Archives for November 2011

El circulo de alegria


Illustration by Ken Crane

Cuenta Bruno Ferrero que cierto dí­a un campesino golpeó con fuerza la puerta de un convento. Cuando el hermano portero abrió, él le extendió un magní­fico racimo de uvas.

-Querido hermano portero, estas son las más bonitas producidas por mi viñedo. Y vengo aquí­ para regalarlas.

-¡Gracias! Las llevaré inmediatamente al abad, que se alegrará con este ofrecimiento.

-¡No! Yo las he traí­do para ti.

-¿Para mí­?-. El hermano se sonrojó porque consideraba que no merecí­a tan bello presente de la naturaleza.

-¡Sí­! – insistió el campesino. – Porque siempre que golpeé esta puerta tú me abriste. Cuando necesité ayuda porque la sequí­a habí­a destruido mi cosecha, tú me dabas todos los dí­as un pedazo de pan y un vaso de vino. Yo quiero que este racimo de uvas te traiga un poco del amor del sol, de la belleza de la lluvia y del milagro de Dios, que lo hizo nacer tan hermoso.

El hermano portero colocó el racimo frente a él y pasó la mañana entera admirándolo: era realmente precioso y por eso resolvió entregar el regalo al Abad, que siempre lo habí­a estimulado con palabras de sabidurí­a.

El Abad se puso muy contento con las uvas, pero se acordó de que habí­a en el convento un hermano enfermo y pensó:

“Le daré el racimo. Quizá puede aportar alguna alegrí­a a su vida”.

Y así­ lo hizo. Pero las uvas no permanecieron mucho tiempo en la habitación del hermano enfermo, porque éste reflexionó:

“El hermano cocinero ha cuidado de mí­ durante tanto tiempo, alimentándome con lo mejor que tení­a. Estoy seguro de que se alegrará con esto”.

Cuando el hermano cocinero apareció a la hora del almuerzo, trayendo su comida, él le entregó las uvas.

-Son para ti- dijo el hermano enfermo. – Como siempre estás en contacto con los productos que la naturaleza nos ofrece, sabrás qué hacer con esta obra de Dios.

El hermano cocinero quedó deslumbrado con la belleza del racimo, e hizo que su ayudante observase la perfección de las uvas. Tan perfectas – pensó él – que nadie mejor que el hermano sacristán para apreciarlas; como él era el responsable de la custodia del Santí­simo Sacramento, y muchos monasterios lo consideraban un hombre santo, serí­a capaz de valorar mejor aquella maravilla de la naturaleza.

El sacristán, a su vez, obsequió las uvas al novicio más joven, para que éste pudiera entender que la obra de Dios está en los menores detalles de la Creación. Cuando el novicio las recibió, su corazón se inundó de la Gloria del Señor, porque nunca habí­a visto un racimo tan lindo. En ese momento se acordó de la primera vez que habí­a llegado al monasterio y de la persona que le habí­a abierto la puerta: habí­a sido ese gesto el que le habí­a permitido estar hoy en aquella comunidad de personas que sabí­an valorar los milagros.

Así­, poco antes de caer la noche, llevó el racimo de uvas al hermano portero.

Come y aprovecha – le dijo. Porque pasas la mayor parte del tiempo aquí­ solo y estas uvas te harán muy feliz.

El hermano portero comprendió que aquel presente le habí­a sido realmente destinado, saboreó cada una de las uvas de aquel racimo y durmió feliz.

