Music is … A higher revelation than all Wisdom & Philosophy” ― Ludwig van Beethoven

It was by pure coincidence that one day I heard "Le vent, le cri" from Georges Lautner's Le Professionnel film score (1981), and composed by Ennio Morricone.  Although I don't usually listen to this composer’s music, the moment I got in touch with "Le vent, le cri" notes it was as if suddenly the doors of an unknown universe opened up to me. That day I remember listening to this piece over and over again, feeling transported to that place where we understand that what surrounds us is not the only reality. Those notes led me to finally understand that there are mysteries we cannot elucidate, basically because they don't belong to us.  But that doesn't mean that we can't enjoy what life has given us and share it with those around us.  It was thus that, listening to those mysterious sounds, it became clear to me that our life well-being depends purely on ourselves, and that the more careful we are the more blessed we will be.

OUR LAST TASK

Over the years I have changed again and again my view about the meaning of existence. Today I know that the essence of our life can only be understood when we are approaching the end of the road. In our youth, too many concerns and responsibilities fill our heart; and if we want to reach old age with a peaceful heart and knowing that we have fulfilled our tasks in the best possible way, that is the way it should be. However, as we age things change. When I crossed the threshold of youth towards the second part of life, I began to wonder what awaited me in those long hours of silence and calm without any obligations or responsibilities. So I started by reading every article I found about the importance of having a project, an active social life and some good friends with whom to share the loneliness generated by our children leaving our home. Unfortunately, such advice had no real basis.  Social life and projects are for the young and no longer belong to us. Finally one day I found the answer to the enigma; when I arrived at my house and went into that orderly and silent space, I understood that the last part of life is not there for social life or projects. Actually, those free hours and their daily loneliness are there for us to finally understand who we are; a much more important task than meeting friends who, in general, only bring into our lives their frustration and regret. Instead, the task that awaits us has to do with discovering the reason for the life we have lived. It is only in the evening of our years that we understand that, although our life followed an already designed road, the route was full of crossroads and detours. It is precisely those crossroads that have made us who we are and brought us to where we are now. This is why at dusk, when I ponder in front of the dying day, I tell myself that for some reason the crossroads I chose are the ones I would choose again. The chosen road was definitely mine.

COINCIDENCES ARE GOD'S WAY OF BEING ANONYMUS. Albert Einstein

 

In 2014 I suffered a severe attack of diverticulitis; I was at home working remotely when a pain in my abdomen completely paralyzed me. My first thought was that my last hour was finally there; it was with great desperation that I phoned my son who immediately alerted 911. When we arrived at Mount Sinai Hospital emergency room, Dr. A., a surgeon who spoke to me in Spanish, assisted us. The first thing he said was that a colostomy bag was necessary, which I flatly refused. Because he could see that I was extremely stressed, he agreed to wait until the next day to see if my condition improved. Mercifully it did; a colostomy bag would have generated in me a depression that would have interfered with my recovery. It was during the twelve days of my stay at the hospital that a relationship of deep respect and esteem grew between this doctor and myself. But not only with me; every time he came to see me in my room to update me on my condition, he called my son over the phone to keep him informed. Finally, the day of my discharge came, and I left the hospital; and with the passage of time and the daily problems of life my diverticulitis fell into oblivion. Until in 2022 when, for some reason, the memory of Dr. A. who had saved my life came back to my mind, and I decided to send him a thank you note. However, because of my age or because of the illness bad memories, the name of this doctor had vanished from my memory. It was then that I started looking for him wherever I could; but neither the hospital's medical records nor my online medical record was of any help.  Then January of this year arrived, and I decided to prepare my taxes for the accountant to process. Knowing that we are only supposed to keep seven years of taxes available, I went to the cabinet where I keep those files to take out the one from 2014 to start shredding those documents. As I sat down at my desk and opened the receipts envelope, the first thing I see is a check for $1,255.20 that I had paid to Dr. A.  as co-payment for his services. It was then that I remembered that when I handed him the check that day at his office, he told me that if I couldn't pay him, I didn’t have to. I had finally found his name; my letter of appreciation is on the way.

