Now. Continue reading
A few days ago I was struck by a deep sadness. I know that feeling, it is centred around the heart, it feels like a deep grief of being disconnected with life. True life. A disconnection within the self, a rift, a gap, a lack. A lack of wholeness. It’s a terrible feeling and often kickstarts mechanisms in the psyche which makes me want to drink insane amounts of coffee, play computer games, watch meaningless Youtube-videos, scroll my Facebook feed etc. etc. Just to avoid the pain.
This time, though, the underlying sorrow was too intense. Escapistic strategies wouldn’t work. From experience I know that pain can be a teacher if you let it. So I tried to sink into it, to look for the origin of the wound. An image appeared in my mind, a specific tree in a nearby park, a gentle suggestion to go there and see. “Why?” I asked myself. “Just go” was the reply. Continue reading
There is a pen. A pen which never stops. A pen which moves deftly across the blank pages of existence. Writing everything into being. Except that is only one way of looking at it.
There is a wheel. A wheel which never stops. A wheel which turns and turns, spitting golden sparks, carving a yellow path across dark blue velvet skies. Life erupts, suddenly, in its wake. Thinking itself immortal. Building empires and civilizations on the path of gold. Until the wheel returns, crushing everything, pure annihilation. Then life starts anew. A faint memory of the old in its new genetic makeup. Remembered, yet always forgotten. Except that is only one way of looking at it. Continue reading