No direction is written on the walls,
not even a name carved on the asphalt.
Those who have flown elsewhere laugh:
Why do you wait for the last minute to redeem yourself?
The sun comes every day,
every light is ready,
But you turn your back and say:
"No, there is still time."
Yet the hours are marked,
The fronts are marked with sacred chrism;
why are you waiting for the last moment?
The path is all green
every blade of grass has had its life,
billions of saddles in our hearts,
that beat fast asking for the grace to be directed towards a better world.
So, what are we waiting for?
Our gift is this, to love always, to love everyone, animals and people, plants and creatures all.
We listen to the hiss of the wind and light our candles;
He is with us, he brings together the leaves and the flowers to make us strong trees,
which never bend.
Last night, I had a dream. I dreamed of a man. He wasn’t really a man, he was rather a young man. Yes, he was a young man. I don’t remember his face. I only remember his eyes, large, clear, I don’t remember the nuance of the iris. Maybe they were green, or maybe blue … who knows what color those bright irises were painted? Certainly, I repeat, they were clear. I remember his hair. They were beautiful. They were wavy, brown, a dark brown, almost black. They painted the gray background of a winter’s day with those tongues of charred wood. I remember touching them. They were soft, softer than I thought. I had imagined them bristly, almost stringy. And instead, what was my surprise in knowing that they are soft and silky, almost water rubbed between my fingers. I remember caressing them, from root to tip, which barely touched his shoulders. They were long and neatly messy. They were so beautiful. I remember them very well. He wasn’t handsome, my young man. But he was attractive, as no Adonis can be. He had a voice… oh, what a voice! He modulated his words gracefully and muttered softly when I was close to him. I touched his hands. He had nice hands. The fingers were long, tapered, pianist’s fingers, as they say. The skin of those hands … You touch it. Oh, if I touched them… they were soft, like hair. They weren’t hot, but they weren’t cold either. They were warm, that sweet, subtle warmth that warms your soul and barely touches your heart. Sweet sound his words close to my ear, as he murmurs …
Waiting for the sea,
mixed with oil, frozen,
let go
to the same drift of man.
Quickly disguised, this death has come,
escorted by screaming seagulls,
stopped by the stench of the restart.
Boat engines,
rejected the wave,
they crawled on the waves,
to capture the only good spesce.
Unscrewed the secret,
of the marine rottenness,
who loves,
answers,
who loves,
answers,
the green lighthouse
calls the missing ships
in the black horror. A larger area becomes that heart that chases away the gray spots
from its polluted surface.
( ITALIAN RHYMING VERSION)
Attesa del mare, mischiato a petrolio, ghiacciato, lasciato andare alla stessa deriva dell’uomo. Rapidamente travestita, questa morte arrivata, scortata da gabbiani urlanti, fermata dal lezzo della ripartenza. I motori delle barche, respinta l’ondata, hanno strisciato sulle onde, per catturare l’unico spesce buono. Svitato il segreto, del marcio marino, chiama, risponde, chiama, risponde, il faro verde richiama le navi disperse nella nera orripilanza. Un’area maggiore diviene quel cuore che scaccia via le macchie di grigiore dalla sua superficie inquinata.
How do you learn to walk? How do you learn to be reborn? It starts from a shell, the armor that welcomes the soul, a fire that becomes embers continues to feed a force, it is expanding energy, it is a reaction that causes a flame, it brings back life. It is a crust that breaks, the shell that lets in a crack; it is the moment in which what is inside presses, takes possession of its space, the lung that absorbs oxygen and swells with each breath, it is the sleepy eyes that wake up slowly, morning dew, breeze that carries perfumes, silent communications of nature, everything slowly returns to be heard. It’s having patience, being born and screaming, and crying, and giving voice to emotions, being afraid, too afraid, and not having the courage, and being afraid. Smell life and be afraid of it. How I suffer while I am reborn! I suffer from love and repressed feelings, I suffer from tired anger, I suffer from memories left in the past, they tear the last flaps before granting me relief. I bless and I curse, I curse and I bless. I laugh with pain, I cry with joy. And I’m afraid. I keep my eyes closed in the light that makes its way between the thin eyelids, the clearness of the skin reveals the green, purple veins, a new blood flows strong: rich, healthy, uncontaminated, vaccine, vial of life, antibiotic that burns and melts what rotten stagnates. everything returns to bloom. I begin to live again.
