The incredible and unlimited process of feeling


From whatever place petitions are emitted; sometimes they are clamours, which call for the basic necessities: from eating and drinking, to the option or possibility of loving.

Complaints, from all of the infinity are lived like a confinement.

Complaints, as if arriving to life had been... of bad taste.

Complaints and demands, as if arriving to be alive was a punishment; uncomfortable.

Supplications of complaints asking for what is “owed”; each one from its block, space, territory, religion, philosophy or… life style.


A call of supplications that in the end does not recognise that the disasters that are lived, are the product of an option: of the option that has been gestated.

And without wanting to renounce it, it is supplicated to the Creation to intervene. That it intervenes to take away… the uncomfortable, the bad, the hard, the difficult!, and to leave the established, the wished for, the powerful, the beneficial... This Attitude!... is one of the most striking inconveniences of the praying one: when, really with pain, they prostate before the Creation, the Mystery, the Divine… so that it mitigates their sorrows, their painful events. But, if this is not accompanied… with a decided and convinced way to live differently, the communication, the tolerance with the Divine, will not happen.


Complaints. Multiple complaints against the Mystery: because of not overflowing its solutions, its miracles, its unpredictable events.

And there is -there is-… there is a lot! -Or everything!- to do in life. Each second, two human beings arrive –arrive!- Yes. They arrive, they are shown. This is our enormous rhythm: each second!

And without answers; and without accommodation; and without plans of welcome…

The style of “being” has become distant, demanding!, productive, beneficiary!, it doesn't have “modes” of a host. Its modes are speculation… save yourselves, whoever can!... –“whoever can”-...


No. It doesn't seem that the other species complain about their condition; perhaps -in some occasions- they rise up against the domestication.

And this “human” species, that doesn't have an official predator, that uses and needs all of the rest!... as a consequence -for its capacity, for its dominion, for its power- it ought to be a continuous spring of… happiness, of enjoyment, of hope!


We come from and we conserve the breath of the Mysterious Creator. But, immediately, in landing in this place of the universe, we are covered with a map of clues, of norms, of uses, of customs, of impositions… of games, of clothes, of food!...

Soon –soon!, very quickly!- some type of pain… is learnt.

And maybe, from there, the complaint, the grimace, the war!... begins. And all of this is identified with “life”! And all of this is identified with “life”.


And, without doubt, because of this Mysterious Creative Breath, something tells us that this grimace, this pain, this complaint… is false. It is not of the nature of life! The essence of our origin should tell us something when, after awaking… we continue!; after falling, we stand up!; after pain, we laugh.

Something!, something that supposes a “mystery”, extols us; it extols us, to where is not known. But -emulating the words of Christ: “my kingdom is not of this world”- it seems as if we are driven to continue!, despite the heaviness of the human condition, it's that there are, it's that it is, it's that in some place, it’s that in some way… there is another kingdom. There is... There is...

And it strives!... and it strives, and life strives to live. And sometimes to say, to have an opinion, to propose or suggest something different: something different to the varnish that they have put on us, that they put.


And this Mystery of propulsion, of proposals, soon –usually- is scared away. And the being tends to remain in what is known –“Rather bear the ills we have, than to fly to others that we not know of”-.


And also you have to pay attention to -being in this varnish of war!-, the infinite supplications, that “to the echoes go”, if they had their way, another war would be created! –“If they had their way another war would be created”- that could be called “infernal”; because, as everybody asks for their own things… and it is going to be at the cost of the rest, only war can solve this dilemma. Maybe, for this, so few supplications filter!... towards the communication “in” the Divine.


And what’s more -and what’s more-, in a not defined but important small percentage, in this... living together?... between the varnished warrior and the unrealised but permanent Mystery, to be able to carry on, the being discovers himself dissatisfied with himself. The being discovers itself lamenting about itself! He doesn't like himself!


And it is logical that like this it is: an eternal losing warrior, circumstantially a winner, that does not know how to obey its essence; in these conditions it is difficult to be content with oneself


And it could be, it could, -without power!- be put in evidence -with prayer, with meditation, with contemplation-… it could be put into evidence -without power!- that the flow with which life expresses, in the case of the human being, is inspired in models of eternity!; it is inspired in infinite spaces!; it is inspired in the Creative permanent Nothing!... it is not inspired in blood, sweat and tears, in the decline, in the deterioration...!


And in the way of exercising the soul!... is discovered through this following, through this impulse to continue without knowing to where, without knowing why, to be able to wake up to this consciousness, that… made us “possible”; that makes us possible.

Surely, “sentimentally”… this would drive us to changes!, to transformations!, to transfigurations, to mutations of details!, of attitudes!, of decisions. And they would not be warrior-like; they would not be the known; they would not be the established; they would not be… the manipulating proposals. They would be of another nature, they would be of another lineage!: of the original lineage!


If still... if still we rejoice at the birth of a baby chicken, and if we are still moved by the singing of the children, we are in the disposition to promote this sensibility… towards other categories of alertness, attention, pulchritude, of impeccability, of consciousness of eternity.


Details of “sentimentality”, will be those that flower… and open a world of an unknown consciousness; that delouses us… of so much demanding, imposing and dominant materiality.

To recreate our essence, and become a mysterious enjoyment, capable, sustainable!, viable and… fortunate!

Discovering ourselves in the consciousness of “the beauty of life”.

The incredible and unlimited… process of “feeling”.




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