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Happy Birthday Amitabh! Take care and be happy.
LOVE,
Thelma
Addiction without Borders
Very interesting story this morning on NPR radio by Soraya Sarhaddi Nelson about the rapid spread of drug addiction in war torn Afghanistan. Given the trauma many Afghans suffered… it is not at all surprising that many are turning to drugs to numb and self sooth. It’s absolutely heart breaking and sobering to be reminded that the “gift” of addiction is being handed down from one generation to the next…For the complete story please go to http://www.npr.org
i want to share with u some thoughts that had transpired in my mind today morning during my meditation…… i was reading paulo coelhos book pilgrimage…..have u heard about the road to santiago??[please tell me...yes or no......]in that i read about this “seed exercise” which i tried to practice in the morning……..that made us go through a rebirth……i have wanted to feel reborn since a long time….letting go of a lot of things in my life…..and u have been an important part in helping and guiding me.thank u.now as i did the seed exercise…….i did not feel something miraculous the way it was described in the book…….but i now understand that wisdom can be shared……..but the path is always different for each person………paulos knowledge may help me……..but it may not put me on the same path as his………i have to make my own path…… then i sat to meditate slowly…..like i normally do…….it was early morning 4.30 and the peace and silence outside was a gift…….as i was meditating something transpired in my mind…….i wanted to write it then then i thought may be it would be better if i share it with someone…….and since i share the most with u now i decided to write to u….. my thoughts……”look at a seed…….it is present inside mother earth…..it is nurtured and then cared for and then it blooms into a beautiful tree……but after it has bloomed it does still require nourishment and nurture and care……….without that it would die……we were once like the seed……..a small life within our mothers womb……then we cried because we wanted to be nurtured and cared and loved….we thrived without words……we thrived through love that we knew only through our mothers touch…..as we grew……we did not give much importance to nourishment……and we somewhere still seeked for happiness and love but we were not aware…….even if we become large and grow like a tree……we still have a seed in our heart…..a child still crying to be cared and nurtured and loved…….to be touched and held just like a baby…….to feel the energy of love touch its warm fingers on our heart…..so that the seed can grow……and bloom into a beautiful tree expanding with it our soul
Right now, I am in a library, to get the acess to the internet in the town I am studying in.
I was sitting here, behind a computer, having dozens and dozens of other people around me. Those people are also sitting, and doing something, just like me, behind a computer.
Then there comes this man, a library worker, with quiet steps. He has thick glasses, a little, but a noticable smile on his face. He’s carrying a handful of books and when he gets to the shelve of books, he puts them in their rightful place, very neatly, as almost as looking for perfection. He places them in a decent row, straightened.
I am noticing it, while I look away from the computer screen. And somehow I start to wonder – what is the dream of this man, and maybe he has already found it… and I admire how he loves his books and how neatly he treats them, and this is probably something he does every day at work.
And then it accurs to me, how this little moment of life, barely noticable, has changed my mood deeply – I am calm, full of inspiration from seeing the dedication of this man to his books, and I feel thankful for seeing it.
Sometimes, seeing the little moments in life, can bring us great joy. And we should be thankful of to be seen it.
Demetrius,I really really enjoyed reading your story about Music and Dance.Amazingly beautiful.
:)
Freedom (extract)
I am being thrust into freedom. I have always wanted to be free, free to follow my own pursuits, free to form relationships, free to enjoy sex, free to be happy, free to get up when I want and go to bed when I want, free to get drunk, free to entertain, free to mix with friends…freedom. I have always wanted this when I have had a job, commitments, marriage, family, friends, colleagues, relationships. I thought I could be free within this normal existence, so I join the gym, sports clubs, book clubs, plan to go to the cinema, plan to go on holiday, plan to break with the routine to plan another routine. My life is prescribed by a story that has been written through the centuries, constantly updated to include the fashions and modes of the time. Filling days with realities that are unreal, technological developments that shy away from emotional and spiritual developments (Oh, by the way, if I’m so inclined I can be free to follow the church or the guru of my choice…not so long ago, and still today in many parts of the world, that freedom was not available, the freedom to channel your way of life into a prescribed (that word again) format). I have freedom of choice, up to a point, and this ‘choice’ is, in many cases, ‘’prescribed’’.
