Your words, clear and clear in appearance, stun me. Maybe I'm the one who heard wrong, maybe you really said it, but I still can't believe it. I finally find the courage to ask you to repeat. "Four weeks" is the answer that, immediately, materializes on my temple like sweat that slides along the entire length of my profile, up to the neck, exhausting itself on the collar of my khaki shirt. You look down, but you look happy.
Now, listen to me because I'm not capable of being as good as you, smiling from the other end of the table, and not brave enough to repeat myself. Turn off. Put out the spark that burns in your belly, which in another eight months will ignite the projects we had of our lives reducing them to miserable ashes. Drown her in the bitter tears of a mother's ghost, let her not follow into this world. It is not to sadden you or to extinguish your hopes, but for your own good. "Mom" and "Dad" are not the nicknames for us, moody and distracted, who barely make ends meet. Would you say that my son could ever feel loved in my calloused hands and your soiled with paint? Would you say that his eyes are the same blue as your oil paints and his voice resembles the notes of my guitar? Would you ever say that we could be up to the task entrusted to us? I tremble for another split second when I realize I've already called him my son. I realize that I love him, out of nowhere, that I have given him a role in our future. Just as I would like to be able to see if it is as I imagined it, if it will derive order from chance, if it will make knowledge of our inexperience and of its own life as art, if light will flow from an incendiary spark.
"We will have a baby," I say in a faint voice that dies in my throat, suppressed by emotion.
The inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person. Not having to hide your thoughts or measure your words, but expose yourself for what you are. Pros and cons together, knowing that a faithful hand will grab and sift them, keeping what is worth holding, and then, with a gentle blow, blow the rest away.
Night the cloak of darkness envelops your world no mercy for your fragile hopes. Thoughts yield to the illusion of new eyes of different eyes, of a different point of view. The rhythm slows down transformed into a base note. Aphonic sounds pierce the atavistic enemy silence. You try to understand what it will be like tomorrow but it is already tomorrow.
Dark and Light were children of mother Nature and father Universe. Two brothers, then, but they didn't look alike at all. Luce was cheerful, joyful, and always happy. Dark, on the other hand, was gloomy and sad. Light used bright colors and Dark only knew black. They were really different but they had one thing in common: they both loved children so much. Light was very loved and well-liked by them and Dark? No, he didn't, on the contrary he scared them and the more they got scared the more he suffered. His greatest desire was to be able to watch over the sleep of children, to be able to enter their rooms and be close to them all night. In fact, once he tried but it was a disaster: he went to find two children who were already in their cots. The first, as he saw him, began to scream and call his mother who chased him away by turning on a light bulb ... even that made light ... Dark then he tried with a little girl, he went into the bedroom but ... here is a deafening scream so loud that he was so frightened that he ran away. These had been the experiences of poor Dark ... it was really sad, no child wanted it. Light, one day she came up to him and asked him why he was always so sad. He told her about his misadventures, then concluded by saying:
"... If at least you could give me some of your light ..."
"Dear brother, I can't give you my light, but you don't have to be sad, do you know that you are very important?"
" For real ?"
"Of course, if I were there all day people would not be able to sleep and to recover their strength they would not be able to dream, the fireworks could not be done, the owls and the owls would not go out to eat, you would not see the fireflies ..so, you see how important you are? And if you want some light talk to the Moon, it will surely help you."
Dark felt relieved and less sad ran to the Moon and asked her if she could help him by giving him some of her light ...
"Not even I can give you my light but I can help you anyway, I will come with you, I will also tell the stars and together we will form the Night and only thanks to you everyone will be able to admire us in the sky ... with the light this will not it could have happened."
Dark's joy reached its peak when one evening he heard a child say: "Mom, I'm not afraid of the dark, he's my friend, and every night he cuddles me before going to sleep". Finally Dark knew happiness.
I divided the sky in two,
blind and dark visions,
colored petals attached to black bombs,
flower thunderstorms over the sea.
I took a ground weapon, disturbing a nuclear casket, making high-pitched sounds so as not to scare the birds.
Flying over the torment of tears, treasures of light,
opened in little drops of love.
Short words.
Distorted.
Any fate
has its own medal.
The absence left by Godot,
window among bare trees,
I have chaos, calamity, on my skin.
Two washers too many,
inside the walking theater.
I am free.
I'm proud.
I'm in the sky!
