Thank you 2025 – Welcome 2026

 

To fully acknowledge the width, depth and breadth of 2025, I have to go back to 2024, which was, for me, the most painful year I can recall, though at this very moment even this seems like a faraway passage that has entirely dissolved its rugged edges and is now simply part of everything that is and ever was.

The dissolution I went through during the entire span of 2024, left nothing untouched. Emotionally, mentally, physically and spiritually I was stripped bare, breath by blessed breath, until I was quite literally vacant. No prior construction withstood the earthquake of transfiguration. If my landscape were to be envisioned as a city, it would look like an apocalyptic scene from one of those films about the future world in 2224.

And yet… Yet this was not something terrible that I was a victim of. Not something to be saved from. Not something that I inflicted upon myself either. It just was what needed to be at this point of my existence.

So, when 2025 dawned, I was still under the rubbles of this massive implosion. Finding my way out into daylight so I could catch my breath and stand upright again.

I will not go into details about what went on, as this is shared in my new book: Soul Songs 2 – A Sigh of Wholeness which will be out in the first half of 2026.

What I do want to share right now though, is how entirely, surprisingly magnificent 2025 has been. How special it has been to day by day discover this new lifestream that I am now embodying, completely at peace with what was, is and is to be. Not as an opposite of what 2024 felt like, but as its own emergence that needs no contrast to be compared to.

I cannot, in fact, compare what I discover myself to be on a daily basis, with anything prior.

My tastes, motivations, inclinations, perceptions, choices… everything is different for me now. Not better. Not worse. Simply not comparable. The baseline is extinct. The new template has no prior blueprint.

In practical terms, this has changed the way I interact with my environment and the people in it. And so, too, where I feel at home geographically has needed to change, in order to meet my current frequency. This is why I have relocated to the Azores, choosing Faial island as the pivotal base of my hearth for it is the most purely symbiotic match for my entirety now – though the 9 islands of this exquisite archipelago are all one for me, and equally my home.

This love affair with the islands and most specifically with Faial has been a sweet discovery of what Home really feels like when we find the perfect merge with land, wind, ocean and fire and all of its living creatures. Something I had not experienced before to this extent. But then again, I am discovering everything anew so this too is an integral part of this ongoing discovery.

I have let go of so much during 2025, as I had also during 2024. People. Things. Creations. Projects. Places. Endings upon endings upon endings. Which intrinsically means beginnings upon beginnings upon beginnings. 

The grief of loss that was to be felt, ended with 2024 and into the first rays of 2025. This year’s letting go has been of a joyfully liberating nature. A celebration of honouring, releasing, stepping forward unburdened. Cloaked in the abundance of what has died and composted into new fertile ground, for new seeds to sprout under a new sun, watered with new expressions of unfolding possibilities.

This is how I step into 2026. Infinitely grateful. To all. To everything. Everywhere. My heart openly shining with a love so big it cannot be contained and singing a song of peaceful harmony where dark and light are not separate.

I have no idea what I will create throughout the year, other than the certainty of humanness expressed in contented trust that all is well in all of creation when the grace of Presence is allowed to radiate through every physical and non-physical pore.

In this new year, in this new life, there are no aims to achieve. Nothing to strive for. No purpose to fulfil. No mission to pursue. No specific passion other than that of life itself, with each day’s gifts to explore.

Whether you and I physically cross paths or not, we will certainly dance – in any one of the many dimensions we multiply through. So cheers to us, to existence, to infinite possibilities and to life here on Earth, particularly, as this is our chosen playground… for now. And thank you /\ So very much.

 

 

 

 

What matters today? - Happy New Year musings

 

What matters today?

 

Today, as I was leaning back, savouring my tea, I was observing how interesting it is that so many human beings I am aware of, live their lives as if tomorrow is what matters.

Let me explain.

