I Wonder What’s Next

Some people wonder what’s after death, but for me it’s different.

The snow fox. Or the snow leopard. Yes, I can see myself becoming a snow leopard. Like the one I met first in Sylvain Tesson’s magnificent book, La Panthère des Neiges, and then in The Velvet Queen, Marie Amiguet and Vincent Munier’s masterpiece released in theaters.

It would be great if you could see this film. It breathes beauty. Vincent Munier is a great photographer, his pictures are unique in the world. I already had tears in my eyes when I looked at some of his photos. Type his name on Google and look at his pictures of the white wolves, it grabs the heart.

Alone and invisible in the hostile mountains where humans dare not venture. Alone contemplating the beauty of the world under the stars, in an absolute and icy silence. The body hidden by the eternal snow and the protective rock.

The snow leopard. Just writing its name makes me want to cry. It is an animal of which one inevitably falls in love. Grace incarnate. But unfortunately, I do not believe in reincarnation. When my heart will not want to function anymore, I will surely become dust again. Sound the trumpets!

But that’s not the point here. I wonder rather what will become of me after Medium, or rather what will become of my words and those of the writers I love when the platform will no longer exist or when it will have definitively passed to the dark side. I mean, when capitalism has totally devoured it and that we will not be able to write there with our pure heart.

I know I shouldn’t think about that and just enjoy the moment and everything it brings me. But I am a hypersensitive, and hypersensitive people can’t help but think about what will happen.

When I think of all the magical encounters I’ve made and still make here every day, of all the brilliant writers who write in Scribe and elsewhere, I don’t want to see what’s next, no matter how late it may be. There’s a taste of paradise around here. Except that things always change, and I’m afraid.

I know I’m stupid, Medium’s future is not ours and we will not be able to influence what it becomes. All we can do is take advantage of what the platform offers and keep our course. And that’s what I strive to do.

I think that in the worst case, I will find myself writing in my own space again, in silence and total indifference. Still hoping that the writers I love will do the same and give me the address of their garden where their words are found. Just because I couldn’t grow old without them.

Or I will be like the snow leopard that walks silently on top of the snowy mountains, with no one to reach it but the wind, the moon, and the stars.