Thursday, December 29, 2011
When you stop writing, stories stop coming to you. Is a strange law, I have been thinking about what to write here and earlier I never had such a dilemma. Maybe I am thoughtless but certainly there are many things that I can share. Today, with an amazing clarity I sensed that all life, every interaction and every thing we see is like a huge 80 mm screen, where we are watching life unfold. The only mistake we make is we get too engrossed. All that happens is better observed from a distance.
Reacting is validating the negative, which actually does not exist. This is what sages have been warning us about,is very obvious actually, the way people just leave the plane should be enough for humans to grasp how ephemeral this existence is, yet the bittersweet taste of life is such that we stop living, fixed in trance, stuck in past. It is mostly hazy and I loose many days to sadness, self pity and doubt, but today the fact came to me quiet gently, almost settling over my being like a silken veil. I enjoyed the peace and calm of being an observer. Nothing touches you when you allow the truth to embrace you. You are present yet you are not there struggling in the moment, but far above somewhere viewing the whole drama unfold in the peace of morning blossoms and dripping dew. As the new year knocks on your door I wish that you are blessed with peace.
Terse words like poisoned arrows
Embedded in memory flesh
Fester, turning morbid green
And then you muster lies
To hide behind the anger
Covered in guilty slime
I forgive, yet you scrape the wounds
Exposing the salt of sadness
I struggle with the broken arrow
Bathed in blood of innocence
Don't hound me with your guilt
disguised as anger, I have forgiven
Accept that and let me be...