a dead-end, one needs to paddle hard to get out and move forward.

My dream: early morning kayaking in dense fog. Complete silence.

Here they are, growing out of one pot. Brothers and sisters to each other. Beautiful and slightly different. Leaning away from each other a bit. Someone said - towards the sun. But not just towards the sun. They need space for themselves. They need some safe distance and uniqueness. Just like people. It's their right. And it doesn't diminish love. It's like looking at paintings; you don't get much if you press your nose against them. The same goes for relationships; there needs to be some space. To breathe deeply. To see more around you. And here they are together: Curved and straight, opened and not, closer and farther from the sun. Giving warmth and joy to us. Simply because they exist. I hope that we also bring joy to God just by our existence. This is our primary achievement and our main value. We exist!

I hadn't taken a walk in a long time. I had become stagnant. My spirit had grown moldy from the daily routine. And then the Sun, along with the Mist, awakened me to life again. This was a few weeks ago, the day before Christmas on December 25th. My car was all iced up, so I couldn't drive to the starting point of my usual path. I just trudged straight towards it. At some point, I no longer wanted to head to my usual path; I just wanted to walk towards the sun. And so, I walked, taking new routes, discovering new landscapes. God gifted me the sight of a miraculous display of beauty once again. Powerful rays of light passed through my body, warming my heart, giving it hope and joy. I was deeply moved. And I remember that moment with gratitude now.

Advice: Even when you're walking towards the sun, don't get stuck in the mud. You can use your brain and slightly bypass the danger and dirt.

Right after the Christmas holidays, we had a chance to travel to Kyiv for some business. It was a great pleasure to photograph Kyiv at night. A lot has changed over this year, but the light will return to where it was.

"Mom! Is dad leaving us forever?"
Ksenia said from her bed when she saw me putting on my jacket and preparing to leave in the middle of the night.

At that moment, I didn't know that soon I would be flying over the lights of the night city, thinking about its beauty.

When you fly, you see countless lights from the windows of those who remain on the ground. You pull away from them, and yet you return to them. You feel the beauty of the flight, dream of flying far, observing, feeling, loving, and praying during scary moments. It's especially good to pray during take-off and landing. Planes fly very fast, sometimes there's not enough time to truly appreciate the beauty, to really feel like a bird.

Today, as well, while flying over all those left on the ground, with empty thoughts, and only a feeling that it's very beautiful, I wandered over the nighttime tombstones. Even the children, seeing the first pictures, asked, "What is this colorful city?" And then, upon closer examination, they understood.

Note: Translating poetic or figurative language can be challenging, as it often involves capturing the essence and mood of the original text, which may not always correspond directly to literal translations. 

І відэа:

A lot has happened in recent days, but I want to share like droplets of water.

Video:

Fog, dense fog. When there's fog outside, I'm not at home in the morning. It's not really morning anymore, but I'm still strolling around the lake. I observe the fog, the sun, the trees, and their reflections from different angles.

I thought to write something, but mere reflections, without intense emotions or revelations, seem trivial and untouched. Because of this, I feel somewhat lost; I wanted to write, but I have nothing to say.

I would not have written this text if not for one event. Something very joyful and human touched me.

It turns out, I'm not the only one wandering around the lake, photographing how the sun breaks through the fog. How it reflects off the water. A tall man, he chooses angles and perspectives. He crouches down, slightly changes his position, chooses the moment for a shot.

I slightly hesitate about what exactly attracted me in his actions, but I'm out of arrows to shoot (words to describe).

He does all this, photographing against a beautiful backdrop of a glass of brandy.

I think his pictures will be more colorful because the sun will not only pass through the fog and reflect off the water but will also be altered by the glass and the liquid between the glass. As I write this, I regret not getting to know him. Maybe he would've allowed me to take a few shots too.

That's the power of beauty, its pervasive light that shines on every person. It stops everyone in their tracks for a moment to feel life differently. I hope that the one who is late for an important meeting today will find such a moment for beauty.

The little train from Ramonkava, to help us all.

P.S. A couple of sneaky photos of this man.