Light

La luz brota de la oscuridad como de la luz brota la oscuridad. Se aman, ninguna tiene sentido sin la otra. Nada es puro.

Light springs out from darkness just like darkness springs out from light. They love each other, none of them finds meaning without the other. Nothing is pure.

"There are only bad cultivators"

"I'm so human" - what do I mean with this? I have always brandished this big word like a sword: human, using such a broad term (because we humans are so many things at the same time, there is a lot of space inside that word for many others) to define myself. So what do I mean? Because I don't use the word with all the meanings, with all its size. It is a synecdoche. Contradictive I am. A seeker, I am. And I try and fail with all my heart. Oh, sometimes I win, too. It would be unfair not to admit it (even if now this all doesn't sound as tragic and epic as I have always liked my texts to be. But I think it is the time to laugh about myself a bit).

Through these lenses, we humans are much of a Don Quijote. "Errar" is a Spanish word with at least two meanings: we wander (because we seek) and we make mistakes on the way. It sounds impossible not to wander and seek without making mistakes. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained". Some of us sometimes choose to stay at home, under the shelter. When we do that, nothing is there to be said about us. We are neither criticised nor praised. We fall back, withdrawn, maybe, by our own fears. And fear is the biggest and the most stupid hindrance for humankind.

This is why I've chosen to make mistakes. Cicero used to say (sorry, I don't know the exact English translation): "It is human to make mistakes, but only the stupid persist in that mistake". I object! Through our lifes and through spiritual subjects we will trip over the same stone over and over again. And it is not stupid, it is human. Which, okay, doesn't mean it is good. It is up to us to analyse what we really want in life and what is happening inside us for the sake of our happiness. So I am not that fatalist in the end, hm? Well, it is not easy. In fact, it is damn hard.

"I'm so human". Oh yes. I have always used this statement to express my view about good and bad. A bit like a justification. Pardon, I am just trying. Sorry, I did what I thought would be best. That we, for example, hurt others in the way is inevitable. It is a tricky statement, because if we can avoid to hurt them, we definitely should. But what if we choose to walk the road with the wrong shoes? Even if it is our mistake, it is up to us to take them off, because the pain they are causing us and the wear we are causing them is of no use to anyone.

Still, all this is not really helping me to answer the question whether we are good or evil by nature.

Through the history of mankind, many authors, philosophers and (mainly) men of religion have been wielding very categorical opinions about this matter of morality. If are we good or evil, bah. Why is it so important? And for what? If we are good, salvation is near, is inherent in us. If we are evil, a terrible hell is stalking us (we are depraved -Calvinism).

But I love the solution that Victor Hugo proposes in Les Misérables. I still haven't finished this masterpiece, but definitely the big question behind it is, whether we are good or evil and about mankind's real condition. He ilustrates it with extreme examples. You can see the epic of Jean Valjean's figure, a man torn by hatred towards society because of an unfair punishment he has suffered for 19 years, turning into the most righteous, generous man. It is not the (almost) unreal example what I like, but the message on the book, clearly reflected on the following quote (it was hard, but I found it!) This man, Jean Valjean, is now father Madeleine:

One day he saw some country people busily engaged in pulling up nettles;
he examined the plants, which were uprooted and already dried, and said:
"They are dead. Nevertheless, it would be a good thing to know how to
make use of them. When the nettle is young, the leaf makes an excellent
vegetable; when it is older, it has filaments and fibres like hemp and
flax. Nettle cloth is as good as linen cloth. Chopped up, nettles are
good for poultry; pounded, they are good for horned cattle. The seed of
the nettle, mixed with fodder, gives gloss to the hair of animals; the
root, mixed with salt, produces a beautiful yellow coloring-matter.
Moreover, it is an excellent hay, which can be cut twice. And what is
required for the nettle? A little soil, no care, no culture. Only the
seed falls as it is ripe, and it is difficult to collect it. That
is all. With the exercise of a little care, the nettle could be made
useful; it is neglected and it becomes hurtful. It is exterminated. How
many men resemble the nettle!" He added, after a pause: "Remember this,
my friends: there are no such things as bad plants or bad men. There are
only bad cultivators."

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/135/135.txt

So Spain won the championship, what a memorable night...

