We create the world", I have heard and read this sentence in many videos and many articles.
They say reality is the projection of what everyone has inside.
But I honestly don't understand at all.
Inside me I have no hatred and violence and not even war, nor aggression and bad feelings.
I am a kind person, good affectionate, honest and sweet.
So why do I find myself in a world that is the complete opposite of me?
Now they are talking a lot about these multidimensional realities in which, scientists say, we live and which always vary and nothing is ever the same.
Instead it seems to me that everything has been the same for centuries, wars, the poor, hatred and violence. History repeats itself.
So what were you or I going to create out there?
Honestly, I don't like war or certain things and therefore I don't understand how they can be our inner projection.
The serenity.
Buddhists say reality is illusion, maya.
Ok but you get a bomb and you get hurt you feel it, you bleed, and if it's a complaint that's creating all this then we're all crazy.
I would like a beautiful joyful world full of flowers and serenity.
I want it and my mind doesn't?
It seems strange.
My mind works by following my will.
Or he makes his own and we know nothing about it.
Does the mind lie, someone says, that is?
Can't we even trust ourselves anymore?
I think life is too complicated today.
The peasants of the past were better off, they ate, slept, had children and that's it.
Now there is too much stress, too many things, too many obligations, and has life improved? No.
So many religions, so many salvific doctrines, so many philosophies of life we feel worse than ever.
We have come to war.
We can take all the breaks we want but after? We find the same things as before. If you take a drug you have 10 minutes of heaven ok, but after? Then you come back to the same crap.
And did we create it or did they?
The others? The ones we should love, who maybe don't even have a heart.
Did I choose to be abused? For what? To raise my astral spirit or reach Nirvana?
Some say suffering is necessary, that pain helps. Bah! They are bullshit. Pain destroys, devastates, and giving yourself candy by saying certain phrases seems so stupid to me.
Nothing is resolved.
Human beings are bad, let's face it.
There are people who are not like you and me.
Maybe they suffered other bad things and reacted negatively, dropping bombs and killing people.
But surely they are doing it their will and not mine or yours.
And if my mind creates this then it was better not to have a mind and be stone or leaf.
It is a small discomfort that comes when you realize that the world is not quite what we imagined as children. The world is false, mean, selfish, too big perhaps. You have to have the guts to get up in the morning and face it. Too many bad people, too many strangers ready to criticize you, too many people who pretend to know you and don't know you at all, but above all too many friends who stab in the back and few sincere people around. We must have courage to chase a dream with the fear that those who have more "chance" than us will steal it from us; and by possibility we mean neither mental nor physical, nor anything that has a positive meaning. It takes courage to just live in this world. With these people. There are few things that allow us to stay alive, to move, walk, dream .. and perhaps the very meaning of life is not so much to be fulfilled, as to find a stimulus every day to face the world .. and it is already a lot .
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?
Sometimes we can no longer see things for what they are. We lose the nature of awareness, our particular symptom that allows us to remember, see life as a whole, imagine perspectives or mental states. Also be aware of death. And it is precisely the ability to enter a world – the one we build ourselves, because “a dog lives in the world of a dog” – and in the position of others that confirms the importance of will: when we are in the throes of devastation of awareness, identity is very far away, and even being in memories struggles to recognize itself. I do not remember. If there is no longer the possibility of dialogue with the dimension through which to recover our truth, there can be no action. Because if “reality is a call to act”, man, emptied of the possibilities of the world, cannot recover movement. It also forgets the perception of one’s own freedom and that of others. Without the ability to imagine and overturn the senses of things we are lost individuals, at least at the level of consciousness. But we still manage to live. Oliver Sacks tells the case of a judge who, during the First World War, suffered a very serious injury to the frontal lobe: the trauma made him unable to feel emotions, to have a perception of himself and of the world, but it did not affect his intellectual faculties. . His profession, however, could no longer be exercised: the judge left the seat because he recognized that he no longer understood the motives of the others. What surrounds us can still tell us something, but we feel it without what the French call sensibilisation, which, as it happens, combines the two meanings of awareness and consciousness. Brain damage can give rise to David Hume’s philosophical chimera, namely being “a bundle or an accumulation of different sensations, which follow one another with unimaginable rapidity in perpetual flux and movement”. To experience how to lose the impressions of events and to feel that the sequence of numerous unrelated changes slip through the fingers: in Jimmie, another Sacks patient, they struggle – without his realizing it due to anosognosia – the emptiness and the miserable strength of identity, which survives the de-animation of the disease, Korsakoff’s syndrome. The power of our acting in reality is to overcome any kind of dissolution. There is certainly, in us, a place that can be taken care of, but without too many certainties. And the mind often is silent and limits itself to observing.