The world over, and as a general concept – as there are many exceptions, or in other words, exceptions that I see as many because this exception is how I live and therefore my common reflection – so, the world over, life is generally lived as a pursuit. This pursuit is sometimes called a fight, sometimes called a ladder or a mountain to climb, sometimes called a search or an aim to achieve. It is a constant striving. An idea that somehow there is somewhere to get to, to arrive at.

Thus, today is just a building block for tomorrow. A passage. Something that needs to be done in order to reach something else.

Which leads me to mention dreams. That thing about “may all your dreams come true”. What is this?

Again. Let me explain.

My point of view about dreams is simple: once one has a strong feeling about creating something in their lives, for whatever purpose it may be, and follows that feeling and its indications 100%, the dream is already a reality, every step of the way of its unfolding. It really doesn’t matter what the outcome is. Because the outcome rarely is what we imagined. So, the dream doesn’t necessarily come true, if this means that it fits what was initially imagined. There are so many different openings that present themselves along the way, if we are allowing ourselves to flow with the synchronicities that come forth moment to moment, that what does or does not occur depends largely on the circumstances in each new now step and not on a supposed potential outcome.

It’s all good and well to have vision. To have creative passion. What it becomes – that is free. If we are willing to be bold enough to not want to control its trajectory and humble enough to accept that what is happening is always aligned with whatever we are vibrating into existence. Our frequency determines everything that emanates forth into our world.

So, let’s get back to the initial puzzling concept of living life as a pursuit. What happens to today then?

In all honesty, there is nothing else to live. Today is all there is. Now. Available. And this is what provides every tomorrow. If there is a tomorrow.

What I mean is: none of us know when we will die. And some are actually experiencing terminal diseases. Still, it is unknown how long they will live. And once we die – irrespective of the intrinsic knowingness that existence is endless and therefore death does not really exist for us as beings, only as physical humans – once we die, whatever we were living today is what will have mattered. The future will have in that moment been entirely erased for the deceased.

So what really matters today?

Even if you are going through the shittiest experience – what matters about it, what is there here for you to retain, choose, discard, change, embrace…?

What would you like to enjoy today: busyness, quietness, joy, harmony, excitement, serenity, passion, rush, anxiety, depression, rewinding, relaxing… Whatever it is that brings peace, love and joy to your heart.

In my own experience I have found that even when I am going through a rough patch, even in the simplest terms – could be a very turbulent flight or boat ride for instance – if I land fully in it, with no expectation of what comes next and no need to get out of it, just being present to this that I am in now, everything settles down. It’s like becoming the eye of a storm. Correction: it is literally becoming the eye of the storm. Notice that the eye does not try to cross the storm. It stays. The storm just is. Until it isn’t. And then the eye is no longer within the storm. It is all there is. All there was. All there will be when another storm forms around it.

I often remember: in what way can I honour the ones who have departed and can no longer have the privilege of experiencing life? And in what way can I also honour the ones that are ill or vacant to a point that they cannot be in life, at all?

Side note, just to say that each experience is an experience in itself, which means that being incapable of participating in life is an equally valid experience for whatever purpose best serves the one having it.

Then again, if I have the chance to live the most fulfilling life I can create for me, here, now, today, in the simplest ways, in the most seemingly “insignificant” gestures and moments that radiate so much joy, so much love, so much peaceful contentedness, gratitude and grace, why would I not be this fully? Why would I be focusing on what seems to be wrong with the world, with the people, with politics, with whatever rather than live what I know to be possible, when my heart is not tainted with fear, fight and rage?

Why would I be giving my attention, which means my creative energy, to judgement about wrong or right, instead of just living what brings balance to my system? Which in turn creates balance at a much larger scale… But without even having to focus on the effect this has – why would I forego this gift that is entirely mine to choose, to live, to receive and to offer, now, today, for the sake of a tomorrow I don’t know whether I will get to experience?

Why would I wait for the new year to make resolutions that I know are productive and would like to bring forth right away, otherwise I would not even envision them as possibilities?

