And those of us, who spend half of their lives seeking an answer. Who got the guts to mercilessly go after it and commit to find it. And the minute they lay their hands on it; they spend the other half of their lives looking for supportive answers, or even opposite ones, just in case they got the wrong one. They become over-ready they rotten in their own over-ripeness, and the seed of salvation dries once and for all. We asked the wrong question.
The distance between us is paved with pretending.
We step towards each other slowly, on the expense of losing parts of ourselves with every step.
Only to discover while arriving that we entirely turned into shadows in the full-of-denial-quest.
And that we couldn’t give what we no longer have.
Compromising is dangerous.
Street performers, roaming around or sticking to their favorite spots; they offer their divine perfection for gratuities. Jumping the rope between madness and wisdom; they tickle our hypnotized souls with the old calling of joy and laughter.
Try to “save” them and you destroy them. Give them a job, a tie and a suit, a bank account and a promised future and you suffocate the divine perfection for good.
By losing it all they gained the depth.
An enlightened person once said that he wishes that all people get what they’ve ever wanted; money, fame, and power, just so they know that it was never the answer.
We ironically live under the same sun with humble and yet decent spirits, tapping into universal energy away from being self conscious or dusting duties. They are the most beautiful people.
And then you realize, that growing up has nothing to do with living in the mind, with stiff face muscles. It’s all about enjoying your craziness, every bit of it, to dive in your own depth, and develop your intelligence. Growing up; is to be a child once again.
My youngest son Rayan wanted an ice cream, but he then changed his mind for popcorn instead. So I turned to the man, I thanked him, and we moved on.
Heavens! I just can’t forgive myself for not buying any from that man, even if Rayan didnt feel like ice cream anymore, I could have given it to any..
When I came home and saw this look on the man’s face, his arms, and the sense of peace around him_ it literally broke my heart, not that I pity him, not at all, but I in a way or another blocked something good was about to happen to him, and to us, no matter how small it was. And what made me feel worse is that he never tried to convince me otherwise..
We keep on learning, and the small things always find their way to our hearts, much faster than the big ones. Late is definitely better than never. Today, I learned something new about myself, and about this world..
I now pray with all my being, that that man will not close his eyes tonight, until joy overwhelms his heart. The Universe has its own magical ways to make it happen, and God is always in the word. ❤ ❤ ❤
Our hearts are touched the most; by the sad poems, the heartbreaking stories, and the misadventures..And that is another proof that the soul is undivided..
I don’t need you to tell me that God is somewhere up there in the sky, I’ve already seen him in the glint in your eyes, in your goosebumps, and the warmth of your hand over mine..
Rooted into being, we overflow with empathy and kindness. Let love be, let love be.
By Majd Radwan
So tell me, what do you do when you’re not having fun anymore? What is your plan to fill the gaps in your heart; and what’s left of your time on this earth?
Tell me about the hidden demons, the strange and discreet unease inside, and the vacant look in your eye.
Tell me about the urge to disappear, and the reason behind every heart beat of yours.
Tell me about the long-sought love, the not-yet-felt-contentement, the aspirations locked in the drawer, and the overwhelming power that draws you to your own company each time the surroundings fail to touch you.
Tell me about your sorrows, and if you ever managed to uncover the hidden message behind their existence. How does it feel to stitch a broken heart?
Tell me about your first reaction to anything, your nostalgia, your first love and your first kiss.
Tell me, how does it feel to carry a heavy weight that doesn’t even belong to you? does it leave you the time to watch the smile on your child’s face?
Tell me about the golden bars of the cage, the handcuffing obligations, and the forgotten wide-open-door. How does it feel to swim with the current and cut all ties with the poetry of simply living?
Tell me when your tear becomes warmer and your smile is brighter?
Tell me, when was the last time you watched the sunset? or sent wishes with the wind on a starry night. When was the last time you stopped counting days, and threw your watch away?
And then tell me, is it worth it? To trade your soul for a flat life, to tame your wildness for security, and to worship forced interactions instead of celebrating the rawness within.
Is it worth it? To stick to normal instead of testing the bonds of your imagination only to discover that there are none, to hold on to patterns while you have the whole world to shape and re-shape, to shut down your sense of wonder instead of enjoying blissfully the odds all around that you took for granted for so long.
Tell me, tell me that it’s time, time to wake up to the fact that you are here to Be, not to Become.