Friday, 15 August 2014

The crack is open.

In order to stop feeling like (messy, incapable) victims and become (humble) heroes of our (wonderful) lives, we need to (have the courage to) acknowledge that we fell victim to something or someone (have you?). 

Failing to do so, perpetuates the suffering, the imprisonment, our (fine-tuned) ability to cling on to what hurts.

If we succeed to acknowledge (and embrace) our suffering, we can crack the code to access (and discover) the (magnificent) path to peace, to healing, to love, to liberation.

To enter this path, that is a (tough) choice.  Never forget that with healing comes the pain of letting go.

This is a simple short-cut, right?

BUT - here's the thing:

There might be many causes to the (bizarre, unfair) burdens of life. And admit it, at some moments, they are purely imaginary ("between your ears" like the Dutch say).

Whatever way you put it, there is (absolutely) no excuse for blaming others for your (stubborn) misery. Even more so, they are not responsible (at all) for your (not-so-clever choice of) self-victimisation.

And yes, of course, you can be(come) mad.

Mad.  As in being mad at someone.

Mad. As in feeling madness. About beauty.

Mad and mad. Because both shit and (ever more so) beauty, randomly and inevitably happen.


Mad. As in losing your mind, when it feels like an eternity while we forget that it's temporary.

Mad. Mad. Mad.

As in (wow-oh-wow) madly in love.

S/he who claims immunity to being mad (whatever the form) is either

(ever oh-so) fake or

simply (and sadly) dead.

YET - No one.  No one else controls our (pro)(re)(anti) actions but our very own self.

SO - Here's my note to my (alas, at times egocentric) self:

Never hold someone accountable for your weakness. If you do, you give him or her unlimited power to weaken you ever more. You are the only one in command to transform the (sore) impact of their actions into (swift and loving) inner strength.

For that you don't need a sword.

Remember. Only you can.

Hold onto what gives you (that extra punch of) energy.

You need to feel. To breath. To live.

To love (yourself).

Never hold anyone accountable for your (lack of) empowerment, if (in your eyes) the only thing they (seem to) do is to project their anger and sufferings on you.

The only one allowing this projection  to happen is you

Yes. You.

If in doubt, ask the mirror until you hear yourself say

"You are divine. You are beautiful. You are human".

Don't forget that.

Trust who truly (and unconditionally) believes in you (even when you fuck it up - big time).

Never deny that whomever ever made you feel like (a worthless piece of) shit at some moment, has offered you a golden (and often rare) opportunity:

To access the crack that reveals (the essence of) your (ever so gracious) power.

No matter how ugly their words or their actions, judge soundly.

But not without compassion (don't let way to prejudice, you're way wiser than 'that').

Always acknowledge (and cherish) that every person or circumstance that crosses your path is a gift (of life).

For life.

Whatever that person or moment brings, explore it with (ever so curious) attention.

Big chance is that it's a (tiny hidden) gem offering you diamonds for every (precious) lesson.

So here's a wise short-cut for my early sabbatical ramblings:

If life pains you, confuses you or inconveniences you, try to remember the (mantra-like) words of my dearest friend and colleague Zah Kahar.  She has said these words to me many times (did I say many???):

"You never know, it might be a BLESSING in disguise".

AND SO I gather my courage. I undress myself from these old ragged skin which made me a victim. 

I am now ready to embark in an brand new quest for peace, for healing, for love, for liberation. 

The crack is open. Let this pilgrimage begin.

Saturday, 1 March 2014

The beauty of my spotless eyes.


My mind tiptoes into assaulting memories. 

I hide my words and bite my tongue. 

(Remembering like this needs silence). 

But my hands take a life of their own, 
they dance with my stubborn heartbeat, 
and scratch blank pages with vivid dreams. 

Those precious moments that are just gone, 
almost unannounced: 

To love, to cry, 
to win, to lose, 
to surrender to beauty 
as it becomes the pupils 
of my sad eyes. 

But oh, 

how could I not be grateful 
for having lived so many dreams? 
in company, in solitude, 
with lovers, with strangers, 
with you, my love, 
my sweet friend? 

Do you remember how 
I loved you, how I cried with you, 
won you once, was stubborn, 
and then surrendered? 

I lost you. 

Still, your beauty is all 
my spotless eyes see, 
without ever shedding a tear 
nor a single shadow 

of regret.

Thursday, 13 February 2014

White canvas

I welcome the white canvas. 

May the reason why 
we paint on it 
be our humble wisdom, 
our loving inner light. 

May the colours 
that we choose 
be the landscape 
of your truth and mine. 

The future is empty, 
the past is gone. 

But we are still here, 
holding our hearts, imagining 
the many shapes of hope, 
as the first brushstrokes unfold. 

I welcome our blank canvas. 

What its vastness becomes, 
is yet 
to be 

(Originally published in Smith).

Tuesday, 11 February 2014

Quiet and colourful

Lovers and northern lights, by Paul Bloomer

Impossible to lie when the answer lies in my heart. 

Impossible not to scream and cry, 

and beg compassion not to abandon. 

And that is when my love overflows anger and sorrow, 

and expands like a clear sky 

opening to kindness, to the *light* 

until all is quiet 

and colourful. 

(Originally published in Smith).

Monday, 10 February 2014

Haiku for the mist

Mist by Nakazawa Hiromitsu 1907

Through the mist I walk.

The long longed peace embraces me.

We blend. We are one.