What a misfortune… to live without counting with life!

 

The daily "normality" of self-comfort, of hidden complaint, and sometimes the clamour of protest, dominates.

But all of it encapsulated, silenced until, one day... one day it is discovered or explodes.

"The party in peace" has become a way of life, a way of being... to not miss any opportunity.

Meanwhile, the soul is throbbing to try to be sincere. And it doesn't dare.

And the project and the change are exercised in meditative silence. But it is not expressed either.

The being abducts itself continuously.

Nobody seems to know who is who. Except when it bursts!... out of order. But that's not who it should be either.

Daily human respect, so that those who speak and comment –that is never about themselves- would have no reasons, is an attitude... of underhanded lying.

More credit is given to vulgar opinion... than to sincere suggestion!

More credit is given to fear and drama... -it seems it “boils" better- than the slightest joy, the suggestive possibility, or a simple state of harmony.

No doubt, all these are very general aspects. That is true. But it is no less true that they gravitate and gravitate on our daily life, and it is increasingly more difficult to be oneself, and the being accommodates to be what others want it to be.

Could it be that life of a being crystallised in this Universe -with all its projects and resources- to become a lousy actor of other people's tastes!?

And socially -and socially- each being is pointed out... to be judged, rewarded, condemned, separated... -it depends!... on the interests of others-.

The human species, in its development, has become a " Secession War" that has not foreseen its dissolution. It is a way of life... which conspires, criticises, watches...; which camouflages itself with opinion, with free speech...

The Prayerful Call requires us! It requires us as beings of the Universe. It requires from us as sincere beings... that we can breathe in the wind!, fearless, without prejudice.

It is too important, life is too important, as to reduce it to a criticism, an insult, a... silence, to ignore and to accept.

The Prayerful Call demands from us infinity, eternity and the permanent mystery that living supposes!... And in that mystery, we must remain, and not fall into the easy resort of complaint, accusation, criticism...: everyday "worldliness"!

But, beware! Neither should oneself stand up as saviour, protector, dominator, controller of truths!... Because there are also some of those. And they even look like virtuous.

Throughout evolution, a life of stumbles, blows, falls, pains... has been built up; "the permanent living complaint"... which obviously blames this or that or the other... and forgets, it forgets about living.

But certainly, in order to remember living, it is necessary to purify that daily appearance.

To remember authentic living, it is necessary to achieve transparency!

There is no need to hide something! It is an unacceptable… burden!

Yes! There is a clamour for life.

Yes. There is an exclamation of living... -yes-... that prayer encourages- yes-... to get out of that nook, labyrinth, crossroads... in which one does not want to lose anything of what one has, or one wants to get more than what one should; in which the fight is permanent; in which the opinion of the most incapable outweighs the criteria and the sense of the most sophisticated!

How long will vulgarity of living prevail... on the back of the greatness of a moment's respite?

When is the being going to claim, to its destiny, its true timelessness, with its feelings, with its searches, with its attitudes...? That they adapt, but don’t keep quiet! That they assume, but do not resign!

If the level of sensitivity is lowered, if the intention of affection is lessened, if Love becomes a timid contentment... we are out of the context of life of the Universe.

We will be piling up the cemeteries, hospitals, clashes, hatreds, grudges!... Polluting...

The landmines that are spread in many places are small explosions compared to the anti-personnel mines that people create for themselves and their environment.

It bursts in its silent struggle! It cries in its hiding silence. And it tries, in the face of the vulgar, not to be noticed.

Oh! Such a misfortune!... to live without counting with life!

Oh! What desolation... to be without feeling that one is there, longing and wishing for another reality.

Oh!, what a pain it becomes!... when words are silenced, or "apparently"…  expressed. They give a token of appearance.

Lying goes hand in hand with concealment. And it's curious that, in this promotion of hiding, it is thought and felt that it will remain there, and that it will go to the grave, and no one will feel it, no one will discover it!

Such a stupid thing to do!

The hidden, the apparent, cannot prevent the obvious to radiate.

No matter how much exercise is done to pretend..., just by breathing, in each exhalation the being shows itself, and others breathe its breath.

Yes! Perhaps it will not be known in detail what everyone hides, conceals and avoids! It will not be known precisely, but the consequences will be worse. Because attitudes of vulgarity contaminate, infect, damage. They cause pain.

And so, do we not see perhaps the continuous pain... circulating?

Is it still possible to think that it is "due to an alteration of"... or "because of"...?

Under the Praying Sense, none of that makes any sense. Pain is inappropriate of the living.

Life, in its magnificence, does not need pain.

Not lowering the level of consciousness, which obviously shows us the reasons for this or that pain! One is aware that its origin is in being, in the way we are, which has been carved out in a social, spiritual, political, economic breeding... –and a long etcetera-.

To make ourselves worthy of living is a prayerful claim, so that we feel flowing; so that we stop asking ourselves: "And what can I do? Everyone knows what he or she should do!

The question "what should I do, what can I do?" is the deceptive question that tries to compromise the environment with its opinion, and thus to establish a false strategy!... of the way to be, the way of being.

Life!, living, gives enough references for each being to take note of its position. He knows what to do. But he evaluates more and values more what others say about what he should do, how he should behave...

The being feels subjected to other beings!... And it is frightened when it has to refer to being a continuous and permanent creation. He is frightened when he does not have the power that he continuously claims over his body, over his actions, over his attitude...

He despises life and living. And he goes through the uncomfortable situation of benefit, profit, loss, gain... His skin, his ideas, his dance ages... and thus he becomes an unreadable scroll.

That's not the living... that calls for life!

That is not the way of being that everyone should know -and does know- how to fulfil.

Don't make of everyday life an inconvenience, please!

To approach... approaching the ardent living: that which smiles at the permanent and continuous gifts of Providence. To the one that is seeking, because he is in the Mystery.  To the one that discovers, learns!, and is amazed.

One must not accept oneself in the vulgar version of what evolution wants -that evolution of human demands. There is another evolution: the real one. The one that is not designed by the wise, the technological, the intelligent... That other evolution that perfumes us, encourages us and shows us infinite diversity, thus leaving behind everyday vulgarity.

The task of living is to embark on the sea, to LOVE. It is not to drop anchor in the harbour.

The task of living is not to anchor on the high seas... and to make living a conquest.

The task of living is to sail without anchors, with the breath of the winds... that carry us in an infinite course.

No need to arrive, we have to pass through.

No need to depart, we already are here!

But, yes. In these rhythms of humanity, if one wants to recognise living... it is an effort.

An effort that is encouraged, that is referenced in the Eternal Mystery. An effort that is inherent in the being. That does not entail exhaustion! That does not give fatigue. On the contrary, it gives flight, it gives desire... and not precisely to "win", but to get rid of the ballast imposed by vulgarity.

The Creator Universe waits with its gifts.

The Mystery... the permanent and generous Creative Mystery, full of Mercy and Piety!... makes the effort not painful, not unpleasant. Rather, it is liberating. And so it is when the reference is Love, when the reference is The Lover.

The effort, there, does not imply fatigue or tiredness or pain. It involves tenderness, discovery, creativity and encouragement.

The enthusiasm for living is free! It is not a script! It is not a score! It is a gift that the living has!, and humans have tried -and are trying- to dominate, to control, to manage, to manipulate, to impose!

In the subtle hope of a distant and -at the same time- intimate breath, the Prayer claims... exclaims... clarifies...

***

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