De esta manera, quedó cerrado el cí­rculo: el cí­rculo de felicidad y alegrí­a que siempre se extiende en torno a las personas generosas. Paulo Coelho

O circulo da alegria


Illustration by Ken Crane

Conta Bruno Ferrero que, certo dia, um camponíªs bateu com forí§a na porta de um convento. Quando o irmí£o porteiro abriu, ele lhe estendeu um magní­fico cacho de uvas.
– Caro irmí£o porteiro, estas sí£o as mais belas produzidas pelo meu vinhedo. E venho aqui para dá-las de presente.
– Obrigado! Vou levá-las imediatamente ao Abade, que ficará alegre com esta oferta.
– Ní£o! Eu as trouxe para vocíª.
– Para mim? – o irmí£o ficou vermelho, porque achava que ní£o merecia tí£o belo presente da natureza.
– Sim! – insistiu o camponíªs. – Porque sempre que bati na porta, vocíª abriu. Quando precisei de ajuda porque a colheita foi destruí­da pela seca, vocíª me dava um pedaí§o de pí£o e um copo de vinho todos os dias. Eu quero que este cacho de uvas traga-lhe um pouco do amor do sol, da beleza da chuva, e do milagre de Deus, que o fez nascer tí£o belo.

O irmí£o porteiro colocou o cacho diante de si, e passou a manhí£ inteira a admirá-lo: era realmente lindo. Por causa disso, resolveu entregar o presente ao Abade, que sempre o havia estimulado com palavras de sabedoria.
O Abade ficou muito contente com as uvas, mas lembrou-se que havia no convento um irmí£o que estava doente, e pensou:
“Vou dar-lhe o cacho. Quem sabe, pode trazer alguma alegria í  sua vida.”

E assim fez. Mas as uvas ní£o ficaram muito tempo no quarto do irmí£o doente, porque este refletiu:
“O irmí£o cozinheiro tem cuidado de mim por tanto tempo, alimentando-me com o que há de melhor. Tenho certeza que se alegrará com isso.”

Quando o irmí£o cozinheiro apareceu na hora do almoí§o, trazendo sua refeií§í£o, ele entregou-lhe as uvas.
– Sí£o para vocíª – disse o irmí£o doente. – Como sempre está em contacto com os produtos que a natureza nos oferece, saberá o que fazer com esta obra de Deus.
O irmí£o cozinheiro ficou deslumbrado com a beleza do cacho, e fez com que o seu ajudante reparasse a perfeií§í£o das uvas. Tí£o perfeitas, pensou ele, que ninguém para apreciá-las melhor que o irmí£o sacristí£o; como era ele o responsável pela guarda do Santí­ssimo Sacramento, e muitos no mosteiro o viam como um homem santo seria capaz de valorizar melhor aquela maravilha da natureza.

O sacristí£o, por sua vez, deu as uvas de presente ao novií§o mais jovem, de modo que este pudesse entender que a obra de Deus está nos menores detalhes da Criaí§í£o. Quando o novií§o o recebeu, o seu coraí§í£o encheu-se da Glória do Senhor, porque nunca tinha visto um cacho tí£o lindo. Na mesma hora lembrou-se da primeira vez que chegara ao mosteiro, e da pessoa que lhe tinha aberto a porta; fora este gesto que lhe permitira estar hoje naquela comunidade de pessoas que sabiam valorizar os milagres.
Assim, pouco antes do cair da noite, ele levou o cacho de uvas para o irmí£o porteiro.

– Coma e aproveite – disse. – Porque vocíª passa a maior parte do tempo aqui sozinho, e estas uvas o fará muito feliz.
O irmí£o porteiro entendeu que aquele presente tinha lhe sido realmente destinado, saboreou cada uma das uvas daquele cacho, e dormiu feliz.
Desta maneira, o cí­rculo foi fechado; o cí­rculo de felicidade e alegria, que sempre se estende em torno das pessoas generosas.
 
