And So Will I Wonder…?

 

I lived, but then in living I was feeble in life and
always knew that they would bury me here in the end,
that year piles upon year, clod on clod, stone on stone,
that the body swells and in the cool, maggot-
infested darkness, the naked bone will shiver.
That above, scuttling time is rummaging through my poems
and that I will sink deeper into the ground.
All this I knew. But tell me, the work–did that live on?

by Miklos Radnoti (Hungarian Poet)

source

 

 

Freedom

“How you treat me is your karma, how I react is mine.”

Freedom means uncovering that has always been there. When we are not free we seem to have a belief that we are not in control of our own destinies. However, it is not the truth we are all free to choose our destinies as well as acting upon a sense of freedom or imprisonment.

My imprisonment is about safety. No matter how horrible it may be, I still in some inexplicable way feel safe behind the bars of my self-imposed cell. It feel almost unbearable and no matter how much I hate it, I seem to recreate it.

My imprisonment is a belief that I must bare other people’s cruelty, abuse (mostly verbal) and neglect while I cannot express my needs or feelings because they will not be accepted and/or understood and/or others will make me feel wrong and stupid upon hearing them. They may even laugh at me if they hear what I need if they pay attention at all. I feel like a sacrificial lamb each time I realize that I recreated my prison with my special prisoner or prisoners who act their part impeccably. Obviously, it looks as if I was imposed by a bad-bad and cruel person.

My prisoners are people who usually have a lot of issues with themselves, they have their own inner Nazi punishing them around and making them feel ashamed and guilty all the time. So, in some way, they all in a state of constant self-defense, they are not at all open to hear the other person, what he/she has to say, because they constantly run their own self-inflicted punishment story in their heads what they experience as coming from the other person. So, they do not hear what they other says but what they think the other says which is always about them having done something wrong, so they have to present a proper self-defence story – of which they are thinking about while the other is talking – which prevents them from hearing the other person on the first place. They stay in a parallel universe where the other person is completely closed off and being ignored.

What is the benefit of my imprisonment?

There is nothing I actually need to do. As long as I believe that no matter what I would do or say, people would not respond positively and/or listen to me, I can avoid feeling vulnerable and putting myself out to be hurt. Besides, I have not idea how to say what I need or feel. I can only scream or shout, what I learnt, anyway. I can run away eventually being convinced that that person, again, did not love me or cared about me and the best I could do was getting out of there. Finally, this is the way how I convince myself to be alone – the safest place to be.

How about more responsibility for my freedom? How about not allowing more abuse by expressing me no matter what, letting tears run if needs be, learning to say what is true for me in a way that makes me attract people who can hear me out? How about that?

prison

Uncomfortable

I somehow make her feel uncomfortable. I feel uncomfortable.

No matter how hard I try to look normal, she feels something odd that she cannot put her finger on – so to make sense of her ‘fear’ she checks me out from all angles. She even asks for my passport once again to scan it in, in case of emergency – I suppose.

She cannot name her sense of discomfort when it comes to me she just feels a strange kind of disease when around me. Does she sense my own feeling of disease? Probably, the more I try and seem regular – so to ease her discomfort – the more uncomfortable she feels.

I should just trust more that what is for me will not pass me and what does that must go.  Since taking care of her only son is my only source of income, I try and play the game, I try walk with her, whatever she needs to feel at ease I try and provide. In vain. It is me who is not at ease with this whole situation.

My only hope is that the boy will like me and will want to spend some time with me. That would probably support her to trust me, at least to a certain degree. Not being able to fit her usual frame of mind regarding people makes her suspicious. I understand. I would be too if it was about my only child.

I wish to be more at ease myself. I don’t trust myself that I can do the normal things, that I can meet her expectations. I know I am responsible and can take care of him, but I am not sure that the things I would do – and would drag him along with me – are the kinds of things that she finds normal. I must find the way to trust that what happens is all OK – for us all.

It may just work out for us all. We may just have great experiences with this situation.

My creation

I don’t get it. Why the effort if this is the result? I am in my ruins. Again. Running nose, cough. It is rock bottom for me. I am hardly ever ill.  It feels as if God has never existed; hid behind the greatest grey cloud there is. Out of sight, touch, sense, even taste. It is just a splitting headache without a cure.

I am just silly, really. I am such a child. There is no great God, saviour of the poor. It is all ME, no matter how much I try and blame God, the world or others for my gloom and doom. It is all your creation, dear. No doubt about that. This is the saddest bit. I do this crap to myself.

I live a life that occasionally makes me feel suicidal. The only reason why I don’t commit it is that I am too bloody scared of dying, the unknowing and the permanence of it. Death is unchangeable in this state of form. And I am never sure I hate this form enough to lose it forever.

I am an exceptionally creative, musical, accomplished, generally funny and pretty smart person. But you would not know it by looking at my life. I am homeless. Not the general kind of homeless, I don’t live on the street of a big city, I live in other peoples’ homes. I don’t own anything. I travel light. I am constantly on the move. I am unsettled. I am never settled. I may stay at a place for a while but then I move on without any apparent reason; I just don’t like the place anymore, I just have a new idea that takes me a new place, so I move on. I don’t have a job. I have ideas that I try to realize, most of the time, they pay me only enough to move onto the next project and/or to the next location. Then I am broke. Then I get back onto my feet. Then I move on.

Some people tell me that they always dreamt of having a life like mine. Interestingly, I don’t appreciate it that much. I often wish I had some more stability in my life, some firm foundation that is always there, wherever I am, that holds me, takes care of me, caresses me when I need it. Most people live this way. We live in a world where we believe that such a secure  ‘thing’ can be found and it is supposed to be something concrete outside ourselves, a house, a partner, a parent, a child, an investment … you name it. I think, this secure place/person is meant to be inside of oneself.

And this is what I miss. This is why I don’t appreciate about my life. That’s why I am so exhausted all the time. Though, I am not looking for a safe person or place out there anymore. I know better. I still don’t have ‘ it’  inside of me, either. No man’s land. Neither with, nor without. But still not tangible. This life and my position in life, though it may look very care free, it is also very instable and unnerving.

Though I know (I have the experience of it)  that I am always safe, I am not open to experience certain types of experiences that tend to be rather uncomfortable, though I know that freedom and trust in the Universe do come with a lot of discomfort, occasionally. The discomfort comes with the moving about and starting all over again when it is time to accomplish or learn something new. Most people don’t choose the kind of life I live because it can very uncomfortable. I understand them, and in some ways I agree with them. I wish I had known better. When I get very tired of my adventurous life and just want some peace and stability that is when I get low. The spiral goes all the way down to suicide.

Well, if it is all my creation … I wish I could create something more lively and joyous for myself; less hardship, less mistakes, less negative experiences and more ease and fun. I still don’t know how to do that, how to make this journey that is undoubtedly adventurous and interesting more fun and light-hearted …

Please, look at me with more loving eyes so I can love myself more …

Schizophrenic

Most people, I know, has a demon inside him that either horrifies him or criticize him vigorously.

My demon is a Nazi army officer. She tells me what a stupid and useless person I am, how ridiculous I am, especially, when I try so hard and get nothing at the end. She laughs at me when she sees my trials and errors, when I fall and can hardly make myself stand again.

