About the Theme
The Exhilarating Joy of a Life Made Anew
(From Something Given to Someone Revived)
That vision of a theme was discerned in the midst of my fragile and worrisome post-cardiac surgery state, and I believe that, in the most grandiose scheme of everything, mostly hidden and shadowy perceived, it represents a glowing spectacle of a past and a present self — if not a vividly offered spark — of unsettling and bewildering pieces of a journey I could define by the improbabilities and preposterousness with which my life has been running its course up to that point in time, like an entangled mix of well-known and unresolved vibrations, each one fading as I do.
It is puzzling how the strongest of all beliefs becomes weaker as your usually soft breathing suddenly becomes much more difficult, when, unexpectedly, there is no more truth, no more certainty, no more absolute covering the fragility of your inner beauty. Everything seems blurry. Even your long-lost innocence appears to be a fresh and juvenile naivety in the hands of a world growing more cynical as it cruelly feeds its fatalism with the bright colors of optimism we had managed to preserve through our otherwise fainter and fainter journey.
It is puzzling how the strongest of all beliefs becomes weaker as your usually soft breathing suddenly becomes much more difficult, when, unexpectedly, there is no more truth, no more certainty, no more absolute covering the fragility of your inner beauty. Everything seems blurry. Even your long-lost innocence appears to be a fresh and juvenile naivety in the hands of a world growing more cynical as it cruelly feeds its fatalism with the bright colors of optimism we had managed to preserve through our otherwise fainter and fainter journey.
That vision of a theme was discerned in the midst of my fragile and worrisome post-cardiac surgery state, and I believe that, in the most grandiose scheme of everything, mostly hidden and shadowy perceived, it represents a glowing spectacle of a past and a present self — if not a vividly offered spark — of unsettling and bewildering pieces of a journey I could define by the improbabilities and preposterousness with which my life has been running its course up to that point in time, like an entangled mix of well-known and unresolved vibrations, each one fading as I do.
It is puzzling how the strongest of all beliefs becomes weaker as your usually soft breathing suddenly becomes much more difficult, when, unexpectedly, there is no more truth, no more certainty, no more absolute covering the fragility of your inner beauty. Everything seems blurry. Even your long-lost innocence appears to be a fresh and juvenile naivety in the hands of a world growing more cynical as it cruelly feeds its fatalism with the bright colors of optimism we had managed to preserve through our otherwise fainter and fainter journey.
It is puzzling how the strongest of all beliefs becomes weaker as your usually soft breathing suddenly becomes much more difficult, when, unexpectedly, there is no more truth, no more certainty, no more absolute covering the fragility of your inner beauty. Everything seems blurry. Even your long-lost innocence appears to be a fresh and juvenile naivety in the hands of a world growing more cynical as it cruelly feeds its fatalism with the bright colors of optimism we had managed to preserve through our otherwise fainter and fainter journey.
What remains, before the wide and large chromatic river you are about to be invited to walk on to, is honesty; the few pieces of your inceptive dreaming aspirations that still remain, all twisted with the decaying reality of a life you can’t quite admit is your own. Life isn’t easy for dreamers.
But you are there, nonetheless, one of those idealists standing between the threads of time, aware, somehow, of every fragment of seconds passing like raindrops holding your existence in their drizzle, your spirit left in an assemblage of fears, doubts, insecurities and faithlessness, mingled with heartening hope, precious friendship, and wholesome love. Uncertainty is more petrifying than confusion can ever be…Until a gleam comes out, until you are willing to welcome the healing motion watering the profound damages of your dried-out soul, regardless of the pale reflection of a stranger you have become to your own silhouette looking back at yourself with too much indifference to discern the darkness from the light… Until you allow other people’s kindness and benevolence to find you, like I have craved for them to find me… And they did.
In a reaching gesture of compassion and tenderness that I’ve been so graciously blessed with, I realized I wasn’t as unreachable as I thought I had come to be through the looming days of painful streams I kept on merging into the night’s endless roaming flow. After drifting for so long, waiting most of my life to be fixed, to be taken away, I lost the ability to yearn, to trust I’d ever be found, to believe that I’d ever outgrow the dogmatic storm holding me back at sea, I happened to be just close enough to hear my name be carried by the warmth of the wind floating ashore.
And I opened my eyes. In a different space. In a distinct reality. Peaceful displays of ancient forgotten wonders. I found myself in a state of heart and mind where there’s no affliction dressed up with any of the shame I once believed I couldn’t be freed from, where there are no words to magnify a grief overcome with the guilt of not having if only murmured eulogies for those whose smile I forever long when my heart’s hollowing shades begin to vanish, where I can see the radiating images of the many luminous moments that have been fiercely preserved within me, moments generating the most profound of all clamorous sounds to be, now whispering through that exhilarating joy of a life made anew.
And for all the promises I forgot, the visions I once foresaw I’d evolve in, the transformations I renounced to lean on, here I am, awakened, contemplating the cheerfulness of the sky as a first-sighting wave of praising gratefulness. A seed has to die in order for its latent mysteries to be revealed, for its vivacity to bloom. We need to let go in order to be reborn, flourish. From someone else’s gift, offered in a last goodbye, in a final favor to a friend never to be met, for me, awaiting to be revived.
Yes, here I am, thankful to be here, as I know that “here” is not only real, but that “here” is finally NOW.
But you are there, nonetheless, one of those idealists standing between the threads of time, aware, somehow, of every fragment of seconds passing like raindrops holding your existence in their drizzle, your spirit left in an assemblage of fears, doubts, insecurities and faithlessness, mingled with heartening hope, precious friendship, and wholesome love. Uncertainty is more petrifying than confusion can ever be…Until a gleam comes out, until you are willing to welcome the healing motion watering the profound damages of your dried-out soul, regardless of the pale reflection of a stranger you have become to your own silhouette looking back at yourself with too much indifference to discern the darkness from the light… Until you allow other people’s kindness and benevolence to find you, like I have craved for them to find me… And they did.
In a reaching gesture of compassion and tenderness that I’ve been so graciously blessed with, I realized I wasn’t as unreachable as I thought I had come to be through the looming days of painful streams I kept on merging into the night’s endless roaming flow. After drifting for so long, waiting most of my life to be fixed, to be taken away, I lost the ability to yearn, to trust I’d ever be found, to believe that I’d ever outgrow the dogmatic storm holding me back at sea, I happened to be just close enough to hear my name be carried by the warmth of the wind floating ashore.
And I opened my eyes. In a different space. In a distinct reality. Peaceful displays of ancient forgotten wonders. I found myself in a state of heart and mind where there’s no affliction dressed up with any of the shame I once believed I couldn’t be freed from, where there are no words to magnify a grief overcome with the guilt of not having if only murmured eulogies for those whose smile I forever long when my heart’s hollowing shades begin to vanish, where I can see the radiating images of the many luminous moments that have been fiercely preserved within me, moments generating the most profound of all clamorous sounds to be, now whispering through that exhilarating joy of a life made anew.
And for all the promises I forgot, the visions I once foresaw I’d evolve in, the transformations I renounced to lean on, here I am, awakened, contemplating the cheerfulness of the sky as a first-sighting wave of praising gratefulness. A seed has to die in order for its latent mysteries to be revealed, for its vivacity to bloom. We need to let go in order to be reborn, flourish. From someone else’s gift, offered in a last goodbye, in a final favor to a friend never to be met, for me, awaiting to be revived.
Yes, here I am, thankful to be here, as I know that “here” is not only real, but that “here” is finally NOW.
