Delusion met Perfection at a coffe shop and they fell in love.

Such a turbolent passionate all consuming love.

They didn’t leave each other for days.

An endless vortex of feelings.

An inseparable bond.

Until one day Reality stormed in with no warning.

Delusion and Perfection stared at Reality.

They couldn’t stop staring.

They started to crumble.

The pain was real.

They quickly dissolved into nothingness.

Then Acceptance walked into the same coffe shop and invited Reality for a chat.

They talked for hours.

They compassionately listened to each other.

They didn’t crumble.

They faced their insecurities and their fears.

A new friendship was born and destined to last.

A new authentic relationship where there was room for flaws.

Room for discussion.

Room for growth.

Room for repair.

Room for real love.

There was a man with gray hair who lived in a gray town. The sky and everything around him were gray too. The sun was never too bright, the night never too black. And as you can guess at this point, all was gray and so were his feelings. He was neutral about everything and everyone. He was living a life of solitude and neutrality. He would do the same things every day over and over again without exception. ‘What a gray life I have!’ he would say. Even his jokes were neutral. He didn’t want anyone in his life and not many people would talk to him anyway. He would eat gray oats with gray milk every morning, a gray carrot soup with bread for lunch and a gray veggie soup for dinner. He grew his own food to avoid going to the nearby colorful towns. ‘They’re so eccentric, so ridiculous.. I am not going there ever again!’. But this gray man used to be a very different man. He had been in love with a kind lady named Vera. They loved each other so much and lived in a colourful town by a river. They would go traveling and exploring every time they had a chance. Their life together was a real adventure! They had been happy for many years, but one day Vera starting to notice that her clothes were loosing their brightness. Not so vivid colours any more. Little by little all her clothes and her skin turned gray. You couldn’t see her blue curious eyes any more. They had turned gray too. He grew very concerned about Vera. He tried to dye her clothes. He bought all the colourful foods he could find. He painted the house with the brightest colours. He changed all the furniture in their house to make it the most appealing shiny house ever… But, finally, all his efforts turned out to be in vain. One day Vera turned completely white. So pale and weak. She looked at him and said she couldn’t recognize herself anymore. “I have to go now”, she told him. That was all she said. He couldn’t see her anymore either. He stood there. He watched her leave him. As she was leaving, he started to become gray too. He knew he had to leave too. This colourful town wasn’t his home anymore.

Some people say he is still waiting for his Vera to come back to him. But most people say he became white too and left the gray town to go and explore the nearby monochromatic towns. Finally, looking for his soul, for his own truth, for Life itself.

Flying out

This intense craving to be understood

To be listened to

To be seen

Like a starving monster that devours your very own existence

It comes out for life

It craves life

It is life itself

Are we ever really here? 

Are we ever really alive? 

What does it mean to be alive? 

The monster didn’t answer

The monster just was

The monster is you

You are your own darkness

You are your own beauty 

And all this energy around

All this desire to be

What does move us? 

What does make us who we are? 

Are we a reflection of others’ people opinions? 

Are we a cocktail of randomly arranged circumstances? 

I embrace this crazyness

I embrace this energy 

I embrace what I cannot comprehend 

I just rest on this seat, surrounded by strangers who share my own fate 

My fellow travellers 

Kids on leash, business men with businesses clothes, coffee people, youngsters who crave fun, shiny youngesters, headphones people, backpack people, people with too many suitcases, people who choose comfort, matching cute couples, perfect hair people, confused babies, disconnected people, unconcerned people, duty free people, people with long stories, people with short stories, gym people, holiday people, bored hostesses, people who just want to go home to their comfort, people and people…

And I. 

Here I am. In my civilised clothes. Adapting, conforming, being with all of you. No better nor worse. 

I just am who I am. 

Hiding this shared secret like you. Feeling and sensing this energy. Or maybe just believing that I am actually capable of that. 

Hiding from the monster who is always watching over you. 

Life is a constant leap of faith. 

Let’s live it. 

Let’s go on holiday, shall we? 

Flying in

Here we are again. Official travelers. With a passport, a backpack, new stories and a bittersweet smile. For some more smiley, for some more bitter. 

Some people asked me: “so you’re a teacher, then?“. It felt good to hear those words, even though I know that the only real teacher is you, Life.

This is a love letter to you, Life. 

You are everything and no words can contain you.

You are that guy who travelled around Norway for 10 days eating only 6kg of cheese. You are that 18 year old who has decided to travel around the world to understand who he is. You are that lady from Germany who flies to Barcelona every weekend because she loves it here and can’t quit her job. You are that 35 year old man who thinks is too old to find a better job. You are that funny IT guy who wants to do music because why not?, you are that old lady walking around the streets, not rushing, not smiling, just minding her own business.

And there’s me. Feeling on holiday for the first time in ages. Feeling like I can do this. Feeling like I am just performing for myself. I don’t need to be funny, presentable, interesting or anything at all. No one cares. Especially I don’t care. My only job is to keep me here. 

When we have comfort, we seek discomfort. When we have nothing, we seek the essential. And when we have the essential, we seek more. When we have everything, we are bored.

Where is the balance? Where is the truth? 

Isn’t just being Here the greatest gift of all possible gifts? 

But we are still humans, we still crave. 

The monster doesn’t like to rest. 

Or maybe my monster used to be quieter, but now it’s awake. Now it sees everything. It needs to be taken care of. It needs a lot of attention. It needs to be soaked in kindness and safety. I can’t leave it on its own for too long. It needs the care it didn’t get when it was younger. Maybe my monster is me.

Maybe she is actually a “she”. Or maybe she is a part of me. I don’t know yet. I need more getaways for my monster. I need her to see the world. To show her that she can actually do it. To support her. To show her that she doesn’t need to be scared of herself. That all that happened was supposed to happen.

That every life is life. 

Energy is energy in all its forms. 

I feel you, Life. 

Just be, just be. 

And all this beauty around her soothed her pain.

She saw more and more of it. She wanted to be swallowed by it. To be one with it.

An instinct to be alive. Just to be.

She realised she had never been lost, after all.

If we can really be, feel this energy, feel this pull, just feel… I believe we can really fly. We can really embrace this powerful gift.

A quick sand that keeps you going. It keeps you grounded.

It keeps you here. Because The Here is all we have.

A terrying powerful clarity that moves you in every direction, but always Here. Always you.

Your unique Self that joins the story of everyone.

Let this quick sand swallow you. Let it make you feel alive.

I know I can’t drive and that’s ok

I know I can’t be calm all the time and that’s ok

I know I can’t run as fast I’d like and that’s ok

I know I can’t be alone sometimes and that’s ok

I know I can’t write in rhymes and that’s ok

I know I can’t stand doing the dishes and that’s ok

I know I can’t breathe sometimes and that’s ok

I know I can’t forget and that’s ok

I know I can’t love my parents and that’s ok

I know I can’t cope with queues and that’s ok

I know I can’t be perfect and that’s ok

But I know I can be myself and that’s great!