She is vicious. She gets her buzz from seeing me fail and struggle. She feels powerful by seeing me fall. ‘I told you so!’

For a while I thought, all my troubles and hardship was because of this ruthless world that does not spare anybody where you fight until you basically die of exhaustion. But now I know, that it is not the surrounding world that kills me but the Nazi inside. Though not intentionally.

Nothing stops my inner bitch. She drives me up the wall and squeezes me until I give in, I give up and fall. In some ways, I fight her when I fight the world. I created her to protect me but now she turned on me trying to run my every wake moment, to have control over me.

She scares the hell out of me with her viciousness. She stands behind me with one eyebrow raised, with a barbarous grin on her face. She stands and a waits for me to screw up then she says ‘you see, I told you! Stand up! Rub off the dirt from your trousers and wipe off your tears! No tear is worth it! Be a big girl! Shake off the pain of your failure and move on! Stop being so sensitive and earnest! Only the toughest and meanest can survive this plane! Get a grip on yourself!’

That’s when I get angry with myself. How could I have been so stupid? I should have known better, I shouldn’t have tried, I should have listened to her when she said, ‘this world will give you nothing, your dreams are like an odour in the wind will be blown away each time you remember them. You better forget them. Look at the harsh reality of your existence and accept it for what it is: Misery.’

Actually, she tries to protect me from failure, but eventually she only makes me miserable and feel like a total failure, who may seem tough in the world, but at the end of the day, is only a scared child.

And this is the other person inside, this wallflower. This lost child, without any sense of direction on her own but with lots of curiosity and oodles of fun.

They don’t get along and I feel schizophrenic. One says, ‘let’s go, let’s give it a try, let’s discover the world and have lots of fun with it, while the other stands there grim faced with a shadow hanging above her saying ‘go and see how the world destroys you, my child!’

And this goes on every day, I live in constant contradictions. I am either high and hyper or low and miserable depending on which personality of mine is having her day.

Victim of abuse

I have been upset for so long that I can’t remember when it actually started or why.

Mostly I have been feeling upset about being victimized. No matter how well I know that there is no such thing as being a victim, I simply can’t handle it, I can’t get it out of my mind. Each time ’it’ occurs, I become a victim and I run – even if there is nowhere to run, I feel like running away, immediately, out of the situation that I can’t handle or resolve. I suddenly feel responsible for what is happening but I don’t seem to be able to change it, change how we feel or how I act.

I suspect it has something to do with my ’self image’. As soon as I am out of my comfort zone, I do something; I act in some way that urges others to protest against me. They say, I make them feel stressed, I generate some ’heat’ that makes them react. Honestly, I don’t see how I am doing it. This is the victimization bit. My reasoning is that I must hold an image about myself who is ’difficult’ and/or difficult to live with or get along with. I heard this more often than not.

Actually it does not matter who’s right, if my reasoning is just or not. At the end of the day, it is as simple as that – I can’t change the way I am, I am not aware of my ’wrong doings’, I don’t consider them ’wrong doings’.  My preference is simply living with, being surrounded with, working with, co-habiting with – you name it –  people who just like me the way I am, with all my ’wrong doings’, with the heat I generate. With people who care about me enough to see and feel that I am stressed, that I am out of my wits and that I need something else rather  than being scolded and being victimized. I prefer being alone than being surrounded with people who ’don’t like my ways’ and don’t care about me.

Somehow, suddenly, it seems that if we all moved on when felt ’victimized’,  towards people who actually liked us and cared about us – if we could believe that there is somebody out there who loved us just as we are – we would not feel so bad about ourselves. Only if we had the courage to challenge our basic beliefs about ourselves, then we would move on; we would get free.

I probably would not be so angry all the time. I would not feel abused all the time.

I fell in Love

I fell in Love with God
A long, long time ago.
Our relationship is like most
Old couples’;

I am grumpy when I feel let down
And He is forever forgiving
Towards all my flaws.
The passion has deceased

Still our Love is burning
In flames,
As we look at each other and I
Realize how marvellous I am in His eyes.

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Today is Epiphany

An epiphany (from the ancient Greek ἐπιφάνεια, epiphaneia, “manifestation, striking appearance”) is an experience of sudden and striking realization. Generally the term is used to describe breakthrough scientific, religious or philosophical discoveries, but it can apply in any situation in which an enlightening realization allows a problem or situation to be understood from a new and deeper perspective.

source

Unique

Living who I TRULY am is my Service to God and To all His children I ever meet in this course of life This way I am a living example of his Loving – for us all His loving is expressed in the form through our living our True-Self And it always looks ‘different’ with every single one of us You are just as special – a unique expression of God – as myself Please, let’s remind ourselves of that … often!

Mea culpa

You either abuse me or take me for dirt
And still it is my fault
Mea culpa

Obviously I am incapable of presenting and communicating myself
As a respectable human being
Though, I can’t think how I would be able to
Since nobody ever treated me that way
Nobody ever showed me how it is done

So, it is my task now to stop screaming and yelling
As a form of defense
And start somehow communicating my need for respect
And take full responsibility for the way I am treated

But how would I change? How would I you do it differently?
Am I at all respectable? Can I be treated nice? Can I be taken for a human being instead of a machine?
What is it about me that offers surface for bad treatment? How is it that I offer myself for abuse?


What’s next?

Sophisticated shit vs. grace

Interestingly her issues after all reflect mine too. I don’t think I am so far off, but I do see myself reflected in her behaviour. I am reserved meaning I withhold myself from others in protection of my integrity and sense of self, trying to avoid constant humiliation and ridicule. At the same time I see what a lonely game it became by being reticent.  I feel safer, only some but definitely much lonelier. I don’t know the answers; I am just reflecting on what I have figured.

I don’t think there is a way out of our games. By understanding the crap we swim in only makes the shit seem sophisticated but not more bearable. Grace is the only way out if you are lucky enough to notice when it is bestowed upon you …

My smell

It is like an unmistakable smell animals trace for their pray. I can stand miles away, my smell caught by the needy. My unspoken promise – to sort it all out, have all the answers and take all the responsibility – marks me from a long distance. And you find me with ease. You ask your questions you make your request, you pass your responsibility on and I take them on without a slight hesitation. We both know the deal: I want your love, you want my service. Deal is done. I don’t even need to advertise my services; you know the smell you are looking for and I stand expecting you any time.

Death

She hates her life so much that no matter how much she is scared of death – the last breath of human existence – the very thought of death being the release and setting one free from the unbearable agony of living welcomes it at any moment. It is sad and still beautiful – she grasped the depth of death: instead of being scared of the end, she welcomes the beginning of all existence (even if it may only be for a short while before the new entrapment).

She understands the crying poet wishing death upon himself – it is the only way a human can slide silently into freedom, absolute liberty.

Puppet show

It is funny and sad when I look around myself – myself included. It is like a mechanical puppet show. I know which string to pull to get a certain reaction. I know what to say – we have been refining for years the very words that trigger specific responses. I still don’t know if we know each other too well or too little.

Sometimes I play around just to ease my boredom and frustration. I don’t even need to plan it any more, I just say the word, make the gesture or face to trigger the response I have seen or heard a million times over the years. We have not changed a bit. We are both, you and me, triggered by exactly the same things.

