The Zahir

In the hospital Love had spoken to me: "I am everything and I am nothing. I am the wind, and I cannot enter doors and windows that are shut."

And I said to Love: "But I am open to you."

And Love said to me: " The wind is made of air. The air is inside your house, but everything is shut up. The furniture will get covered in dust, the damp will ruin the paintings and stain the walls. You will continue to breathe, you will know a small part of me, but I am not a part. I am Everything and you will never know that."

I saw the furniture was covered in dust, that the paintings were being corroded by damp, and I had no alternative but to open the windows and doors. When I did that, the wind swept away everything. I wanted to cling to my memories, to protect what I thought I had worked hard to acheive, but everything had disapperaed and I was as empty as the Steppes."

--- Paulo Coelho

Mark Twain Quote

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

Ecclesiastes

For everything there is a season,

And a time for every matter under heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

A time to keep, and a time to throw away;

A time to tear, and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate,

A time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

I

Barren of events,

Rich in pretensions

My earthly life.
Obscurity

My real name.
Wholly unto myself

I exist.
I wrap no soul

In my embrace.
No mentor worthy

Of my calibre

Have I.
I am all alone

Between failure

And frustration.
I am the red thread

Between

Nothingness And Eternity.

By Sri Chinmoy

The Lost Generation Video

Ithaca

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,

pray that the road is long,

full of adventure, full of knowledge.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the angry Poseidon—do not fear them:

You will never find such as these on your path

if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine

emotion touches your spirit and your body.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,

if you do not carry them within your soul,

if your heart does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.

That the summer mornings are many, when,

with such pleasure, with such joy

you will enter ports seen for the first time;

stop at Phoenician markets,

and purchase fine merchandise,

mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

and sensual perfumes of all kinds,

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

visit many Egyptian cities,

to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.

To arrive there is your ultimate goal.

But do not hurry the voyage at all.

It is better to let it last for many years;

and to anchor at the island when you are old,

rich with all you have gained on the way,

not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.

Without her you would never have set out on the road.

She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.

Wise as you have become, with so much experience,

you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

CONSTANTINE CAVAFY (1863–1933)
translated by Rae Dalven

LOVE POEMS FROM GOD

What keeps us alive,

what allows us to endure?

I think it is the hope of loving,

or being loved.

I heard a fable once

about the sun going on a journey

to find its source,

and how the moon wept

without her lover’swarm gaze.

We weep when light does not reach our hearts.

We wither like fields if someone close

does not rain their kindness upon us.

--- Daniel Ladinsky.