So ready to disappear
I was
so featherweight
and apologize to the skin
with every dust of air
for undue occupation,
so impressed by the transparency
I was
to make glass
tersissimo
to dazzling mornings
and smell of wave
between propped bodies.
So strictly useless
the soul
my
to keep it green next to it
in the long course of the so-called
dating
without any unhinging
of speech.
"Then? Then?"
Then
I slipped out
in hard peel
world skin,
I make a silence
on evil,
a cloak
of insolent beauty
terrestrial.
I cannot command
this flow
it is a great work
of clear yield
with a majestic current,
I am a word to the light
I was born.
Gustavo Adolfo Rol seems to have been the only soul on earth capable of modifying matter with the sole will of thought. Rol realized he possessed this extraordinary "power" in 1927 and was very upset by it, so much so that he wrote this sentence in his personal diary:
"I discovered a tremendous law that binds the color green, the musical fifth and heat. I have lost the joy of living. Power scares me."
Heat is perhaps the point that perhaps least interests us, as it is only a consequence, a perception caused by the other two factors, namely the green color and the musical V. As for the musical V, Rol attributed a vibration to this factor, the same vibration perceived by visualizing the green color, with which he felt a great power within himself.
Rol visualizing the green color, perceived this vibration which in a certain sense made him feel omnipotent. Green is the color of healing, the color of peace and tranquility… just like the nature of our planet.
What we intend to emphasize is not only that Rol was extraneous to spiritualism both from a theoretical and practical point of view, but also that he abhorred it and had always abhorred it decisively, because it was completely extraneous to his way of being and his way of feeling. and live the spirituality.
Gustavo Rol understood that man can become the "door" that connects the world of matter and spirit.
Through his studies, his talents and practice he had learned how to become the door and expression of the spirit in the material world.
To do this he used to stimulate the three most commonly used perceptual channels: visual, auditory and kinesthetic to "tune" his body with the psyche in a precise vibration.
I believe, in fact, that these three elements (Color, Heat and Sound) must be, as much as possible, taken into account in a single element.
First of all, it seems trivial to say that heat is almost certainly understood in an esoteric / corporeal sense, if not alchemical; we do not think of candles or stoves, so to speak, but rather of the ability to develop heat in a given point of your body.
This is relatively simple to achieve, it is enough to learn to concentrate one's attention in one point, to have, at least, the perception of an increase in heat, an inner warmth.
But all this necessarily refers to meditation on the Chakras, for which the system is precisely to concentrate on one of these ancestral energy vortices (having the perception of the increase in heat, in fact) and to think of inhaling the air directly from the point in which we have gathered our concentration.
Continuing, it seems obvious to me that the question of color naturally comes to meet this last discourse: the Chakras have notoriously colors (and sounds interconnected to them) and what is described as green is the fourth chakra:
The heart is the central point of creation and therefore all chakras depend on it. It could be compared to a central station from which an energy flows towards the parts of the body. The heart is the seat of the Spirit, the source of almighty force, manifested in Shiva. Therefore a strong heart chakra is the basis of a healthy and dynamic personality, full of love and compassion. This subtle center controls breathing and the functioning of the heart and lungs. With the awakening of the kundalini that opens this center, one becomes a self-confident person in God, responsible and courageous. Such a person is capable of loving all of humanity without any personal interest and is loved by everyone.
What we intend to emphasize is not only that Rol was extraneous to spiritualism both from a theoretical and practical point of view, but also that he abhorred it and had always abhorred it decisively, because it was completely extraneous to his way of being and his way of feeling. and live the spirituality.
Massimo Inardi in 1975 speaks of "his constant contempt for everything that smacks of spiritism, mediumship or parapsychology"
Pitigrilli reports that Rol once, in the 1940s, said to him: "Do you deal with spiritism? You are unworthy to teach you these things. I don't want to see you anymore "(also present in his book)
"I hate spiritism, as it is understood, as it is practiced." With this sentence alone he rejects both theory ("as it is understood") and practice ("as it is practiced"), namely mediums, trance, sessions, etc ..
Rol then adds:
"I have defined the highest attribute conferred on the human person as an" intelligent spirit ". Unimaginable possibilities are transmitted to it by which, through a process of free choice, man is able to recognize himself in his own divine nature. Acting in this atmosphere, where harmony and moral sense cannot have alternatives, man, an authentic "procurator of God", is able to perform any miracle. This is the principle of eternity ".