The world is becoming butchers and we ourselves are the butchers, what an absurd paradox! While we are intent on destroying the world to “work” we do not realize that we are losing the place to live, we do not realize that without water and oxygen we cannot live, instead we can very well without oil, but what matters Moreover? Nowadays, of course, oil. But do we realize that we are dying piece by piece? All, all of all ethnic groups, all colors, without any difference, from all social states, from all over the world. We are dying and we think about the differences we have between us instead of uniting everything that unites us to build, we are destroying and we don’t know how to think about anything else!And here I am, struggling with my classic panic attack, with my crises, crises that do not depend on what happens to me, but which depend solely and exclusively on my thousand fears and paranoia. Do you think I’m stupid? Unfortunately you are right, you are absolutely right. The doctor says that it is the coffees that fuel my state of perennial anxiety, but I don’t think it changes much (also because today I only drank a coffee). What leads me to stay like this is myself. For example right now I think I should try harder to build a future that is worth living, I think I should try to give less affection because it is often not reciprocated, I think I should have more time for myself, but then there I think back and conclude that probably I shouldn’t have any time for myself at all, I think I should satisfy the wishes of the people who love me, or maybe I should satisfy mine. I think I would like to be more independent from the world and I feel that I have not finished much, I think about the events that will happen, about the ones that I have seen in my vision and I am afraid that no one can imagine how terrible it will be. I think my heart is beating fast and I can hear it in my ears. I think I forget to breathe, I think it’s raining, I think if I don’t calm down it will get worse and worse. This is the problem: I THINK!We are human. No matter what we try to do to convince ourselves that this is not the case, we are this and we are wrong, but this is also normal. We are stubborn, we are sad and misunderstood, but we must live with ourselves and love each other, but above all forgive ourselves. We must give up, we must stop wanting to feel strong to protect ourselves from others, we are human: we suffer.It hurts to fucking feel vulnerable, but we are made of flesh and blood, the fact is that we are vulnerable. We are only human beings, we are only mere creatures, like other animals, we are only ourselves, and however much it hurts to accept it: the sooner we accept it and the sooner we forgive ourselves! WE FORGIVE OURSELVES.
We wrote, sang and danced and the inevitability of the black future was tangible. We looked too far away. We didn’t touch a drop, no substance but our minds were so full of things that we were unstoppable and unstoppable. At night we wandered into philosophical discussions and our intent was not to explain things but to express our experiences. We went to the most unknown alleys of Palermo, wandering in search of wonderfully unknown corners. We sighed l How can we expect a future that was invisible to us? We were our infinity.Have you ever been dead? Have you ever been alive? You have to take a tour of both worlds to choose one. And let it be the right one. Objectively it is not that that of the LIFE is much but since we are not given to know the other we are forced to stay in this. In fact, free will does not exist. It would exist if they showed us both worlds, like the red pill and the blue pill, and then they told us “ok now you can choose”. But if you don’t know the other side of life how do you choose? It is truly absurd to hear about choice and free will. No choice has ever been put before us but we have been forced to give the first wail to navigate this world called Earth And I don’t think many of us are happy with this unchosen coming into the world.
Sometimes I stop to think … I find myself lying on the mattress staring at the ceiling and reflect. I think a lot, maybe too much, and we know that too much is good, unfortunately it’s part of me and I just can’t avoid it, it’s as if it were an unconditional reflection. I think back to everything, everyone, I think back to everything that made me feel good but also to everything that made me suffer. Today I went to bed with tears in my eyes and a weight on my chest and I think it’s one of the most unpleasant sensations in the world, you know? When you just want to sleep and switch off your brain, but you get so sick that you just mull over what doesn’t work. I interpret it as psychological torture: to suffer for something, and to feel even more hurt after thinking about it intensely for hours. What an unpleasant feeling of oppression. Oppressed by their own feelings, rather than by people. It is strange to think how something apparently abstract, such as emotions, can alienate you from the totality of the world for an indefinite period of time. It’s almost scary to think we’re so vulnerable, but it’s part of life after all … If it were too simple, it probably wouldn’t be worth it.
One morning you wake up and just at the exact moment that fraction of a second just before setting your foot on the ground you understand what you really want, what are you willing to put up with and what not, what or who are you willing to put aside because the thing is to One way street… And everything that crushed you until the night before, made you sick becomes the past. Important and non-erasable part of your life, but past. Something you don’t want to hear anymore. There is a greater awareness of who we are and what we want. The road ahead will be long and often difficult, but having chosen ourselves for once and not others will make us feel better. People will never stop judging every step you take, without wondering why you are doing it, or for the person you are inside, they can only see what they want to see without really looking at you. You may be the coldest person on this planet, but do you really want to hide behind a mask to look strong? Is it really so important to show yourself for what you are not? Do you really think you are that strong? We all have weaknesses, fears, insecurities, but we are never alone. Someone tried to reach out to you to help you, why didn’t you take it? You think you can handle everything by yourself don’t you? But is not so. Nobody is alone in this world, you have to get help from someone, you can’t carry all the problems on your shoulders, friends, family, a point of reference, it helps not to keep all the load on your shoulders, let someone take a little ‘weight off your shoulders, you will feel lighter. For me, being strong is like an armor that over time, through mistakes and experiences, you learn to fortify. Being strong is also understanding, for example when a situation repeats itself several times, you learn to manage it and not feel bad about it, when people disappoint you several times, you learn to know how to behave should it happen again, without spending too much time cursing you. I do not consider myself a totally strong person, we all have moments when weakness makes us fall .. you are never completely strong, emotions are too strong feelings to make you feel “invincible”. I don’t always feel strong, it also depends on the topic, but I try.
Feminism’s most powerful tool for transmitting the message was surely art, in all its forms. It is true that women were present in art history both as artists and models, but only the latter is widespread and offers plenty of information, while the former barely stands ground. It was the men who painted women, often objectifying and misinterpreting them, and the topic seems to be more than recurrent.
While there’s no doubt some of them are world’s greatest artworks, it was time to bring to light also the achievements of women in the field, and to do it now.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 