THE FOUNTAIN

There are two kinds of intelligence.

One is like that acquired by a child at school,

from books and teachers, new ideas and memorization.

Your intelligence may become superior to others,

but retaining all that knowledge is a heavy load.

You who are occupied in searching for knowledge

are a preserving tablet,

but the preserved tablet is the one who has gone beyond all this.

For the other kind of intelligence is the gift of God:

its fountain is in the midst of the soul.

When the water of God-given knowledge gushes from the breast,

it doesn't become fetid or impure.

And if its way to the outside is blocked, what harm is there?

For it gushes continually from the house of the heart.

The acquired intelligence is like the conduits

which run into the house from the streets:

If those pipes become blocked, the house is bereft of water.

Seek the fountain from within yourself.

Rumi

SING YOUR DEATH SONG

"When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home." 

Tecumseh

MONKS

"Freedom is not given to us by anyone; we have to cultivate it ourselves. It is a daily practice... No one can prevent you from being aware of each step you take or each breath in and breath out." 

Thich Nhat Hanh

CAT'S DREAM

How neatly a cat sleeps,

sleeps with its paws and its posture,

sleeps with its wicked claws,

and with its unfeeling blood,

sleeps with all the rings- 

a series of burnt circles- 

which have formed the odd geology

of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,

with all the fur of time,

with a tongue rough as flint,

with the dry sex of fire; 

and after speaking to no one,

stretch myself over the world,

over roofs and landscapes,

with a passionate desire

to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep

would undulate, how the night

flowed through it like dark water; 

and at times, it was going to fall

or possibly plunge into 

the bare deserted snowdrifts.

Sometimes it grew so much in sleep

like a tiger's great-grandfather,

and would leap in the darkness over

rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,

with episcopal ceremony

and your stone-carved moustache.

Take care of all our dreams; 

control the obscurity

of our slumbering prowess

with your relentless heart

and the great ruff of your tail.

Pablo Neruda

POTS

This world, after all our science and sciences, is still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more, to whosoever will think of it.

Thomas Carlyle.

MULTICOLOURED

Love is the answer, and you know that for sure; Love is a flower, you've got to let it grow.

John Lennon.

BRAVERY

I choose this photo taken last year, because it symbolizes perfectly how I feel right now. Trying to overcome my fears and self limitations, but for that I first stand up to my ghosts.

  I'm getting better, slowly I'm feeling better. But the more I advance I find worse, it is strange, it should be otherwise, find better when more deepened in my being. But not, everything becomes more raw, more real. It is as if everything had suddenly lost that charm, that makeup that made everything more beautiful.