for a minute there, I lost myself...

The only thing constant in my life at the moment, in terms of activities, is my stall in Greenwich market. I have a stall called Philosophy Takeaway in which people come and talk to us, mainly my mate Sel and me, about philosophy. We have a hat of questions or people just ask whatever. Of course we don't have the answers, but we do try, even just to make people break their routines. I want to ignite a flame, any flame, any curiosity I can on people. I want people to realize things, by themselves, to open up, to open their minds... Philosophy is the way I found, almost a year ago. The stall was a leap of faith, when Sel and I felt that we were doing nothing of any use about anything. I feel different now, having learnt things, having my whole perception of reality being turned inside out. But the stall is still there. We talk to many types of people, all ages, all sizes, all backgrounds. It happens every Wednesday and feels like the only constant. I feared for a minute, that the incredible gap between what I think about reality and what random people may think would be too much. I feared I'll start preaching or getting frustrated at them, at myself, at everything.
It didn't happen. People, at some level, respond to your disposition. I constantly remember that we are all on the same quest.
I would like to spend my time meditating, hugging people, listening to music, painting, reading, writing and laughing... but it can't happen right now. I have to live 'life'. We can't help but live in the world. Interact. Talk. Use transport. Go places. See people.
I go to my stall and ask people if they are free, ask people if they feel as though they are being programmed, ask people if they feel controlled, fulfilled, awake even... I talked to them all. This seems like a time for communication.
I came back home today and felt as if the voices in my head, the voices of other people and my voice were an overwhelming cloud of buzzing electricity all around, ingrained in my heart even, confusing, almost heavy.
I listen, they listen. They speak, I speak. Am I saying what I mean? Am I speaking my heart at all times? Unfortunately not really... at this moment I can say that I empathize with all but understand none and end up saying words to make them happy.
Some times for the sake of this contact, this communication, words can become vacuous, pointless if the message is not what you mean... and for a minute it can feel as if you loose yourself.
azile x

ps: the chalk drawing was done by me today.