We were sitting on the roof in the early morning. Sipping a cup of tea and taking in the beautiful landscape that unfolded itself before us as the sun rose to the sky. Complete silence. Gently waking up. Taking it all in.
We look out towards the horizon.
He suddenly sees something out there. He gets up. He cannot see what it is, but the sun reflects in it and makes it shine. Our little bubble bursts. The silence is broken. His curiosity is awaken. He is alert.
He wants to go there. He wants to find the shiny object in the horizon. He wants to find out what it is. Find out what lies behind the horizon. Suddenly our little sunlit spot on the rooftop holds no interest to him. He cannot let go of his thoughts of the horizon. It shines, it must be better than here.
I don’t want to go, and he doesn’t want me to. Whatever is out there, it is meant for him alone. And I don’t understand. I don’t understand how the shiny horizon can be more beautiful to him than the sunshine on the rooftop. To me – there was nothing more beautiful than the morning light. But he thinks so, and so he has to go. I will not keep him from the light he sees. Even if I don’t understand.
I kiss him goodbye and I tell him to go find the shiny unknown behind the horizon. To find it and find out if it really is as beautiful as he thinks.
I tell him:
Find out if it is better than the morning light on the rooftop.
If it is, then come back and tell me about it.
Tell me of the beauty and maybe I will come too.
If it is not, then come back,
and I will be waiting for you on the rooftop with a cup of tea.