 

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25/nov/2011 Ana Maria Braga




My birthday gift / meu presente de aniversário

MADRID, 23 NOV 2011 – Minha mulher completa 60 anos, e esse foi meu presente de aniversário. Uma caní§ao.
My wife celebrates her 60th birthday and this was my birthday gift

Ne me quitte pas Il faut oublier
Tout peut s’oublier Qui s’enfuit déjí 
Oublier le temps Des malentendus
Et le temps perdu A savoir comment
Oublier ces heures Qui tuaient parfois
A coups de pourquoi Le cœur du bonheur
Ne me quitte pas

Moi je t’offrirai Des perles de pluie
Venues de pays Oí¹ il ne pleut pas
Je creuserai la terre Jusqu’après ma mort
Pour couvrir ton corps D’or et de lumière
Je ferai un domaine Oí¹ l’amour sera roi
Oí¹ l’amour sera loi Oí¹ tu seras reine
Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas Je t’inventerai
Des mots insensés Que tu comprendras
Je te parlerai De ces amants-lí 
Qui ont vu deux fois Leurs cÅ“urs s’embraser
Je te raconterai L’histoire de ce roi
Mort de n’avoir pas Pu te rencontrer
Ne me quitte pas

On a vu souvent Rejaillir le feu
D’un ancien volcan Qu’on croyait trop vieux
Il est paraí®t-il Des terres brí»lées
Donnant plus de blé Qu’un meilleur avril
Et quand vient le soir Pour qu’un ciel flamboie
Le rouge et le noir Ne s’épousent-ils pas
Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas Je ne vais plus pleurer
Je ne vais plus parler Je me cacherai lí 
A te regarder Danser et sourire
Et í  t’écouter Chanter et puis rire
Laisse-moi devenir L’ombre de ton ombre
L’ombre de ta main L’ombre de ton chien
Ne me quitte pas

A promessa, Stallone e o Mago

NO MINUTO 8:00 DO VIDEO ACIMA, O MAGO DOS NERDS LEVA A PROMESSA ADIANTE, MAS EXIGE OUTRA PROMESSA EM TROCA….

Destroying and rebuilding

I am invited to go to Guncan-Gima, the site of a Zen Buddhist temple. When I get there, I am surprised to see that the extraordinarily beautiful building, which is situated in the middle of a vast forest, is right next to a huge piece of waste ground.
 
I ask what the waste ground is for and the man in charge explains (I can’t verify if it is true, but it must be):
 
‘That is where we will build the next temple.
‘Every twenty years, we destroy the temple you see before you now and rebuild it again on the site next to it.
‘This means that the monks who have trained as carpenters, stonemasons and architects are always using their practical skills and passing them on to their apprentices.
‘ It also shows them that nothing in this life is eternal and that even temples are in need of constant improvement.’
 
 

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30 SEC READING: my personality paradox

“Those who love giving advice on our garden never tend their own plant” (Paulo Coelho)

by Sahaj Kohli

If there is anything that i have become increasingly overwhelmed by recently, besides the pressure, desires and uncertainty, it’s the idea of being alone.
Not lonely. Just alone.
Even though I enjoy my downtime, I still spend more time thinking about others and caring for others than I do for myself.
I trust easily. Give willingly. Fall hard.
All for my friends, family, significant others, strangers who have left an impression, those in need, etc. This sounds great in theory, and of course it’s a wonderful thing to be able to be selfless and kind and compassionate, but at what expense of your own?

Learn from me. Be your own best friend. It’s great to have a support system surrounding you but it’s important to be able to stand on your own two feet and take a walk by yourself.
It’s incredible to be able to talk yourself through the hard times first and foremost and then have your friends and family as secondary, backup support.

You’re not doing anybody any good, even if your intentions are in place by neglecting your needs to take on those of others. It’s like they say on the plane, first place your oxygen mask, then help those around you. If you are trying to help someone else first and run out of air, then you’re not doing anybody else any good.
If you had a healthier, more loving relationship with yourself, imagine how much better of a family member, friend, significant other and social service member you could be.
Imagine the confidence this builds, the security, the self love, the compassion, the kindness, the patience…

To read the full post, CLICK HERE

 
 

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What a year!

WHAT A YEAR!
You may imagine the excitement of a writer (any writer) whe she/he releases a new book. Most of them don’t show it – probably because they are shy, or they prefer to hide their emotions – but the excitement is there.
Long time ago I chose to share all my emotions, regardless the circumstances – love, enthusiasm, fear – so I can live my life fully.
It was a decision that I never regret. And that is present in all my writings.