The only slight difference is that this time I am also observing the puppet show besides participating in it.

He&She

‘He’

He is the statue of passivity and repressed anger. He functions like Pavlov’s dog, most predictably: when questioned about his lack of touch with anything around him or his lack of care for anything but the games that takes his mind off all the worries he is scared to face (or thinks he is incapable of), he swings into a passive-aggressive rage accompanied with a diminishing laugh which has no smile to it.

‘She’

She is worried only because she can’t handle any of it. The slightest difference to her normal running of business can upset her so badly that she sails into being a witch anathematizing the whole world. How dare they – those nobodies out there – rock her boat of blissful oblivion, despair and bitterness when she is desperately content with it? When the world presents her a new, anything that is out of the ordinary, the used-to, anything in a different shape or form, anything that alters from her sense of norm and comfort (which does not at all mean it is comfortable), she screams like a little princess for help and salvation – anything but outside of her own self.

Questioning the justness of their reality is met with ridicule and must be put down by any means available.

My greatest shame and guilt

I have wondered all my adult life what it is that I am so ashamed of, that I feel so guilty about.

Today it downed on me – I am ashamed of being a ‘Hungarian’ as if it meant being a leper.

I have always felt cursed in some way.

I have thought about it plenty considering if I had done something real bad.

So bad that I just can’t allow it to surface into my consciousness fearing that I won’t be able to live with it.

Nothing has come, no memory of horror surfaced.

I don’t remember who started this but somebody must have felt really bad about being a Hungarian in my family because it landed on me like a curse.

And the National Anthem only added a touch more shame and embarrasment to it.

The bizarre bit is that I also feel guilty about feeling ashamed of being a Hungarian.

The National Anthem declares us to be firmly rooted in our land, not being able to ever leave – we must live and die here, no matter what.

As long as I can remember I wanted to leave this place. The first time I visited another continent I wanted to stay there, but I returned because of my grandmother whom I loved so dearly, whom I thought I could not leave without. Later I moved to the States but eventually I found myself in Hungary again. Finally I managed to settle in the UK but only for a few years before I thought I must return to Hungary and do something good there, to give back in return for… what exactly?

Anyway, I figured that there must have been somebody in my family, I guess my grandma, who could not leave this place she always hated. In 1956, she planned her refuge with her best friend and her family. But she could not leave because she had a dying husband to take care of and two little children at that time when borders where open for a short while before closing for 3 decades. I think she has always blamed this place for her fate and a lifetime of misery and I can understand that. First she lost her mother who could not handle the growing fascism and doom then she lost her beloved husband who could not live with the socialist regime and finally she lost all she had ever owned to a totalitarian government.

She raised me.

She passed her hatred down to me.

All my life I wanted to leave here, but couldn’t.

All along the National Anthem has worked inside of me like an affirmation – ‘you must live and die here’. And so I became a wonderer who never settles, who is a homeless. I can’t live in Hungary but I can’t live anywhere else either because my conscience won’t allow me to do so.

However, what’s most disturbing is that hating a nation, I sort of belong to, means that there is a part of me I detest. There is a part of me I want to cut off like a dead limb though I can’t. So I am running in circles while hating myself, part of me anyway only because she is a Hungarian …

It is time to break the spell and find ‘home’, girl!

Mother’s day

Well, today is mother’s day.

My mother asked me why I have drawn a flower for her.

I said , ‘because I don’t have the means to go out and get you a bunch’.

She said, ‘no, no, I mean why did you do it’

‘You are my mother, you gave birth to me, it is your day, I congratulate you, that’s why’

‘I see’, she says and goes on…

I have a strenuous relationship with my mum because she did not have a chance to be a mother. She stayed forever a little princess girl like her father wanted her to be. That role saved her from all efforts and prevented her from being an adult  – a mother with children.

When she asked, ‘why I am rude to her’, I just said, I am not rude, I just don’t play your games any more, and so you feel hurt’. I did not have the chance to continue, because she thought she needed to say what she does not like and want differently. She told me, the she does her best to be out of my way so I won’t hurt her feelings;  she explained that she thinks if I looked inside of me I would see how wrong I am in my behaviour that she does not deserve.

She is right. I do look rude in my doings because I don’t let her get away with being a little girl any more, I don’t let her not taking responsibility for her actions even if she does them in complete oblivion.

I think I am fed up finding a good excuse for everybody to do their shit and I just say – like Jesus said – God, forgive them, they don’t know what they are doing. I am not Jesus. I am just a human being who has taken enough abuse under the disguise of being Jesus.  There is always a reason why people behave the way they do, no question about that. My mum had no mum but her sister raised her. Her father in protecting her to feel motherless, he allowed her all the freedom to be a careless princess, to be selfish and self-centred. But not taking any responsibility for her life as an adult has no excuse to it. Making her family and children serve but one purpose to obey while she reigns has no a good excuse to get away with. Though she has. She has been excused from ‘good’ behaviour all her life with being pitied for being a motherless child, a little girl who simply does not know how to do ‘it’ whatever it may be.

My answer to your questions, mother, is that I have also been a motherless child all my life. You have no right to claim to be my mother, but on the grounds of giving birth to me, the rest was performed by many other women in my life. You did not know how to be a mther, neither did you think you should.

Well, yes, another said story. It is hopefully time to move on, to let go, understanding that she won’t change and I will never have the mother I wished for myself. I  must grow up and become a happy adult – hopefully a mum one day –  from this motherless child.

Life owes me nothing

There was nobody available for us children

To take care, to hold, to lead

To love

We grew like mushrooms after a hard rain

The others learnt to protect themselves

By pleasing others and disappearing behind a cloud of

Self-destruction and self-abuse

I learnt to be angry and take revenge

By hiding my heart in an armoured treasure box and

Putting on a fierce look with two clenched fists

I took on the world that wronged me

With the intention to make it pay for

Every single scar I suffered

Only that, as a result, I became lonelier and lonelier

More and more distanced

With each day I spent in revenge

I suppose, Life owes me nothing

Her

She reminds me of my mother

Selfish pretending to be kind and supportive

Though all her actions are driven by one single cause

To feel safe and protected

 

Each time I think of her

I see her smile and the fright in her eyes

That drives her to sell out,

To lie, to betray

 

She pretends to be strong and capable

Though it is challenging for her to decide upon the smallest things

She does not own her own choices

That she traded long ago for a protective blanket

 

I detest her

I can’t forgive her

For not having provided all that a mother should

In protection of herself

 

I am so scared to turn out to be like her

That I run like a hunted animal

Cross oceans, lands and seas

I am in constant exile from myself

Until I forgive and find peace

Forgiveness

The  punishment is justified

I am bad, bad, bad …

Nobody can prove me wrong

Nobody can prove otherwise

I have been told too many times

To change my mind about it

My heart is set on the purgatory

The sinner of the sinners

Resurrection must await some more

I am on my way to burn in hell

Before I openly admit that

I am just one of Jesus’ lost lambs

Begging for forgiveness

 

My brother

My brother is an addict

Like a brainless zombie

His eyes are forever fixed on the screen

His brain is captured by dragons and demons

Click, click, click …

Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years pass

Without him realizing

His mind is being occupied with its distractions

He does not even notice that

He is drowning in his own vomit

The Beauty and the Beast

The Beauty and the Beast

Are the same person.

