I am writing to you from the dark corners,
Where the rain filled the city to the brim with Water,
in which everything is reflected,
And everything does not turn into wine.
I don’t know why my parents brought me up. More precisely, I didn’t know before, now I know. In order to have someone to mock, someone to recognize their greatness and obey without question… At 8 months old, they gave me to their parents. I don’t remember how they treated me, but I remember that when they needed to go somewhere, they tied me to the table and left. “Commando”. I have heard a lot of different stories both through my profession and in my life, but this particular one for some reason penetrated me so deeply. Of course, I sympathized and sympathized with people before, and I seem to know the stories “more vividly” as they say, but this is where I suddenly burst into tears, and I couldn’t even immediately determine what I was talking about, and which one it was about me. It was not my client (thank God I haven’t had to sob with them yet), not my relative, in general not even a very familiar person to me at that time. I just roared among strangers and couldn’t stop it or explain it.
Something in me was reacting and bursting out. In this place, feelings of aggression and compassion, hopelessness and revenge, rebellion and humility, the desire to save and kill were intertwined. A strange and terrible cocktail in tolerability.
– You see, we can’t do that. We have a strong patriarchal society. You have to follow these rules if you want to live here. You can’t sneeze at all this, you’ll become an outcast. No support at all. I am the only one of my kind who started to rebel. At least this way.
He stood up and put his hand out to the side: “I hold back their onslaught from my children. These customs simply cripple healthy and strong people. They break them, eroding their honor, conscience, power to direct creation. There remains only corrosive anger, meanness, due to the inability to express anger openly, the desire to mock those younger or lower than you in the social or family hierarchy.”
The other hand is moved to the side below. “I closed them. But I don’t know how else. I don’t know how to raise them differently. What or whom to show them.”
Here, somewhere here, some other new wave came from inside me. How many people live simply without purpose and meaning, initially without high goals and simply without any goals, draining their lives in search of cheap pleasures in conditions in which they could grow and develop. And here is such an option, when it sprouts like a lotus from the dirt. I don’t know why so. It would be more logical to help those who want to grow, strive upward, so that they are born under the conditions created in this case. But, apparently, “steel is hardened somehow differently.” Like this. When a person grows up to God from hell itself. Through the horizon. Moves vertically upwards. Despite all. When, for example, there is no relationship. When they don’t have the truth. When they have no sincerity. And there is no sense. When it’s scary to lose, what, in fact, you don’t have. When it’s scary to say, show vulnerability, it’s scary to offend or hurt yourself. When the One who helps you knows that no one’s work is wasted, if it is given in selflessness and in thoughts of the good of mankind. He invests all the love of his heart and all the enlightenment of his consciousness in affairs and help, so that everyone, touching his image, feels the thirst to escape from the ring of tears, to know and understand the meaning of at least his life in joy and love.
Looking back on my life up to that moment, it is obvious now that all my surroundings and events pushed me forward. I hated and got sick, cried and got angry, asked endless questions, why couldn’t it be easier somehow. Parents as needed, husband as he wants, events for pleasure, etc. But the truth is that after the second delicious cake, the body needs something else. And if with taste it is immediately felt, then with consciousness it is more difficult to determine everything. This is if you try to explain. And if not, then it can be accepted as a fact that the world is like that, dual, not created by us, with heat and frost, love and hate, joy and sorrow. And actually, with the fact that there is only one medicine against death – life. And in it, like a spicy seasoning, there will always be a place for the courage to look for people like you, to discover that they exist and to tread a new path with them, even if the majority is treading the same path.
Any things will turn into junk,
No one remembers who built the temple,
Such a life – not sugar and not silk,
Only the one who set fire to the temple is remembered here.
