To the west, to the smell,
On the hind legs
The clouds are creeping slowly.
I see what’s wrong with them
My name and young soul will crawl.
Earrings
I have never written about it, I rarely mention it and I certainly never talk about it in detail. Although this is exactly what my inner house is built on, from which I stretch out my hands like a multi-armed Shiva.
My second birth took place in the humid and hot forest where the house stood. The house is made of wooden sticks with nets instead of walls and a diagonally stretched hammock instead of a bed. I’ve come a long way to get here. And long not only in the sense of the time on the way to this blessed land for me, although that is the same, but in the sense that many years passed before I formed my thirst inside and clothed it in material form.
It all started with the questions of why everything is the way it is, what rules my life and whether it rules, whether there is more meaning in me than “launching into this incomprehensible wheel” of my children, and if I feel unhappy, is it normal or not? How should I be if what I see around me totally does not suit me and all this is not what I want or should just endure and die like many people (although to tell the truth my life was an ordinary standard life in an average country where thank God everyone basic needs are met) and apart from this vague feeling calling, deep inside, I was hardly different.
There is almost no sunset here, the sun was here – right here above my head, then it became a little lower and the next moment above me was a black sky shining with stars. And myriads of cicadas, and all sorts of sounds of the forest, and the distant roar of a jaguar.
Something is rushing outward and forward away from me. I freeze. I notice my rapid heartbeat, the fear of inhaling and being frightened by this feeling. That when I open my eyes and go out the door, plunge into the warm night, round the corner and hear and see and feel that I am finally in place. But it doesn’t work like that.
– This is your land. Where the heart rests. Here somewhere you want to stop and listen.
– Do not throw garbage into the fire!
-?!
– Yes, it is the heart. You don’t throw garbage into your heart!
I am silent. I am ashamed.
– In any bonfire or in this one?
– In any, of course.
– This is how garbage is destroyed in our country.
I can’t look him in the eye.
– I am sorry that you are such barbarians.
I’m so sorry. I carefully put the chocolate in the fire with the flowers in my hand. Everything related to the flame becomes sacred, food, plants, whatever you want to give as thanks for everything! Another ceremony has ended.
People who live next to nature, so to speak, on a level – they are different. So they enjoy the benefits of civilization, but without destroying everything around them. For example, houses are built right in the middle of the forest, leaving everything around untouched as much as possible. There is no electricity in the houses, but there are solar panels for water pumps, for example. And once upon a time, their ancestors rarely stayed in the same place of the forest for a long time, so that the jungle had time to recover after human activity. Even considering the fact that they did not kill animals often, only for food, and did it in a special way, looking each other in the eyes in a duel, and knowing that the animal’s soul would be free after death.
In my country of stone and iron, it is not easy to stay like here. Clean, open, caring, peaceful, not greedy (generous is too strong a word), not envious, at least neutral. Not outside, but inside. When the eyes are filled with tears of joy and gratitude at least once a day.
I was once told by a shaman that this earth is “just the female side of the universe”, I still of course do not understand what that means, but at some point I was able to somehow describe it in words. This sky is not flat, but voluminous, which goes endlessly upwards in a dome, it is something incredibly enticing and enveloping, something infinite, something calls and if I rush towards it, something dissolves me in itself. This is my feeling here, like nowhere else. When everything is right inside. When you no longer suffer from questions and not that you know all the answers, but you know that your path is the answer.
I will not describe here now everything that has happened to me so far, but I will say that it was all worth it, that it was not easy, and that I know for sure that when the call from within connects with the call of these places – the meeting will take place. As they say, when the student is ready, the teacher is there. This is my faith and religion and the meaning of life. Every minute to continue learning to be in the world with myself, in the world with nature, to understand why I am here, to destroy less, to create more, to tell those who want to know that it is also possible – in the sound of water to distinguish hear footsteps of rain, to see through the branches of trees the forest sun, to be surrounded by those for whom there is no other God but that which is everywhere. In water and bitter herbs, in the flight of a condor, in the scorching heat of the desert. Learn to look for this spark, this response of life, for good, for joy, in yourself and in everyone you meet. To understand that God is not a judge, and not a doom, and not inevitable karma, but only the Light in a person, his joy, and the way to him through the world inside himself and helping others in this.
And my happy choice and to take the particles of this Earth to my usual world, to learn to bring this radiant joy and gratitude into my gray day, knowing for sure that when I do something for someone, I do it for myself.
In my little stories, I describe the situations that happened here. In my usual day, how I struggled and searched for answers, how I got out of different situations, how I quarreled and reconciled, how I got angry and rejected, how exactly they did to me. Since we all join the long queue of what has already happened to others in one way or another, these words and emotions may support and help, please and recognize someone’s right to a personal story, or, on the contrary, challenge someone’s opinion. But no matter how it all happens, it’s still my life, I don’t have another, and this is the path I choose.
Of course, on the contrary,
To the eternal final,
To the crossroads of the worlds
Grieving, risking, wandering, I’m swinging,
To meet love.
