changes and transformations
"Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate."
--Carl Jung
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
--Romans 12:2
Whether we like to or not
we only have three alternatives:
yesterday, the present and tomorrow.
--Nicanor Parra
The other one, Borges, is the one to whom things happen.
--"Borges and I", Jorge Luis Borges
my path was bound by mirros; the spell of the mirros blinding me; selfish my steps, selfish my passions, selfish my motives ... my eyes fixed on this or that shadow; insensitive to the screams of the pain of others, I let myself be guided by the old scars--blind me, blinded by the shadow of this or that memory ... a prisoner in the darker recesses of my imagination, I didn't see the gifts laid before me ... while feeding fallacious resentments, I allowed anger to nurture my darker passions.
Yet I don't know at what moment I felt your pain, your intent, your love, I understood it -- and this road ceased to make sense... having understood my pain, having seen my self reflected in your self, I was left aimless ... the mask broken, the heart heavy with this new perspective of love, passion, pain and of others ... if something brought me to this point, if I needed to walk down this path, then this new understanding is the reward, painful as it may be.
The pain of loss, I'm sure, foretells a new beginning ... armed with a new understanding, no mirrors bounding the way ...
--Carl Jung
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
--Romans 12:2
Whether we like to or not
we only have three alternatives:
yesterday, the present and tomorrow.
--Nicanor Parra
The other one, Borges, is the one to whom things happen.
--"Borges and I", Jorge Luis Borges
my path was bound by mirros; the spell of the mirros blinding me; selfish my steps, selfish my passions, selfish my motives ... my eyes fixed on this or that shadow; insensitive to the screams of the pain of others, I let myself be guided by the old scars--blind me, blinded by the shadow of this or that memory ... a prisoner in the darker recesses of my imagination, I didn't see the gifts laid before me ... while feeding fallacious resentments, I allowed anger to nurture my darker passions.
Yet I don't know at what moment I felt your pain, your intent, your love, I understood it -- and this road ceased to make sense... having understood my pain, having seen my self reflected in your self, I was left aimless ... the mask broken, the heart heavy with this new perspective of love, passion, pain and of others ... if something brought me to this point, if I needed to walk down this path, then this new understanding is the reward, painful as it may be.
The pain of loss, I'm sure, foretells a new beginning ... armed with a new understanding, no mirrors bounding the way ...