The Garden of Death, Hugo Simberg ~ 1896

𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

An interview with linguist Lisa Frumkes of Rosetta Stone, and 8 great tips for learning a new language in the next 12 months.

I. It is three fold. First step is the loss. It comes with a mental frenzy. It is ineffable to everything in you that once made sense. Your body shatters to pieces and some of them are nowhere to be found. A desire to escape. How do you accept what is ? When what is, is so unacceptable. You look for the loophole. The point where space bends time. In your dreams, perhaps. This pull inwards that allows you to disappear for a moment. Here they are. The missing pieces. In your dreams you run. And you cry. You cry rivers. Patience. From rivers, new trees are born. —————————— II. But then, something else. One morning you wake up. Your body is still sore but you notice a possibility to rise. Layers are dissolving. Things get clearer, almost transparent. There’s a light outside. It’s formless. Empty. It’s scary. The abundance of space is scary. Stepping in the unknown is scary. Out of this quiet paralysis. The horizon, a white blur. Do you still know how to walk ? You’re willing to try, you’re willing to fall. To learn from scratch. One piece at a time. Your soul murmurs words you didn’t know you knew. Your knees are a bit weak. You don’t know where you’re going. Yet somehow, you’re on your way. —————————— III. The pain is still there. It might always be. You don’t move on, you move with. The pain has transformed as you were putting the pieces back together. It has transcended. It happened in the background. A dim space tucked away. In the time it took you, to remember who you were. You had to break to wake up. To die to be born something new. It’s not perfect. But it’s warm and bright. It’s real. And now, at last, you see. Somewhere in the dark, you found it. And it brought you home. —————————— This was inspired by Kintsugi, the Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold.

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