Unfathomable

Este asunto me preocupa...This puzzles my soul all the way into my Spirit... How come all that you knew together remains... How come from one second to the next, that beloved friend and parent, left her sweet body behind and changed... Changed beyond time and space and duality and everything else human.

How come from one second to the next, you can see a sunset, and no longer share it with her. how come from one second to the next life changes name. How come from one second to the next, there'll be no other hug from those arms that held us in joy, in tears and in childhood, in adulthood, in all age.

This puzzles my soul all the way into my Spirit... and there's nothing to understand. It simply is -and it is perfect. No matter our aimless disconcertment.

Only tears make sense. Only this loneliness fits my thought when it expects to find the dearest one in the events of my day... like always before. But no more what was.

Today all is different, and unknown to me... but blessed... and in the end, joyous!...

Entering through the front door...

It's so darn difficult to enter a home through its chimney...Through a window, the basement or worst: the wall!

Obvious as it seems, I've tried it for years. I get hurt, my clothes go to rags, my reputation suffers, I loose time, it costs me much more than entering a house should. Yet, I've attempted entering the "online house" that way for years.

I know this is NOT very convenient... I see others much less stressed -lots more efficient. Might be a personality thing? Some can better than others. Like piano or acting... a personal talent?
-as best I can- if you could please build me a safe and nice looking stair to climb up to the chimney! Ha-ha-ha!...

And you just come with your "stizz" and in kindness, and elegantly, take me to the front door and... The miracle happens: I actually enter the house!... ha-ha-ha!

My First Blog

Example #1

SONGS TO ORPHEUS PART 2. XII

Want the change. Be inspired by the flame
Where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
As the curve of the body as it turns away.

What locks itself in sameness has congealed.
Is it safer to be gray and numb?
What turns hard becomes rigid
And is easily shattered.

Pour yourself like a fountain.
Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking
Finishes often at the start, and with ending, begins.

Every happiness is the child of separationjavascript:void(0)
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It did not think it could survive. And Daphne,
Becoming a laurel,
Dares you to become the wind.

- Rilke