MyNotes - by Stefano MarinelliThe Universes Behind the Lights
Photo by Dario Morandotti on Unsplash
A little while ago, I took the clean laundry off the drying rack and opened the drawer. The plan was to fold everything neatly, but I handled it exactly like I did back in my university days: I just dumped everything in a heap, much to my wife’s amusement.
Shortly after, wanting to make myself useful and to quickly escape the "crime scene", I went out to take out the trash. The sky was already dark, with the first signs of frost appearing on the plants. I decided to take the long way around, breathing in that crisp, biting air of a new year.
As I walk in the evening, my eyes are drawn to the lit houses. And in every house, I find myself thinking, there is an entire universe. The universe of the people living there. Their relationships, their pleasures, and their pains. Their affections - often jealously guarded in the warmth of their own homes. Just like their secrets, their valuables, and their memories.
Where do they put their socks? I wonder if they, too, sometimes just toss them in like I did earlier. Maybe someone there is laughing, like my wife. Or maybe someone is starting to yell, as many others would. Or maybe there is silence - a silence worse than laughter or shouting. Is this a season of joy or sadness for them? What are their problems right at this moment? Are they cooking their favorite dish or some tasteless broth? Perhaps they are dreaming of going out to a restaurant tonight. Or, perhaps, they have other things on their minds. Has the new year started well, or are they still carrying the weight of the past year? And I wonder if they will still be there at the end of this year. Or if they will simply still be there, behind those lights, doing the same things they are doing right now. Focused on the same old things - or free, in mind and body, moving toward something new. Maybe folding their socks, absent-mindedly, getting ready for a new workday.
Lost in my thoughts, I run into a neighbor, who tells me about the beautiful evening he had yesterday. He had a clear, bright, happy look in his eyes. His son had come to visit, and they had spent the evening together. He shared his contagious joy with me, and I started walking back home. I looked at those houses again, thinking that they probably do fold their socks - always - maybe while thinking of something else entirely, remembering happy moments or dreaming of running away.
Then I see my own windows, the light on. And I know that behind that light is my wife, listening to her favorite music. And behind the other light is my chair, the one I am about to return to. Behind those walls is the life I have built. My universe.
I close the windows now; it is dark. I wouldn’t want someone passing by to think that I actually tossed my laundry in like that.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/01/the-universes-behind-the-lights/
#Life #MyNotes #Reflections
Photo by Dario Morandotti on Unsplash
A little while ago, I took the clean laundry off the drying rack and opened the drawer. The plan was to fold everything neatly, but I handled it exactly like I did back in my university days: I just dumped everything in a heap, much to my wife’s amusement.
Shortly after, wanting to make myself useful and to quickly escape the "crime scene", I went out to take out the trash. The sky was already dark, with the first signs of frost appearing on the plants. I decided to take the long way around, breathing in that crisp, biting air of a new year.
As I walk in the evening, my eyes are drawn to the lit houses. And in every house, I find myself thinking, there is an entire universe. The universe of the people living there. Their relationships, their pleasures, and their pains. Their affections - often jealously guarded in the warmth of their own homes. Just like their secrets, their valuables, and their memories.
Where do they put their socks? I wonder if they, too, sometimes just toss them in like I did earlier. Maybe someone there is laughing, like my wife. Or maybe someone is starting to yell, as many others would. Or maybe there is silence - a silence worse than laughter or shouting. Is this a season of joy or sadness for them? What are their problems right at this moment? Are they cooking their favorite dish or some tasteless broth? Perhaps they are dreaming of going out to a restaurant tonight. Or, perhaps, they have other things on their minds. Has the new year started well, or are they still carrying the weight of the past year? And I wonder if they will still be there at the end of this year. Or if they will simply still be there, behind those lights, doing the same things they are doing right now. Focused on the same old things - or free, in mind and body, moving toward something new. Maybe folding their socks, absent-mindedly, getting ready for a new workday.
Lost in my thoughts, I run into a neighbor, who tells me about the beautiful evening he had yesterday. He had a clear, bright, happy look in his eyes. His son had come to visit, and they had spent the evening together. He shared his contagious joy with me, and I started walking back home. I looked at those houses again, thinking that they probably do fold their socks - always - maybe while thinking of something else entirely, remembering happy moments or dreaming of running away.
Then I see my own windows, the light on. And I know that behind that light is my wife, listening to her favorite music. And behind the other light is my chair, the one I am about to return to. Behind those walls is the life I have built. My universe.
I close the windows now; it is dark. I wouldn’t want someone passing by to think that I actually tossed my laundry in like that.
https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/01/the-universes-behind-the-lights/
#Life #MyNotes #Reflections
Stefano Marinelli
Stefano Marinelli
Tgomas the Fabulous