Perfect Moment: This is a long post but the truth is, there are no words

I am looking outside and while I am taking it all in, I realize that today was one of those days.

One of those days that make you believe in the good in people again, you start to believe in peace again. The rational fears you have – those that remind you of the wars of the world and the negative nuances of your own life - disappear and all that stays is the infinite belief in something big, something universal.

No, not a god. Nothing religious. Something basic and natural which too often drowns in all of our busy, busy lives.

I am blogging from my window sill. I have a nice, big and fluffy pillow that I sit on, my foot rests on a little wooden stool. One of the window’s wings is wide open and its old wooden structure laughs in the wind; in this warm late summer breeze that is responsible for the general happiness among all creatures.

I am looking outside and although my view is limited, I am fascinated with what I see. There are no wide open plains and although I am on the third floor, I can’t even see bits and pieces of the horizon.

But in the early evening sun the cathedral almost blinds me with its incredible, ancient beauty. I wonder how something so steady, so large, so over-towering could have possibly been built so many hundreds of years ago, yet it is obvious why it still stands.

I marvel at the light blue UNESCO World Heritage flags, gently dancing back and forth and at the bright red flowers at the old brick building across from me. It is part of the cathedral and yet, just as on my side of the aisle, people live in it. They live their lives like they always have and I can’t tell whether they still recognize the flawless beauty that is this place after so many years of being a part of it all.

I am looking outside and although around this time of the day the stream of tourists has died down and the cathedral’s courtyard appears empty, it is somehow still filled with so many stories and truths, with so much beauty and perfection, with such an uniqueness; with an attractiveness I didn’t sign on for.

I am looking outside and it is hard to take my eyes off it all. It is simply impossible to decide, okay, time for dinner or, alright then, let’s turn on the television. At the same time, it feels ridiculous to just sit and stare because that’s not what people do. It’s not productive, and I don’t have any results to show off afterwards.

I am looking outside and I see two homeless guys, they don’t look like the roughest kind but they seem somewhat desperate. They ring the doorbell at the front door across from mine. Someone answers over the intercom. Father, if you don’t mind, we need your help once again, kind sir, they say. The intercom clicks off and I wonder how, in all this beauty, homelessness can show its ugly face and I catch myself thinking that there may be tougher places in this world to be homeless.

The light blue door across from mine opens and an almost bold, rather fat guy in a white button-up and black dress pants steps out. I have seen him walking around the cathedral’s courtyard before, I suppose he’s a Father of this church. He’s officially off duty this late during the day.

He pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t make eye contact with the homeless. But he hands them each a dollar. Then he closes the door again.

I am looking outside and I can tell that the sun is beginning to set. A group of Japanese tourists walks across the courtyard, they have a video camera and zoom in on the cathedral’s highest tower. They chat excitedly. One of them seems to have done his homework, he explains to the others what exactly it is that they’re taking pictures of.

The sun is going down but it’s still at least two hours until sunset. I think to myself that I cannot possibly sit here and wait for the dark to creep in. It would be silly and really, it’ll be here tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. It’ll all still be here, much longer than I will be here myself. I feel awkward to be so in love with such a tiny part of the world, such a tiny moment in time. And I feel weird about sitting here much longer, day in and day out - every waking minute from now on?

Because as soon as the sun has set, the sweet scent of the night cradles me into its gloomy spaces. The dark blue skies and the soft lights which illuminate the cathedral, the noises of cars driving by, giggling couples stumbling through, cuttlery dancing on plates at the restaurants in the close distance; I love it all just as much.

I am looking outside and I never ever want to close my eyes again.