( ITALIAN RHYMING VERSION)
Ho cosà diviso il cielo in due, ciechi e visioni oscure, petali colorati attaccati a bombe nere, temporali di fiori sul mare. Ho preso un’arma di terra, disturbando uno scrigno nucleare, emettendo suoni acuti per non spaventare gli uccelli. Volando sopra il tormento delle lacrime, tesori di luce, dischiusi in piccole gocce d’amore. Parole corte. Distorte. Ogni sorte ha la sua medaglia. L’assenza lasciata da Godot, finestra tra alberi spogli; ho il caos, la calamità , addosso alla pelle. Due rondelle di troppo, dentro il teatrino ambulante. Sono libero. Sono fiero. Sono nel cielo!
Arcane structure of the cosmos
Immense evolutions of species
And I, with my vague impression
of the indeterminate,
of anxieties, thoughts,
of the perplexities made visions,
I collect my data
of the soul, the secrets,
of my hidden and unacknowledged dreams.
And I look for fixities made of stones.
I look for balance and poor food.
Oh light that the universe sets
dissolve my anxieties to certainties.
Free expression.
of this conscience of mine.
I would like to shout to the cosmos
with my broken voice
when I am sand in the desert
my mother's name
and stand by her.
I only ask this and I am happy.
We must never forget that even the Shadow is interior, it is not something that objectively exists out there, and when it has dissipated within us, it will also recede into the world. The more people have access to the new state of consciousness, the harder it will be for the dark side to maintain control over the territory. At first they will impose more and more liberticidal measures, almost compulsively, but at a certain point they will have to let go of those who no longer resonate with their vibration.Everything that “the monster” does to demolish the light ultimately only strengthens the light. Each path by which he attempts to annihilate the power of the Heart only creates a direct confrontation. The Shadow has a purpose. It affects you in your frailties, stimulates pain, disturbs you so that you become aware of your value. In the end it does not die, but it dissolves. It integrates by giving back to you what you deserve. This is why it is not the lukewarm and fearful who are saved, but those who rebel against their fears. For this reason the Righteous has nothing to do with the do-gooder. Courage is in your Shadow. In the illusion of separation, that’s the only thing you have to deal with.Love, my dear love, I know you close to me … with your beautiful face. If you change your name, accent, heart and age, it will certainly be your face that will not betray me. The eyes of your face, love, have for me the patient light of the stars … of the night, of the sea, of islands without stopovers, I fear nothing if you will be there to recognize me. My love, from far away, for you, I have perhaps come. And God knows where we will go now? How long have you been looking for my vanished shadow? When did I lose you? In what life? What would heaven dare against us now?
Dream big, they say, aim for the stars. And then they lock us up for 12 years and tell us where to sit, when to pee and what to think. Then we turn eighteen and without ever having our thoughts, we have to make the most important decision of our life.I always look for the sun beyond the clouds. I give smiles because I don’t know how to stay angry for too long. I have large and transparent eyes where my emotions are easily read. I learned to resist even when I was the only one who believed it. I can’t help but be there, I always put all of myself into it. I’m not one who gives up, I fall and stumble but I always get up. As a child I wanted to be a princess but life taught me to fight and I became a warrior. I wear armor and hide all my fears. I keep dreaming, chasing shooting stars, making wishes. Because I have a heart of sugar and marzipan, of stars and candies, a heart that is perhaps too delicate but, after all, giving love is never wrong. I’m just trying to be all the best I can, even if it’s hard sometimes because I never feel enough. I who love too much, with an overflowing love. I who always believe in love, even when it hurts.It is difficult to stay close to me, I am demanding. I have a contagious laugh and an irrepressible cry, my eyes are full of stars and my drawers are full of dreams, I have scars in my soul and spring in my heart. If I get hurt I break into a thousand pieces and yet I know how to be strong because if I fall I get up on my own. I am always ready to stumble over some mistakes and to collect mistakes. But I prefer to hurt myself rather than hurt those I love. I am insecure, moody, indomitable. I need attention, hugs and caresses. I am made of sun and clouds, of tears and smiles. I am melancholy, restless, impetuous, overwhelming. I often take refuge in my dreams and my silences. Sometimes I feel like running away but in the end I stay. I always stay. Because those like me when they love have no brakes, no barriers, no limits. Those like me are made of heart and soul. Those like me if they love they stay, they don’t run away. Even when love hurts, even when wounds hurt, even when tears fill the eyes, even when bruises on the heart take your breath away.I have had so many difficult moments in my life, black moments where I forgot even the existence of colors. I hit rock bottom, I went down into the abyss. I’ve been sick, a lot. But then I got stronger, got up and threw everything behind me. Step by step I started walking again, sometimes in the rain, sometimes with skinned knees, yet I made it. All the strength I need is within me, I just have to remember to look for the rainbow. I want to color my soul and find a smile again because a woman never gives up and always finds the courage to look forward and start over. I went through storms learning to swim on my own, I didn’t give up and again saw the sun’s rays behind the clouds and bright stars illuminating the night. I still carry within me that shy and insecure little girl of many years ago but now I have become stronger and I have learned that everything in life passes, sooner or later. And you can always start over, just believe it, just want to, just don’t give up.