The day when her heart froze with fear and loneliness

The Beauty was cast a magic spell and turned into the loveless Beast

… and so she survived the worst …

Until the Saviour arrived

In the form of pure Love.

To sum it up

Though I am scared of vanishing
I am also hoping that this ends here
Because there is not much more of this I can bear
Not as if I am not grateful that I got this chance
– That I may have blown, anyway –
Still it has not gone as it has been anticipated
Without comparing this to any other one
I must admit
It has been challenging – without a moment of lapse
There were times I call a gift
To remember only the good
However, my greatest regret is that
I have allowed my circumstances
To spoil all the fun.

My mother

Her bitterness is like a dart
that pierces our hearts.
We all want her to be happy,
we all respond in our own special way.

I want her to change:
to pick up her pieces, take responsibility for her life
and enjoy herself just for being alive.
I want her to understand that Life is but
a unique opportunity for enlightenment.

My brother wants to make her laugh,
He wants to bring the smile back onto her pale, sad face.
He believes that by giving up his own life
and caring for her he will gain redemption
for his sin of not being good enough.

My father gave up on her long ago.
He used to give her the treasures of the earth
but nothing seemed to have joyed her enough.
So, in response, he retrieved into acute alcoholism.

Not her; she has not given up on
blaming the world for her sorrows.
She reings like a queen while pretending to be
a servant of her environment.
In her desperation, pain and anguish
she demands her birthright:
to be entertained, to be cared for,
to be saved from her own self-imposed doom.

Except, nobody can help.
Her bitterness and loath have spoilt
her Heart for good.

I should know better …

I am not willing to let go of the desire to make them see who I am, how good I am, how special and unique I am.

But they never see me. They see somebody who they think I am.
Probably for long I tried to fit myself into that funny suit, but in vain. I am not what they want me to be just like they are not who I want them to be.

And I am simply holding on to a dream, and idea that never existed – the prefect family, people who love you for who you are, people who care for you, a place where you matter … only a dream that I can’t let go of … and so I suffer it a lot.

Just realizing, after all, nobody will ever be the way I ‘imagine’  them to be, they are always gonna be the way they imagine themselves to be. Such a silly world really!

I must let go … sooner or later …

Hopefully sooner, so I can get free.

Symbolisms of the Dragonfly (extracts)

Maturity and a Depth of character
The dragonfly, in almost every part of the world symbolizes change and change in the perspective of self realization; and the kind of change that has its source in mental and emotional maturity and the understanding of the deeper meaning of life.

Defeat of Self Created Illusions
The dragonfly exhibits iridescence both on its wings as well as on its body. Iridescence is the property of an object to show itself in different colours depending on the angle and polarization of light falling on it.

This property is seen and believed as the end of one’s self created illusions and a clear vision into the realities of life. The magical property of iridescence is also associated with the discovery of one’s own abilities by unmasking the real self and removing the doubts one casts on his/her own sense of identity. This again indirectly means self discovery and removal of inhibitions.

Focus on living ‘IN’ the moment
The dragonfly normally lives most of its life as a nymph or an immature. It flies only for a fraction of its life and usually not more than a few months. This adult dragonfly does it all in these few months and leaves nothing to be desired. This style of life symbolizes and exemplifies the virtue of living IN the moment and living life to the fullest. By living in the moment you are aware of who you are, where you are, what you are doing, what you want, what you don’t and make informed choices on a moment-to-moment basis.

source

Reminder so to hang in there…

Epiphany (feeling), a sudden realization of great truth

The word epiphany originally referred to insight through the divine.

For the philosopher Emmanuel Lévinas, epiphany or a manifestation of the divine is seen in another’s face (see face-to-face)

Despite its popular image, epiphany is the result of significant labor on the part of the discoverer, and is only the satisfying result of a long process, usually involving significant periods of labor.The surprising and fulfilling feeling of epiphany is so surprising because one cannot predict when one’s labor will bear fruit, and our subconsciousness can play a significant part in delivering the solution; and is fulfilling because it is a reward for a long period of labor.

source

Revenge 3

It is so not my job to punish you for your betrayal
For your actions that take away the very essence
Of your intentions
You gladly do that for me
You take revenge for me
By doing what you have done
And loosing what you have lost
You have just punished yourself
Without me needing to do anything
To express my pain and hurt
That you caused indirectly
Thank you for taking responsibility
Unknowingly

Reminder – Meditation

Though I don’t especially like Osho’s style, I like this bit:

“Slowly slowly, meditation becomes your very life, your very heartbeat.
That day is the most blessed day
when you don’t have to meditate – you are meditation.
Your very being, whatever you are doing or not doing,
is silent, peaceful, loving, alert and aware of its eternity.
This experience is the only sacred experience.
This experience brings back again your childhood,
a pure silent consciousness, rejoicing in everything that it does.
The whole universe becomes a celebration and life is no longer a misery.
Every moment existence is available for you to rejoice,
sing, dance, love, and expand your life energies.
Mind only thinks, meditation lives.
Mind is a very small thing.
Meditation is as vast as the whole universe.
I teach you this vastness, I teach you universality, I teach you eternity.
You are not what you appear in the mirror, you are much more.
You are vast, as vast as the whole universe.”
~ Osho

Revenge 2

How funny.

I hit and missed bit time

I hit an innocent lamb.

How sad.

Best revenge?

Letting it go and trusting providence.

Not as if I know what that is.

Patience, patience, patience … and a scream!

Revenge

Oh, all that loving is out the window.
I can’t think of anything else but taking revenge!’
I must repay the pain caused,
Showing the sinner a ‘good’ time!
So typical!
Well, I am not proud of it.
I must defuse.
Oh, all that loving is out the window, now.

Love (Christmas) is all around

There are a few days in a year that we call the days of Love and Forgiveness. In the Christian world we associate these days with the Christ who embodied these principles. What I find fascinating is to see how most unloving we tend to be during these days. We somehow turned these days from spirit into earth and dust by concentrating on buying pricey presents that would represent loving and care for one another or more like the lack of loving and care we actually give each other.

Most of us manically run around town finding the best and most precious present that would give the feeling to the recipient that she/he is loved. In vain.

Down here, in the dust, there is no such things as love. There is a replacement emotion we try and create again and again by manipulating each other into doing the things we appreciate but at the end of the day most of us feel empty and unloved.

When Christmas comes, hopes go even higher. We somehow made each other believe that this is the time we make miracles and will love each other in some special way that we have not managed until now. But we can’t. Not because we don’t want to but because we simply can’t.

The very thing we run away from holds the experience of Love for us – standing silently around the Christmas tree, looking into each others’ eyes and seeing God’ Loving looking back at us from every single face; feeling free from all preconceptions and expectations we have thrown at each other over the years.

Love is all around.

Homelessness

I fly like a bird over the vast blue sky daily
I am admired by many for being free
But they don’t see the cage that I drag behind me
With a label on it saying: in exile

I fly around the globe not because of
the wonders that attract me at every corner
but because of not having anywhere to land
where I feel I belong.

