Wandering Thought # 241

‏الحبّ هو أن تجد شيئاً جميلاً في الذي تُحبهُ كلّ يوم.

Every lived life rises on the foundation of an unlived, imagined life that could’ve been but never did.

The idols are big in proportion to the smallness of the faith.

Science can purge God from the human imagination the day it can vanquish poetry.

It is our spiritual vacuum that we attempt to fill with pleasure, without succeeding.

Solitude is the virtue of the strong.

The moth does not give up until it is burned.

You can win every very battle but still lose the war.

There is no suffering that cannot be surmounted by death; there is no death that cannot be vanquished by love.

بعضُ الأشخاص بلسمٌ للروح.

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Wandering Thought # 135

A poem is built on the premise of not getting its subject — being overwhelmed by it — which, in the end, it leaves shrouded in a deeper veil of mystery than it first found it — it handles it as something sacred, it sanctifies it. Yet this process, seen in the right light, is revelatory, is the conduit of the proper living, and shows a deep intimation of life that reason, insisting on its tyranny, can never understand.

Wandering Thought # 134

We are happier when the radio plays our favorite song, without us having to play it ourselves. There is always a special flavor for the gratuitous and unsought when it enters our life, whether it’s a song, a thought, a bird, a poem, or a love.

If our society could have a nickname it would probably be this, “society of the spectacle.” We are nothing if we don’t appear, if we don’t show, and the more we appear and show the more we are. The self is constructed in the act of being projected for others to see, otherwise, alone, it is non-existent. We are addicts to the image, and cannot fathom the value of something without the aim of it ultimately being shown, reflected to others. This is the true tyranny of our age, unrecognized and practiced by all. Nothing is more alien to us than the spirit and the intuition of the sacred.

In time disappointments become blessings, as they disillusion us and bring us to the truth of the matter and of ourselves. They are the occasions through which we know ourselves deeply, through which we change and become who we are more intimately. They are the flavor of life.

The whole world can chain you, deceive you and frustrate you, but it cannot break you if you maintain your inner freedom. It can bring you to your knees, but it cannot prevent your triumph, as you choose to live with openness and joy in your heart, sucking to the full the marrow of each moment, turning its vinegar into honey and wine.

In our modern world the most widespread pandemic is a silent one, anxiety.

Life is no closer to the infant than it is to the old man.

May God grant me the joy of birds as they sing at and at dusk.

Wandering Thought # 133

There is no outer salvation for a man trapped in the web of his own thoughts.

Dreams are also events in one’s life, and at times more important events than the ones that actually happen, for they hint at a deep shift in one’s inner life.

They do not know the depth and fullness of love those who have no intuition of the sacred.

Out of tune with the spirit of the age, I read books and write poetry.

Not wealth or social status, what separates one man from another, what elevates one man above the other, is his spiritual depth and knowledge.

If you don’t know what you want, you will waste every opportunity you get.

One of the ironies of life is that we can well spend most of it until we figure out what we actually want, and once we do life has already been mostly spent.

A poet’s longing is not for everybody; if he compares it with that of others, he will only feel acutely lonely.

A man will not stay with a woman for sex, no matter how good it is.

Wandering Thought # 132

You may forget your past, but it will always remember you.

It is on the power of our future that we construct our past.

Poetry is my response to an inhuman world.

Write less; say more. Ultimately, just listen to the silence.

In this life nothing was promised to us but death, the rest is what we make of it.

Solitude is the aura of great things.

Certain books, like certain people, can only be met at the right time.

A new book is a new journey.

Distance gives things their proper value, and gives us the needed perspective.

Discipline over freedom.

When all beauty is gone and faded, can you look into your lover’s eyes with fire in your heart?

Wandering Thought # 129

With many it happens as with a dead star, all the lost loves and the unnoticed griefs crowd within their hearts until the weight becomes unbearable. Looking in the mirror, they wonder how it came to this, and no longer recognize themselves. To go on, they have to lock themselves away, turn away from who they are. Time passes, life moves on, from this abyss they no longer know how to pull themselves out from. The real struggle is not to lose what’s best in us.

Wandering Thought # 128

The world we are creating is one in which man will love his slavery and submit to it with passion.

في العالم الذي نخلقه سيحب الإنسان عبوديته ويخضع لها بفرح.

Sorcery is not opposed to science, it is the first step towards it.

الشعوذة ليست نقيض العلم، هي الخطوة الأولى نحوه.

