Journey To The Self – Viaje Hacia El Ser

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  • Sometimes…

    Me, on sunny day aboard GEM in Preveza Marina

    Sometimes, from the outside looking in, it may look like I am following my dream, doing what I “want”, travelling the world, never settling down… Adventure after adventure since I was born….

    Some people tell me I am brave for doing so, and it might look like I am flowing in an ever peaceful existence.

    The truth is, that isn’t so… I am not brave, I am certainly not always in peace, and I am not really following my “dream”, which (though it may surprise most of you) isn’t travelling and having adventures, but actually settling down near a fireplace and a wall full of books, reading, writing and studying looking out at a beautiful garden. That’s all I ever wanted.

    But, I am going where life takes me, where I am meant to be, even if that “place” isn’t what I truly want, or “think” and “feel” I want… If you knew me, if you deeply knew me like I know myself, you would know, that the only real adventure I ever wanted to have was to be free. Free in my mind and heart so I could hear my soul singing. Free from myself first of all. From the “me” I think I am, so I can become, and at last “see”, the “me” I truly am.

    On this journey to mySelf, I realise every bridge appears in the perfect moment, just when I was about to give up and jump… Every stone that males up the path appeared when I truly found a way to surrender to life, one step at a time. And that’s why I continue doing things, travelling, living a life that I never thought I would, that I never even dreamed of or thought possible, that I never thought I even wanted to, until the day the river takes me back Home to the great ocean of Being. 

  • The voice within…

    The voice within
    is still a voice nonetheless…

    A particle of light playing the game of Being.

    Reflection, in all senses,
    mirrors the path of the heart.

    It’s in becoming that we truly find
    what was never lost.

    An anchor that allows stillness
    in the depths,
    and flow
    in the surface.

    How many identities must be shed
    before we can hear the roaring waves?

    How many more,
    before we can rest in
    Silence?

  • Beyond

    Sailing our boat GEM in the Ambracian Gulf, Greece

    Below the surface,
    down below in the depths,
    beyond the crashing waves
    of superficiality,
    is where I can breathe.

    Above the surface,
    floating in the ripples
    of the burning light,
    too bright to see clearly,
    is where I drown.

    Beyond the surface,
    beyond the depths,
    where darkness shines its own light,
    where opposites unite,
    is where I Am.

  • I find myself here, again

    Me, sailing in the Ambracian Gulf, Greece

    I find myself here, again.

    In that space where
    nothing happens,
    and everything
    just is.

    Not the sun anymore,
    but the light reflected
    on the water’s surface.

    Not the sea anymore,
    but the rise and fall
    of every wave.

    Not the vessel
    that crosses thresholds,
    but the wind filling the sails.

    I find myself here, again,
    even if I know
    I will lose myself, again,
    just to find my way,
    once more,
    back Home.

  • Longing

    Roman Aqueduct of Nikopolis

    I’ve always wanted what I didn’t have. More information, more knowledge, more diplomas, more books, more experience… a future something I could only imagine. If I was cold, I wanted the heat. If I was moving, I wanted to settle. If I had a house, I wanted a boat. If I was at the beach, I wanted the mountains. If I was happy, I wanted suffering.

    I’ve also always wanted what had already gone. A moment lost in the past. An idea of the past that from the present view felt so comforting and idealised. A longing so deep for a time that was, before, long ago. But never truly was, because at that moment, I wasn’t even there. I was lost in another time, in another space, made of fragments of broken images of where I thought I was. Of who I thought I was.

    I couldn’t find a way to be present with what is without thinking about something to come, or something that was long gone. I’ve always had a sense of an unrealised longing waiting to burst forth just from my desire. And worse than that, I couldn’t accept that desire alone couldn’t instantly be fulfilled just by feeling it.

    This state of being was eating away my life by not living it. I could only think life, imagine life, live an unreal, unlived life through the making of my mind, which many times I confused with my heart. But the voice of the soul is a relentless whisper that flows in an unstoppable course until the ocean of Being. And so one day, the river became a torrent so strong it overflowed, destroying even my sense of “I”.

    It took me a very long time, more than a decade of conscious inner view to recognise this pattern of running away from myself, only to find my own reflection in everything I encountered. And it took me even longer, to recognise that my reflection wasn’t even mine at all, but the light of life itself shining forth through me, through everyone and everything that crossed my path. I was that reflection itself, nothing less, nothing more. An ordinary spark of light glistening through the waves of the great ocean of time.