Yes, there are some long-term decisions we all have to make. And once we have made them, again, what remains is still only today. Whether we for instance get to master the cello during the next year, or travel to the Fidji Islands, or create a cure for cancer – or whether we don’t, we will only ever have lived each today as it presents itself. Not one moment earlier. Not one moment later.

Say it, do it, live it, enjoy it. In honour and gratitude. Today.

This is my heartfelt new year celebration with ya’all.

 

Parabéns Diva! - 25 anos de mãe e filha

Hoje a Diva está de parabéns. Vinte e cinco anos se completam na sua jovem senda.

E apraz-me partilhar o quão grata e feliz estou por ser mãe sem ter que o ser.

Quando aos meus 12 anos decidi colar na parede do meu quarto o belíssimo poema de Khalil Gibran - do seu livro O Profeta:

“Teus filhos não são teus filhos
São os filhos e as filhas da ânsia da vida por si mesma.
Vêm através de ti, mas não de ti.
E embora vivam contigo, não te pertencem.

Podes outorgar-lhes o teu amor, mas não os teus pensamentos,
Porque eles têm seus próprios pensamentos.
Podes abrigar os seus corpos, mas não as suas almas;
Pois as suas almas moram na mansão do amanhã, que não podes visitar nem mesmo em sonho.
Podes esforçar-te por ser como eles, mas não procures fazê-los como tu.
Porque a vida não anda para trás e não se demora com os dias passados.

Tu és os arco do qual os teus filhos são arremessados como flechas vivas.
O Arquiteto mira o alvo na senda do infinito e estica-te com toda a Sua força para que as Suas flechas se projetem, rápidas e para longe.
Que o teu encurvamento na mão do Arqueiro seja a tua alegria:
Pois assim como Ele ama a flecha que voa, ama também o arco que permanece estável.”

Fi-lo num grito de revolta, na certeza de não pertencer a - nem de poder ser como ninguém. Pois sabia que por mais que sentisse falta de ser amada, encontraria aquilo que me faltava por mim mesma e não poderia seguir os passos até então trilhados por outros. Tinha que ser eu própria a descobrir. Sabia-me filha da ânsia que a vida tem por si mesma. 

Mais tarde, quando chegou o meu momento de ser mãe, este poema passou a ter ainda mais significado.

Nunca tive vontade de formatar os meus filhos, nem que fossem qualquer coisa que eu tivesse sonhado para eles. E nunca senti tristeza ao vê-los voar com as suas próprias asas e partir em descoberta das suas próprias criações.

Também nunca senti que os meus filhos fossem um fardo ou uma dificuldade.

Sempre os vi e amei como uma dádiva que não se prende, mas que se acompanha e admira, dando-lhes o apoio e a educação que a cada curva senti ser necessária, sem seguir bulas pré-definidas. Sempre sabendo que educar é um risco, tal como viver. E no entanto é para isso que cá estamos.

Houve muitos momentos, especialmente nos primeiros anos de maternidade, em que não fazia ideia como fazer. Muitas lágrimas chorei, perdida e insegura, a apalpar terreno sem saber se era o passo certo ou a melhor decisão. 

Hoje, olho para trás e sinto-me feliz. Realizada e íntegra. 

Soube pedir desculpa quando cometi erros, e soube também perdoar-me por não saber fazer melhor nesses momentos.

Soube pedir ajuda quando não podia mais com o peso das responsabilidades e aceitar que ás vezes não temos força suficiente, ás vezes caímos, somos vulneráveis - que o mito da mãe heroína não passa disso: um mito. Somos humanas. Temos dúvidas, medos, inseguranças e incertezas, mas também temos um coração enorme que nos indica o caminho se nos silenciarmos o suficiente para o ouvir e temos quem nos possa amparar, se soubermos parar…e receber.

Soube ficar quieta e calada quando as palavras não eram o necessário e quando as ações seriam redundantes ou inadequadas.