But now, I am being thrust into freedom. I want to be me. I want to shed the mask I have worn for so many years, the strategies I have learnt to carry me through life, earning me material wealth. I start to philosophise that I can be me, within the life that I have built for myself, but that is not freedom, and I am being thrust into freedom. My comfortable, well paid job is taken from me, my material wealth slowly disappears, my marriage breaks down, my children grow up, and I am becoming freer. And it is starting to feel very uncomfortable, and the gaps that are developing from my traditional existence are being filled with uncertainties and fear. And I search into my core and discover my life’s values, and I bring them forward and study them, and work with them.
(more….)
Dear Paulo,
I had great great dreams yet to be achived.
~One day I will achieve them.
At times,feel small and far,helpless..feeling no one there could helped,powerless in this world……
However,I will still stand up high on the feet.
“If you really want something,all the universe conspire in helping you to achive it.” I supposed it is the Law of Attraction(LoA).
Yes,if I really want something,nothing is big enough to stop me from getting it.
Lily
The Story of Music & Dance
by
Demetrius Andre
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Music and a boy named Dance.
They did not know each other. In fact, they lived a long ways away from one another.
One day, Music was in her family’s garden tending to one of her favorite flowers – a gardenia. Music was very sad. She thought this was peculiar because anytime she felt sad, pruning and watering in the garden would always make her feel better.
She stared at Gardenia and said, “Gardy, why do I feel so melancholy?”
“Because you’re missing something important in your life,” said Gardy.
“What am I missing?”
“That’s your responsibility to find out. I’m a gardenia. I know what I’m supposed to do with my life.”
“How do I find what I’m missing?” asked Music.
“You’ve already taken the first step on your journey – you’ve wondered.”
“What is the next step I should take?” asked Music.
“You should consider going on an adventure.”
“An adventure?!”
“Yes. An adventure. It’s something that all you humans want and need, but few of you ever muster up the courage to go on one. You’re a rather cowardly bunch.”
“Well, thanks,” said Music sarcastically.
Music decided that she would go on that adventure, as suggested by Gardenia. She asked her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Inspiration, for some traveling money. They gave her what she needed for the journey, hugged and kissed her for a long time (as was their custom, because you can never have too many hugs and kisses), and watched as she faded into the distance between the trees and mountains.
Music’s journey was very long and she encountered many dangerous people and situations that tested her faith. There were people that stole her money, bullies that called her really mean names, and others that told her she was wasting her time. There were also others who tried to discourage Music.
“You will never find what you’re looking for,” said a man named Pessimism.
“Yes, I will,” said Music.
“No you won’t. And this is why – You are all alone, no one understands you, you’re different, and you’ve been on this journey for a long time and you haven’t found what you’re missing in your life yet. Why keep going? Just stop now, turn around and go home. Don’t you miss your parents?”
“I-I do,” said Music hesitantly.
“Then do what’s best for you – Go home.”
Music thought about this. She was very tired, lonely, and she missed Mr. and Mrs. Inspiration very much. She missed the good food her parents used to make for her every night. She missed the family garden. She missed Gardenia.
At that precise moment, she remembered what Gardenia said about humans.
“An adventure. It’s something that all you humans want and need, but few of you ever muster up the courage to go on one. You’re a rather cowardly bunch.”
It was then that Music clenched her fists, looked Pessimism square in his eyes with a fire from inside her that she never felt before. She gritted her teeth. Then relaxed. She unclenched her fists.
“Get out of my way Pessimism. Leave me.”
“But…”
“I said GO,” said Music with a calm intensity.
Pessimism looked at her.
“I’ll be back,” he said.
“I’ll be ready,” said Music. Then, just as fast as he arrived, he vanished.
Music inhaled and exhaled deeply. She did this for about five minutes and felt better. She was relaxed. Confident. She was ready to continue her journey. She then realized that Pessimism appeared at the moment she was considering giving up. I can be so silly, sometimes, she said to herself.
Then, something miraculous happened.
