Letter to self . To you. From someone. 

“So it’s been raining more than usual on me this month — the melancholia, the open pores of my own longing, the bleeding wounds of our transgressions, still longing to be healed, the fragility of the human heart, the deep layers of ache stored in our souls, the constellations of our hurts and joys — one day the light, another the vast emptiness we carry. I think of how damn little we know or let ourselves be known, when we half-smile and say we’re fine, of all the stories of survival and of sorrow hiding not just in another’s heart but bleeding through our own.

There is a door around each heart guarded (and often heavily locked) by its owner, which cannot be unlocked by anybody else — no matter how hard love can try to break & enter you, or how badly you want it, need it, beg it to save you. 

Unless you, of your own accord, decide it’s time to finally forgive yourself for all the hurt you’ve caused or received, and let life fill your lungs anew. 

Nobody else can ultimately save you from yourself. Nobody else will save you BUT yourself. 

For those of us who’ve known real darkness, while lost in the valley of the shadow of death, our logic often fails us, sometimes there REALLY is no light, no logical belief, no factual reason to keep going.Nothing you say or do to me deep in that cold night of the soul will make me jump for joy and put a smile on my face. Don’t bother.

But what I found works in my case is not striving for joy & heaven but simply lessening the load of hell and getting through the day, freeing myself from the foreverness and the impossibility of my burden, to merely learning to be right here & now, and carrying it for just ANOTHER DAY.

Please don’t go yet. Today is NOT the day you die. 

You are not your past, the mistakes you’ve made, the happiness you’re feeling cheated out of. 

You are not the hurt you still carry, the losses that keep piling, the stories of survival they forced you to accept as yours. You’re not the cage, you are the bird that sings it open. 

You are the the storyteller, the creator, the hand behind the wheel. Even when all the roads are blocked, new ones are waiting to be walked into existence — by your feet. 

There’s poetry still dripping from your fingers, miles of metaphor & skin to be explored, a truer world sprouting like grass among the ruins of your life. 

It’s just the way it is down here. Some will leave you & others will stay. Some will break you & others will love you back to life. Just show them, as you show yourself, the way back in. 

And all this waiting, this aloneness, this becoming, this exile from yourself is just another stubborn way the spirit takes you home, in human chests, where you belong. 

You haven’t seen it all. There’s beauty still in store that will collapse your lungs, there’s laughter trapped inside your bones, as if they’d never known the taste of breaking, there is new life you will create unlike the one that trapped you, there’s trust as if you’d never lost a damn person or thing, and you will bless the fires that brought you to this love. 

Know that the lack of music can also be a song, the emptiness prepares you for the rising, the darkness can’t be spared but it can be danced in, and all these disappointments are but sidetones of a truer love affair with life.

Don’t go like this. Too bright. Too short. Too soon. Your loss diminishes me. Your life is an unfinished chapter in my story. You ache is burning through my lines. You may feel ready to let go, but we are not. 

Wherever you are. Whoever you are. However we got here. 

I love you. I know you. I am you. 

Please stay.”

(Excerpt from an article I can’t find the link to ;( Please pass it on to anyone feeling down) 


En un reino encantado (Spa & Eng) 

En un reino encantado donde los hombres nunca pueden llegar, o quizás donde los hombres transitan eternamente sin darse cuenta…En un reino mágico, donde las cosas no tangibles, se vuelven concretas…

Había una vez…
Un estanque maravilloso.

Era una laguna de agua cristalina y pura donde nadaban peces de todos los colores existentes y donde todas las tonalidades del verde se reflejaban permanentemente…

Hasta ese estanque mágico y transparente se acercaron a bañarse haciéndose mutua compañía, la tristeza y la furia.

Las dos se quitaron sus vestimentas y desnudas, las dos, entraron al estanque.

La furia, apurada (como siempre está la furia), urgida -sin saber por qué- se baño rápidamente y más rápidamente aún salió del agua…

Pero la furia es ciega, o por lo menos, no distingue claramente la realidad, así que desnuda y apurada, se puso, al salir, la primera ropa que encontró…
Y sucedió que esa ropa no era la suya, sino la de la tristeza…
Y así vestida de tristeza, la furia se fue.
Muy calma, y muy serena, dispuesta como siempre, a quedarse en el lugar donde está, la tristeza terminó su baño y sin ningún apuro (o mejor dicho sin conciencia del paso del tiempo), con pereza y lentamente, salió del estanque.
En la orilla encontró que su ropa ya no estaba.

