Winter is here again, and everything is going in circles once more. The first cold snap, the agonizing endlessness of long December evenings, the night scent of the first snow, and frost. Winter has barely begun, but we already remember summer. Against the backdrop of the dark sky, tattered clouds rushed somewhere, the wind tore the swollen shroud to pieces and drove these fragments in an unknown direction.
The room was stuffy; the radiators were heating strongly, and the dry, dusty smell of lime irritated my inflamed throat. Cold wind blew through every crack in the window frame, and a lively draft was felt nearby. Dirty streaks on the glass distorted and fractured the light from street lamps outside, making the whole scene barely resemble reality, appearing more like some kind of hallucination.
There were many plans for the evening, but I still sat on the rickety stool right by the window, unable to move. Only the dull thuds of another gust of wind drew my attention, and I noticed the occasional leaves passing by the window and my gaze.
I watched… If only these leaves knew on warm May nights what awaited them in December. And each leaf will experience exactly what billions of other leaves do.
I remembered my room in the student dormitory. Right across from my window, there was a maple tree. I constantly observed its full cycle of changes. Where each leaf and each branch were unique, but they followed the same rules.
From a certain perspective, human existence has a similar meaning. We all follow a closed loop; for some, it was a hundred years ago, and for others, it will be in the future, stepping onto this loop and vanishing into oblivion. Everything is subject to change, but in essence, the moment in which self-awareness occurs does not undergo any changes. Only the processes occurring around it change. Therefore, we can conclude that any changes are relative and depend solely on the observer.
Remember the common psychological experiment with a glass filled halfway with water. The glass itself is a neutral object, but depending on the person looking at it, the object acquires positive or negative properties (exclusively for the observer). This example might seem too simple, but it helps to understand the essence.
The observer's philosophy helps to deal with any randomness in our lives. If we draw a parallel, our whole life is like a river, wide, narrow, shallow, or deep. It flows and changes. Not in one place, but entirely and simultaneously. It seems impossible to control. But if you start observing, you will realize that the river remains the same. Only the speed and temperature of the water have changed. Also, if you make an effort, you can change its course, its state, and even fill it with marine inhabitants or make it completely uninhabitable. From a state beyond our control, we smoothly transition to control.
Thus, the observer's philosophy allows you to sit, relax, and understand the problem. Not to analyze it frantically but to see and comprehend. It allows you to cultivate a mentor within yourself. This helps me in life, and it will help you too. No one else will help you. Only the observer who is still asleep.
I will not describe a business idea here. Why build a house on a swamp? It won't work. First, we need to change our worldview. I suggest starting with this for all club members. Find the state that suits you.
Nikolay A.
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