She had been walking for awhile when she saw a silhouette down the road. She squinted trying to get a better look at the figure that was approaching her. She stopped walking. And she waited. She waited to see if the distant shape would continue getting closer. It did. It got closer…and closer…and closer. She had waited for what seemed to be an eternity. She was perspiring relentlessly. The figure stopped right in front of her. It was a boy.
“Hello,” he said.
“Um, hi,” said Music.
“Hot day, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Music said with a tone of indifference. She wondered why people always talked about the weather as an icebreaker in conversation. There are so many more interesting things that two people could converse about, she thought.
She felt odd in this strangers presence. Odd, but immensely calm, and pleased. Pleased? Does anyone ever feel pleased around someone they don’t know? She was afraid due to the pleasure she felt in this boys’ presence.
“Who are you, and what do you want?! I’ve been a pilgrim on a long journey and have had my share of altercations with people who want to steal my belongings, call me rude names, and discourage me to no end! So I repeat, fair sir, what do you want?!”
The boy looked at her with delight in his eyes. He felt a glow in his heart that was very foreign to him. Music did not know it yet, but this boy had been looking for her – and she had been hoping for him.
“My name is Dance,” said Dance. “And I too have been on a long journey. I’ve encountered many dangers on my mission – many vagabonds who have also stolen from me and tested my faith while on this path. I miss my family and friends and have often felt like giving up. But every time I wanted to quit I remembered something that my father told me. He said, ‘Dance. You’re missing something in your life and you need to find out what that is. You are respected in your community for your physical fitness, prowess, and athletic ability towards movement. But you are empty because you rely too much on your own ability and you have not yet realized that all creation needs companions. Find what you’re missing and you will be whole.’”
“Your father sounds like a wise man,” said Music. Dance noticed the tenderness in her voice.
“He is,” said Dance with equal tenderness.
“This may sound weird, but I feel like I know you,” Music said – and she surprised herself because Music usually isn’t so deliberate and to-the-point. Music tends to be metaphoric.
“I knew who you were as soon as I saw you in the distance,” said Dance.
“And who am I? You don’t even know my name.”
Dance took a deep breath and said, “You are the woman who I expected to find. You are the companion that has haunted my dreams since childhood. And I know we only met a few moments ago, but…I love you.”
“I…love you,” Music said with a smile.
“What is your name?” asked Dance, returning the smile.
“Music,” replied Music.
~
And so it was – Music and Dance became best friends forever. They continued their journey together and met many amazing and peculiar people along the way. The difference is, when they encountered problems, dilemmas, unexpected deaths in their families, hard financial times, and things of that sort, they had each other to help deal and cope with the difficult circumstances.
They loved each other unconditionally – and they were inseparable.
Some thoughts…
I think we should learn to respect the world in which we live and respect each other more.
I think because we have left the contact we once had with the land we have hurt ourselves greatly
We dont take time.
We always want more instead of seeing what great things we have.
The hardest lesson of all is being true to yourself.
We should pass on a kindness given to us to someone else.
We should learn to listen.
Post-vday reality check. Merriam Webster definition of romance: something (as an extravagant story or account) that lacks basis in fact.
I don’t care. More, please.
Also, would someone please hide the chocolate?
Dear Paulo.my grammother she is 80 now but she is in the hospital for more than one month her conditin is very serious she almost died a few days ago..people say that she still´s here because she is attached to us family to our love..that we make her being here..dont u think thats true? tht she feels loved by s that why she has gone yet? lots of love Marisela
Last night, my husband left me to get high and I left him to make love to a sailor. Calling it love-making is not cliche’. It was exactly the salve my soul needed. He quoted Vikram Seth and I quoted Paulo Coelho and his body slid effortlessly into me as we grasped each other’s hands and melted into infinity. He stared intently into my eyes and kissed my forehead tenderly as we moved in unison. I cried with pleasure and he pulled me in closely, deeply, as if creating oneness out of our duality. He whispered to me that we had met along a soul’s wavelength. As we reached our climax together, I was touched to the core of my being, shaking the foundations of everything I thought I knew. I did not love him, but maybe I could love him. In a moment, it was as though he channeled that other, the third, that my heart worships. It was a brief moment of the intensity that my true love and I shared. No one is him, though. No one will ever be. He is a cowboy at the end of his evolutionary trail. I love his middle name — Brett. It evokes inages of the wild west. Tales of outlaws and rebels and whores and he could slide into that scene as smoothly as a carefully crafter creme brulee. Right now, my mind sees the sinewy striations of his arms. His body is like a sculpture, or a fine work or performance art. I watched him create a masterpiece of images and I recorded them in my memory so that I can replay each scene over and over. I don’t analyze — analysis destroys the whole. I simply watch in awe as he works his magic. He is a fabled creature from aother dimension, and I will love him until the day I draw my last breath.
