The necessary show

 

There are times in life that make you cry like a little baby. And there are times that babies make you cry. Which translates to…getting really emotional while everybody else is clapping their hands at a kids’ Xmas theatre play.

I am not sure how lucky kids are for not knowing that life is hard. The sooner they know, the better or maybe not?

But the problem isn’t how innocent they are. The problem is how sensitive we, the adults, still are. We are grown ups and yet we cry. We get hurt and we don’t like it when we make mistakes. Because we pay for our mistakes.

But mistakes are an opportunity.

What?

They are more than an opportunity. They are a blessing.

Think about all the things you messed up. What happened afterwards? Did you learn from them? Did you stand up? Do you have advice to give to other people because of those things that made you feel lousy?

(do I hear a “yes”?)

Perhaps you know someone who pretends to be perfect. Who puts on a show. Who’s out there acting, performing, making believe that all is well. You know what? I think that putting on an act can be “socially” good for you. It’s good for the people around you. People don’t like sullen faces. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that this is how you cope with problems. However, the more you desperately show what’s inside your heart, the less likely for you to feel better. On the other hand, you can’t keep it inside. You just don’t show it too much and recklessly around. You choose one or two people to talk about it, you vent, you find the remedies but when you get out of the house, you smile. Smile. No dark face. Someone says hallo, good morning and you are inside your mind, giving fists to your obsessive thoughts. That’s what I don’t like. That’s what I mean about that “healthy show”. A fake smile? No. It’s an attempt to smile. Try it. After a few attempts, it might come naturally.

Putting on an act doesn’t always mean being a hypocrite. It can also mean that you are a fighter and that don’t want people to always sympathise with you and say “poor guy” or “poor woman”. Not good for your image. And I also mean this for the image we have on social media as well.

Guess what. The stage is all yours. I will clap my hands.

But if you have been naughty, your show is useless and pointless. You will be uncovered. By who?

By the kids. The innocent hearts. The Xmas angels on stage.

They know it all.

Merry Xmas everyone!

(and please never take my posts too seriously)

M.

 

image from: thepoetsgarret.com

The senses

The Senses

Life is a phenomenon of the senses.

Difficult to call it something else | When Summers are colder than Winters.

Inside a box | In a memory of a moment | You fold your hopes.

As if trapped in a wagon of a train that stops everywhere | And picks no one.

Unstoppable. Pessoanian. Real.

Speed is useless. It destroys everything | There’s no place you can get to fast |

The senses always know better | And they always have it their way.

 

Note: I couldn’t help but use the word “Pessoanian” in this poem and this is due to a recent post I wrote for Alberoni Translations blog on the occasion of 79 years since Pessoa’s death. Check it out here.

Image from here

Theodora project. At the gardens

As she was approaching the gardens, she noticed that the roses looked neglected and sad. No place to hide in the palace. Even sadness was conveyed in all ways possible. Flowers suffered too. The gardener had been sick.

Helena had no intention to continue this path. She knew that Petros would never return from Venice. As she was struggling in the meander of her thoughts, she picked some of the exotic flowers recently planted by Perusian and headed to Theodora’s Champers. The Empress had been acting peculiarly. For the first time, Helena knew nothing.