AZULES COMO EL MAR PROFUNDO
Azules como el mar profundo
son los ojos del hijo que traje al mundo,
ancha como una pradera sembrada
es la sonrisa que ilumina su mirada,
tiernas como flores de montaña
son las palabras con las que me habla,
inmensos como el universo infinito
son los latidos de su corazón querido.
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It was just another Coronavirus Sunday between the solitary
walls of my home. Although after several months of isolation I was still
feeling able to face what was going on, for some reason on that particular
Sunday the idea of spending another day among my thoughts and memories became a
little too hard to accept. Sages crave for the loneliness of the desert to face
their lives and their visions and understand them; unfortunately, I am not a
sage and the lack of social activities makes my days too long and too desolate.
Social isolation leaves me alone with the painful events of my life, and when my
aloneness lasts too long, I find it difficult to understand the meaning of
existence. Despite my reluctance to face another day with myself, I decided to
make the best of it and looked for a book that would help me use the time
wisely; I decided to use the time to clarify some of my unfinished businesses.
It was then that I suddenly remembered Baruch Spinoza, that magnificent philosopher
rejected by his Jewish Elders for having understood that divinity is not a Being
from another world but the logic order of Nature. Spinoza said that all phenomena, including
human choices and actions, respond to an internal order of cause and effect. He
added that Nature processes occur by necessity and none of them could have occurred
differently. In other words, it is what it is, and if we wish to avoid hating
others or living in desperation, we need to accept what is. In his life Spinoza lived through
very difficult situations to the point of almost being stabbed to death by a religious
fanatic. However, being a brilliant mind, he reached the conclusion that it is
useless to argue with the flow of events. Much wiser it is to understand that
everything that happens in life has a cause, and the only thing we can do is to
accept the fact that what we are facing is the effect of such a cause. Although
most of the time we ignore what the causes of our suffering are, acceptance is
an imperative. After closing the book on Spinoza, I decided that the best thing
for me to do was to forget about my unfinished businesses and have a nice glass
of wine on the balcony.
was not humanly possible. When seeing her desperate gaze I
felt deep compassion for this woman who had come to share such a difficult life
burden with someone who did not have the skills to help her. Let’s remember that since we are not born with
skills, they need to be acquired through study and much reading. Unfortunately,
unlike many other professions, some people think that psychology is easy to
improvise. They probably don’t know what a deep knowledge of human nature they
need to have in order to help another human being out of misery. Making use of
beautiful-sounding spiritual sayings is definitely not enough. It is also not
enough to sit on an elegant chair in front of a TV camera and act as a guru. Had
the host being skilled in counseling, this would have been his immediate
answer: “What you have been doing until today to find a job has not worked; what
about if you try another approach until you find what is there waiting for
you.”
OUR LIFE: A JOURNEY WITH NO REFUGES
I have always liked
houses; to me they spell a very special kind of mystery. The reason why I did
not think of studying architecture when I was eighteen is probably due to the
fact that math was not my forte. Still, whenever I go by a house that appeals
to me, I make the point of slowing the car and observe its design. Houses have
always been for me the symbol of a refuge; some kind of secret garden where to
feel protected from the confusion and misunderstandings of life. Therefore, each
time I was able to own one I always did my best to make its interior feel like
a welcoming cabin the me dark night. Today that I am forced to be inside my
apartment for many hours a day, I look at these four walls and feel that in the
vastness of the universe this is a place I can call my refuge. But is it? Is life
something that becomes more peaceful after we close the door of our house and make
ourselves comfortable? Why is then that, sometimes, when I sit on my balcony
with the usual glass of white wine, I feel a strange feeling of aloneness and nostalgia
for days past? Is it because I have still not learned the lessons sent my way
by life, or is it because I still have to understand that life is an unending journey
till the end with no stops in the way? I know that, should I have the option, I
wouldn’t go back one day in my life; the lessons were many and difficult, but
priceless. I now can grasp the meaning of our stay on this earth more simply:
the adversity I encountered was there only to make me understand that life is a
journey with no stops and no shelters; our only refuge lies in our soul.
Es el
constatar que hemos tomado el rumbo equivocado,
es el
extraviarse en una noche que no termina,
es el
retumbar de un lamento que no se acaba.
La muerte
de un sueño es estar solos y en silencio
allí donde retumba
la tormenta que se avecina,
es el saber
que no hay refugios donde pasar el día.
La muerte
de un sueño es no dejar de preguntarse
qué fue de
aquel sentimiento liviano como el agua,
aquel amor que
tenía un sabor a madrugada.
La muerte
de un sueño es como el vuelo de un ave,
que
sobrevuela la ciudad dormida, y luego parte porque sabe
que cuando
el sueño muere hay que dejar que se apague.
Salut Michel:
¿Cómo estás? Hace tiempo que no recibo tus noticias. O quizás el estar recluida en mi casa por la pandemia me hace necesitar más de las voces amigas, especialmente las de mi infancia y adolescencia. Por alguna razón el encierro evoca el pasado, aquel en donde todos éramos como una gran familia en la que nos sentíamos protegidos. En esa época el mundo era diferente y salvo la preocupación por tener buenas notas, el universo en el que nos movíamos era casi transparente. Es cierto que en algunas ocasiones aparecía alguna nube en el horizonte; pero con un llamado telefónico todo volvía a su lugar. Pero hoy al mirar la foto de fin de año del colegio me doy cuenta de que hace mucho tiempo que ese mundo dejó de existir. El aislamiento y la soledad de este momento que nos toca vivir son los que traen estos recuerdos a la mente, como muchos otros. En las paredes blancas de nuestro hogar volvemos a leer la historia de nuestra vida en sus ínfimos detalles, los buenos y los otros. Y al recordar esas vivencias no podemos dejar de preguntarnos por qué tomamos un rumbo y no otro, o por qué al ver que ese camino no llevaba a ningún lado seguíamos andando. Es cierto que también se nos aparecen los momentos felices, aquellos cuando tocábamos el cielo con las manos, aunque fuera por un rato . ¡Qué breve es la vida y cuántos laberintos la conforman! ¿Será que nos quiere enseñar a ser más sabios y más cautos? ¿Será por eso que los grandes hombres de la historia se van al desierto a comprender el significado de todo esto? A veces cuándo mi hijo me pregunta si estoy bien, por alguna razón se me llenan los ojos de lágrimas y tengo que hacer un esfuerzo para reprimir un sollozo. Luego me digo que la soledad que estamos padeciendo no es más que una revisión de los días ya vividos, y un proyectar los días que todavía nos faltan. ¿Y los errores pasados? Quizás hayan sido necesarios para poder comprender de dónde venimos y hacia dónde vamos. Cada uno de esos desaciertos es un escalón hacia la vida que nos espera. Ojalá que los días que están por venir sean los más preciados de nuestra vida.
Y con esta reflexión te dejo por ahora, deseando volver a verte cuando la vida vuelva a ser la que era… o parecida.
Bisou,
Marina
The more I live, the more I realize what a difficult task is the parenting task, and how difficult it is to realize it when we are young and...