Happy Birthday Amitabh! Take care and be happy.
LOVE,
Thelma
It is my birthday today! :-)
Of Recurring Dreams and Synchronicity
I’ve always had this recurring dream since I was 16, before I went to UP.
In a year, more than a couple of times in each, this dream wakes me up wondering what it really meant. As the years go by, the strangeness of its consistency and vividness has become more pervasive in my consciousness, recognizing it upon the first few minutes of my wakefulness. The dream has escaped my subconscious. My recognition of it even when I am in REM is almost as if I am wide awake, watching a tv program in high resolution.
But the stranger part of the pervasiveness of such string of (sub)consciousness is when people around me dream about it too.
My officemate once blurted out, as if remembering a very important deadline, excitedly told me this dream of hers about me. I had to cut her to ask if she dreamed of this and that, describing the awfully familiar theme in her dream.
She nodded, rather violently, in approval, amazed at how exact I described her dream. I told her it’s a recurring dream of mine and I don’t get also what it meant because it doesn’t make sense at all.
Maybe I have to find that place. Maybe I need to search for it on the map. Maybe. Very “Alchemist”-ic which leaves me interpreting it by superimposing on my real, awake life. Maybe there’s a meaning. Maybe.
Can science explain it? Can Eastern beliefs explain it? I don’t know. But everytime I dream of it, I feel like it’s part of a memory which belongs to a distant past. A very distant one.
Is there a need to interpret it? Maybe. Maybe not. I am afraid to be loss in articulation and interpretation screwing up the beauty of the sheer simplicity of that experience of a brain process.
~*~*~
Flashes. There are flashes. Flashes of what would happen. Flashes of the person’s desire. Flashes of everything relevant and otherwise in my life. The consistency of my (sudden) intrusion to people’s lives or moments bringing some synchronicity (expected or not) or answers in whatever form.
There are people who can experience it but they do not recognize it yet. People may call it intuition. People may call it gut feel. People may call it vision, prediction, foresight, whatever that can not be rationally articulated because they are beyond the realm of rationality. How can you explain something irrational by rationality? You just have admit that they belong to different planes and realms of existence. My experience of meeting people with a superb sense of intuition is fascinating.
I met people who, upon first meeting, can tell a whole lot about me, giving some particularities which are within an array of billion random things. Not generalities but specific things about my past, my childhood dreams, characteristics of my parents, where I have worked, how my last relationship went, and where I am headed to as reflected through my eyes and what they call my “aura” (which as what was told to me, were a combination of green, white and gold). The accuracy of the “tangible” information is scary because I haven’t even said a word.
But prophecy is not unknown in the Bible. Prophets were everywhere.
The rule is to be discriminating, to be prudent of what we hear or see. The common metro people have such noisy minds that they always get themselves into a tangle of thoughts so disorganized they feel lost without even moving physically. The era of information has its own hybrid of problems but also its own hybrid of solutions.
Ultimately, it is in the faith that we put in ourselves that we can have control over ourselves, of our dreams, of our paths, if we let go those inhibiting fears brought by uncertainty.
~*~*~
This is by far, my highest disclosure of a part of my mind.
Shall we put our pink glasses down?It’s nice to see the world in pink even if we are conscious that the world isn’t really pink,not at all.Just like it’s great to love again and again,more and more everyday,even if you don’t get it back.
Illusion.
But if we are conscious of our inconscious,it’s fine,no?
Today’s colour shall be pink.
Voilà!
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