Soube felicitar-me e celebrar porque afinal… afinal correu tudo muito bem e aquela que foi a jovem mãe não tem mais com que se preocupar ou questionar. O caminho foi-se mostrando. Foi sendo caminhado. E a vida foi sendo generosa no seu embalo, porque fomos permitindo que ela nos pegasse na mão e nos ensinasse a dançar.

Hoje, olho para a frente e sinto-me perfeitamente em paz. 

Olho para o agora e sei que o posso abraçar com alegre e grato abandono, porque a Diva, a que veio para me despertar, é uma belíssima mulher por dentro e por fora, segura de si, independente e madura apesar da sua tenra idade. 

Afinal, fizemos todos um excelente trabalho - mãe, pai, avós, tios, primos, amigos, professores, colegas… e a própria Diva, claro, a protagonista do seu próprio desenrolar. 

Hoje, celebro estes 25 anos de maternidade assim. Em amor infinito. Porque este amor que sinto, esta gratidão que transborda, não cabe nesta folha. Nem no mundo inteiro.

Uma coisa é certa e será sempre: nós não controlamos nada. Não sabemos nada. Vamos descobrindo. Vamos sabendo. E depois é bom que saibamos também ir largando… para abrir espaço para o mais que se abre em cada instante. 

Cada respiração, cada momento, é um momento novo, nunca antes vivido. Que esta verdade seja acarinhada com o entusiasmo inocente que vemos nos nossos filhos. Que saibamos aprender com eles que nada é fixo. Tudo flui. Tudo muda. E ainda bem!

Tenho um presente para os leitores também!

Se quiseres receber o marvailhoso filme "O Profeta" - uma obra de animação lindíssima, criada a partir do poético e eternamente sábio livro de Khalil Gibran, diz que eu envio-te. Envia email para infoinpassioncoaching@gmail.com

www.inpassionmentoring.com 

The Scrolls of Ahyeen - The Scroll of Neverness

 

From the Scrolls of Ahyeen

These writings are not stories to consume. they are moments to inhabit.

They are not lessons either. They pulse as living fields.

Read slowly. Breathe them. Let them move through you.

---

The Scroll of Neverness

 

Where Time is an unknown eternity,

Infinitely formless in the Grace of All.

Where no-thing has ever been

And every-thing was ever born.

 

Not some-thing to return to -

Just a surrender to what has never un-been.

The Wholeness beyond dissolution,

Where neither geometry nor Dark or Light

Are.

 

Where Space has no hold -

And Freedom is neither concept, nor desire.

Neverness. It just Is,

Even without a graspable ground.

 

One cannot float in it,

Neither expand or contract through it.

Neverness. It just Is.

Ahhhh… an Echo that knows no bind.

This. This Is.

This Was.

This has Never un-been.

💖💕💖

Beloved reader, beloved friend, I share with you here the first glimpse of Soul Songs II - A Sigh of Wholeness, which has been my entire dedication over this blessed month of November 2025 🙏 May you breathe it as yours, as ours, as Whole.

Em PT

O Pergaminho da Eternidade

 

Onde o Tempo é uma eternidade desconhecida,

Infinitamente sem forma na Graça de Todos.

Onde nada jamais existiu

E tudo sempre nasceu.

 

Não algo a que retornar -

Apenas uma rendição ao que nunca deixou de existir.

A Totalidade além da dissolução,

Onde nem a geometria, nem a Sombra, nem a Luz

Existem.

 

Onde o Espaço não tem domínio -

E a Liberdade não é nem conceito, nem desejo.

Eternidade. Simplesmente É,

Mesmo sem um terreno compreensível.

 

Não se pode flutuar nela,

Nem expandir-se ou contrair-se através dela.

Eternidade. Simplesmente É.

Ahhhh... um Eco que não conhece limites.

Isto. Isto É.

Isto Foi.

Isto nunca deixou de existir.