Como todos sabemos, si hay algo que a la tristeza no le gusta es quedar al desnudo, así que se puso la única ropa que había junto al estanque, la ropa de la furia.

Cuentan que desde entonces, muchas veces uno se encuentra con la furia, ciega, cruel, terrible y enfadada, pero si nos damos el tiempo de mirar bien, encontramos que esta furia que vemos, es sólo un disfraz, y que detrás del disfraz de la furia, en realidad… está escondida la tristeza.

In an enchanted kingdom where men can never reach, or perhaps where men pass forever without realizing …
In a magical kingdom, where no tangible things become concrete …

Once Upon a time…

A wonderful pond.

It was a lagoon of crystal clear and pure water where fish of all existing colors swam and where all shades of green were permanently reflected..

To this magical and transparent pond, they approached to bathe, becoming each other’s company, sadness and anger.

Both, their clothes they removed, and bare their souls as the two entered the pond.

Fury, rushed (as is always with rage), urged without knowing why, bathed faster and even faster he came out of the water …

But anger is blind, or at least not clearly able to distinguish reality, so naked and in a hurry, he put on, upon exiting, the first clothes he found …

And it happened that this clothing was not his, but that of sadness …

And dressed in sadness, anger left.

Very calm, and serene, ready as always to stay where it is, comfortable, sadness finished her bath and without any trouble (or I rather say, without awareness and consciousness of the passing of time), lazily and slowly she left the pond.

On the banks she found that her clothes were gone.

And As we all know, if something sadness does not like it is to be bare and naked, so she got the only clothes beside the pond, the clothing of fury.

They say that since then, often one encounters rage, blind, cruel, terrible and angry, but if we take the time to look deeper and beyond, we find that this anger that we see is just a disguise, a costume, and that behind the guise of fury, rage and anger actually … sadness is hidden. 

My life …

“There is an assignment, a destiny task which falls to me. I am asked to take each and every situation I come into and to witness the pattern, the design, the way it goes. Then I release it through me.
“I take everything that has been and I let it all go. Sometimes this is very arduous. Other times it is instantaneous, effortless. It doesn’t matter. Whatever way it is, I’ll be there.

“I am fascinated and engrossed in the human dilemma, the soul drama. I have an endless appetite for putting things together and taking them apart. But I am very serious and intent in all that I do.

“It is one of those tasks that is almost too crucial to let myself be aware of. I don’t want to get in the way. So I pretend it’s just the way I pass time. I act as casual and cool as possible, even with myself. Oddly enough, it works.

“The truth is, though, that there is nothing more vital than what I do. Because I’m around, things move differently. I’m a cross between a catalyst and a loyal follower of the existing pattern as long as I possibly can.

“My impulse is to preserve, if possible. When that’s not happening, I will get in there and make it obvious that this is not the way the flow is supposed to go.

“I am immensely powerful and deeply hidden. I work between the lines. But I am so good at what I do. I can spend extended cycles in the outlandish assignments. And I will look and act straight the whole while.
“I’ve got a job to do. I am witnessing the whole thing but sometimes you just gotta pay close attention to the weave.”
(~ Ellias Lonsdale from his Star Sparks)


Shut up and Be

Da Quote:

“The flaw with words is that they always make us feel enlightened, but when we turn around to face the world they always fail us and we end up facing the world as we always have, without enlightenment. 

For this reason, a warrior seeks to act rather than to talk, and to this effect he gets a new description of the world—a new description where talking is not that important, and where new acts have new reflections, and a new world is born.”

“I am not interested in peoples’ various explanations of what is inexplicable. I am not interested in peoples’ opinions masquerading as Ultimate Truth. I am not interested in verbal gymnastics as proof of enlightenment. I am not interested in what people say, but in what they do and how they do it.
I am interested in how we act, in how we demonstrate whatever enlightenment we may have.”


Punto de Fase – Alonso del Río

Punto de Fase el el momento en donde todo sucede a la vez, es el tiempo donde todo se converge,

donde la dualidad se rompe en su propio juego, mostrando su cuádruple forma

y el Gran Espíritu respira para que todo comience de nuevo,

Punto de Fase ese el opuesto a un agujero negro, es un agujero de luz,

una puerta que conecta lo de adentro con lo de afuera, lo de arriba con lo de abajo.

Cuanto más nos acercamos a un punto de fase,

el tiempo se acelera hasta alcanzar la luz, luego, no hay mas tiempo, por un tiempo,

hasta que inicias un nuevo ciclo.

El tamaño  del ciclo no importa, sólo importa que mientras más grande es el ciclo que culmina,

Es mas fácil reconocer el punto de fase.