This song is so unbearably beautiful and sad and the world is turned upside down by the euphoric sounds of vuvuzela, the masses cry out loud and sing in holy union, while I am here voluntarily set apart. The black sky becomes suddely a scenery of bright explossions, coloured lights flying all around, while people hold their hands in celebration. But what is there to celebrate for me, inside my world? A plague of doubts took over my spirit, peace of mind would be all what i would ask for.

El eterno retorno

¿Quién me librará de tropezar una y otra vez en la misma piedra?

Y por otro lado, ¿es tan opuesta esta idea a aquella de lo eterno y lo inamovible? ¿Acaso no es el eterno retorno, al fin y al cabo, eterno? ¿No queda un poso, una esencia, dentro de la naturaleza cambiante de las ideas? ¿una estructura que obedece a un designio previamente escrito? Estamos obligados a cambiar, a fluctuar. ¿Pero a qué obecede este cambio?

Tomando un ejemplo tan poco espiritual como el del ADN, algo tan esencial y definidor del individuo, tan abarcador y determinante; se trata de un guión preestablecido, un programa humano que obligará al individuo a reaccionar ante las circunstancias externas de una forma determinada. Tomemos las diferentes respuestas de los eneatipos ante problemas idénticos: la pérdida o defecto del amor de una madre. Cómo cada "pattern", modelo, o guión adelanta una respuesta diferente, una salida hacia dentro, hacia afuera (...).

En definitiva, existe una esencia detrás del devenir. Un supra-modelo de existencia.

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The Eternal Return

Who shall save me from tripping over the same stone over and over again?

On the other hand, is this idea so opposed to that of the eternal and unchanging? Is not the eternal return, after all, eternal? Isn't there left a reservoir, an essence, within the changing nature of ideas? A structure that follows a previously written plan? We are bound to change, to fluctuate. But what does this change comply with?

Naming such an unspiritual example as DNA, something so essential and defining of the individual, so inclusive and decisive; this is a predetermined script, a human program that will even force the individual to react to external circumstances in a particular way. Take the different responses of the enneatypes to identical problems: the loss or defect of a mother's love. How each pattern or script dashes forward a different response, a way inward, outward (...).

In short, there is an essence behind the becoming: a supra-existence model.

Justific... Introducción

Veintitrés solía ser un número muy especial. Hace unos años, yo misma disfrutaba de aquel maravilloso álbum de Blonde Redhead, el 23, desde mi apartamento, el 23, en una pacífica callejuela de Charlottenburg, rompiéndome el coco a ratos con las estructuras hipotácticas del texto alemán al que me enfrentaba, y al mismo tiempo soñando con la caída de la tarde, hora en la que desenfundaría mi cámara dispuesta a seleccionar trocitos de la ciudad y mostrárselos al mundo.

Y aunque este número mágico tan solo sea un pretexto para comenzar a escribir después de algunos años, mis dedos oxidados lo hacen desde una ciudad de 23 distritos, a la que decidí escaparme a la oh dulce edad de 23 años.

Aquellos momentos fueron, sí, muy felices. Ahora la realidad es más gris, más cruda, menos mágica. Aún así no he acabado por rendirme a este desencanto e intento hacer algo significativo de mi vida. Ayer tuve un rayo de esperanza cuando, siendo las 10 de la noche y después de un día de trabajo agotador, me dispuse, entusiasta, a crear más material para mis clases. ¡Qué gran revolución! Al fin y al cabo, y con el tiempo, es bastante posible que esta mi nueva realidad pueda ser vista como algo grande e insólito. Todo depende de cómo quiera escribirla.

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Justific... Introduction


Twenty-three used to be a very special number. A few years ago, I used to enjoy this wonderful album of Blonde Redhead, 23, from my apartment, the 23 in a peaceful street in Charlottenburg, breaking my head at times with the hypotactic structures of the German text that I faced, while dreaming of the fall of the afternoon,when I would pull out my camera, ready to select pieces of the city and show them to the world.

And although this magic number is just an excuse to start writing after a few years, now my rusty fingers do it from a city of 23 districts, place where I decided to escape at the oh sweet age of 23.

Yeah, those were very happy moments in my life. Now reality is grayer, more raw, less magical.Still, I have not given up to this disappointment and try to do something meaningful in my life. Yesterday I had a glimmer of hope when, at 10 pm and after a day of backbreaking work, I prepared, enthusiastic, to create more material for my classes. What a revolution! After all, and eventually, it is quite possible that this new reality of mine can be seen as something big and unusual. It all depends on how I write it.