Friday, March 27, 2015

March Mantra

You're depressed cause you're not doing what you're supposed to be doing.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Hope Inspires the Good to Reveal Itself

"Most of us have figured out that we have to do what’s in front of us and keep doing it… Every time we choose the good action or response, the decent, the valuable, it builds, incrementally, to renewal, resurrection, the place of newness, freedom, justice…

We live stitch by stitch, when we’re lucky. If you fixate on the big picture, the whole shebang, the overview, you miss the stitching. And maybe the stitching is crude, or it is unraveling, but if it were precise, we’d pretend that life was just fine and running like a Swiss watch. This is not helpful if on the inside our understanding is that life is more often a cuckoo clock with rusty gears.

[…]

A great truth, attributed to Emily Dickinson, is that “hope inspires the good to reveal itself.” This is almost all I ever need to remember. Gravity and sadness yank us down, and hope gives us a nudge to help one another get back up or to sit with the fallen on the ground, in the abyss, in solidarity."


Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Then and Now, Now and Then


The virtue of this city happens to be found in its vice. Rain. Brussels rain, accompanied by an inescapable cold for the soul. A bearable monotony. Bearable by virtue of pacifying you into accepting it.
The Sun is nowhere to be seen, and it feels like the length of the buildings in front of the window elongate the breeze of monotony. The water slowly dripping from a metal bar right in front of the window resembles a cat sitting still, gazing at its prey, then suddenly jumping out at it. These drops are the only things that startle the passive eye which allows this gloomy, silent picture to engulf it in its demonic stillness.
A constant, bearable wait. Waiting for a call to action. Looking for a heroic way to break out of the monotony, to break the ice that separates the frozen from the moving. The distance between static and dynamic is probably the longest. A decisive move that would set everything in motion… A cold engine that would suddenly start, leaving the driver who forgot how to drive utterly consternated.
 A question arises: what then? If we wait and let the wait weigh us down into a complete, ungodly immobility, how will we be prepared to face the call to action? We remember vaguely, in an intangible past, a voice telling us move, budge, push your gears. But when we came to the realization that the voice was outdated, that there is new machinery, that we are the new machinery, we ceased to listen to the voice urging us towards efficiency. We realized we are a better, upgraded version of our parents and we decided to take that knowledge to the grave. And with a pride. But missing the motivation to spin our gears out of lack of external movement, we decide that our inactivity is excusable, and we retire in a world of temporary comfort and self-delusion.
But the rain knows. The raindrop that suddenly drops, startling our peripheral vision, is the call to action. The same rain that once pacified us will soon shift poles and jump at the prey that stopped noticing it.
In the collective conscience, only one question arises: what then? The ones who ignore this question and treat it as an annoying pop-up will realize the graveness only when it will be too late.

The end is not near. The end is now. The one who truly realizes this, his conscience doesn’t ask “what then?”; it asks “what now?” 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

February Mantra

Everything you do reveals what you seek.

Clarity

"Obscurity and vagueness of expression are at all times and everywhere a very bad sign. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred they arise from vagueness of thought, which, in its turn, is almost always fundamentally discordant, inconsistent, and therefore wrong. When a right thought springs up in the mind it strives after clearness of expression, and it soon attains it, for clear thought easily finds its appropriate expression. A man who is capable of thinking can express himself at all times in clear, comprehensible, and unambiguous words. Those writers who construct difficult, obscure, involved, and ambiguous phrases most certainly do not rightly know what it is they wish to say: they have only a dull consciousness of it, which is still struggling to put itself into thought; they also often wish to conceal from themselves and other people that in reality they have nothing to say."
- Arthur Schopenhauer

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Cloud

As the night sky's moon-lit clouds
Do soar above the valleys
They chime blue thunder strikes
Revealing burdens they carry.

Under these moon-lit giants
(Keepers of Heavens and Hells)
Dwells Fallen Man in his kingdom
Overwhelmed by the luminous bells.

He walks alone in the darkness
Reaching forth with his power of thought
Behind him come black avalanches
Caused by the pains he has brought.

And buried, he shall be forever
By his own hand, his own accord
Lest he use his last effort
To grab on to the light like a cord.

It strikes, and does painfully so
But through pain alone can man vanquish
No other escape than to hope
That the forms that he follows won't perish.

The cloud of Eternity silently marches
Through winds of despair or of glory
For outside is but the form
That always follows what's holy.

On his freedom-burdened path, man
Walks like a stranger befuddled;
Though knowing deep down he is one with the Whole
He stumbles into amnesic eternity.

Sad as it seems, it's never too late
For man to look up and see that the Clouds
That so graciously slid a rope of bright light
Await for the moment he's had his last doubt.

Monday, December 15, 2014

Fragment

I can feel my cells tingling in a frenzy of confusion and longing for your presence, because your absence got them scattered across galaxies looking for you. I feel distant from myself without you. I’m not here.
But when I’m confined in your eyes, I feel freer than in any conceivable utopia. I allow your gaze to consume my flame because I know that I have to keep your soul warm. This is just a preparation – an exercise. We are evaporating symbols of the fog that haunts us in our deepest sleep. It’s confined in dreams we don’t remember, because we’re too busy deafening ourselves with music that seduces and sedates us into non-being. We are the result of a long, hard battle fought against ourselves, and for millennia, we’ve been barely winning.
Here, stay here, or I will reel you in with question marks. I eat up my syllables hoping to grow wiser. You’re the only one I’ve Found.

I’m the lava that decided to breathe, knowing it will freeze by doing so. Its only relief is that it passes on its heat into something that solidifies as an eternal statue, transcending its yell of defiance and reaching the bliss it could never have in its state of unstirred passion before its release.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Love Confined This Spider to Freedom

Midnight caught me at my desk listening to Latin American music, looking at your beautiful big purple crystal for inspiration. Rene Ferrer is singing, and Picasso’s Old Guitarist on my wall is playing his guitar in a spontaneous rush of ecstasy.
Love can’t be counted. Lies are counted.
Love is felt. And the world knows nothing of what that feeling means to me.
That is why I write. You – my tangible mirror. Found me and grabbed me into your universe. I felt your touch and it confined my prison.
It made me wake up (not then, but it happened now, as I’m writing this; still a consequence of that touch!) to the fact that right now, I’m only writing drafts. The images I’m conjuring in my passion are but archetypes with a few webs sown between them. The writing – its external form – is the web (still in its youth). Each word that describes an image is an end of the web, a knot.
To he who has never loved: Behold thy sin! Your heart is free of you! It runs away from your illusions and awaits you at the end of the tunnel you keep on building.
If you want to find it, look behind the web.

Friday, November 28, 2014

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Advice for a friend

Q:  How can one know that one is evolving, in any sphere - spirituality, mysticism, being a nice person, achieving something etc. ?

A: You're always evolving. The matter comes down to how you interpret the processes of your evolution. What I mean by that is, everything in your life is an evolution, because life itself is a becoming, and each moment is a "becoming", where the only important factor is YOUR free will, how you choose to perceive that moment, regardless of the positive or negative appearance of the moment. "The problem is not the problem, the problem is how you choose to react to the problem."
So you can track your evolution by seeing if you react wisely to each situation presented to you on a day-to-day basis. Always remember that each moment is a lesson, a "test" if you will. And if you pass the test, you evolve, if you don't, the test is rescheduled and you're given more preparation time.