“Magari,” he sighed wistfully as he sat on the cliff overlooking the bay.
Instantly, the wind began to stir. She whipped the waves to a frenzy, driving them towards the beach where they would have rolled on to anyway, albeit faster now.
If only I could, he wondered.
“Oh, but you can,” replied the wind.
Then, the wind settled, letting the waves rest a little in the warm afternoon sun.
“Don’t take it seriously, dad,” my eldest son said to me, when we were playing Monopoly along with my girlfriend a while ago. Every time my sons make remarks like that, I become alert. Sure, I knew he meant it literally, he was telling me not to be absorbed by the game. Still, this remark had a deeper meaning to it, and a few days later it dawned on me what he really meant. Whether or not he was aware of this, he meant that I could simply enjoy the game and our get-together.
There is a place where nothing exists, and from which everything comes into existence. Here, everything is present, everything has already been created. Here lies the essence, waiting to be shaped as we desire. Creation and materialization as one, from ourselves, within ourselves.
Unrest in the world, unrest all around me, unrest in my heart. Situations, things, people turning my world upside down. All of this created by myself. Through my beliefs, my thoughts and my reoccurring drama. They push me under, they ravish my sense of well-being. Their pitch-black thunderclouds cast my world into darkness. Uncertain and utterly unworthy is how I feel.
‘Why didn’t I tell you?’ it sounded in his thoughts, and in his memories he again saw and felt how, he and his father used to hug in the past. In those days, they both expressed clearly what they felt for each other. Later on, when he was grown-up, it became less. Even though deep within, the fire of desire raged to tell his father how much he loved him and how thankful he was for him.