Adieu tristesse, Bonjour tristesse. Tu es inscrite dans les lignes du plafond. Tu es inscrite dans les yeux que j’aime Tu n’es pas tout à fait la misère, Car les lèvres les plus pauvres te dénoncent Par un sourire.
Bonjour tristesse. Amour des corps aimables. Puissance de l’amour Dont l’amabilité surgit Comme un monstre sans corps. Tête désappointée. Tristesse, beau visage.
“I
do believe in an everyday sort of magic -- the inexplicable
connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art
and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the
whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we're alone.” Charles de Lint
I was in the office one day and suddenly it was like I was hearing all these voices. Some were just separate words, some were sentences, some were laughs, some were tears... were did they come from? Well, from all over the Earth. It was like I could hear what everyone was saying and feel what everyone was feeling. All these different emotions, some very painful, some ecstatic, words of rage, words of wisdom, words of comfort... and many many more.
I felt that I should take a piece of paper and a pencil to write everything down. At some point I got the impression that all these words and feelings - well, actually the feelings people were experiencing transferred into words - were making circles around the Earth. Going from and eventually coming back to their owners. But only after they had touched everyone else's souls. And they were what we were all feeling, more or less. The same emotions, just different situations.
And in that moment, I felt so connected with everyone. It was like seeing the person who felt something, said a word, a sentence and then in the next second I would pass to the next person. It was amazing experiencing this because that was probably the first time I felt such a deep connection with everyone.
I love the Internet! I really do! Besides the huge amount of information you can find in this virtual - actually non existent space, and at the same time existent space - life happens. People you meet in this space just through a click, friends you may have lost touch with appear out of nowhere, colleagues and so on. And from time to time, you happen to stumble upon someone who is on the same wavelenght as you as no one else is. It's like they read your thoughts, they're inside your mind, they're inside your soul.
I think about them as very sensitive beings, people who perceive the subtle world, the reality of what is. So far, it's happened to me twice. I find it incredible and a little scary at the same time. Reading my thoughts and feelings on that person's blog or post, hearing them out loud. And then I stop and think: ahhhh, but aren't we made of the same energy? Isn't what I'm feeling now the same - more or less - as what some other person felt or will feel? I can't explain it very well - what it is I'm feeling in regard to this because it is such a powerful emotion, I can not express it in words.
Sometimes, I feel so in tune with what someone is saying or writes that I would start to cry. Just like that. Their words may remind me of something, of lives past, of feelings I once had, situations I have been in, a past love... And every time, I am overwhelmed by this sense of wonder. And I just want to ask: how did you know? how did you know what I was feeling, that's exactly what I wanted to say but I couldn't put into words.
Connections - I think it's all about being connected. With yourself, with others, with the Universe. I feel I got a little lost on the way, but coming back on track, a little more every day.
And in this huge network, I am waiting... and so are you. And I'm sure we'll meet someday. And I'm sure my tears will fall then too, tears of happiness, for I have found you... again. And in that moment, I will be complete. We are all mirrors for each other. Finding you - finding me - I will find myself. You are me and I am you. There is no separation. Only the space it takes to make that one step that will finally bring us face to face. That space between the acts of this play we have been acting for so many years... millennia. For we are old, you and I. The time we have been apart - just the space it takes to pass from one life to another...
On a field... somewhere... only desolation can be found. It looks like a deserted piece of the Earth that floats, with no apparent aim. The terrible heat of the sun makes it worse - burning the land, burning the crops, burning the grass - no rain in sight! When did it last rain? People don't remember. Lucky cow still found grass to chew, making its way through the thorns. You could hear the earth crying, screaming, as if in pain, but not only from the heat - there is garbage everywhere. The crops have been invaded and through the waste, food still grows. Food that people still pick to eat. Has garbage become the best fertilizer?
No apparent hope for the crops as people just stand and watch them fade due to the heat wave. A heat wave that is hard to bear, even for humans. Measures taken? None! Irrigation? Ha? What is that? I don't care, I'll just wait for the rain. And if it doesn't come, well, that's too bad then, but at least I'll still have someting to complain about. Because, you see, if I can't complain and paint myself as the victim I don't feel well. Measures? What measures? Get out of here! There is nothing I can do. Have I tried to do something? Of course, not - there is nothing I can do, I tell you. It's too tiring to even try.
