As I’m slowly seeing the world in the light, living now in the shiny world of colors, I don’t always wish to linger down the wells of sorrow. I feel that I was spending way too long down there.
But lately something slimy from deep deep under is slowly slowly sliding up. It also wants to set foot out of the shadowlands and into the light. Maybe it feels that if I finally found a piece of joy, so this poor miserable prisoner of the prison of myselfs is worthy of some joy too. “I have a right to exist”.
And as it rises, so i’m slowly pulled down the well. Minha mãe, bring me força to be able to plant my feet steady in bright lit earth as darkness comes, to pull us both out of the shade and into the world of colors and sun.
I will be leaving Goa after half a year soon, changed. Knowing at last, what it really is to smile with a feeling emanating from it, and to laugh from the bottom of the belly. And I shall carry all my neglected prisoners with me wherever I go. Maybe for once they can be de-neglected.
Hey scared little one, wanna come up north, see the mountains and sit upon new rivers? Let me help you climb up from the well and out of my prison. It’s quite nice here under the sun.
The Guest House (Jellaludin Rumi)
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.