My thoughts, my mind, my soul.
The patient encounter.
The grace of those who know your soul.
Time is but a word. If we didn’t have war, we would’ve never needed it.
No struggle. Only ease.
Strands of magic, strands of light.
The lucky ones return to themselves.
30s, blocks, blue star, city, coffee, depression, dream, Earth, future, illusion, lens, magic, mental, mimic, perception, reality, reflection, self, self actualization, skyline, street, subconscious, time, transformation, urban, window
I look out the same window over on the other side of the street, at the same tall, 8 stories high blocks, every morning, every day, every night, for the past 11 years. Most of them have a new coat of paint, the narrow roads between them got better with time, the trees got taller… Mainly silent, mostly early to sleep. Some new roof tops appeared at some point, over the old skyline of my view. Other than that, nothing really changed, and as I was preparing my late coffee, trying to figure out how near of far the rain was going to be, since that was going to decide my entire schedule in the next couple of hours, a peculiar feeling started slowly transcending from my subconscious into my mental chatter… Something seemed different, like someone had changed the lens on my viewpoint, not sharpening it, but stripping it of something I didn’t know before. I remembered how I use to feel about these blocks… they looked like anything was possible, like every life unfolding within their walls, every destiny behind those yellowish or dark windows, could be made into a movie, or at least, a string of photo albums. I felt like I was potentially missing out millions, if not more, of magic captured moments. As time passed, that feeling slowly faded, as I was becoming more familiar with all the details… some unchanged, some new for a while, but nonetheless with the same configuration, until one day it disappeared completely, leaving room for a subdued sorrow, the type that looks like the lack of magic… something similar to the lack of a sense of future. It happened so slowly, I almost missed it. My spirit didn’t though, my bones neither. I almost believed this is how your 30s are supposed to feel like, more settled, like you now know shit, and nothing really holds any mystery anymore. And partly it’s true, there are many places which you do know better. But even the places you think you know inside and out, still hold mysteries, and their discovery is yet to come. The truth is, I still know nothing about these blocks I see every day. Nothing was ever lost, it was just a trick of the mind, that sees the same object in its place, day after day, and mimics it unconsciously, while still measuring that against the knowing that the core of life is not sameness, but transformation. The unfolding of this truth finally found its respite on the now perceived reflections of a denser structure.
And I, dancing with the unfolding of that realization, on this suspended blue star, at equal distance between what comes to be and what is a mere illusion, the dream that dies into a thousand other dreams.
May your coffee stay warm and good moments be longer.
May your lover look at you like you’re magic and seasons you love come sooner.
May you always be surrounded by wonder.
May you believe in yourself, more than your biggest supporter.
May everything that’s new and beautiful feel like home.
May 2015 bring you everything that’s written in your heart, and may it bring the friends to share it with closer!
air, arosion, attention, bio, body, boundaries, breathe, chemical-free, communication, communion, dis-ease., disease, ebergy, eco, feeling, flowers, honey, immersed, inner, internal, knowledge, love, love making, magic, nature, nurture, pain, profit, sacred, secret, sun, sun-dried, suspended, tea, the elements, transformation, trees, Universe, water, winter
Because being suspended in liquid honey is the closest I could so far describe the feeling of being absolutely in love with something or someone.
Because every time I see a real flower (not the ones produced on a massive scale, with their DNA messed up, so they stay in perfect shape for longer, but with little to no smell at all left), I think to myself: as long as flowers still blossom, there can be no question on the existence of Love.
Because anytime I feel pain, physical or spiritual, I remember that it’s nothing more than evidence of the lack of love, or scarcity of it. Even the pain inflicted by others, because that’s nothing more than a request for attention from those who do it.
