The rocks were warm. Sunned for hours, they soaked up the heat and stored it within their glowing hearts. It radiated softly through their porous skin. “It feels so pleasant”, I thought, as I run up, jumping from rock to rock, from shelf to shelf, hardly touching the surface in my light slippers. “Like an elf”, I thought. It felt so pleasant to climb lightly and recklessly, higher and higher, up and onward and away from the road, away from the valley, away from the cabins and the coking fires.
What looked like a wall broken into shelves, formed into steps by fallen boulders, climbing steadily upwards, turned out to be an entire world, a landscape of deep valleys and sharp peaks, of smooth-floored meadows overgrown by silvery grass, and forests of brush with their sharp, pointy branches and small shiny leaves. There were rocks as large as a head of a giant lying where they feel, with deep crevices left where they split on impact.
It was quiet there, alien, the human world was only a story and I felt uneasy. I begun to walk slowly, climb cautiously, choosing the gentlest slopes and surest assents. No more running and jumping recklessly. I did not belong there. One false step, and the mountain would shake me off with hardly a flicker of it’s rocky fingers.
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The cedar grove is very quiet. Not silent – there are birds singing their songs, there is wind playing in the branches, little furry creatures scurrying through dry pine needles and pieces of bark, but all those sounds do not disturb the quiet stillness. Old trees, trees that stood there for hundreds of years, with their massive trunks scarred by burns and cuts – they are quiet, they communicate, they relate in the quiet, still space. They hold it and create it. This is how they are.
And when you sit under those trees the quiet sips into you and enfolds you, and you become part of it. You become the holder of the quiet space, though not a silent space. There are sounds, but there is no noise anymore, not inside. Trees speak to you, and you become like trees. Quiet.
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A funny thing has been happening to me. It’s a series of little realizations, coming one after another, each one of them incredibly unlike me. Every next one is more incredibly unlike me than the last.
What IS like me is to be withdrawn, separated, aloof, fiercely independent and always distant. It is like me to not need people, to not need relationships, closeness, to be alone, to want to be alone.
But a while ago, few months ago, I realized that I am afraid of people. I realized that I am scared of being present in relationship with another person. This was different from what I believed before, when I thought that I simply don’t need to be in relationship. I realized that I might not need to be in relationship, but I am also afraid to, and so I decided to deal with this fear.
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100. There is no such thing as “impossible”
99. We are present to the fact that the life is our life, that the reality is our reality to do with as we please, because we are really present to ourselves, as ourselves.
98. Whatever trauma, fear, pain is there to stop us from being fully who we are – we don’t let it.
97. Enlightenment is not the end of the journey, rather it’s the very first step.
96. We have ideas, ideas don’t have us. We create explanations and reasons, they do not create us. We are the storytellers who spin the stories.
95. We enjoy the company of people with whom we have nothing in common.
[click to continue…]
The cedar grove is very quiet. Not silent – there are birds singing their songs, there is wind playing in the branches, little furry creatures scurrying through dry pine needles and pieces of bark, but all those sounds do not disturb the quiet stillness. Old trees, trees that stood there for hundreds of years, with their massive trunks scarred by burns and cuts – they are quiet, they communicate, they relate in the quiet, still space. They hold it and create it. This is how they are.
And when you sit under those trees the quiet sips into you and enfolds you, and you become part of it. You become the holder of the quiet space, though not a silent space. There are sounds, but there is no noise anymore, not inside. Trees speak to you, and you become like trees. Quiet. [click to continue…] 
