On a warm summer evening last year, I was riding my scooter on the picturesque island of Antiparos in Greece when I stumbled upon an elderly man sitting on a plastic chair, gazing at the ocean. The sunset was casting a sharp light, and the mid-afternoon heat had left me feeling a bit muddled. I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between the man’s worn plastic chair and the expensive wooden sunbeds that littered the island.
There are people that live in their mind, and people that live in their heart.
Linda Grayson
Despite his humble seating, the man seemed content and at peace with himself, simply enjoying the warm sun on his face without any other desires or needs. In that moment, I felt a sudden urge to bring some of his tranquility, serenity, and inner happiness into my own life by taking him with me.
However, I chose not to take a picture of him, as I believed it would have been like stealing the essence of that moment. Instead, I stood there, soaking in the beauty of the surroundings the old man’s contentment and the magic of the light.
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.