things that don't make sense

small thoughts on a trip to the sea, a forest, and what to do with mystery

I took a trip down to the south of Portugal at the very beginning of the year. I could share many details about this trip, but the thing I’m thinking about most was Portugal’s quietness, the kind you cannot really find in the city.

This quietness took me by a riverbank, then a lighthouse. Over a small dune, and around a beach cafe. It took me by morning waves and afternoon waves, by a pastry shop, and a boardwalk. It took me to a meadow of wildflowers, and finally, a soft path on a cliff. 

I walked on this path, with my eyes set on the Atlantic. I had been wanting space to think, and here it was: a navy blue line stretched beside me- kissing the sand, the sky, my thoughts that I had dragged all the way down from the city. I felt my thoughts float alongside me, like small balloons that did not need a thread to follow.

I walked, finding strength from the quietness. Soon, the path invited me turn left into a small forest, away from the sea. I accepted.

I stepped into a wide and expansive cave of plants and a soft winter sunlight, between the shadows of long trunks laden with sea moss and the hazy rays that looped around them. I felt my thoughts drop to the humid ground. I could still hear The Atlantic behind me.

I could see most of the forest from where I stood: different shades of emerald green, a few patches of sun and a distant tent finding refuge under a pine tree. It was even more quiet here, and I snapped a picture when something caught my eye: small cacti sat under the first stomp of the tree in front of me. They were embracing each other, tilting towards the spots of sun that peaked between the roof of branches.

At first, I thought it was just one bunch of cacti crowded together. But as I continued on the path towards the center of the forest, I quickly found myself surrounded by hundreds of cacti of different sizes. Some were tilted towards the ground, while others stretched sideways. Some were baby sized, others were as tall as I am. Some carried small flowers, while others were almost completely drowned by thistles. 

My thoughts turned still by these silent plants, the quietness that surrounded me, the path carved by the cliff, the distant waves that seemed to cradle me from where I stood.

I settled into the moment. There’s something about strangeness that can be beautiful, and while I’m sure I could find an explanation for this weird forest, the mystery of it has kept me here: thinking about all the things that don’t make sense. 

Some of those realities are light, some are heavy. 

Some have to do with my life and my decisions, and others have to do with those around me. 

Some are natural accidents, some are consequences of human intent. 

I think of areas of my life that seem a little strange or inexplicable, maybe moves I’ve made that turned out differently, or expected results that I didn’t get. Losses, heartbreak. Surprises, shocks. I think of questions that are still unanswered. Whatever those things are, they can weigh on us if we don’t tend to them. I guess it’s a good thing to have a word like mystery to answer all the things we cannot. 

Mystery makes me uncomfortable, because I prefer organized and clear thoughts.

But mystery has a purpose. 

mystery allows me to accept / who am I and where have I been?

mystery pushes me to think / what is true and what is not?

mystery keeps me longing / is there a better reality? 

mystery keeps me brave / am I walking with eyes open?

mystery keeps me dreaming / is there more for me to create?

mystery keeps me moving / is there more here to discover? 

mystery keeps me hopeful / am I looking for beauty? 

.

I don’t know how to deal with mystery, but maybe that’s the point…

Sometimes life leads us to places that simply are -

beautiful or strange,

like a sea-side forest of cacti.