The Scrolls of Ahyeen - She Remembered

 

From the Scrolls of Ahyeen

These writings are not stories to consume but moments to inhabit.

They are not lessons but living fields.

Read slowly. Breathe them. Let them move through you.

---

She Remembered

Mayumi loved to rise before daybreak — in the hush of the night right before life stirs for a new day, that sweet still moment before birdsong fills the air and the sky begins to gently lighten.
Such was her love for this particular hour that her body knew it instinctively; every morning she would awaken on her own.

Sometimes she would open her eyes and then close them again, as if diving deeper into the magic of the moment, a smile of contentment resting on her lips. It was as if the sun were already shining through her cheeks all the way into her heart, and she would simply stay — lying in bed, breathing in reverence for each breath, contemplating. Whether she drifted back into the warm arms of sleep or not did not matter. What mattered was the inner stillness perfectly matching the one around her.

Other mornings, Mayumi felt like bouncing out of bed, stretching her arms up toward the sky, quickly dressing to go outside and witness the glorious sunrise — drinking it in like a delicious, colorful elixir, the sparkle in her dark eyes attuning to the shimmer of the ocean beside her home.

She would sit upon the beach, or stand in reverence, or walk gently along the sand — the waves rhythmically lapping at her feet in their “good morning” greetings — and her entire being would attune to the melody of water, earth, air, and fire beating in her cells as one with nature, her nature, all of nature.

And then there were mornings like today, when standing on the shore was not enough; when the foam curling across the sand became a soft hand inviting her to dive in, to greet the sea from the inside out.

On this particular day, Mayumi felt so completely in love with the aurora painting the sky that laughter bubbled up from nowhere. As she leapt over the waves and dove into the sea, she laughed for no reason other than this: being here, being alive, being at one with herself and everything around her — merging with the elements, remembering…

Ah, remembering she had never been anything but all of this.
She had never been separate, or broken, or lost. It had seemed so — very much — and she had believed it too. The separation had felt so real.

But now, as the laughter spilled out and infused her with bliss, she knew who she was. Who she had always been.

She remembered.

---

✧𓂀✧

Keynote: Reunion

PT - 3 Décadas de Sabedoria Inspirada X - A Espera Parte 2

 

⏳ A Espera – Parte 2

Esperara como todos os outros.
Todos esperam, inconscientemente.

O tempo passara — fugira diante dos seus olhos —
E ela nunca o conseguira agarrar.
Nunca o conseguira prender,
Nem por meros instantes.

Ele não esperara.
Simplesmente… seguira o seu caminho.

Tivera as suas mágoas —
Marcas das quais nunca se libertou.
No fundo, era uma pessoa normal.
Uma simples pessoa.

E ainda assim… haviam-na esculpido.
Ao sabor das imaginações mais férteis —
Diferente.
Soberba.

As suas mágoas.
E tudo o resto.

Por: Melissa O'Neill / 1988 (o meu primeiro pseudónimo)

Foto de Mjombadi - Pexels.com 

PT - 3 Décadas de Sabedoria Inspirada IX - A Espera

 

⏳ A Espera

Não podia esperar mais.
Esperara toda a vida, mas agora… acabara-se.

Esperar para quê? Porquê?
No fundo, não conhecia a resposta.
Parecia-lhe ter esperado desde o dia em que nascera.

Passara a infância a aprender, a brincar, a conhecer a alegria e o medo — e a esperar.
Esperara pelo primeiro dia de escola, pelo fim do ano, pelas prendas de aniversário, pelo Pai Natal que nunca chegara.

Esperara pela adolescência, com todas as suas mudanças subtis e desejadas.
Pelos rapazes que amara — e abandonara.
Pela chegada dos 18 anos. Pela idade adulta. Pelo saber absoluto.

Esperara pelo marido.
Por uma vida estável e segura.
Pelos filhos — e pelo seu crescimento saudável.
Por um trabalho gratificante.
Por um emprego digno do seu esforço.

