IT

To see everything, great or tiny, as IT:
Totally and indistinctly. 

Oh, the consequences: 
No destinations left. Nothing to strive for. Nothing to compare. 
That non-distinctive bliss – LOVE – is the Alfa and Omega. 

Once you are IT, you can do and achieve no matter what. And reap great Joy. And success. With no effort, but with ease. Again, cause you are already IT…

Advertisements

A token of gratefulness

We don´t know each other well. She owns the coffee shop I go to. She offered me a delicious coffee and juice for free the other day, and I felt like thanking her for her sweet generosity.

The moment she laid eyes on me, she asked: 

“What is it you have there?…”

This baffling feminine intuition. How could she know?… – She felt it was for her before I had a chance to even utter a word:
I had bought the most tasty cherries and she smiled pleased while I handed the bag to her. Her “thank you” sounded so winsome and so bashful somehow, as if is she was talking to the air…

Wondrous scene…Wondrous girl…

When I look at her, I see something, yet I know not what I see…

She’s wild but fragile
Crazy but tender
Unpredictable yet giving
A child but a prophet
Three times a woman
Other times a voice with no song

She keeps smiling behind her sun glasses
And when she takes them off,
All shadows gracefully wither…

Life – the impossible equation

…Equation which changes its data – that is, its solution – every single moment. “Ready-made-s”, all “viable” patterns, mainstream thinking, not only do not help you figure out the right answer, but lamentably prevent you from grasping this supreme reality:

Namely, that Truth is not a fixed point, but a vivid reality. Ever-changing. Imponderable. Unpredictable. So the stake is childishly simple. Or perplexingly complex:

Either you take the risk of renewing yourself, disavowing certainty, or you will live inertially – that is, dead…

The prison of your making

For the one who has lived his life as a convict – that is, in the exclusive straits of his ideas -, Freedom – which has naught to do with thinking – will seem pure absurdity to him.

The Holy Feast in Mykene

Racontando