miércoles, 27 de noviembre de 2013

Who'll tell us when we'll be tomorrow...


I will look in the sky
I will search for the sun
Who'll tell us all about
When we'll be tomorrow

I will read all the books
On my kness countlessness
To tell you what about
The legends of the past

I will wait for the sun
On the top of the world
To tell you all about
The beauty of the light

If you look inside your soul
The world'll be longer to your eyes
You'll see...

I will stay in the rain
How can sun will come through
Then I'll see it belongs to a mystery book
I'll stay up in the night
Looking moon shooting stars
To tell you how my name
You see all universe

If you look inside your soul
The world'll be longer to your eyes
You'll see...

I will wait for the sun
On the top of the world
To tell you all about
The beauty of the light
I'll stay up in the night
Looking moon shooting stars

I will look in the sky
I will search for the sun
I will wait for the sun
On the top of the world
I will look in the sky
of the world, of the world ...



All words are spelled ... All songs are sung ...Nothing more to say ...Uttering the words and sing the songs ... All you need to remember is there .. Let's your life is good ...


Rhythm in your mind...




 ''There is a rhythm in your mind
You'll feel the power deep inside
Ooh, let's celebrate every single day


There aint no mountain I can't climb
The melody makes me high
Sing a song along the way ...''

martes, 26 de noviembre de 2013

The most beautiful heart



''One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.

Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, “Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.” The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.

The people stared “How can he say his heart is more beautiful?” they thought. The young man looked at the old man’s heart and saw its state and laughed. “You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.” “Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom have given my love – I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared.”

“Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges – giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?”

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.

The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his.

They embraced and walked away side by side.''



 ''Don’t go for looks; they can deceive.Don’t go for wealth; even that fades away.Go for someone who makes you smile, Because it takes only a smile toMake a dark day seem bright.Find the one that makes your heart smile.''


lunes, 25 de noviembre de 2013

ЗА ЛЮБОВТА ...


''...All we do, crumbles to the 
ground, though we refuse to see...
Dust in the wind, All we are is dust
 in the wind...''



   ''The strong live in the storm 
   without worshipping the storm.'' 
      Mark Nepo 


"A quiet mind is all you need. All else will happen rightly, once your mind is quiet. As the sun on rising makes the world active, so does self-awareness affect changes in the mind. In the light of calm and steady self-awareness, inner energies wake up and work miracles without any effort on your part." NM

sábado, 23 de noviembre de 2013

За любовта и самотата...


On Love and Aloneness

'' I am alone in the garden. The sun is rising. A little robin tugs at a worm in the grass. In true love, there is no object of desire, affection and tenderness, for the beloved has collapsed into the lover. The object has collapsed into the subject, and there is only love. Only love, and nobody to be aware of it, nobody to know it and nobody to deny it. Only love, both radically alone, and intimately connected to all things. A subject and an object can never be in love. They are forever divided from each other, split from each other. They can only gaze longingly into each other's eyes across an unbridgeable divide, with the fervent hope that one day, perhaps one day, love will bridge the chasm, and the isolation of multiplicity and fragmentation will give way to the joy of intimate companionship, togetherness, and unity. But no, love cannot and will not bridge the gap, for the gap is inherent in the subject-object split. Indeed, the gap is the subject-object split, and nothing can fill a gap which is so deeply engrained into the very foundations of our experience. No, love cannot bridge the gap, because a subject and an object, a lover and the beloved, are inherently, fundamentally separate. It is unlikely that they will ever truly meet as people, as human beings. True love is the death of this terrible divide, and with it, the ending of all division between two people. This will never be achieved through effort. The very effort to end the division strengthens the division, gives power to the division. This is because the division is not there. It has never been there, and it will never be there. The division is an illusion, and when you fight an illusion you are bound to lose. Lovers can never meet through effort, although they may die trying.
So, our lovers continue to gaze longingly at each other across this unbridgeable divide, a divide that, in their innocence, they have created for themselves. How to help them ? Any effort they make to come together will pull them more strongly apart. Are they doomed to live and die like this ? Is there a way out ? Yes there is, but it involves death. Not physical death, but death of the ego, death of everything that separates, death of everything that fragments, death of everything that divides, death of everything that isolates, death of everything that has been carried over from the past, death of everything that projects into a future. Death of the idea of love itself. Finally, it will involve death of the beloved, death of the lover. Death of you and me, and with it, death of all that comes between us. A descent into pure nothingness, a plunge into the unknown. It is quite a risk. He who risks in this way may taste it, the sweet and simple joy of radical aloneness that is true love. Look ! The robin tweet-tweets as he hops over the dew-soaked grass, and the morning sun begins to warm and wake the slumbering creatures in this Garden of Eden that we have named Earth, and nowhere can I find isolation, loneliness, separation, because all things are in all things, and everywhere is mother, everywhere is home. And I smile to myself with the realisation of the utterly, utterly obvious. I have not found you, but I have recognised something that has eluded me for a lifetime : you are not out there, but in here. You are part of the experiencing structure I take to be myself. So I do not love you, for there is no 'me' to love and no 'you' to be loved. No, I do not love you, for you are an integral part of that which loves.
The great search ends here, now, in this moment. There is only love, and you are that - you are love itself. You are what I feel now, you are the thoughts bubbling up from nowhere and dissolving into nothingness, you are that robin over there, and the fresh dew on the morning grass, and the sun in all its radiance, and we are eternally, timelessly bound in this way, you and me, together with all things. Except there is no 'me', no 'you', and no 'things'. So we will never be apart - no, we cannot be apart, not now, not ever. So, this morning, I am alone in the garden, and you are here with me to see it all.''  /Jeff Foster/

“Nothing ever goes away until it teaches us what we need to know:” Pema Chodron



Is this what you want?!

jueves, 21 de noviembre de 2013

Мъглата си отиде тъжна...



Беше есен. И беше вечер......Лежаха сред тревите в очакване на изгрева на Голямата мечка. Той, смеейки се каза, че сутринта слънчевите лъчи ще разкрият голотата им и даже орлите ще се наслаждават на гледката.  Всъщност, искаше да каже, че нямаше нищо, което да стои между тях...И  утрото бе наслада за орлите...Мекотата на слънчевата светлина се надипляше върху сънливата земя. Мъглата си отиде тъжна, плачеше дори...







sábado, 16 de noviembre de 2013

RAM



...Сълзите ѝ се превръщаха в кристали по лицето ѝ и се пръскаха от тъгата, която бесуваше в тях. Студът отвън проникваше вътре. C някаква изкусна подредба попарваше цветята, които Рам посади в сърцето ѝ. Прокарваше в ума ѝ пътища, по които искаше да върви...но, нещо липсваше... Трезорът!...Не успяваше да си спомни дори резервната комбинация. Къси инстинктивни импулси препускаха в съзнанието ѝ..
...Обвити в лед, тръстиките до нея зазвънтяха , дирижирани от вятъра. Почти не различаваше полумрака от студа...Приближаваше силует. Усети онази топлина, която някога стопляше сърцето ѝ в непоносимо дългите нощи...Отвори очи, а не трябваше...




''Truth rarely acknowledged...''