It has been a while since the last time I wrote something; honestly I don’t even know if I will be writing again especially because my way of thinking is changing, literally, every hour. I am not saying with this that I am a double minded person, not at all. What I am saying here, is that my doctrinal theology and personal thinking is been transformed by the hour. A good friend described as a new skin being shed off from me and the new one is coming out. Similar to the process the snake’ skin goes through. Another friend told me that I am changing 1000%. Three weeks ago I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism meaning that my thyroid is not producing the hormone necessary to help me with my everyday activities; its symptoms are lack of concentration and memory, muscular pain, tiredness and even depression, so I was placed into treatment, that according to my doctor it will last until the day I die. Honestly I thought I was becoming mad and that all my traumas and memories of my past were embraced me, because some days I would like to erase my past, but at the same time I am reminded that wherever I am as person today is because of what I have been in the past. But then I realized that erasing the past will also erase the present; and how can I re-write the present without changing the past? Is the present a pure reflection of the things I have done or am I writing a new present every day that passes? Am I the same person yesterday and today? How can I? If I am changing every day and my thoughts are being matured, how come the past is a valid reflection of what I am now as a person? I can not change the past because it has been already lived, I can not try to change the future because it hasn’t arrived yet, so how can I live without the present and future and still be changing? The true is that we live in the past and we would like to change our future, but we completely forget of our present, and the reality is that the present makes the past and the future and we don’t even realize it. We live focusing our attention on the things we would like to become, we regret the moments we were, but do not even enjoy what we are, and I am whom I am now, I can not be what I was, not even what I will become.
Archive for November, 2008
“There is a remedy for all things but death, which will be sure to lay us out flat some time or other.”
— Miguel de Cervantes
This week three of my good friends went to very difficult moment, facing death. Well one of them did not face that this week but last year. Dani faced the sudden death of a friend due to heart complications in a surgery, David and John lost their dad’s after a long battle with cancer, and for both of them this lost has been a extremely difficult. Sometimes I would like to have the perfect words to tell so I can encourage them or being able to stretch my hand to grab theirs and hold them close to my heart, so I can share with them the pain of loosing the person who loved them the most: their father.
I have the privilege to spend, with John’s family, one of the last thanksgivings that Robert Louis Purdue Jr (Bob) had. He was a man that love God, and adore his family, and I can see in John’s life the reflection of the live of this man than I know he misses him. John send me an e-mail this morning with a comment of the evening we went to see Mozart’s Requiem: “All I can say is that I love you and that I am almost crying with the memory of the evening and of my own dad, who wanted me to love the classics far more than I ever did.” When I read this I cried also because for one moment, just a single short moment, I felt what John was feeling.
Yesterday my friend David lost his father, David Reid Johnson. I never met him personally but I knew him through the words of my friend. In one of his messages he said to me: “Nothing really to say, just hard to say goodbye to a great father” . I know he is going to the painful grief of loosing someone he loved, and for not being able to be there in the last moment.
Today in these writings I want to honor the lives of these men, a son and two fathers, and I would like to let my friends know that even though I don’t have the right words to say to soften their shock and pain, one thing they can know for sure, you can count on me.
I want to honor these people with the great part of the Mozart Requiem:
Sacrifice and prayers unto you, O Lord,
we offer with praises.
Recieve them for the souls of those
whom we commemorate this day.
Let them pass, O Lord,
from death to life.
Which you once promised to Abraham
and to his seed
I thought nothing was going to encourage me to go back into writing, but when I listened Mozart’s Requiem last night a light of hope came into me with the forces of the voices and the music. I haven’t stop o listen it. I dreamed with it. Nothing couldn’t revive my spirit, I was going down, losing all kind of passion towards the cross; loosing one of the things I love to do most: writing. Until last night when the words Lacrimosa dies illa, qua resurget ex favilla judicandus homo reus. Huic ergo parce, Deus, Pie Jesu Domine, Dona eis requiem (That day of tears when from the ashes shall arise the guilty man yo be judged. Spare them this one, O Lord. Kind Lord Jesus, Grant them peace) resounded in my ears and inner being bringing a sweet sense of the spirit of God. Through the voices I suddenly felt alive, revived and transformed. I connected not only with my Heavenly Father but to the one who taught me to listen and appreciate this kind of music: Mi Padre Fidencio. (My father). I closed my eyes and I saw “my viejo” weaving his hands and telling to listen the melody with my heart. His presence surrounded my whole life and for 50 minutes I felt as alive as a person can be through the music I love.
“Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus,
Dominus Deus Sabaoth!”
Yo pense que nada me animaria a volver a escribir pero cuando anoche escuche el Requiem de Mozart una luz de esperanza me llego entre voces y notas. No he parado de escucharlo y hasta soñe con ella. Nada podía avivar mi espíritu, me estaba cayendo en un pantano de pensares perdiendo toda clase de pasión a la cruz y perdiendo lo que mas disfruto: el escribir. Hasta anoche cuando las palabras Lacrimosa dies illa, qua resurget ex favilla judicandus homo reus. Huic ergo parce, Deus, Pie Jesu Domine, Dona eis requiem ( El día de las lágrimas cuando las cenizas se levanten y el hombre culpable sea juzgado. Perdonalo oh Dios. Señor Jesús misericordioso, concedele la paz) resono en mis oidos y en lo mas intimo de mi ser trayendo una dulce presencia de la majestad sublime de Dios. A través de las voces, por un momento, me sentí vivo, revivido y transformado. Conecté no solo con mi Padre Celestial sino con mi padre Fidencio. Cerre mis ojos y mire a mi viejo moviendo sus manos y diciendome que aprendiera a escuchar con la melodía de mi corazón. Su presencia me rodeo y por 50 minutos me sentí tan vivo como una persona se puede sentir a tráves de la musica que disfruto.
“Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus,
Dominus Deus Sabaoth!”
I wont post my thoughts anymore, but I will post my writings(only in Spanish) on Entre Voces y Notas Aqui es donde seguire escribiendo pero ya no mis pensares sino mis escritos.
“En el borde de la vida y la muerte, nos vamos bailando la suerte de este pobre corazón”
- Cuco sanchéz
Pareciera como si las palabras se me hubieran ido, como si en un instante dejara de comunicarme a través de este medio. Puede que sea posible que el escribir y compartir mis caminos haya terminado. Han sido casi tres años abriendo mi corazón como he podido, mas sin embargo creo que ese corazón esta cansado de compartir, de compartir palabras que muchas veces no tenian sentido o que muchas veces trataban de encontrar ese mismo sentido. Palabra de libertad y de atadura, palabras de sueños y realidades, palabras de intensidad y de encuentro, palabras de vida y de muerte, palabras de lloro y de risas, palabras de amigos y de enemigos, palabras de busqueda, de encuentro y aún asi encontrarse todavía perdido; palabras de esperanza y de angustia, palabras de encuentro y desencuentro. Es tiempo que el silencio en estas escrituras calle y no vuelva hablar mas para ver si asi pueda volver a desenvolver las letras que se han ocultado y poder pensar lo que ha dejado de ser. Gracias por leerme y querer conocer, gracias por sus comentarios que me hacian saber que estaba presente. Gracias por dejar que estas mis palabras, que muchas veces eran simplemente palabras, pudieran entrar a su lectura y posiblemente a su pensar. Gracias por estos tres años de una intensa y continua busqueda de mi mismo. Por un momento los dejo, no se si regrese, puede, pero no lo prometo. Una ves mas gracias por siempre leer lo que este buscador empedernido trataba de encontrar. ¿Lo encontre?, no lo se, pero por lo menos lo pude compartir.
“On the edge between life and death, we go dancing to the luck of this poor heart.”
-Cuco Sanchéz
It seems like my words are gone, suddenly I feel not to share anymore. May be my journey to share my thoughts has come to an end. Three years sharing my heart in every way possible, but there is a possibility that this heart is tired of sharing; sharing non-sense words or may be trying to find that sense in life. Words of freedoms, and enslavement, words of dreams and realities, words of encounters and intensity, words of life and death, words of crying and laugh, words of friend and enemies, words of searching, finding and losing them again. It is time for the silence to quite down on these stories, to no talk anymore to see if I can be able to unwrap these words and find what has stop of being. Thank you for reading my stories and wanting to know more, thank you for your comments, those helped me to know that I was present. Thank you for letting these words, that usually were just simple words, to enter to your lecture and met you think a little bit. Thank you for these three years of intense and continuous search of myself. For one moment I will stop writing, I don’t know if I will back, may be, I can not promise it. Thank you once again for reading what this seeker was trying to find. Have I found it? I do not know, but at least I shared with you.
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