I’m sitting in the kitchen, in a silence broken only now and then by the sound of a passing car. Complete peace. Today I’m not going to work, not chasing unfinished things. Today is here for me — for rest.
I sip my coffee and watch through the window as the weather has changed and turned to autumn. Thick fog covers almost everything; the Alps have disappeared, resting in the clouds. I can see only the lake. A few ducks on its surface, together, drifting back and forth.
My eyes fall on the familiar tree. A gentle breeze, a leaf falling now and then. A memory comes back — evenings when I walked home from music lessons, watching the leaves fall, feeling that soft, cool wind that taught me so much about life. It showed me the cycle of life and how beautiful it is to accept and enjoy every one of its phases.
That feeling of being connected with something so strong filled me then. I loved that calm — and I still do.
But today my world is different — often fast, filled with the goals of other people. Moments like these are rare. Moments when I can be alone with myself, feel the peace, breathe it in deeply, and sense my soul more than my body.