If I had more words

I feel I sometimes don’t write because I lack enough words, because my vocabulary is so short, so restricted. If I had more words in my medieval chest, what else would I say with them? Would I be able to describe the beauty that I see, that I hear, that I smell? Would I be…

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Mirror musings

Projections are my favourite psychological phenomenon. The transfer of part of our unconscious content to another being. That transfer of energy occurs from one part of our mind to another part of our mind. It is not really externalised. The external ‘hook’ does not demand projection, it mostly remains unaware. The part of our mind…

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The watching neighbour

One of the most repeated sentences in my school was “You shall love your neighbour as yourself”. As a child I always thought the difficult part was to love others, taking for granted that I would always love myself. With time I realised that loving oneself was the toughest half of the sentence and an…

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A sack of ideas

In the old days, ideas were regarded to be in an ethereal cloud. Having an idea, being inspired, would be experienced as if one of those drops in the cloud was passing through us. We wouldn’t be the source of the idea, but the channel. How often do we wonder where this or that idea…

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Ode to being lost

We spend most of our life searching, trying to fill the void we are born with. The original sin of the separation of our conscious and unconscious minds. We enter the labyrinth of the million corners, lanes, and fake lights. Just some sugar to get us going until our next ‘discovery’. To no avail. Why…

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In search of the search

I sometimes have the feeling that I talk and discuss ‘the Search’ more than I actually search. As if I were discussing the pros and cons of each strategy to climb the Everest without actually taking a step up. Or maybe the Matterhorn. After all, I’m an introvert and I wouldn’t like to find myself…

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A bag of leftovers

Called by another life, the life in which we were… us. It knocks at our door, timidly, almost hopelessly. In the vain expectation that we might remember who we were. Almost as if it were reluctant to burst our bubble, knowing how much it would hurt. It sees us from the other side. Loving us,…

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Our voice in what we listen to

I remember the mixtapes (actual 20th century tapes) that we crafted for that special someone. They were full of thought, of effort, of emotion, of anticipation, of love. A compilation is a sort of creation. It is not a list, it is more than that. It is a language. A pile of words placed in…

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The beggar

The shackle on one sideAnd your heart on the other, meanwhile, bleedsAnd the beggar always by your sideYour fellow travellerWhen the stars will fadeYou will come too Héroes del Silencio, The stranded mermaid I always saw the beggar, all beggars, as leeches trying to feed on others, on me. Trying to take what I had…

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Wanting and waiting

Why do we want what we want? One day we discover a new hole that wasn’t there before, a gap we need to fill, a want. It becomes a need we must satisfy. I don’t mean wanting water when one is thirsty, but the other things we want, the ones that look like choices. What…

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On the shore

Like so many people, I often feel like I miss the sea. Walking down the beach the other day, I thought that most of the time what we miss is not so much the sea but the shore. Not so much diving or sailing but being in front of it. Not in the distance, not…

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Our little tribulations

As I passed by the flat of one of my neighbours, I remembered that someone died alone there a few years ago and took weeks to be found. Months later, a young couple moved in. Now their toddler’s toys were spread in front of their door, illustrating our inevitable cycle of life and death with…

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The sea that unites all islands

I think about the public in a concert or a mob in the street. They act as One. People doing things they would never dare doing if they were alone. For a few moments they stop being individuals with an independent conscience and they become one with the group. They abandon themselves. They surrender to…

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Forgiving oneself

When I was young and I heard about the scars that life leaves in you, I thought they were the result of events that had happened to you. But no. It’s your own sins that scar you the deepest. Over and again, last call for sinWhile everyone’s lost, the battle is wonWith all these things…

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A falling leaf

Some days, I just sit here and watch. Here. Now. A falling leaf. A leaf that has accomplished its aim in the world and is now dropped by the tree, no longer needed. It floats, it dances briefly, waving goodbye, and falls. It now paves my new way. Thank you, my dear. Know that your…

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Fear of pain

It’s funny how we think we have read something in a book, in a blog, something that touches us, and when we go back to read it again it’s just not there. Maybe there are some words that vaguely resemble what we remembered, but the clear idea we had in our minds is not there,…

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A chasm and a bridge

But look in the mirror for the other one,the other one who walks with you Antonio Machado The original sin. A crime we did not commit and yet we have to atone for. An inherent part of ourselves as humans. The partition of our minds. A few days ago, I read a post about Jung’s…

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It is always today

It is interesting that “want” (the noun) means “a lack or deficiency of something”. I guess, “to want” would mean to experience this lack or deficiency. To want is to feel a void.

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As we ride towards the sunset

As we ride towards the sunset, I ask myself whether the end will ever come, whether the sunset is a place, a real place. An end to the rainbow. A place to rest, to die.  This thought makes me stop. The others look back at me, no words. I am not ready, I say. Ed…

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The Spinning Top

After reading Jung’s book on Dreams, I now tend to see all the characters in my dreams as part of me. Even if they look different, played by different “actors”, they are all me. Little parts of me who, together, constitute the whole of me. I had this same feeling when I read Demian (Hesse)…

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