Will we ever change? Will we even once try to change something? Try to save something - these lands, ourselves... trying to grab the future without living the present. Rows and rows of dried crops, of dried people, of dried souls. How did we come to this? This indolence for everything!? I feel like screaming: wake up! We're still alive! Live! Love! Feel!But all I get is an echo...
Among the burned sunflowers, there is still a survivor. A promise of good things to come, of never giving up. The battle with ourselves. That, I think, is the hardest.
And yet we all yearn to be free, to be who we want to be, not who others think we should be. So many give opinions on how they think we should live our lives, but they don't know who we truly are and they haven't and never will live our life for us, so what do they really know? In their fear of really starting to live, they try to enclose us with rules and restrictions.
'And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.'
Nietzsche
And so, alone we stand in our search.
But stand alone we must. For only after finding our true selves can we completely open up to others and offer our love, understanding, friendship, touch... our true entity.
And I think kindness can change the world.
'I shall not pass this way but once; any good, therefore that I can do or any kindness that I can show to any human being let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.'
And so, I find that the pieces of my faded heart which I had thought had stopped beating, is actually whole again. The only restrictions, limitations that I still face are of my own making, I understand that now. And I imagine a world in which everyone just stops for a moment and takes this time to listen... to themselves, to their true nature, discovering that they are free!
No longer caught in the web of fear, of deceit, of running away from everything and anyone that could make them feel! And so, I continue my journey. Each day, each moment, I discover new things about myself, about others, I sometimes feel like crying and screaming from the pain I feel coming from me - evolution kind of hurts sometimes - from others, from the earth. But then I smile and think of how wonderful it is to be feeling so many things! And I am happy that I have people around me to share my moments with!
A promise and a hope of a better tomorrow! A hope of love and understanding and helping each other. And with this tought, I conclude my journey of today and I truly hope we will be able to find this wonderful, caring, playful, smart dog a home! She is about two years old and in need of love!
Fiindcă nu ştiam
ce să fac, mi se pare că scriam în noaptea aceea, în pat, privindu-mi, din când
în când, umbra pe perete, sau ascultam tăcerea nopţii care nu trebuie să fie
ascultată…Se părea că exist, şi chiar mă speriam că exist.
Se ştie aceasta din cărţile adânci,
sau nebuneşti, unde se vorbeşte foarte mult despre om, ca ceva foarte periculos
sau foarte măreţ, care a greşit de la început şi greşeşte mereu, de nu se mai
înţelege nimic.
Tot oamenii au spus că sunt prea mulţi
oameni, şi de aceea, mă gândeam la câmpiile depărtate, şi la izolare…
Dacă în noaptea aceea mai treceau
drumeţi întârziaţi vorbind tare lucruri prea cunoscute, dar cu importanţa lor,
am înţeles că e mai bine să stau fără a cugeta nici ziua, nici noaptea. Se
poate, însă, spune ceea ce ar putea spune şi alţii…
Supraalimetaţia sau alimentaţia sunt
recomandate pentru a se evita fuga pământului şi ameţeala produsă de astre.
…Ea, care nu era prinsă de aceste
întrebări, deşi era palidă şi ca bătută de vânt, voia în noaptea caldă să-şi
liniştească o legănare amoroasă, pe banca ascunsă în fundul grădinii ce se
termina fără îngrădire, într-o margine a pământului.
Privighetoarea cânta pe când am
intrat s-o aştept pe banca aceea şi, luna repeta lumină şi întuneric prin
nouri. Erau şi foşniri, şi dacă era şi trist, fiecare ştie şi nu se poate reda.
Ea sosi târziu…pe când aproape
uitasem pentru ce am venit…Aşteptam răsăritul soarelui, sau mă deprinsesem să
fiu singur…Ea spunea că totul e potrivit de frumos şi că privighetoarea va
înceta pentru a se auzi curând ciocârlia; aburii se vor ridica de pe ape şi
zorii vor fi dureroşi prentu cei care au uitat să vorbească…Întâlnirile de
noapte sunt prea instructive…şi povestiri enervante.
Va trebui, altă dată, s-o aştept
ziua, prin grădini publice…Da, e interesant să scriu ceea ce spunea ea şi ea
dispăru printre copacii deşi, iar eu – pe drumurile pustii…Curba pământului
fuge…Astrele sunt ameţitoare…A te destăinui, însă, prea mult, e înstristător…