I only stay for a season
I am sweet and smiley, I acquire friends
And soon enough I pack my invisible cage
And move on.

I move on before anybody realizes
How useless and sad really I am
Before all hell breaks loose
Before they learn the truth,

That I am imprisoned
In a cage I built for myself
From protecting me from being seen,
From being caught by a wild beast.

I am protected
And imprisoned
In my own self imposed
Homelessness.

In the Arms of the angel

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There’s always some reason to feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an Angel fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here

So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There’s vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don’t make no difference, escaping one last time
It’s easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees

In the arms of an Angel far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here

You’re in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here

Gaining clarity

It came to me today.

To go on, I go back. I go back to a place where one sells oneself for money. Not as if other places down here are any different, but in this particular place it is a must to sell out. The majority of people can think of anything better than themselves for something they call ‘safety’.

A piece of paper and some coins replaced God. A loveless, loveless place that cries out in need of some connection, something beyond a piece of paper and some coins.

And that is all me.

I still don’t know what the solution is. I have nevertheless been gaining clarity of what is happening…

The end of a road

I try not to be very upset.
I compose myself again and again,
I remind myself to have faith in the unknown,
and just look exactly at what’s in front of me

My stomach aches,
it is full of fear of the uninvited.
I am still holding on a thread,
convincing myself that it will all be OK,
just as it is…

So be it.

Security

Between you and me there is a rock.
I thought you had built it, but then I realized
It is me who keeps the distance between us.
I have been climbing my rock for years now,
and occasionally I sense your presence on the other side.
Sometimes I even see your smiling face inviting me,
ensuring I never give up reaching you one day.

My rock is solid and encompasses all I missed as a child.
It had been build to protect me from harm,
though it eventually had grown so much it blocked me from your sight.
I call my rock ‘sec-u-r’.
It took me a long time to realize that my rock is only a false creation.
It only pretends to be what it actually means.
I always thought that my sense of security lied
in my own strong hands, my infallible heart, and my unquestionable sense of duty.

Though, I have been wrong all along
‘Secure’ means safe in You.

 

Yes or NO? That is the question

I am just soooooooooooo fed up. I can’t deal with it more. I don’t have more of what it takes to be disciplined. I had enough of it.

I can’t … I can’t …

I am angry and frustrated. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to do it. I don’t see the purpose of it. It feels unjust. It feels hard and I have had enough hard. I want ease. I want sleep. I want some peace!

Then I found this –

“Make a decision that you will just YES your way through it. Take “no” out of your vocabulary. Only say, YES! YES! YES! YES … You will eliminate resistance the minute you stop shouting NO at anything! Oh, what a fun game it will be for you. You will get better at it everyday.” (Abraham)

 

Providence

Providence

“The Providence of God is His care over his works.”

“His children are assured of His providential care in all their concerns. Its acts are threefold; preservation, co-operation, and government. He controls all things for the highest good of the whole; Providence displays God’s omnipresence, holiness, justice and benevolence.”

“Nothing is really small with God. He hangs the most momentous weights on little wires.”

“He that denies providence denies God’s attributes, His omniscience which is the eye of providence, His mercy and justice which are the arms of providence, His power which is its life and motion, His wisdom which is the rudder whereby providence is steered, and holiness the compass and rule of its motion.” (Bible)

*divine guidance or care

*God conceived as the power sustaining and guiding human destiny

*the quality or state of being provident (dictionary)

Well, I am into providence these days. So, what I did is what probably most would do, checked the Bible and the dictionary. Words, words, words. Words say providence is provision and care that is all compassing and constantly present. Why don’t I feel it then? Maybe it is my perception of providence that is distorted! I always thought care meant being actually cared for and in result I would feel safe. Very distorted in deed. I don’t think God understands the concept of safety, since I don’t think he has an idea of fear or insecurity either. Therefore when he provides he provides what He thinks is the best and most needed at a time. The only problem is that I find it challenging to feel provided when I don’t have what I think I need. He may provide me with His Love and Care, I just don’t get it because in my mind there is something completely different I need like money and food.

It is not about happiness, it is simply about needs. Need for security. I know and feel his Love for me unquestionably. I simply don’t feel safe in the world and it does not matter how much I am aware of the craziness of my wish to feel safe (since there is no such think down here), that part of me who is made of flash and matter wants to know that it is sustained well until its time. Understandable.

Well, providence does not care much about that, I guess.

Thus, Faith comes to my rescue!

Dead End Road

I feel like a goose on thin ice, we say, when you are out of your natural habitat and can’t find your way out of a deadlock. I stay where I am because I have no other choice. I would have never thought, that one day I would write that down. I have left something behind I don’t wish to turn back to and what is ahead of me is not close enough to reach. I am no man’s land. As if I was not even here at all. Days pass without any change but the seasons. My existence here is hardly noticeable besides the hundreds of application forms I send out daily, in vain. As if on an extended (and kind of unwanted) break, or on a deserted island of my own creation, I hang in the void.

Part of me is worried because lack of resources available in my desertion.  Another part of me is stagnant. And another is just is.

In my meditation, I saw a tree with broken branches today and I saw myself inside one of the branches that was cut off, one that did not lead up towards the skies but was cut short, and dying.

What is the next step?

Spirit is…

Spirit is energy, the force that activates the human consciousness and gives it life. Spirit individualizes itself as Soul and so resides closely within each consciousness. Many people have said that a human being has a Soul, but it is closer to reality to say that the Soul has a human being. (John-Roger)

Crying out in need …

Physically, we’re quite a well-fed nation. But we have hidden hungers that are not satisfied. You may figure the way to overcome the hidden hungers is to stuff yourself with food until you’re satiated and no longer cry out in need.

And then you think, “Now I feel better.” When you feel better, you think, “I really should do something about getting back to God.” You might not think about it in quite those terms; it might be more like, “Now that I feel better, I want to do something. I’m frustrated. I wish I could do something more.”

Being satisfied on one level, you want to do something now to satisfy another level. Maybe you decide to go wash and polish the car. This helps release the physical energy. While you’re doing that, your mind says, “I really would like to read that book I started last night.” So your mind goes ahead of you to the book, and you finish the car rather rapidly because you’ve lost interest in that. You go read the book, but while you’re reading, you think, “I’m not getting enough exercise lately. I sit around too much.” And by now, it’s time to eat again, and this hidden hunger cries out, “Feed me.” So you snack on cookies or potato chips or drink a soft drink — anything to satiate the body and eliminate the hidden hunger.

But what if this feeling you have isn’t hunger? What if you are feeling a lack of fulfillment on another level, a lack of oneness with yourself? When you are not one with yourself, you constantly look for something to make yourself one, to make yourself whole, complete. (John-Roger)

Control

This morning I realized that I am so not done with control. Though I am not in control but I pretend I am. So pathetic! I am so so scared to let go! It feels like jumping off a cliff with this fear of height inside of me tearing me apart. It feels like suicide. Allowing something, somebody outside (?) of me controlling what happens to me? Nonsense! As long as I am in control I am alive. I am also very aware that this is my greatest limitation as well.