There is a suggestion that can be helpful when entering the quagmire of inner awakening, namely "behaving as if "
Act as if you are already the person you want to become.
Think as if you were already made of those thoughts.
Feel like you already have those emotions.
It is not a positive aspect of being to wear new masks as a replacement for the first ones, but it is functional when you use them to approach your life in a direction of improvement and responsibility.
Always consider that what you emanate you receive.
Playing a role is a new signal for the mind to follow. Striving in everyday life to recite the vision of yourself that you want to be is a commandment that becomes automatic over time. The moment you are determined to give your best, and you do, satisfaction also increases. The unconscious at that point re-elaborates groups of beliefs, expanding new vibrations.
Let us not delude ourselves into resolving everything as if you were a Hollywood actor, this is just a step, it has nothing to do with the creation of a witness or self-observation.
But it is a start.
Something that, before standing there to declare warriors of light, could be done.
How can anarchy be controlled? The primordial flow where the reason is lost. Where many fall few have really tried. It is not science, nor speculation, it is from the heart that everyone can be right. It is never too late to say otherwise, it is the fruit of the past, it is just a sunk cost. So don’t wait for disaster, question yourself, find out who you are and then that’s the direction. Do not look in the dark, it hides nothing, the means and resources are in the open, just find them. And let’s stop with the pity, it’s never too late to “start over”. We need to remove the heavy burdens and embark on the journey, the road is long so it is inevitable not to lose sight of the goal. Let’s forget about the ego, it is a mirror that alters perception, a crazy mechanism that makes us go wrong. The true Self is within us, we leave the healing power to ourselves, we are powerful tools of will and persuasion. And if it is true that Thought always dominates, it is really time to teach it and start dreaming, laughing and playing. At a certain point, changing your lifestyle is a choice, an obligation and a duty. Revolutionize to believe, conquer your orbit and start spinning. Harmony belongs to the Universe and there is no real center, the trick is in balance, we are potentially all in the winner’s chariot. The true Rebel defeats the old Self, only to be reborn and blossom like a flower.
I met the Dalai Lama personally, in my not recent past. I was inside a church of I don't know what religion and the Dalai Lama himself started a very energizing meditation with his Ohm, then repeated by everyone present, and imagine so many ohms in a huge church, it was a wave of pure energy. Well, all of this hasn't changed my life. Then I learned that China had attacked Tibet and the monks had been defeated. The monks meditate every day, what did they do wrong since their meditation caused nothing but pain and their corner of peace was destroyed? Wasn't the inner scent strong enough? What went wrong? Did Christ and his disciples also meditate through prayers and parables and what was the result? Crucified Christ and persecuted disciples. The way of spiritual love is full of slain martyrs. Would it have been different if they had rebelled? My Tai Chi master once explained to me that martial aces are not used to do violence to others but if someone attacks you you have every right to defend yourself. Defense with the hands, with the stick, with the sword ... A weapon. Preserving life is a legitimate direction of our nature. Keep it at any cost. So if someone tells me that all the evil that is happening can be overcome with the thought I am sorry but I cannot share because I have touched the energy of thought with my hand and I am sorry to say it but it does not move the mountains. Instead the actions yes. In fact, for example in Christianity we say ok to prayers but these must be followed by actions. I personally have been among the "Food for Life" volunteers who bring food to the homeless. Why don't you eat with thought, unfortunately, and wars cannot be won with thought, unfortunately. We need to meditate but also to act. Act to make good win. Take action to stop this destruction. Meditating and saying mantra is fine but afterwards you must also act because actions change a situation. We are many to write, create, dance and spread light but we must also take action in Defense otherwise nothing will remain of this Light.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 