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La libertà – Gustave Thibon

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“L’uomo non è libero nella misura in cui non dipende da nulla o da nessuno: è libero nell’esatta misura in cui dipende da ciò che ama, ed è prigioniero nell’esatta misura in cui dipende da ciò che non può amare.

Così il problema della libertà non si pone in termini di indipendenza, ma in termini di amore. La potenza del nostro attaccamento determina la nostra capacità di libertà. Per terribile che sia il suo destino, colui che può amare tutto è sempre perfettamente libero, ed è in questo senso che si è parlato della libertà dei santi. All’estremo opposto, coloro che non amano nulla, hanno un bello spezzare catene e fare rivoluzioni: rimangono sempre prigionieri. Tutt’al più arrivano a cambiare schiavitù, come un malato incurabile che si rigira nel suo letto.”

“Human beings are not free in the measure in which they depend on nothing or no one: they are free in the exact measure in which they depend on what they love, and they are captive in the exact measure in which they depend on what they cannot love.

Therefore, the problem of freedom cannot be tackled in terms of independence but in terms of love. The power of our attachment determines our ability to be free. As terrible as their destiny might be, those who can love everything are perfectly free and that’s how we can talk of the freedom of the saints. On the other hand, those who love nothing, have a good amount of chains to break free from and revolutions to make: they will always remain captive. All they can do is perhaps change their bondage, like a sick person, who can turn over again and again in their bed.”

(translated from the Italian by Small Circle Big Circle)

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Unselfish work

Unselfish work leads to silence, for when you work selflessly, you don’t need to ask for help. Indifferent to results, you are willing to work with the most inadequate means. You do not care to be much gifted and well equipped. Nor do you ask for recognition and assistance. You just do what needs to be done, leaving success and failure to the unknown. For everything is caused by innumerable factors, of which your personal endeavor is but one. Yet such is the magic of man’s mind and heart that the most improbable happens when human will and love pull together.

– I Am That By Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

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be alone by Charles Bukowski

when you think about how often
it all goes wrong
again and again
you begin to look at the walls
and yearn to stay inside
because the streets are the
same old movie
and the heroes all end up like
old movie heroes:
fat ass, fat face and the brain
of a lizard.

it’s no wonder that
a wise man will
climb a 10,000 foot mountain
and sit there waiting
living off of berry bush leaves
rather than bet it all on two dimpled knees
that surely won’t last a lifetime
and 2 times out of 3
won’t remain even for one long night.

mountains are hard to climb.
thus the walls are your friends.
learn your walls.

what they have given us out there
in the streets
is something that even children
get tired of.

stay within your walls.
they are the truest love.

build where few others build.
it’s the last way left.

– Charles Bukowski

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Prayer of Thanks for Old Girlfriends, or Boyfriends, as the Case May Be – Brian Doyle

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No, we don’t think about them much if at all anymore, and yes, it all worked out right that we are not together, and no, it would not have been a good idea at all to continue on in what became a murky emotional wilderness, but yes, we should be grateful that they came into our lives, or that we blundered into theirs; for in many ways they are how we came to be who we are, isn’t that so? And didn’t we learn how to love better by loving generally poorly and awkwardly in the opening chapters, before moving up to the current big leagues?… So thank You for the pain and confusion and thrill of first and second and third loves; thank You for letting us muddle along learning to be painfully honest and not try to be cool and not hold on desperately to that which is rightfully leaving the scene; thank YOU for the bruise of education, and the joy of the much deeper confusion of marriage. Deft work there, Friend. And so, amen.

– Brian Doyle

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A prayer – St. Ignatius of Loyola

Take Lord and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding and my will, all that I have and possess. Everything I have is yours, for you have given it all to me; to you I return it. Take me, Lord, and do what you like with me, only give me your grace and your love, for that is enough for me. Amen.

– Saint Ignatius of Loyola

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Peace prayer – Saint Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

Acrylic painting by Carolina Perrone

Signore, fa di me
uno strumento della Tua Pace:
Dove è odio, fa ch’io porti l’Amore,
Dove è offesa, ch’io porti il Perdono,
Dove è discordia, ch’io porti l’Unione,
Dove è dubbio, ch’io porti la Fede,
Dove è errore, ch’io porti la Verità,
Dove è disperazione, ch’io porti la Speranza,
Dove è tristezza, ch’io porti la Gioia,
Dove sono le tenebre, ch’io porti la Luce.
Maestro, fa che io non cerchi tanto
Ad esser consolato, quanto a consolare;
Ad essere compreso, quanto a comprendere;
Ad essere amato, quanto ad amare.
Poiché, così è:
Dando, che si riceve;
Perdonando, che si è perdonati;
Morendo, che si risuscita a Vita Eterna

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The patience of ordinary things by Pat Schneider

silver shoes
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It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?

~ Pat Schneider