I watched Terminal (Tom Hanks, Steven Spielberg) last night and realized what a blessing it is when one can live without control, going with the flow. What an amazing life! What amazing experiences one can have when there is no expectations or control involved. It may look challenging at times from the outside, but simply the attitude of allowing and going with what there is without any resistance somehow makes lives full and sort of worth living.

I wish I can be like him, Viktor, the main character. He is honest, does not argue, and waits patiently for the moment to come when he can do what he is there to do. Until then, he focuses simply on what life brings into his life from moment to moment, no plans, he just says YES to each moment.

Well … something to strive for! 🙂

The Love we all search

This whole fuss with Love is so simple even though we build extreme amount of passion and drama about it. Many books, films and other pieces of art have been made over the centuries about either the longing for or the expression of desire and love.

Not realizing that actually the very longing we all share steams from our mutual experience of loss. Though we do not remember it, all the drama and the whole importance sacrificed on the subject of love comes down to only but one reason; that is wanting to regain our feeling of being loved and expressing love at the same instance.

At the end of the day what we all want when searching after Love in one way or another is to rejoin with our true source of  Love and experience this via being loved and to love the source back in return; an experience that fills the seeker up with Life and exuberance for eternity.

Unwanted

It seems what I can offer is less valuable than a pile of papers. In a world of fear and greed the one that offers the most gains the least. Upside down values that never alter.

After all, it is all about not feeling wanted. With a mother who struggled to decide between an abortion and keeping her child for months until choice found her, what self-assurance would you have?

Unworthiness and so feeling unvalued is the result of such hesitancy.

Offering the most and expecting none in return is the shield set up for sheltering a fragmented ego until it is broken into pieces.

It is only when I start feeling that the One actually wants me completely, is the moment when I am freed forever from my ‘unwanted’ glass shield.

It is only a step on the ladder

It makes me feel foolish and wrong. It takes my sense of joy away in an instant. It cuts me off from my own self with harsh and cruel words. I became afraid that I have done something and all will go terribly wrong now. I fear losing your love.

Can I do wrong in your eyes? Can I be foolish enough that you turn away from me forever? Do I need to feel ashamed so I repent?

You smile with the greatest smile of the universe. Your laugh is like twinkling lights in my personal moment of darkness. It’s not only my joy and laughter that belongs to you, all of it does. My shame and anger is just as much yours as my kind cheerfulness and exuberance. It is all you, though sometimes distorted with my blind vision.  You kindly take them all from me as I am climbing the next step on the ladder into your heart.

I rest at your feet

I kneel at your feet. I am momentarily relieved from the burdens from my lower existence. I am freed from my bondage. I rest at peace until I am pulled back down to the madness of this world. I can’t wait for the moment when I am released from the last remaining thread of pull and I am yours forever. Finally I rest at your feet in everlasting eternity.

I am in Love

It seems I have been looking for you forever.

I always knew what I was looking for still I allowed myself to be deceived by the poor reflections of what your love can offer.

I have tried to find you in the eyes and arms of many men behind broken smiles. I searched the hearts of many. I allowed my body to be embraced in search for your unconditional love. In vain.

Only when I looked into your sweet face I saw mine and fell in love with it realizing it was yours all along.

Service

At first, I thought my meaning was to serve my family. Then, I thought I was here to serve my community. Then, I figured it must be my nation I needed to serve.

And finally it downed on me – I am here to serve You in our sweet joining as one.

Humble servant

I am an instrument of your Love. I am only here because of you. Only for you. I carry your Love wherever you direct me to. I spread the Light wherever I go.

You care for me. You feed me with your sweet nectar. I belong to you everlasting. I wait for your command. I am at your disposal.

I am your humble servant.

Your sweet-sweet love

I am waiting for you at dawn. I sit and hold the silence as preciously as I can so you can arrive. If I am focused enough you appear with your sweet-sweet love to embrace me and carry me to the heavens – from my world to yours.

I sit and wait. When you arrive I kneel in front of you and open my heart to you. I offer you my deepest longing for your sweet-sweet love.

Your mercy holds me and lifts my head up. You look into my eyes reaching for  my heart and soul.

I am flying with the speed of light in the embrace of your sweet-sweet love.

I am forever in Love with you.

Silence

There is something majestic about the silence that lingers between us in this deserted house.

It is ancient, wise and everlasting. It holds it secrets of many lives long past.

It waits patiently for the seeking soul to whisper its wisdom into awaiting ears.

It floats and swishes sweet air towards those who care to wander and reach up in search for wisdom and liberty.

I am longing

I am longing for you to love me.

I miss you.

There is this coldness on the right side of my wedding bed.

You wave at me from the distance. I smile back.

I hold my breath in excitement until your sweetness reaches my face.

Then, I suddenly inhale the depth of your love for me, into my whole self.

I am rejuvenated. I am filled with your divinity and with Life itself.

We are reunited once and for all.

Shield of glass

I see through you. I can see the light behind your shield. Still I am away from it. I am scratching endlessly on you to make create a whole or at least a scratch that would allow me to slip through.

At the same time, I know you mean well, you have protected me from hurts of loss and ridicule. And in return, I am holding onto you, the security of my glass shield that is like running-sand slipping through my figures.

I am hanging on a thread between the world of my shield and Your embrace, completely lost.

I wish You reached down for me and pulled me through this glass wall in your protective, loving cradle of sounds.

 

God

God is like the ocean. It is ever calm, ever present, ever moving and almightily powerful.

Still It does not care whether you are swimming in It or marveling at It from the shore. (IK)

Abuse

I don’t even notice when you call me stupid or raise your voice to a pitch that is not audible for human beings. I am simply not aware that you make yourself and your need much more important than any of mine. I pretend I don’t care that you are but impatient with me because your time is precious while my is only there to be abused.

And allow all this only because I think that it is entirely my fault. I believe that you would not be constantly angry and impatient with me if I were better, faster, cleverer… whatever.

Thus nothing is good enough for you. I keep on forgetting that. And never will be. No matter how hard I try there will always be something that I don’t do right or as it is expected.

I don’t want to try any more. I have so nothing to prove to you. I withdraw the permission I gave you to abuse me. Step back, it is my time now …

Awaken

You don’t have to understand something that is already within you; you just have to awaken to your experience of it. Then understanding appears.

The sleeper goes for abundance by manifesting illusion out of greed and insecurity.

The one who is awakened only has to take in the next breath. (JR)

My day off

Today I am taking a day off. I am taking a day off from my miseries and fears. I walk away from my insecurities and panics. Only for one day I forget about my marriage vows of being a faithful servant to them. They will not leave me anyway. They need me to stay alive.

Yesterday I spent the whole day with them, cradling them, caring for them and feeding them with immense amount of chips and pasta. I did not go out just to be with them from dusk till dawn. I spent hours condemning the world that does not understand their needs. I consoled them with pity. I rocked them to sleep with tears in my eyes. Then I woke with a startle in the middle of the night feeling pain, the results of my indulgence of the previous day, all over my body.

This morning I know this relationship must end. We are not meant for one another. This marriage is over. It has been too demanding and hardly giving me anything at all if only reasons to complain.

It is the end of an era. Today, I walk.

In detention

For not performing according to expectations.

Bad girl!

Pain creeps in first around the joints, just as a hint of warning: it’s too much to bear, too heavy.