And when 2011 knocked the door, I thought: “the next months will be very interesting, as my new title will be released worldwide”. Bingo!
What I did not expect (even if I wished and dreamt about it) was to see what I saw.
ALEPH made the bestseller lists in all countries it was published (except one). Bear in mind that I decided not to give more than 10 interviews during the year, and the success of the book is basically the word-of-mouth and the social communities.

The photo above was taken in the most important Polish chain (Empik). Poland was the final country in 2011 where ALEPH was released.

Therefore, thank you for your continuous suppport, your friendship, and your commitment.
Thank you, obrigado, gracias, merci!
Now we wait for 2012 to see the book repeating the same performance in the countries it will be published (Germany, Russia, Japan, Indonesia, etc. )
Much love

Aleph comentários/comments (no censorship)
ALEPH IN USA AND CANADA
Publication dates 2011 & 2012

 
 

Nós somos a revoluí§í£o

EN ESPANOL: La nueva revolución
IN ENGLISH: We are the revolution

__________________


Sempre falo da importí¢ncia de seguirmos nossos sonhos, e isso é mais revolucionário que ficar discutindo o que os governantes fizeram de certo ou errado. Nossos sonhos sí£o nossa forí§a.
Nossos sonhos sí£o nossa capacidade de mudar o que há í  nossa volta.

Meus livros ní£o falam sobre o processo polí­tico e desgastado de direita/esquerda. Mas de algo que nasce em nossa alma e afeta o mundo ao nosso redor. Claro, ní£o procurem isso na imprensa, eles discutem apenas as mesmas coisas que sempre. Ainda ní£o abriram os olhos para as mudaní§as, e nos consideram “fora da realidade”.
Mas nós somos a realidade.

Se eu tivesse que resumir a idéia inteira em apenas uma expressí£o, eu diria que a nova atitude polí­tica para a nossa época é a “morrer vivo e comprometido.”
Em outras palavras, estar ciente e participando de coisas até o dia de nossa morte. Isso é algo que ní£o ocorre com muita frequíªncia – as pessoas acabam morrendo para o mundo quando renunciam a seus sonhos.

Nós somos a revoluí§í£o em curso.Nós somos responsáveis “‹”‹pelo mundo em todos os sentidos – polí­tico, social, moral.
Nós somos responsáveis “‹”‹para o planeta. Nós somos responsáveis “‹”‹pelos desempregados, famintos, excluí­dos.
Claro, podemos culpar os bancos, os irresponsáveis “‹”‹no sistema financeiro, a repressí£o polí­tica, a incapacidade dos governos de ouvir o que temos a dizer.
Mas isso ní£o vai ajudar o mundo a se tornar um lugar melhor. Precisamos agir, e precisamos agir agora.
E ní£o precisamos pedir permissí£o para agir.
Somos muito mais poderosos do que imaginamos. Vamos usar esse poder que nos dá forí§a sempre que seguimos nossa Lenda Pessoal.
Nós somos os sonhadores, mas também somos a revoluí§í£o.
E nossos sonhos ní£o sí£o negociáveis.

Leiam aqui minha
Declaraí§í£o de princí­pios

(obrigado @nina_oliver !)
 

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Choosing the best road

When Abbot Antonio was asked if the road of sacrifice led to Heaven, he replied:
 
‘There are two such roads. The first is that of the man who mortifies his flesh and does penance because he believes that we are all damned.
‘This man feels guilty and unworthy to live a happy life.
‘He will never get anywhere because God does not inhabit guilt.
 
‘The second road is that of the man who knows that the world is not as perfect as we would all like it to be, but who nevertheless puts time and effort into improving the world around him.
‘In this case, the Divine Presence helps him all the time, and he will find Heaven.’
 
 

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La nueva revolución

(Traduccion: Karem Molina Escobar )

Mi trabajo está totalmente comprometido con la nueva actitud polí­tica – los seres humanos en busca de su propia identidad.

