blood

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what i see is not the tangible. it is the feeling of seeing.

what i feel is not the seeable. it is the pulsing of my heart. the living cells in my blood. the thickness. of my texture. the oxygen that runs through my veins.

what i live is not a life. it is the sense of aliveness that lives inside me – my soul. it is the meaning that is written in the redness of my blood.

my blood carries the history of my ancestors – the death and the life. my blood is the root of my existence and the wisdom of my soul.

my blood is red. thick. dark. it is the life force that runs through my existence.

the awareness of the pulsing force of my blood teaches me that i am here to observe. to learn. to feel things. to feel into and then try to understand. to know when to pause. when to go. when to stop completely. knowing those subtle yet strong signs piercing through my heart, pulsing from my centre and soul straight to yours. The connection.

Empathy. It is all about that. The dying. The acceptance of death. inside. every day. so that the reborn manifests.

the creation of that very space of freedom. that power that makes us immortal. as souls.

the acceptance of nothingness and letting everything flourish into space. inside and outside of us.

knowing that we know nothing. and being able to learn the new every day. learning to be wrong every day. the abondment of the self. the dying inside every day. to be reborn again. in order to live again. a life where nothing remains but love. and nothing exists but silence. in your breath. the place where love manifests and lives eternally. the space where the feeling of love for you is. that love that we share. my prayer before i go to sleep. that love that lives no matter what. whatever that “no matter what” means.

melody from the ocean

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The truth cannot be spoken.
It can only be experienced. It can only be seen.
It’s undefinable.
It can only be felt with your heart – it is an eternal vibration.
It lives in the ocean.
I always leave the door open.
No one has visited me until today.
Can you hear my voice – it’s the sound of those clenching waves which emanate a beautiful melody.
Can you hear it? Follow the voice. Follow it. It lives inside of you and is connected to the ocean.
I am there immersed in a wonder of colours. You will immediately see me: I have huge dark eyes. Profound.
You will feel the warmth and my love.
And now quiet…ppssstttt (whisper).
Pssstttt….(whisper) quiet…l i s t e n…(whisper).
the melody

Magical.

I have transcribed this extract from one of Krishnamurti’s speeches which will make you feel the melody of the ocean.

You and a friend are walking along the path… and as you go along up the path you happen to pick up something ravishingly beautiful, sparkling, a jewel of extraordinary antiquity and beauty. You are so astonished to find it… You look at it with great astonishment… You hold it for some time, amazed and silent. Then you put it very carefully in your inside pocket, button it, and are almost frightened that you might lose it or that it might lose its sparkling, shining beauty. And you put your hand outside the pocket that holds it. The other sees you doing this and sees that your face and your eyes have undergone a remarkable change. There is a kind of ecstasy, a speechless wonder, a breathless excitement. And he asks: “What is it that you have found and are so extraordinarily elated by?” you reply in a very soft, gentle voice (it seems so strange to you to hear your own voice) that you picked up truth. You don’t want to talk about it, you are rather shy; the very talking might destroy it. And your friend who is walking beside you is slightly annoyed that you are not communicating with him freely, and he says: “If you have found the truth, then let’s organize it so that others will understand it, so that others will grasp it and perhaps it will help them.” You don’t reply… You are sorry that you ever told him about it.
– J. Krishnamurti —

Poetic Lyric