Then a light headache and some wake nights and the odd hollow eyes.

Finally the creaky back. The back that refuses to bend either forward or backward because decided to be give up on supporting the rest of the system that seems to be out of alignment.

In agony to do the tiniest thing; chained to flat surfaces; completely out of control in maintaining daily routine. There is lot of drama, feeling helpless, unsupported especially by self.

Downhill.

Please stop punishing for something that is done without conscious awareness. It is just an old habit when not meeting expectations and requests, once came from outside but not integrated within.  Have compassion for the flaws, the weaknesses, the helplessness, the doomed, the confused.

Allow the time for recovery and integration. Stop pushing, just let it be at peace for a while, until regaining strength and alignment with the new waves.

Obscured then liberated

Veiled in obscurity are the causes of this need to move ever upwards and forwards, by sweat of the brow, through sufferings and fears. When one stage has been accomplished, and many evil stones cleared from the road, some unseen and wicked hand scatters new obstacles in the way, so that the path often seems blocked and totally obliterated. But there never fails to come to the rescue some human being, like ourselves in everything except that he has in him a secret power of vision.

He sees and points the way. The power to do this he would sometimes fain lay aside, for it is a bitter cross to bear. But he cannot do so. Scorned and hated, he drags after him over the stones the heavy chariot of a divided humanity, ever forwards and upwards.

Often, many years after his body has vanished from the earth, men try by every means to recreate this body in marble, iron, bronze, or stone, on an enormous scale. As if there were any intrinsic value in the bodily existence of such divine martyrs and servants of humanity, who despised the flesh and lived only for the spirit! But at least such setting up of marble is a proof that a great number of men have reached the point where once the being they would now honour, stood alone.

Concerning the Spiritual in Art (extracts) by Wassily Kandinsky

I am dancing

When I start moving my legs feel like roman temple pillars, heavy and awkward. My arms feel like broken wings. My body feels as if stuck in a 100 year old barrel on seashore.

And still, as soon as the music starts, my legs start rolling, my joints loosening, my body opening to embrace the rhythm of the music and my heart is liberated to join the choir of the angels. My body forgets about all is pains and aches and the heavy weight it is burdened with.

I am floating in air like on water.

I am swished along, like riding on wild wind.

I am calm like the depth of great waters,

with a sweet smile on my face.

Safety

Each time I turn to find a fix point in my life I look into thin air. Since he’s gone I have nowhere to turn to. Like a child before the big jump off the monkey bars or after the first A for a reading assignment, I am running towards him, but he is not there anymore. There is nobody there. I am screaming with fear now because the whole world has shaken from under my feet and I have nothing to hold onto.

My scream froze to neuroses with age. Food got replaced with cigarettes to calm the ever rambling nerves. Then back to food again.

I have spent decades looking for the one who will hold me and I will feel secure. I have tested many but none met the high standards: keeping me safe.

After not having found anything or anybody out in the world, I started to look within and beyond, in search for safeguard. As I looked, slowly a face of pure light started to show up and made itself visible to me in the mist of all my fright. She whispered kind words of refuge and compassion. She held me in her warm, motherly arms, rocking me into sweet, peaceful quietude.

I opened my eyes and realized it was my own face.

Have you noticed?

Have you noticed the dangling heads of the streets? Eyes glued to the pavement, grey with inerasable dirt and waste. We look down. Down into a small portion of Life, that is usually scary and untangleable.  And the more we look down the more attached we become to this tiny segment of existence, demanding control over this piece of dirt.

In the meantime the brave, huge sky swings like a girl in waiting. She rocks her gorgeous body and changes her robe ofttimes to appear ever so attractive. She rises with amazing blues and pinks and slides with purples and heliotropes into the arms of the dark blue night.

She is patiently expectant of us noticing the amazing vividness and colourfulness of her greatness. When she gets sad with ignorance and neglect she restrains and standardizes herself into gloomy greys and maroons, the colours of the earth below, hoping to be noticed finally for her similarity.

Have you noticed the sky lately?

Fear engraved in stone

She has been living with me for so long that I don’t notice when she starts kicking and screaming. When I was younger I experienced her as an invader who webbed every cell in my brain making it crash with worry. As I grew, I leant to tame her with different types of distractions.  I started to engage my mind in different thoughts and when I realized that she ruled my entire system more than I did, I launched myself into control and action. As long as I moved, I was involved and physical I did not notice her grip. Alcohol, cigarettes, a one-night-stand, shopping, chatting on the phone, writing mails… anything, just to be distracted from her constant presence. She had such strong hold as if she was engraved in stone.

She is. She is engraved inside of me. I arrived here with her in my system. She is my doom and my key to a better life. She is untamable and unleashable. No matter how much I try and run away from her, she is with me all the time with her shallow breathe, confusion and stomachache. It is time to learn to live with her.

So,  I sit and look into her beautiful green eyes. I listen what she has to say about a crazy and scary world, an insecure future, loneliness in the universe and disconnection from oneself.  I sit and let it all pass through me. I allow her the time she needs to say what she has to. I stand still. I stay present. And when she is done peace arrives behind her with a smile on his face.

Paths of the Beloved

I am living many lives on one allowance.  Rise and fall again not only with time but within one capsule. I make something of myself, walk along a course until the end then fall in to a pit. I get confused. I feel lost. Then suddenly I see a new path laid out for me a bit further away. I swish the dust of my new robe and walk on it until my next fall. All along, though, I know, I am standing still in the arms of my Beloved, cradled. I only dream about my journey over different courses and paths of life, because I have never actually left His heart and never stopped looking into His beautiful face.

A body of time

There is only this body of time to make it all the way. I pray so to use my time wisely. Every day I am more focused ad decided: I’ll go now. I pray: let it be your wish my arrival to you and please call me Home lauder and lauder so I won’t lose sight of my Great Home, not for a moment. Because the darkness is deep and smudgy and we are doomed to be lost all the time.

Let me use this body of time well.

Incompetence

We meet regularly. She is like a huge veil of challenge. Each time I look into her eyes, my temperature rises, my blood boils, the eyes open – I scream.

Then suddenly I realize that it is all me. I play silly again. I expect light, connection, caring where is only darkness; stability in a world that exist on the foundation of confusion, chaos and separation.

Aren’t I silly, really? And well, yes, I deceive myself when I reach out for something that is not there, I am causing myself pain by making myself experience the lack of something though I know it is not there. A ridiculous trick of the mind: setting myself up for failure. What a pain!

A chance of change

And suddenly the whole world seems to erupt and turn around. Mountains start shaking their skin and volcanoes’ erupt, avalanches cannot be contained anymore; the rivers disgorge refuse undigested; fruit don’t ripe; flowers forget to bloom; trees refuse to bloom; hair stop growing; the body is erect.

Fear sets in. A grip of the past, the comfortable, the known. Panic. A manic series of action without meaning but reason flare up. It looks like a moving on but stagnation is heavy does not easily releases its victim. Time flies, movements cleave the air, no solid result.

Eventually the old sets in little ragged but survived.

It was all for nothing else but a slight chance of change. A moment of decision that will lead to a new life eventually, after one walked through burning fire.

