Eternal Midsummer Reveries

Major turning points in our lives are not only events but also people. Rare souls whose very core is borne of the same substance as our own. The resonance they awaken is so deeply felt that they ripple into the darkest, most hidden corners of our being - a bond forged before the mind could even consciously realise it. We begin to understand why poets have described this soul recognition as an ability to find them in any body, in any lifetime, and even in total darkness. These are loves that are neither romantic, nor platonic, nor familial - yet, somehow, they are all of them at once.

They arrive in our lives unexpectedly, like the most glorious meteorite - shattering the facade we so carefully curated to deceive ourselves. They collide with us, a force so violent in its beauty, that we are consumed by the impact and left with no choice but to confront all that we have been running from. These souls gift us with truth, for they see us entirely - naked, raw, and exposed - to the point where the lies we tell ourselves dissolve into irrelevance. In their presence, we can no longer hide. These disorienting moments shed light on the darkest parts of our being - and we remember that the measure of love is not in its length, but in its depth.

The greatest tragedy of human life is that external circumstances do not always allow for the total unfurling of these special connections. The pain is so excruciating that we question if it would have been easier never to have met. But perhaps the lesson lies in understanding that love emerges from a lack of control - that, despite our best efforts to rationalise or reason - it simply is. They allow us to comprehend why art is born of lives unlived, of realities that never came to pass, and of passions that burned too brightly to endure. We remember that pain has always been the great catalyst of true comprehension. Or perhaps their purpose was to inspire hope - not merely to fall in love with them, but to fall in love with authentic existence through them - to believe once more in the magic of all things inexplicable, in a world that so rarely radiates it. To experience the depth and range of human emotion is a gift - for isn’t it beautiful that we are capable of feeling it at all?

Perhaps these souls are why dreamscapes exist - to quietly love them, not in another lifetime or another reality - but in a place of our own making, by our own design. A world where every detail of them lingers and dances in an eternal midsummer reverie.