In all the journeys I make I end up remembering (learning once again) that when I speak and it hurts, it is because I am getting far from the creative power of life, that what is good for me may not be good for others, that travelling does not imply open-mindedness, that having a stable job is not synonymous to dissatisfaction, that holding a university degree does not guarantee wisdom for life nor respect for otherness, that I am more and more interested in investing additional time in meetings and conversations with people who do not see things in only one (rigid) way.
That being able to decide what to do with one’s own time is a birthright that one must learn to claim and that it must be exercised each day with more conviction, decision and peace of mind.
That I love being a gardener, that I am delighted with the worlds I can create with words and photographs, that we will always (Always) find on our way people who are wise enough, who have actually experienced nonsensical wars, to talk to us about Love with a lot of integrity and no romance, and who will cause a true revolution in our belief system, to which we are used to hold on to, sometimes sadly because, in our ignorance, we are terrified about the idea of others thinking different to us and, in spite of that, being happy.
Each time I travel I end up remembering (learning once again) that the more life stories heard, the more humbleness is required when speaking our mind, that it is true that when we speak we are treading on a holy ground which is the inner world of those who are listening to us and that, because of this, it is essential to walk barefoot and tenderly.
That I am not interested in trying to convince anyone of anything anymore (and I am not interested either in being convinced), because it is exactly the same as making war: we lay siege to the other’s mind, believing in our own righteousness and possession of the Truth, so that then we can bombard it with our own reasons.
That I am not interested in how many countries you may have visited o how much social work you have done, but in how many inner limitations, in your mind, you managed to break at the sight of difference.
That I am not interested either in opening my mind excluding the possibility that other people believe and feel different: that a true open mind is that which comprises a space larger than before and includes it all (yes, All you can think of). That, otherwise, it is actually arrogance dressed as progressive ideas. That we always (Always) have the option to focus our attention towards what strengthens us.
That, really, I am not interested anymore in defending any kind of truths (not even the only two I still hold legitimate), that the feeling of living and letting others live is invaluable. That each one of us finds the beauty and wisdom they need in their own way. That imposing our help is the same as a country invading another one in crisis in order to “save it”: that helping is literally standing in someone else’s shoes and listening to what they say they need (which may well be very different from, and even the opposite to, what one supposes). That I cannot give what I do not have.
That there is no “human being” but only the individual experience of each one of the inhabitants of the Earth (and that therein lies the big difference).
That I am happy when I go out at night to watch the starry night, when I remember I am part of an invisible and ancestral tide from which we emerged and which, at least until now, is a seemingly irrefutable certainty: we all come from the explosion of a star, and the universe is expanding without excluding not even one of its components. Share with me any reasons about anything and I will gladly accept them if they are grounded on these two ideas.
I then celebrate, with these words, not the fact of travelling, but that of getting closer to one’s own authenticity. I celebrate the understanding in the body that we have not signed any life contract and that, therefore, it is urgent for us to keep on learning to Love: not to want with the sticky affection that so many movies and books have sold us, but being translators of that subtle, tender and powerful Force for which we are alive.
The Ways of Infinity 