I was thinking this morning about our great cities
the tall buildings, the busy streets below,
the people, conducting their lives,
so many goals to be attained,
so many destinies to be fulfilled,
so many important speeches to be delivered,
so many decisions to be made,
ideas to implement, actions to be taken,
problems to be solved,
so many selves…..
What am I doing here in the mountains ?
contemplating thin clouds
as they dissolve in the empty sky,
breathing the breath of the inner Moon.
But then again…..I thought,
have the birds stopped singing ?
have the flowers stopped flowering ?
have the celestial bodies stopped turning
in their immeasurable vastness ?
How much can we control ?
the beat of our hearts ?
the dreams that we dream ?
the silence of our own death ?
” We are all too ready to believe that the self that we have created out of our more or less inauthentic efforts to be real in the eyes of others is a ‘real self ‘. We even take it for our identity. Fidelity to such a non identity is of course infidelity to our real person, which is hidden in mystery. Who will you find that has enough faith and self-respect to attend to this mystery and to begin by accepting himself as unknown ? ”
Thomas Merton`s words echoed in my mind….
white mists from below were rising up
caressing weightlessly the dark pines.
I had another sip of the tea
from the cup lying in my cold hands,
outside, the moistened leaves
were shining in the morning light.