Esperara pela rotina…
E também pela sua quebra.
Pela riqueza, pelo sucesso — e, sobretudo, pela sorte.

Esperara, esperara, esperara.
Sempre esperara.
E não sabia porquê.

Só sabia, isso sim… que envelhecera.

E agora, que fazer?

O tempo — esse não para.
Não volta atrás.

Será que ele também espera?

Por: Melissa O'Neill / 1988 (este foi o meu primeiro pseudónimo)

Foto de Yogendras 31 - Pexels.com

 Não deu certo?

Esta afirmação sempre me intrigou… Sabes, é aquilo que se diz quando uma relação termina ou terminou.

A questão é muito simples: o que é que seria “dar certo”?

É que parece-me que raramente se reflete sobre o que se considera uma relação válida por oposição a uma supostamente não válida.

Então quer dizer que todas as relações que terminam são erros? Nunca deviam sequer ter existido?

E se não tivessem existido os parceiros seriam mutuamente mais felizes por nunca se terem aventurado pelos caminhos do que se diz ser “amor”?

E depois há mais uma questão: e o que era “amor” para cada um e para ambos?

Vamos assumindo ideias pre-feitas sobre o que é e não é ideal e quando algo não se encaixa no rótulo é estampado como um engano ou uma série de tropeços que levaram a um trambolhão que eventualmente poderia ter sido evitado. É isso?

Pois bem, e falo por experiência própria: não há um único relacionamento que seja dispensável no nosso caminho. Se escolhemos explorá-los - os relacionamentos - é porque vemos neles algo que nos espelha. Só que muitas vezes não estamos cientes que porventura possam estar a espelhar mais da nossa sombra do que do nosso lado mais solar. 

“O lado lunar” como diz o nosso bem amado Rui Veloso, é aquele que mais importa descobrirmos sobre nós mesmos, pois só ele nos revela o que precisa ser amado em nós. Não pelos outros, mas por nós próprios. O que precisa de ser reconhecido. Aceite. Abraçado. Integrado. E isso acontece de forma muito mais rápida, produtiva e contundente quando temos um espelho humano diante de nós, especialmente se for bem próximo do nosso coração.

São precisamente os relacionamentos que “não deram certo” que reúnem as cartas mais valiosas do nosso baralho interno. Só que é preciso coragem para parar de culpar o outro por aquilo que “nos fez”, parar e virar o binóculo para dentro de nós mesmos e perguntarmo-nos: “mas afinal porque é que eu me interessei sequer por esta pessoa? E porque é que me envolvi com ela?” E se tiver sido daquelas relações bem difíceis “porque é que eu não consegui ver o que estava a acontecer?” Ou “porque é que eu permiti…?” (Preenche of espaço conforme te servir melhor no teu caso em particular). 

E estas perguntas não serão como forma de auto-julgamento ou punição a nós mesmos, mas sim como forma de abrirmos as portas a um discernimento mais alargado sobre o que nos impele a envolvermo-nos com certos perfis de pessoa e o que nos leva a agir de certas formas com essas mesmas pessoas. Tudo isto para depois podermos perceber o que realmente queremos e não queremos, quem realmente somos. O que nos adiciona e o que nos subtrai e qual é a origem real do buraco que sentimos e que nenhum relacionamento, por mais idílico que seja, pode preencher até que nós o preenchamos com o amor que sempre esperou por ser recebido de dentro para fora.

Essa história do “felizes para sempre” simplesmente não existe!!!!!! Há casais, sim, que ficam juntos toda a vida. Mas garantidamente enfrentam inúmeras tempestades no seu relacionamento. Só que navegam-nas e alguns transcendem-nas e crescem com elas - e quando ambos crescem no mesmo sentido e proporção, conseguem permanecer juntos uma e outra vez. Noutros casos, deixam-se ir ficando por comodismo, medo da solidão ou falta de confiança em si mesmos mascarada de “estar sempre lá para os outros”, “não fazer ninguém sofrer”, “ficar pelos filhos” e afins.