Todo se acelera, hasta convertirse en lo opuesto.

El día en la noche, lo interno en lo externo, el silencio en sonido, el dolor en luz.

Existen pequeños ciclos que forman parte de ciclos mayores y estos ciclos mayores están incluidos en otros más grandes aún

y así hasta llegar al ciclo mayor,

en el cual nuestro universo se expande casi eternamente y luego se contrae hasta llegar a su manifestación.

Quiénes entran a un punto de fase?

Todo lo que existe, todo lo que vibre.

Todo lo que se pueda expresar a través de un ciclo,

Un hombre, una cultura, una galaxia.

Estamos llegando a un punto de fase,

pero esto no significaría mucho sino fuera porque estamos entrando en fase con un ciclo mucho mayor,

uno que dura millones de años.

El tiempo del último día no es igual al tiempo del primer día.

El tiempo se está acelerando hasta volverse luz. Hasta volverse estrella.


Extraído del CD “Punto de Fase” Alonso del Río



Letter and poem from dad / Carta y poema de papá (1998)

Carta enviada de mi papá a mi en Mayo 10, 1998 Lima, Perú:

Observa las cosas como son en realidad. 
Todos tienen su propio carácter, el cual es diferente a como lo vemos.
Cuando algo ocurre, lo único que esta en nuestro poder es nuestra actitud hacia ese suceso, podemos aceptarlo o rechazarlo, lo que nos atemoriza y desconsuela no son los acontecimientos ni las cosas, sino la forma como pensamos y como interpretamos su importancia.
Las personas y las cosas no son lo que deseamos ni lo que aparentan ser sino lo que son.
Armoniza tus acciones con la vida como realmente es.
Los acontecimientos no te lastiman, pero tu percepción de ellos si puede hacerlo.
Que no haya vergüenza ni culpa, examinemos nuestras ideas (nos hacen bien?)
Cree tu propio mérito. 
Aprovecha a cabalidad todo lo que ocurre.
Cuida lo que tienes en este momento, no hay nada que perder.
La vida buena es la vida de serenidad interior, soportar con tranquilidad es el precio.
Concentrate en tu deber principal.
No prestes ninguna atención a las cosas que no te conciernen.
Ajusta tus deseos a la realidad.
Te quiero, ojalá tanto como Dios,
Up to Heaven!
tu pá, Peter

…y en la misma carta un poema adjunto de Rudyard Kipling:

No te Rindas
Cuando las cosas vayan mal como a veces pasa.
Cuando el camino parezca cuesta arriba.
Cuando tus recursos mengüen y tus deudas suban,
Y al querer sonreír, tal vez suspiras.
Cuando tus preocupaciones te tengan agobiado,
Descansa si te urge, pero no te rindas.
La vida es rara con sus vueltas y tumbos
Como todos muchas veces comprobamos.
Y muchos fracasos suelen acontecer
Aún pudiendo vencer de haber perseverado.
Así es que no te rindas aunque el paso sea lento.
El triunfo puede estar a la vuelta de la esquina.
El triunfo es el fracaso visto al revés;
Es el matiz plateado de esa nube incierta
Que no te deja ver su cercanía…
Aún estando bien cerca.
Por eso, decídete a luchar sin duda,
Porque en verdad, cuando todo empeora,
el que es valiente, no se rinde, lucha y triunfa!

Letter from my dad to me on May 10, 1998 Lima, Perú:

Look at things as they really are.
Everyone has their own character, which is different from what we see.
When something happens, all that it’s in our power is our attitude towards this event, we can accept it or reject it, what we fear and grief are not the events or things, but the way we think and how we interpret its significance.
People and things are not what we want or what they seem but what they are.
Harmonize your actions with life as it really is.
The events will not hurt you, but your perception of them can.
Let there be no shame or guilt,  but let’s examine our ideas (do they serve us any good?)
Create your own merit.
Take advantage fully of everything that happens to you.
Take care of what you have right now, there is nothing to lose.
The good life is the life of inner serenity, quietly enduring is the price.
Concentrate on your main duty.
Do not pay any attention to things that do not concern you.
Adjust your desires to reality.
I love you, hopefully as much as God does,
Up to heaven!!!
your dad,
 …and in the same letter a Poem by Rudyard Kipling:
Don’t Qui
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest, if you must, but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow
You may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up,
When he might have captured the victor’s cup,
And he learned too late when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far,
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit
It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.

Emily Dickinson

My life closed twice before its close --
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me

So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.

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