Mis libros no hablan sobre los viejos y desgastados procesos de la derecha/izquierda, pero hay una revolución que lentamente se levanta y que la prensa no parece haber detectado aún.

Si tuviera que resumir la idea en una sola expresión, dirí­a que la nueva actitud polí­tica de nuestra época es la de “morir vivo y comprometido.” En otras palabras, ser consciente y participar en las cosas hasta el dí­a de nuestra muerte – algo que no ocurre muy a menudo – la gente termina muriendo el dí­a en que renuncia a sus sueños.

Somos revolución tomando forma. Somos responsables del mundo en todos los sentidos – polí­tico, social, moral.
Somos responsables del planeta. Somos responsables de los desempleados.
Por supuesto, podemos culpar a los bancos, al desastre que personas irresponsables crearon en el sistema financiero, a la represión polí­tica, a la incapacidad de los Gobiernos para escuchar lo que su pueblo tiene que decir.

Pero esto no va a ayudar al mundo a convertirse en un lugar mejor. Tenemos que actuar, y tenemos que actuar ahora.
Y no necesitamos permiso para actuar.
Somos mucho más poderosos de lo que pensamos. Usemos este poder, usemos la fuerza que cada uno tenemos cuando perseguimos la verdadera felicidad, la Leyenda Personal, como sea que lo llamemos.

Somos soñadores, pero también somos revolución.
Los sueños no son negociables.

Anexé mi declaración de principios en los siguientes enlaces. Haz lo mismo. Y pon en práctica todo lo que creas que deberí­a ser llevado a cabo.
Con amor,
Paulo

ENGLISH: Declaration of principles
ESPANOL: Declaracion de principios
PORTUGUES: Declaraí§í£o de princí­pios
 
 

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Nasrudin siempre elije mal

Illustration by Ken Crane

El mullah Nasrudin está considerado uno de los grandes maestros del sufismo, precisamente por tener el perfil de un loco, aunque siempre enseña -con su pretendida locura- los verdaderos secretos de la vida. Esta es una de sus historias.

Todos los dí­as nasrudin iba a mendigar al mercado, y a la gente le encantaba verlo hacer el papel de tonto con el siguiente truco: le mostraban dos monedas, una que valí­a diez veces más que la otra. Nasrudim siempre elegí­a la de menor valor.

La historia corrió por el condado. Dí­a tras dí­a, grupos de hombres y mujeres le mostraban las dos monedas, y Nasrudim siempre se quedaba con la de menor valor.

Hasta que apareció un señor generoso, cansado de ver cómo ridiculizaban a Nasrudin de esa manera. Lo llamó a un rincón de la plaza y le dijo:

– Cuando le ofrezcan dos monedas, elija la de mayor valor. Así­ tendrá más dinero, y los demás no lo considerarán un idiota.

– El señor parece tener razón -respondió Nasrudin. -Pero si yo eligiera la moneda más valiosa, las personas dejarí­an de ofrecerme dinero para demostrar que soy más idiota que ellas. Usted no sabe cuánto dinero tengo reunido, usando este truco.

“No tiene nada de malo pasar por tonto, si en verdad lo que uno hace es inteligente”.

This blog

11/11/11 was the busiest day since this blog was created (over 140.000 views as you can see in the printscreen above)
Thank you very much for your strong and continuous support
Love
Paulo

20 sec reading: How to behave like a fool

EN ESPANOL, CLICAR AQUI>> Nasrudin siempre elije mal
_________________

Illustration by Ken Crane

Mullah Nasrudin (the central figure in almost all tales of the Sufi tradition) had already become a sort of attraction at the main market in the town.
Whenever he went there to beg, people would show him a large coin and a small one: Nasrudin always chose the small one.

A generous man who was tired of seeing everyone laugh at Nasrudin, explained to him:

“When people offer you two coins, choose the larger one. Then you will have more money, and people will not think you a fool.”