This means that every event in the universe is recorded and stored in an eternal present, dimension, or rather a state accessible to those who have realized this "eternal present" within themselves. The events of the universe (or universes) are traces that remain in the mind of God just as memories are traces that remain in our memory. The "spirits", in their various gradations of complexity up to the "intelligent" ones, are precisely the traces, the memories, the cards of the cosmic archive, the "books of life" in the library of God. It will therefore be understood how in this perspective we are far from spiritualism, which by comparison is no more than a (bad) fairy tale.
Guerrilla Gardening is a group open to all, a group of green enthusiasts who have decided to positively interact with the urban space through small demonstrative acts, what we call green "attacks". Guerrilla Gardening actively opposes urban decay by acting against the neglect of green areas. The main activity of the group is to remodel and embellish, with plants and flowers, the flower beds and the abandoned or forgotten areas of the city. The movement was born in Italy in 2006 thanks to a group of young Milanese, founders of the group, who still follow and advise independent groups all over the world.
The city population responds well, some gardening companies help us with advice and giving us pro-cause plants and materials, others just applaud and appreciate our actions. Every day new "guerrillas" are added to our cause, to transform and re-appropriate the sterile and impersonal common spaces of the citizens. New groups are springing up in all the big cities. You too can become a Guerrilla-Gardener: document an attack and send us photos, you will be reported on our website!
Redevelop, beautify and bring color and plant life through plants and flowers in abandoned corners of the city with an unauthorized gardening activity. This is what is meant by guerrilla gardening. Unauthorized gardening attacks that, on publicly owned and privately owned but abandoned land, bring beauty and improvement to the environment.
In practice, the green guerrillas "appropriate" in the name of the community of abandoned public spaces, mortified by concrete and neglect to bring color, embellishment and decoration where it is missing. A phenomenon different from that of urban gardens that is practiced by people and for very different reasons, especially by environmental groups that refer to permaculture theories or to problems concerning land rights. Generally, groups of environmentalists take care of it and select the areas to be cultivated, also reflecting on the right to occupy and exploit the land.
In any case, it is a question, from the individual to the organized group, of non-violent protests that aim to recover the abandoned areas of the cities by planting and sowing shrubs, plants and flowers as in a real war complete with bombs - of seeds, however. And in fact, the various movements on their sites and social profiles explain how to make seed bombs or how to make sure that the chosen place is not risky both for the cultivation and for the "legality" of the action.
Guerrilla gardening persists whenever groups or individuals "secretly" plant fruit trees, or other perennial edible plants, or even simple flowers in parks, along cycle paths.
This form of gardening warfare carries behind the experience of Liz Christy, a young American citizen who in 1973, between the Bowery and Houston Street neighborhoods in New York, gave birth to a garden on an urban plot of land in state of abandonment. Today, that garden is still there: it is called Liz's Christy Community Garden and it is a lush and public space.
One of the best-known books is the book entitled Guerrilla Gardening published in 1983 by John F. Adams, which aimed to encourage gardeners to grow naturally occurring plant varieties instead of hybrid ones resulting from the artificial selection of companies. of seeds. Another book is that of Barbare Pallenberg, also entitled “Guerrilla Gardening”, who taught how to build a garden on a small budget.
