Needless to peek over the edge and he jumped. Is not that. Just dig a little into ourselves, where one day we forgot that handful of illusions that would give meaning to our life. Now we dare not even look, but there are still. At one time, should be remembered, that we conjure to live passionately, to devote our efforts to ilusionantes companies and give the best of ourselves to the service of an ideal (to be paid), work far from sterile and pettiness that we shrink to make us lose perspective. In accordance, that long ago but, Do we have the courage to keep chasing those dreams?
To make that great journey must dare to cross to the other side, where we sense our happiness waiting crouched
We make it easy, course. The road is paved with excuses, each more sensible. The company itself, if not ourselves, takes us at all hours of arguments to dissuade. The machinery is well-oiled. That is, no mistake, travel travel between, the great journey of our life. No need luggage or passports, but we should go armed with tons of enthusiasm and determination needed to cover our ears to the siren inevitable.
To make that great journey must dare to cross to the other side, where we sense our happiness waiting crouched, without any certainty, no reward in sight, long by passing comments already chewed your failure, perhaps because his never quite digest. On this side are sheltered by convention, sure our insecurities, but surely the end of the. Why crossing?
Nobody will steal the silence that, finally, awaits anyone who dares to peek into her womb
Some days ago, at the foot of the massif Peñalara, commented Sebastián Álvaro the words of a friend who has spent years dedicated to caring for terminally ill. What most surprised, the Conto, was that none regretted anything he had done before. In that final trance, its only outstanding accounts were with themselves: lamented, above all else, anything that had not had the courage to do. The love that they let; anodyne work which languished for years without complaint; friends who neglected; I never made that trip; the "I love you" never uttered; illusions that left withering… Do not think there's anyone who sees life more clearly than a dying. Has it all behind and enjoy the best view possible. We should note.
While illusions blurred cluttering your dreams, common sense will deploy a battery of appropriate reasons to forget them
You accuse of crazy, Insurance. They will try to inject sanity through the eyes of the people you love, but no one will steal the silence that, finally, awaits anyone who dares to peek into her womb, to extend the hand to palpate looking cast aside those old desires, dusty. When you add in that silence you, the only question will hear: "Why not?”. And, while the illusions blurred cluttering your dreams, common sense (that against which Unamuno opposed "the proper sense") deploy a battery of appropriate reasons to forget about them and do not complicate your life. About that "why not?"Fall like a heavy slab" why?”, the same question that has brought you to the peaceful monotony of the cove where the waves break rather than propel offshore, as craved.
A handful of madmen that should not underestimate: a man at peace with himself can reach the end of the world if he tries
Faced with this dilemma, most throws in the towel, reintegrating with indifference to the gentleness of the Herd. It costs a lot to think for oneself and, often, is very expensive. Only a few go ahead, with the peace of mind to have made peace with their forgotten dreams. A handful of madmen that should not underestimate (although they will): a man at peace with himself can reach the end of the world if he tries. The memory of someone, with all in favor to continue accommodated in the placid routine, had the courage to slam on the brakes for no more than delude, is evergreen. "How beautiful are the feet of the messenger who announces peace!”, glossed Isaiah. As beautiful as the open arms of us who were welcoming home to that other than, for a while and mistakenly, believed to be.
Alargad right hand. You can still play your dreams with the fingertips. They have not moved from there
My first post of the year VAP, that dream is slowly coming true (doses sometimes imperceptible even as we realize) is a tribute to all those who, one fine day, decided to face this great trip (not necessarily physical or overflowing kilometers and maps). People like Javier, Daniel, Sebas, Eduardo, Juanra, Enrique, Gerardo, Miquel, Mayte and many others. And, especially, an invitation to the doubters. Alargad right hand. You can still play your dreams with the fingertips. They have not moved from there, though now watch scary.
The large Ionesco wrote a while, with his usual laconic, that history fits into a cigarette paper: "They were born, suffered and died ". Up to us so we can add also "lived". The Grand Tour hopes.
