A new identity

Luftmensch: an impractical contemplative person having no definite business or income

I think fate found me this word. Life in the Painted Tree House is a life of creating things, of art and writing, reflection and contemplation. It’s about wondering where I will find myself when I open the door and step outside. I seeking experiences beyond the safety of the Painted Tree House without having anything definite in mind about what I might discover and what purpose my discoveries might serve other than a gathering of thoughts for contemplation.  I need to have no purpose or intent when it comes to savouring the opportunities that are presented to me.

A luftmensch is a dreamer building beautiful castles, no whole worlds in the air, seeing visions in the clouds, creating images no one else sees, for no other reason than they can do these things. They are not driven by worldly pressures; they are doing what comes naturally, allowing themselves the journey and the discovery without these things having to lead anywhere.

If I have become a dreamer, wool gatherer, a love of tales and of telling, it might appear I lack any substance, that I am light as air or thistledown. To see what no one else can, to contemplate what is seen without any compulsion to act upon the vision, to have no expectations about where this might lead, must surely be the task, the life work of a luftmensch.

Doesn’t that make the luftmensch the luckiest of folks? Leading a life full of contemplation, without the restraints of income and necessity, to see and enjoy visions, to be curious and open about the world they inhabit, to have thoughts that are fly by night, fleeting and tantalising glimpses of a world that comes unbidden.