img_9020I got out of the car in slow motion, I was asleep  for more than half of the two hour trip to Rila monastery from Sofia.I was dehydrated, but it felt like I was home somehow. I get those few adults moments, mostly when I go running,when I would  feel some sort of nostalgia which abruptly brings back old childhood memories. This was one of those, getting out of a a car from a very long nap. It felt so much like home, it was painful.


I forced myself to walk and inhale the cold air, the sun was shining on my face.The mountains were breathtaking.There were tourists  looking at me as I walked under the arch that was the entrance to a monastery.I must’ve looked like I was in a daze. There it was,just like the opening scene into a disney movie, the dark archway lead into a picture of a beautiful old serene  structure of a monastery  seemingly painted in hues of black and white and red stripes against a backdrop of green and brown mountains pasted on clear blue skies.It was a work of art, my sadness has arrived home.


I walked into a tiny spring flowing with cimg_9009old water, I drank it and it cooled me and I lingered and waited whether it could wash away all my bad decisions.I got inside the chapel, lighted some candles and listened into the silence. It was only after I had finished my hearty lunch in one of those restaurants at the back of the monastery, that I heard the mountains began to talk.


They told me of days when I was younger and carefree, days when I could laugh hysterically,days when I was so sure of who I was and what I would become,days when the sun did actually shine.

There I realised what the mountains do.The mountains ring me when I tell them I’m not ok, they give me surprise hugs when I meet them on hallways.They send me messages when I tell them I would like to sleep for days.The mountains ask me to visit because I will always have a home.

The mountains are the people who actually care.In the silence,I could hear it, like the slow humming of  a ventilator.. I have been breathing through them everyday.

Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>