Never get married as a lover. If you are in love, do not get married because in falling in love there is no sense of reality. Only when you have realized that next to you there is a wretch, a child or a neurasthenic, a hysteric, only when his defects are no longer funny, but hateful, then you will really love him. You have to know how to fight, know how to have different ideas and instead many live by making a living, swallowing toads. Relational well-being cannot decide on everything, because if not, the risk is that we proceed out of hypocrisy, that is to go ahead repressing what are our own truths. In fact, many live trying to avoid the defects of the other: I know that there are some things that I cannot say so that in front of a defect of the other I am in apnea waiting for it to pass and for one of its qualities to re-emerge. True love is that which knows no conditions, it is that which starts from attraction, passes through affinity and arrives at the intuition that there is something indissoluble between you. We all have this intuition and it is necessary to have it both. You don’t come to marriage to have an indissoluble relationship, but to put a seal on what you feel between yourselves as indissoluble.And do you know what leads us to love in a certain way and not in another? The pain we felt, that’s right. The times we felt invisible, the words that pierced us, the abandonments we suffered, the goodbyes we inevitably found ourselves saying, the deaths we had to witness, the insecurities we carry inside from time immemorial. So you see? How can you think that one wound can look like another? That we all have the same pain threshold? All that can be said about love is that vhi really loves does not enjoy spreading the edges of our wounds, does not wallow in it, does not cling to it. The rest, all the rest, is another story.I sit on the wall, squeeze my legs and look at my knees, to see some peeling, some bruising … Nothing. The ugly thing about broken hearts is this: that you can’t throw hydrogen peroxide on them and blow them while the bubbles walk on the wound, that you can only hold onto the pieces. And there are no operations and there are no medicines that can put them back together, you have to keep your heart broken like this. Maybe that’s good. Nobody deserves my frailty. It would be too easy to see a person who is always strong and smiling, but when the demons come out and there you really understand who you are in front of. I will continue to fight alone. It hurts to show yourself to others. It’s not worth it.I believe that the human being has animal behaviors, but also plant ones. The animal has cells that heal and close its wounds. However, if you cut a branch it does not grow again: a plant wound is definitive and the only thing we can do is cover it. This is why we find trees with cavities, inside which fungi are born that feed the trunk. In this sense, our heart behaves like vegetables. If you hurt it it doesn’t heal, and the wound stays open. What could happen is that new experiences cover that same wound with life
The problem of plastic is bigger and more important than we think and reducing plastic waste is essential. Plastic is not easy to recycle (it can only turn into a quality of plastic more ways than it once cannot be). Just think that only 6.6% of the plastic bottles now circulating on the world market are made from recycled plastic (Greenpeace data).
Giving up chewing gum is really a small thing that will work wonders! Although it is a habit brought by the Americans after the Second World War also in Europe, and now spread all over the world, the ‘butt’ is not good for you and contains plastic both inside and in the packaging.Do we eat out for lunch? We get into the habit of carrying our container and asking the fast food restaurant or restaurant where we go to put the food there. Maybe even what is left over we can take home in the same container!It’s true, they are comfortable: you go home in the evening and dinner is ready in 5 minutes. But beware: frozen foods are the ‘kings’ of plastic. By buying them, you actively contribute to polluting. By trying to remove frozen foods from your diet, you will return to a healthier cuisine with natural and seasonal ingredients, of which you know the origin, and you prefer organic food. Even if you take a quarter of an hour longer, you and the Earth will gain from this choice!To produce the disposable diapers consumed every year by American children, it takes 80,000 kg of plastic and the cutting down of more than 200,000 trees. This means that by simply switching to cloth diapers, you can not only educate your child to respect the environment from an early age but you can also save money and contribute to the health of the world.
I sit by the river, the sun is shining, the clouds dance to the rhythm of the music, the fish swim in a happy circle, the butterflies come out of the cocoon. I raise my head and my eyes cross the river and reach the other side. I see a girl crying in the middle of a swamp and crocodiles just waiting to devour her. I immediately took my bow and shot arrows at the crocodiles but they were too far away. Taken by anger, I reflected in the river and saw a transformation in me. I had become a yellow wolf with a red aura. The fish formed a platform and I crossed the river. The butterflies formed a silver-colored sword and the clouds became a shield. In a flash I swept the crocodiles away with my sword. But from the bushes a huge creature with huge jaws and a cuirass of quartz appeared. I took a step back and watched the girl sink. My aura turned into a golden breastplate and with fire in my eyes I threw myself at the creature. But it was too strong for me. At one point the girl threw me a lock of her hair and said: “tie it around the sword and it will help you defeat him”. As soon as I tied the lock the sword became crystal and there was a heart set inside. With my last strength left, I leapt towards the creature. He curled up to protect himself but the sword managed to break through his armor. The creature fell into the river groaning in pain. The water turned green and soon after it became a meadow full of flowers, including the swamp where the girl lay. Exhausted from the battle, I fell to the ground. The girl came up to me and gave me a kiss and I became human again. The girl told me: “it was a long time that that creature held me prisoner waiting for someone to help me. By now I had lost hope and I thought that my life was forever enveloped by this creature, instead you had the courage and you defeated it. Why did you risk your life for me? In the end, I’m a stranger to you. ” I looked into her eyes and said, “I have been wandering in the woods for a long time without a purpose. As soon as I saw you, the flame inside me took off and released my true being. Now I know why I was wandering. I was looking for you, my love. “She hugged me tightly and told me:” I dreamed of a wolf but I thought it was the evil that enveloped me, instead it was you, my love, now I will take care of you, I will heal your wounds and I will hold you close to me . “
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 