This could be para... para... paradise.

This could be para... para... paradise.

Just a year ago this song by Coldplay could have been the story of my life.

As a young girl's dreams are shattered against the wall of reality...

At this moment I'm walking past Westminster, listening to this song and typing this note on my iPhone with my half paralyzed, frozen fingers - hardly aiming at the right keys.

I see the reflection of myself in the mirror that the rain has left on the sidewalk. The raindrops are dancing on my iPhone screen and sparkling like little rainbows.

When I look up I see birds flying over the river Thames, in Search of some breakfast.

I haven't eaten. I haven't slept. I don't care.

Because a sudden realization has hit me: This could in fact be a paradise.

It's grey, its rainy, it's windy and cold - it definitely does not look like a stereotypical paradise.

But I don't have to close my eyes to dream of it. I don't even sleep at night. I am living my dream. The most beautiful dream.

No I'm not high.

I type what I see and whatever is popping into my head as I walk and listen to Coldplay...

I go past the genitor, who is picking up the wet leaves, past a sleepy builder having his early morning cigarette, past a car park ticket collector, who probably wishes he was not the one to be hated by all the ones that he has to fine. I see a homeless man. And people rushing to their jobs struggling with the wind tearing their boring black umbrellas out of their red cold hands.

And me? I am going to do what I love. And no amount of grey, no amount of freezing wind, no amount of rain can make me believe that this is not a paradise. Because it is.

Paradise is when you can follow your heart. Not where the sky is blue, not where the sun rays warm your face and mojitos cool your vains...

Maybe this grey, wet, cold place could be the actual paradise Coldplay sings about.

"When she was just a girl, she expected the World...

She dreamed of para para paradise, every time she closed her eyes. "

Until one day she opened them and realized. Paradise is here. Now.

This entire note is written on the go, pictures taken also. I'm still listening to this song. Hopefully it makes sense. To someone. If only just a little.

Don't hope. Decide.

Let me say from the start, that I did not write this story. I just thought it's worth reading. 

This story, dear children, is about love.
This story, can be applied to any other aspect of your life.
Could be a career, could be love, could be anything at all.
Stop existing and start living. 
Take charge of your life.
And.

Enjoy.

 "While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other people talk about — the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly. This one occurred a mere two feet away from me.

Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.

First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other’s face, I heard the father say, “It’s so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!” His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly, “Me, too, Dad!”

Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son’s face in his hands said, “You’re already quite the young man. I love you very much, Zach!” They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother’s arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said, “Hi, baby girl!” as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, “I’ve saved the best for last!” and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed. “I love you so much!” They stared at each other’s eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands.

For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn’t possibly be. I puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm’s length away from me. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, “Wow! How long have you two been married?

“Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those.” he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife’s face. “Well then, how long have you been away?” I asked. The man finally turned and looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile. “Two whole days!”

Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, I had assumed he’d been gone for at least several weeks – if not months. I know my expression betrayed me.

I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend), “I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!”

The man suddenly stopped smiling.

He looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person. He told me, “Don’t hope, friend… decide!” Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, “God bless!”"

- By Michael D. Hargrove and Bottom Line Underwriters, Inc.
Copyright 1997