 

UN CAMARERO COMO POCOS

 

Ayer ingresé en la I95, autopista que me lleva de Miami Beach a Coral Gables, para ir a Chocolate Fashion a almorzar con mi buena amiga C. Si bien a esta altura de la vida manejar por la autopista no es mi actividad preferida, la sola idea de tener una amena charla con C. me dio ánimos. Pero lo que ignoraba era que el encuentro no sería solo con ella, sino con alguien que no olvidaría fácilmente. Al llegar y ver que C. aún no estaba, elegí una mesa para dos al lado de la ventana; desde allí, y mientras esperaba, tuve la oportunidad de estudiar el pequeño salón de comida. De pronto uno de los camareros me llamó poderosamente la atención; era un muchacho de unos cuarenta años, muy alto y muy delgado, y en cuyos labios asomaba una permanente y calurosa sonrisa. Lo interesante de este hombre no era que sonriera continuamente, sino el hecho de que su sonrisa fuera un gesto auténtico; en otras palabras, cuando le sonreía a algún comensal lo que le comunicaba era un caluroso mensaje de bienvenida. Al observar sus gestos tan corteses lo que me vino a la mente fue un chófer que el día anterior, por no disminuir la velocidad, casi me atropella sin yo haberle cortado el camino. En ese momento vi venir al camarero con una botella de Malbec de las pequeñas; al parecer el tamaño de la botella no le importó ya que la descorchó con la misma delicadeza como si se tratara de un Chianti Clásico; y fue con la misma cortesía que lo ofreció para ser catado. Cuando le alabé su manera de tratar a los clientes me contestó que él gozaba mucho de ese trabajo. Y si bien no tuvimos con él una larga charla, tanto C como yo nos fuimos de allí con la satisfacción de haber conocido un ser humano digno de ser imitado: amable, cortés, y respetuoso del trabajo que le ofreció la vida.

ONE CANNOT LIVE THE AFTERNOON OF LIFE ACCORDING TO THE PROGRAM OF LIFE'S MORNING... Carl Jung, (The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche.)

 A few days ago, I had a strange dream, so strange that when I woke up, I told myself that it was not worth trying to decipher it because I would not succeed. The dream was as follows: I was in front of two large paintings depicting geometric figures. The difference between the two was that while the colors of the left canvas were gleaming, those on the right canvas lacked luster. I remember thinking in the dream that the second canvas had probably been washed with chlorine. But as attractive as this dream was, its images didn't communicate anything to me... that is, until I remembered a Jung saying that I had read a long time ago. "One cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life’s morning,” it stated. According to Jungian thinking and without fear of being wrong, we could say that life really begins (the canvas on the left) when time is running out. But what is the reason for

this paradox? The paradox is not such if we realize that it is only in the second half of life that we understand the meaning of existence; for instance, that our life is free and determined at the same time. In other words, although we enjoy a certain freedom of action, there are tasks that were sent our way for us to fulfill. Over the years we also understood that the pain suffered was necessary to grow spiritually and become our real Selves; it was thanks to the way we dealt with life storms that we became examples for those who follow us in time. Finally, it is only when there is less time left that we understand that solitude is our best companion. Only when we are alone can we grasp the undeniable fact that we were the only ones able to do what we came to this world to do. Finally, it is when the day is almost over that we realize that the only things we will take with us are the goodness and reverence for life we have shown to all and everything.

ES EN LA NOCHE PROFUNDA...

 

REFLEXIONES DEL AŇO QUE TERMINA

 Otro año que se aleja de mi vida y que, al mismo tiempo, me acerca un poco más al cruce del río del olvido que a todos nos espera. Pero cuando miro hacia atrás los días vividos, siento latir dentro de mí un alma serena; la mía es un alma que ya no siente rencores ni pesadumbre, sino solo gratitud por lo recibido. Por ello, cuando la noche cierra me gusta agradecer al Universo la vida que me ha dado, ahora tranquila como agua de laguna. Es cierto que, como a todos en esta tierra, he pasado por instantes que me dejaron sin aliento y con el alma entristecida. Pero luego, al abrir los ojos a mañanas esplendorosas, pude comprender que no hay bueno sin lo malo, ni malo sin lo bueno. Hoy, al cabo de recorrer tantos años de vida, me doy cuenta de que, al cumplir con las tareas que nos han encomendado, sabemos que nuestro final más que final será un andar eterno. Porque hemos venido a este mundo a mejorarlo y a ayudar con nuestro ejemplo a aquellos que lo necesitan. Y al cumplir con este mandato nos vamos acercando a ese río misterioso sabiendo que la corriente nos llevará allá donde nos estén esperando. Más que viaje será el retorno a nuestro verdadero hogar.

 Feliz Año y muchos más por venir.