Responsabilitatea mea principal este sa fiu prezent in viata mea. Sa imi asum lucrurile pe care le-am facut. Sa fiu prezent in corpul meu, sa simt emotiile si senzatiile ce trec pe acolo. Sa ma fac auzit, sa imi cer dreptul la spatiu pentru a ma face auzit chiar si cand trebuie sa spun ca imi pare rau, chiar si cand simt vina, chiar si cand sunt aproape convins ca nu voi fi inteles sau ca mesajul meu nu va fi inteles. Poate ca nu va fi inteles pe loc, dar cu timpul, cu context, cu credinta, un sens comun tot va capata.
Poate ca familia mea nu e cea mai buna la a asculta. Poate nici vechii prieteni, nici viitorii, si poate in general noi oamenii nu prea stim sa ascultam. Dar responsabilitatea mea este sa ma fac auzit, indiferent cum suna.
Poate ca orasul asta stupid e plin de oameni plini de frica plini de mecanisme care sa nege frica ceea ce doar o trezeste pe-a mea. Dar responsabilitatea mea este sa ma fac auzit. Sa spun tare, raspicat ce vreau.
Poate ca totul o sa mearga prost. Poate ca totul o sa fie bine. Asa a fost intotdeauna. Si cand evadam in fantastic, si cand lucram in banal. Dar si banalul e plin de magie, imi faceam griji degeaba. Universul e tot acolo, doar ca in loc sa vorbesc despre el, acum vorbesc cu el. Multe s-au schimbat. De cand m-am lasat de droguri mi-am dat seama cate alte dependente subtile ma guverneaza, programate de nevoi neimplinite ale copilului interior sau chiar programate de sistemul de operare numit cultura. In plus le vad peste tot la oameni noi cu care interactionez sau oameni pe strada in modul in care interactioneaza intre ei.
Ce mai e nou? Pai spun „da” cand simt ceva, in loc de „nu”. Beau apa si respir oxigen. Vorbesc cu plante si animale. Ofer respect ciclicitatii lucrurilor. Nu-mi uit ideile. Meditez, fac yoga, alerg, petrec timp de calitate cu mine si invat valoarea odihnei. Ascult ganduri in loc sa gandesc ganduri. Nu mai vad atatea filme, nu mai ascult atata muzica, nu ma mai privesc atata in oglinda sau in ferestrele masinilor (desi toata lumea stie ca acelea te reflecta cel mai aratos). Invat sa cer ajutorul dintr-un spatiu al asumarii. Invat sa fiu prezent in viata mea. Nu mai e necesar sa vad magie ca sa stiu ca exista magie.
What a piece of work is a man
how noble in reason,
how infinite in faculties,
in form and moving how express and admirable,
in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god,
the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!
And yet to me what is this quintessence of dust?
–Hamlet, II. 2
“And still, after all this time,
The sun never says to the earth,
“You owe Me”
Look what happens with
A love like that.
It lights the Whole Sky”
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other”
doesn’t make any sense.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.”
by Marcia Lee Anderson
We multiply diseases for delight,
invent a shameful want, a horrid doubt,
luxuriate in license, feed on night,
make inward bedlam — and will not come out
Why should we? Stripped of subtle complication,
who could regard the sun except with fear?
This is our shelter against contemplation,
our only refuge from the plain and clear.
Who would crawl out from under the obscure
to stand defenseless in the sunny air?
No terror of obliquity so sure
as the most shining terror of despair
to know how simple is our deepest need,
how sharp, and how impossible to feed.
If Ernest Becker’s idea about the denial of death is true, then religion is a mechanism to avoid the angst that is knowing one will die. An explanation for why groups of people of different religions (culture, whatever) over the history get in conflict is this: I’m a self-conscious Christian aware of my mortality. My God tells me I’m more than that and I will live forever. My God must be true. You’re a brutal filthy Viking. Odin? You must be mad and will probably burn in hell. Your God can’t be true as it would mean mine is false and I burn in hell? Yeah, right. No, Sir. No, Lord. At the very least my God is better than yours and I will prove it by kicking your ass. Sheldon Solomon and 2 co-researchers had some interesting findings. They discovered that no matter what ethnicity or religious operating system people were into, when reminded of their own mortality they tended to hate more a different religious group, by either being more open towards bombing another country, or by preferring that particular group not to move to their neighborhood. And they were more convinced of their religious paradigm. Atheists reacted the same way to the stimulation of unconscious anxiety about death, just as much as fellow theists. Actually, it seems that Buddhists were the least affected by it. More research is needed, you can imagine. But if all this is true, there could be a way in which religion can “save” us, or help us, and I feel like it is not that farfetched from the realm of possibility, actually, it looks like we are heading towards it. I believe it is by coming up with a story that unites us globally, universally. And it is with the return to the individual, with looking inside and feel empowered by the knowledge that you are God, and everyone else, everything around you is also God.
~ Psychopomps (from the Greek word ψυχοπομπός, psuchopompos,
literally meaning the “guide of souls”) are creatures, spirits, angels, or deities in many religions whose responsibility is to escort newly deceased souls from Earth to the afterlife.
Stretch your wrinkles and your riddles and see.
Become it. Let be.
Between the Worthing and Newhaven shining Bright,
one will be twin.
The other will go and play with form,
but in every speck of dust the wind enacts,
history will break the mask and he’ll remember to forgive.
Be brave and give.
Give in, and Out returns the favor.
The ground rocks reflect into my walking eyes –
“the happening occurs not! in a one-man show” – one step.
And like I promised, I will be right back.
The space in between the twins.
Underneath these words is all that matters.
The beautiful words that the All matters out into existence
are for you to find your way in.
In the next play, you can sing them back to us,
and we’ll all dance until it stops.
~ Satyam shivam sunduram – The Truth, The God and The Beauty