Through the looking glass

Dear Journal,

I am delighted to set off on this new adventure with you. For a while now I have felt the need to express myself, to let out all these thoughts and reflections that colour my daily life. I have these voices in my head and this path in my heart, which lead me through the meanders of my thoughts. I sometimes feel like an old sage of ancient Greece who spends hours walking in nature and turning inward to find answers.

Answers to what? Phew, to everything that helps me understand this world better. Life, death, the universe, the multiverse, God, the gods, illness, healing, physics, energy work, our History, stories… A vast programme of reflection that I share with only a few kindred souls. Today, I want to set these words down and share them, because I know I am not the only one asking questions… and writing does me good.

Honestly, it is not easy every day to live in a world disconnected from its essence, among humans stripped of their humanity. I sometimes miss childhood. As if the rules of this game were illogical and the victory dangled before us were in fact to end up in the front row of a plane heading straight for a crash… I feel the trough of the wave is quite close; things may get shaken up.

My point of light is that every day I see a fragment of beauty in this world. I confess that some days it is easier than others. In fact, I feel that beauty is accessible to anyone willing to welcome it. And humankind was born to create beauty, I am convinced of it. Well, it is also gifted at destruction, and that is easy to see. I think what this world lacks is a different collective consciousness, the creation of new rules in this game, a divergent symphony.

Nietzsche said: “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” Unable to understand one another and accept difference, humankind has divided itself. Yet the stage on which we move is really cool; I deeply love the Earth. We just have not understood how to win, nor the true meaning of victory. And so we wreck everything. In the end, no one is to blame: this suffering system was not built in a single generation.

My dear journal, my dear friend, welcome to the wanderings of my psyche. A pretty disorder tinged with shadows and light (in the end quite similar to the outside world…), a mixture of hope and torment from a child’s soul.

✦