E o “dar certo” é um mero conceito vão de sentido. Se acaso fosse válido, quereria dizer que tudo o que muda está de alguma forma “errado”, quando a maior certeza desta vida é mesmo a mudança. 

Acreditar neste “deu certo” ou “não deu certo” é o mesmo que acreditar que “os outros morrem mas eu não”! Absurdo, não é?

E tudo isto para dizer que não é preciso ter medo dos relacionamentos, de abrir o coração e de sentir ampla e completamente. De ficar vulnerável. Sem chão. E outras coisas mais que se sentem quando bate aquele borbulhar de paixão, mais ou menos intenso. Quando surge aquela chama que impele o relacionar. Desde que não seja com a mulher ou com o marido da ou do vizinho 😂 e mesmo nesses casos, é questão de nos perguntarmos em primeiro lugar porquê o interesse no parceiro ou parceira de outra pessoa quando estamos num relacionamento. Se estamos preparados para as consequências. E ou se há algo de mais importante a mostrar-se em nós e no nosso relacionamento que precisa de ser abordado antes de qualquer outra enxa(queca) adicional😜. 

Enfim. Tenho dito. E mais, em jeito de conclusão: estou muito, mas mesmo muito grata por todos os relacionamentos que tive até agora e por incrível que possa parecer não dispensaria nenhum, mesmo os mais dolorosos, que foram aliás os meus maiores Mestres. 

E viva o Amor 💖 - aquele que vive cá dentro! O único que cresce e floresce constantemente e que não tem validade nem precisa de “dar certo” ou “errado”😉. Puro, pleno, incondicionalmente compassivo, aquele que recebe todas as nossas sombras com um abraço carinhoso e nos mostra que afinal nada em nós está fora do alcance da aceitação plena. Que não depende de ninguém e que não busca ser reciprocado ou compreendido. O Amor real. Verdadeiro. Esse que nos pode sim, permitir amar não só a nós mesmos como aos outros de forma livre. 

Ah pois, e já agora uma última coisinha: o amor não dói!!!! O que dói são as ilusões que vamos criando em torno dele. O Amor, esse, vive intocado, inteiro, leve e infinito no âmago do nosso Ser. Sempre. 

😍Mais sobre o tema dos relacionamentos no meu livro Ser!... Amor: Para Além da Ilusão 😍

Em inglês: https://inpassionmentoring.com/inpassion-publications

E em português: https://inpassionmentoring.com/pt-inpassion-publications

PT - 3 Décadas de Sabedoria Inspirada VIII - O Sonho

 

🌫️ O Sonho

Não havia casas.
Não havia pessoas.
Não havia nada — senão uma extensa plataforma de relva, suspensa numa nuvem espumosa e macia.

Sobre essa plataforma, corria uma criança.
Os seus cabelos louros e cintilantes esvoaçavam com a brisa.
Dos olhos verde-esmeralda emanavam raios de vida, de luz, de inteligência.
As faces, do mais puro rosado, uniam-se a lábios de contorno perfeito — simples e sorridentes.

Essa criança transbordava alegria.
O seu corpinho frágil era quase angélico.
À sua volta, não havia o mais pequeno indício de tristeza, pobreza ou miséria.

Mas eis que ela cai.
Cai da plataforma como uma leve pena,
Com o rosto contorcido de terror.

Cai, cai… até aterrar numa nova plataforma,
Que em nada se assemelha à anterior.

Agora há casas.
Há pessoas.
Há ruas e ruelas onde o sol nunca penetra.

Em todos os cantos espreitam sombras assustadoras —
Possíveis fantasmas dos primeiros habitantes daquele lugar sombrio.
Ninguém ri. Ninguém fala.
A criança chora. Mas ninguém a vê.

Desesperada, grita.
Agarra-se aos que passam.
Mas ninguém a vê.