“You are surely right”, replied Nasrudin.
“But if I always chose the larger coin, people would stop offering me money, in order to prove that I am a greater fool than they are.
“And then I would no longer receive enough for my food.
“There is nothing wrong with appearing to be a fool, if what you are doing is in fact intelligent.”
 
 

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11/11/11 and 11 Minutes of sex (ENG, PORT, ESPA)


EM ESPANOL AQUI>>>: Once minutos

EM PORTUGUES: Onze minutos


The men she had met since she arrived in Geneva always did everything they could to appear confident, as if they were in perfect control of the world and of their own lives; Maria, however, could see in their eyes that they were afraid of their wife, the feeling of panic that they might not be able to get an erection, that they might not seem manly enough even to the ordinary prostitute whom they were paying for her services. If they went to a shop and didn’t like the shoes they had bought, they would be quite prepared to go back, receipt in hand, and demand a refund. And yet, even though they were paying for some female company, if they didn’t manage to get an erection, they would be too ashamed ever to go back to the same club again because they would assume that all the other women there would know.

‘I’m the one who should feel ashamed for being unable to arouse them, but, no, they always blame themselves.’
To avoid such embarrassments, Maria always tried to put men at their ease, and if someone seemed drunker or more fragile than usual, she would avoid full sex and concentrate instead on caresses and masturbation, which always seemed to please them immensely, absurd though this might seem, since they could perfectly well masturbate on their own.
She had to make sure that they didn’t feel ashamed. These men, so powerful and arrogant at work, constantly having to deal with employees, customers, suppliers, prejudices, secrets, posturings, hypocrisy, fear and oppression, ended their day in a nightclub and they didn’t mind spending three hundred and fifty Swiss francs to stop being themselves for a night.

‘For a night? Now come on, Maria, you’re exaggerating. It’s really only forty-five minutes, and if you allow time for taking off clothes, making some phoney gesture of affection, having a bit of banal conversation and getting dressed again, the amount of time spent actually having sex is about eleven minutes.’

Eleven minutes. The world revolved around something that only took eleven minutes.

And because of those eleven minutes in any one twenty-four-hour day (assuming that they all made love to their wives every day, which is patently absurd and a complete lie) they got married, supported a family, put up with screaming kids, thought up ridiculous excuses to justify getting home late, ogled dozens, if not hundreds of other women with whom they would like to go for a walk around Lake Geneva, bought expensive clothes for themselves and even more expensive clothes for their wives, paid prostitutes to try to give them what they were missing, and thus sustained a vast industry of cosmetics, diet foods, exercise, pornography and power, and yet when they got together with other men, contrary to popular belief, they never talked about women. They talked about jobs, money and sport.

Something was very wrong with civilisation, and it wasn’t the destruction of the Amazon rainforest or the ozone layer, the death of the panda, cigarettes, carcinogenic foodstuffs or prison conditions, as the newspapers would have it.

It was precisely the thing she was working with: sex.

in Eleven Minutes

Ithaca – Kavafis, Vangelis and Sean Connery

My turning point (Newsweek)

When I set out for Santiago nearly 30 years ago, starlight was the last thing on my mind.

But one afternoon, there I was, in a café in León, surrounded by chattering travelers alight with stories about their trek. The town of Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port was miles behind me, and I was already better than halfway to Santiago.
In a matter of days, I would turn 39, and though I had no idea at the time, from that moment on nothing in my life would be the same.
But here, on the road, the landscape ahead looked monotonous and flat. Behind me was no different, except for my own boot prints etched in the dust, which the wind would erase by nightfall. Everything seemed surreal.

“What am I doing here?” I asked myself.

That question would haunt me in the days and weeks to come. How absurd, making a pilgrimage by foot at the turn of the 21st century! OK, so I was chasing my dream. Ever since I was a child I’d wanted to become a writer. But was I really ready to do what it took? After all, it’s so much more comfortable and far less risky to have a dream; but trying to live that dream could bring frustration or defeat. Besides, I was no longer a child.

TO READ THE FULL ARTICLE IN NEWSWEEK, CLICK HERE