Because tea is a form of liquid love which you pour inside your body, with hours and hours of good “side effects”. Tea is the story of the planet, encapsulated in the pores of leaves, that starts to unfold once again under hot water, being brought back to life, for enough time to whisper to our souls about the magic of life. And it is the echo which reverberates inside our organs and veins, getting us back to our primary rhythm. Connecting our mind, heart and root energies in a stronger bond, while washing away the traces of dis-ease and the inevitable frustration built up over time, from the walls of inner landscapes.
I’m talking about the tea made from the plants grown on chemical-free soil, hand-picked and sun-dried, you know, the right kind, that keeps the sun and the wind in them, after the water has evaporated. Not those things with 7 labels on the package to convince us that they are natural, when in fact no memory of how they’re supposed to smell or taste remains in those tea bags. Evidence of desperate attempts of men in white robes debating on how to imitate nature, and multiply something which just looks like it, for the bigger profit.
Because it’s the air that keeps us alive, and the air which eventually oxides and erodes the appearances of the body and the material into oblivion, so that the new could emerge.
All those little love makings triggered by each breath in and out feed little rivers of new life throughout my internal universe. And so I know I am being loved as long as I am the recipient of this exchange of new and old.
Because I am water. We are more like water than like any other thing. We are more like water, air, and thought, than we like to admit at this point in time. Water is synonym to magic. It heals, clears, nurtures and transforms. It can transform in anything it needs: patience, impatience, nurture or destruction. It holds the knowledge of the Earth. Life could not begin unless we were fully immersed in the sacred communion liquid first. While humans barely communicate trough words and actions, the Earth communicates through the wind, the water, us, and everything else.
7. The Sun
Because most things follow the Sun, and I feel them all a part of me. Because me and the trees miss it badly in the winter. Because few things can escape the secret agreement it has with the other things that remind me of Love, and also with every cell of my being, such as it is perceived within the boundaries made by men.
adevarat, împlinire, celula, chemare, corp, cuvant, dor, dovezi, ființă, infrangere, insemnatate, inteles, iubesti, lume, magic, magie, material, memorie, muzica, personal, placere, pulbere magica, Pământ, radacini, sens, sentiment, senzatie, strat, suflet, Univers, vene, viață, victorie, vis, viu
Câteodată, ai senzația că ceva lipsește, chiar și atunci când ai tot ce știai că-ți trebuie. E un sentiment care nu poate fi schimbat de nimeni și nimic, sau, dacă se întâmplă, nu durează prea mult. Când ajungi în punctul ăsta, e semn că trebuie să îți faci timp să reflectezi. În tine există ceva înrudit deopotrivă cu visele și dorul, ceva care cere să își facă auzită vocea. Lucrul ăsta nu se întâmplă dintr-o dată, ci este dintotdeauna acolo, și după fiecare victorie, și după fiecare înfrângere. Visul personal, oricare ar fi el, își are rădăcinile în cel mai adânc strat al ființei tale, și în același timp, îl găsești răspândit că o pulbere magică, în fiecare celulă a corpului tău. Știi asta. Ceea ce te face să te simți viu cu adevărat îți spune asta. Toate lucrurile către care ai o chemare, ce muzică asculți, pe cine iubești, lucrurile în care găsești plăcere și asupra cărora preferi să zăbovești mai mult decât asupra altora, locurile către care te îndrepți și locurile pe care le porți cu tine în suflet, sunt dovezile acestui lucru.
Dacă asculți ce are de spus, vei păși într-o lume în care cuvântul magie își va schimba însemnătatea. Sau mai bine spus, vei înțelege că magia și viața sunt făcute din același material. Fiecare zi adăugată la timpul pe care alegi să-l petreci în direcția străină visului tău îți va părea mai goală de sens și împlinire.
Tu și visul sunteți una, fiecare trăind în memoria celuilalt, mai ales atunci când unul din voi uită.
Pământul a existat odată doar ca un vis în venele Universului. Asemenea lui, visele noastre se nasc și trăiesc odată cu noi.
English version: https://soulpatterns.wordpress.com/2013/09/10/dream/