Without an outstretched hand, we have no destiny.
It is the journey through time that makes what is subconscious conscious. I have only been able to read these subconscious things as a result of what I have gone through.
The silent space around my words is waiting for a breath of inspiration.
May what I have gone through call forth the power of life in each one of us. I am trying to pass on through words and in writing what I have experienced in such a way that those who read me may recognize themselves in what is best within them. Is it not our responsibility to try to build, wherever we have become flesh and blood, a future where it will be good to live?
There is a light deep within us. It is made dull when we want to become like other people. Freedom calls us to responsibility.
In order not to absorb the evil and violence of others, I have learned to listen but not hear everything. To lower my eyes so as not to see a face disfigured by violence. To stay silent. When someone is angry they cannot hear or see. Such rage that words cannot express may mask great suffering. Silence allows me to stay centered, to step back and not suffer such an outburst.
We are all scarred by life. We scratch at ourselves, and at others, because life has wounded us.
The sun is often hidden behind dark clouds, but we know it is there, just waiting to rise in our hearts.