Wandering Thought # 127

The veil, which is a manner of concealment, is also a manner of expression. That which is concealed expresses itself by insinuations, lighting in the onlooker the fire of discovery, of promise. Not only is clothing itself a manner of veiling, but even the naked body is itself a veil. It is the clothes by which the spirit veils itself. Nakedness, too, is a manner of veiling.

الحجاب، الذي به يُحجب النظر، هو أيضا طريقة للتعبير. الذي هو محجوب يعبر عن نفسه بتلميحات، مضيئاً في المشاهد شعلة الاستكشاف، ورغبة ملؤها الموعود. الثياب ليست هي فقط طريقة للحجب، بل إن الجسد العاري نفسه هو حجاب، هو “الثياب” التي بها تغلف الروح نفسها. العري، أيضا، هو وسيلة للحجب. ولذا، متى امزج جسدان، امتزجت روحهما أيضا، واضحيا، للحظة، روحين في جسد، جسدين يميطان اللثام عن وجهيهما لتقبل الروح نفسها وتنسكب، كالنور، كالشعر، كالصلاة.

Wandering Thought # 126

In this life we exchange one chain for another, and cannot live without chains. Freedom is to choose what binds us and compels our soul, what gives our life root and direction. Not all chains are the same. Some degrade us, and others lift us to the sublime.

‏في هذه الحياة نحن نستبدل قيد بآخر، فلا قدرة لنا على العيش بدون قيود. الحرية هي في اختيار ما يربط ويُخضع نفوسنا، ما يعطي لحياتنا جذوراً واتجاهاً. ليست كل القيود مثل بعضها. بعض القيود تحقرنا، وأخرى ترفعنا إلى الإله.

Wandering Thought # 125

He who cannot control his emotions will be controlled by them.

Your sense of worth rises from within, and nothing in the outside world can compensate for it.

Many years later you realize that writing poetry has also been a way of writing your own life. So one bright morning you stand and look, amazed, at the poem of your life.

As it turns out, silence is the hardest discipline, the hardest thing to maintain.

Wandering Thought # 124

Everything built on a lie will become too heavy to support itself and will ultimately crumble out of its own weight.

No two people ever love each other equally. The one who is less in love is always the more rational one.

Our styles of attachment as adults are modeled after our relationship with our parents.

Few are the people who become even more beautiful after you meet them.

Hope is the biggest deceiver of mankind, but without it our lives would not be worth living; we would practically take no action, embark on no journey, and take no risk. May our hopes grow ever greater and greater, and with them our disappointments. May our hopes coincide with what is best and most lofty in us.

Wandering Thought # 123

Writing, when true and honest, is a path that leads us deeper and deeper into the forest of silence. In the end we become listening itself, vibration, tune, melody, the inner sound of the world and all its objects; we become, if it is possible, pure openness. We also become extremely solitary, as the distance around us grows and grows. It cannot be said that we lost ourselves, but that we traded one path for another. Of course, this choice cannot be recognized by the majority who are only familiar with noise and oblivious of their own soul.

Wandering Thought # 122

“All conditioning aims at that: making people like their unescapable social destiny.”

Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

I believe that the only way is to play the game while acknowledging it for what it is, that way one can maintain a certain level of freedom and independence, even if only in spirit and not always in external engagements. We do not have to act and think exactly as the world expects of us, but neither will the world turn into what we wish and desire. There is a middle path to be followed, though most, out of spiritual lethargy and need of comfort, will remain oblivious to this, and will take their social conditioning for the ultimate reality.

Wandering Thought # 120

When was the last time you felt your body as Eros incarnate, as though the fires of creation itself were leaping out of it and could not be contained? When did you last feel your existence entire as a divine fragment, filled with longing for something infinite, overflowing with an incomprehensible madness and an exquisite harmony? When was it you last felt all the stars in the universe pulsing in your single beat of heart, pulsing and pulsing with an irremediable fire that wants to create over and over the entire universe in the image of your love? A thousand lightning churning together through your body, yet deeply imbued with the stillness of dawn?—Ah listen, just wait and listen, the whole of life is within you, it was for you that the universe was created, it was to embrace you that love was born. It is time to open you heart and feel, and let go of the constraints of your mind. Feel, even if it tears you apart; feel this boundless joy that has been your fate since the beginning of time.

Wandering Thought # 116

Loving each other meant transforming into the best versions of ourselves we could ever be; it meant finding, through each other, the secret source of joy in our own hearts; it meant opening up and flowing, but also being contained and cradled; it meant traveling away and going, but always connected by a hidden thread, and always under a watchful and caring eye. Love is being in becoming, always from the central place in our own hearts.