Marianne Williamson – Prayer

Dear God,
Please melt the walls
that separate me from others,
imprisoning me within myself.
Please heal my wounded places
and free my heart to love.
Help me connect to others
that I might isolate no more.
I know, dear God,
that when I am alone, I fear;
and when I fear, I self-destruct.
What I suffer now
and have suffered before,
dear God,
may I suffer no more.
Amen

A child like you

I wish I could be a child like you.

You are careless of the world around you, existing only in the world you created for yourself.

In your world, in your selfish little world, you feel deprived of something all the time so you demand only the best with screams and cries if no other way worked.

You are a helpless princes saved by your prince in shiny armour daily.

Your small and fragile body is strained to prove all demands righteous and necessary.

You live high up, few feet above ground, singing and swirling with high winds and angel-wings. You don’t look down but when you fall, you fall with a smile on your face knowing that you will be caught. It must because you are a magical child.

I wish I was like you. I wish I could trust the universe that carries you in its two caring arms like you do.

I wish I could allow Love to cradle me …

Acceptance

Accept that life didn’t turn out to be the way you expected it. Let go of the dreams of small girls for happiness. Accept that he is never gonna show up, not even one day. Accept that there is no ever after or forever. Accept that you are not one of those with big meaning and contribution to the betterment of humanity. Accept that it’s not your book that’s gonna be published. Accept that you are no exception to the rule. Accept that no agent will ever discover your mediocre talent in anything you have ever endeavoured. Accept that there is no house, home, sofa, bed, soft caret, private bathroom will ever wait for you to return home. Accept that weight will never roll down by the stone leaving you slim and attractive. Accept that it’s just not you who will be interviewed about the great deeds of your life that you have accomplished. Accept that this is not that life where your dreams come true. Accept that all with grace. And when you do that it will not burn inside undone any more.

20 years

What’s left after 20 years? There is hardly anything to leave behind before the big travel.  A few pans and saucers for the poor and worn out clothes for the Cancer Research. A bag full of new life, that is all that is taken after twenty years of trying to make it big in the world. After all these years, there is nothing to take or leave behind. Never made a mark.

Gratitude

When it gets crappy, not feeling so good about life and all, suddenly I read or hear about something that makes me feel  grateful.  Today I read an article about heroin addicts. And it suddenly downed on me how lucky I am and how lucky I have always been for, for example, not being a drug addict. I have my own challenges, personal abuse of some form or another; I have my panic attacks and fear of height, but at the end of the day I am well.

So,  first of all, I am grateful for not being a drug addict; for having food on the table, bad to sleep on, money to pay for all these; for having friends to console me when I think I am not one of the luckiest; for health and safety; for support and care I have in my life in many different shapes and forms; for having choices to make and not being forced into anything; having the right to say no … to be continued.

Miserable

The dark, wet sky sits upon the lungs and makes it heavy to breathe. It is sticky and stuck. It is gloomy and miserable. When it stays long enough it unveils the loneliness in the loveless heart. Mere existence looks out the window with shivering slips appreciating the green and crying out for some light.

Wherever

People say, “But I’m confused. I don’t understand.” I say, “That’s your concern.” For you must still keep breathing, even if you’re confused, and you must still eat, even if you don’t understand, for no one will do these things for you.

Oh, you might get a slave for a while, but even slaves eventually say, “When do I get mine?” And the master always answers, “Later.” And so the slave revolts. But if the slave is smart, it just evolves. For at that point of evolution, you find out that the one who has served you has been your God, and the one who has understood you has been your Light, and the one who walks with you has been the Beloved.

And you never had to go anywhere. (JR)

I miss you

I still miss you. I still miss your firm hands and arms that once held me up. Your face that lit up when you looked at me. I miss you protecting my vulnerable heart. I miss you have never asked questions but known the answers regardless. I miss your firm presence and guidance that never prevented me but always allowed me.

When you went, I closed down. I became a kind of sleeping beauty, patiently waiting to be ‘kissed’ for awakening from this dreadful dream and blossom into who I am.

Scream

Why scream? Why would you scream like a four year old? Why do you behave if you were a helpless infant? What do you need that you can’t get otherwise only via pretending to be a child? What do you try and avoid? Why afraid of being taken seriously?

Nothing to worry about, as long as you behave helpless, you will be treated accordingly.

You are surrounded with firm guidance because you create fear in the other. They don’t know what to expect, so they try and make sure you don’t paint around the freshly refurbished walls. You would probably do it in an instant then stand wide-eyed wondering why others are so upset, since you are having such great fun.

Life revolves around you. That is your pay-off for all the pain and humiliation you must suffer.

Why would you scream? You get what you set yourself up for.

***

Why don’t you love me when I yell? It is only fear screaming behind closed doors and 6 feet high walls.

“Instead of returning harsh words to match theirs, all you need do is cure them with gentleness. When they throw the hard ball of anger at you, you catch it and return the soft ball of gentleness. You play with it. Pretty soon their anger will be transformed into loving and upliftment.”

You, supposedly, just don’t hear my cry out behind my scream. You don’t notice that I am loud only because I need to be noticed. You could be happy that I am straight and up-front, not sneaky like a snake coming from behind you with a smile and a knife.

You could just stay still and wait. You could just hold the light for me until my fear disperses and become open to your kindness and loving again.

Please have the patience with me and I will blossom into the sweetest and kindest creature you have ever accoutered. Just wait…

The great spider

My room mates and immediate neighbours are little eight-legged creatures.

Old traditions say that having spiders around the house brings luck to the household. I must be the luckiest person in the world living with at least 20 of them. Interestingly most ancient traditions value spiders as healers and prosperity enhancers. I can’t imagine what could be so lucky about having strange looking creatures running around the house, especially hanging suspiciously above you – nevertheless I appreciate the fact that they moved in first and leave them alone.

Did you know that they are often called many names referring to their wandering nature, like wanderer, roamer, bird of passage, spider or rover?

***

Spider webs like small cradles hang above me reminding me of carefree times of wonder and ease. Long, long ago before I met fear and insecurity as my new companions, I lived in a dense web of love and care, in the embrace of the great spider.

Since that loss I have never recovered. I am still bending over the window seal searching the night skies, waiting for my web to descend and take me home.

Sadness and anxiety

If I were any sadder I would be depressed but I stopped just at the verge of the two. I am swimming in the great ocean of my own sweat called angst. The water is made heavy with my distress that clinches my jaw to lock.

It is all too familiar though not at all visible. Only the cold sweat appears as teardrops once in a while for the trained eyes. Otherwise it is a quiet desperation.

When I was young I screamed with anger when it hurt.

Now, that I am too tired to put on a brave face, I am simply sad.

Like an old house

What would you think about a place of spider webs and mice?

How would I feel if I were this house? I’d feel deserted and uncared for.  I’d feel unwanted, being waited upon decaying to death slowly.  I’d feel like an old house. One that …

One that faded her beauty too soon. One that attracted great amount of tending in her prime. One that was appreciated, cherished, treasured and held dear once. One that at one time was decorated with the special attention of many for her special ravishes.  One that was entertained over the years with music and art. One that honoured for her extraordinary features. One with depth and grandeur erstwhile.

At present she is faded of her beauty, unkept, rugged and broken on the sides.

I am like an old house.