Então corre, em busca de outra queda.
Perde-se nas ruelas que se bifurcam sem fim.
Cercam-na. Sussurram.
Ri-se delas uma histeria invisível.
As ruelas prendem-na com garras húmidas e escorregadias…
E a criança cai de novo.

Desta vez, não há mais plataformas.
Só um céu imenso, de um azul profundo e penetrante.

A criança caminha no céu — no vazio do céu —
Sem saber o que encontrará ao dobrar a esquina formada por uma nuvem gigante.

Aos poucos, afasta-se.
Afasta-se…
E desaparece no vazio.

As luzes apagam-se.
O espetáculo acabou.
Era um sonho.
Pura e simplesmente, um sonho.

1985 / Melissa O'Neill (O meu pseudónimo até 2012)

The Scrolls of Ahyeen - The Return of Language

From the Scrolls of Ahyeen

 In this particular expression today, I share about the many months where I could not find words, where writing seemed to have vanished and even speaking was sparse. And alas, also, of what came next and is here now🙏

The Scrolls of Ahyeen - The Eye of the Storm

 

From the Scrolls of Ahyeen

These writings are not stories to consume but moments to inhabit.
They are not lessons but living fields. 

Read slowly. Breathe them. Let them move through you.

---

The Eye of The Storm

Aware of his silent Presence, Aayan sat in quiet contemplation amidst the hustle and bustle of one of the most crowded squares in his town. It was a peculiar experience. To be there, so still, and yet there was so much movement around him that it seemed like he was in a parallel dimension where everything else was in slow motion and even the sounds were muffled by his almost tangible silence. It was a blessing to finally feel like this. Especially because he had known so many tides and storms in the past.

There had been a time when Aayan, though very still when compared to most people, had experienced himself as storm. He once moved like a cyclone — cutting paths, stirring depths, whipping the hidden into air, providing a clear mirror for transformation that arrived mostly as upheaval. It had been disconcerting to always whip up strong winds of change, even when not intending to do anything at all.

It had been a necessary frequency, no doubt, but a very challenging one also. And it had been perfect. Just perfect. It did not need fixing. It could not be refined either. It was what it was.

There had been a drive. A passion for transformation. A mission to accomplish. Like a huge comet leaving its fiery trail across the universe’s backdrop, travelling across space with the speed of a million light years and the intensity of the big bang itself.

One day, however, the comet crashed into a planet – let’s say Earth – and its fire became extinct. It was no longer in motion to land somewhere. No longer blazing trails.
All of a sudden, its purpose was complete.

To Aayan this had seemed like dying. Literally. He had found it hard to cope with daily necessities even. So, he had decided to go far away, to a remote sanctuary where he could be with himself and find his new rhythm, if there was one to be found.

For many months Aayan had lived simply. Tending to the gardens of the sanctuary, to the animals, cooking, cleaning, going for long walks when he was capable. Many days his health failed him and all he could do was lie in bed, breathe and wait for it to pass.

Even his mind had been so blank that no real capacity for reasoning was present. On one hand this had been a blessing, keeping what otherwise would have been noise, down to the bare minimum inner clutter. On the other hand it had felt strange, almost like losing his sense of things, not being able to process anything through thought, as if he had lost all notion of intelligence. Possibly how it feels when someone has a mental breakdown. He wondered. And then again, it didn’t matter. This was what was here. This was what needed to be embraced.

And so Aayan woke up each new day, not with a sparkle of passion or joy, but with the quiet inevitability of still being alive and nothing much to manage but go about the natural unfolding of simple tasks.

Aayan felt so blank that not even worry had space to inhabit his inner world. There was nothing to worry about. Whether this would pass or not seemed irrelevant. There was nothing else, nowhere else, no one else.

What had brought about such a turnaround in Aayan’s life, you may ask? The answer is very simple. He had done everything he had come here to do. Fulfilled every contract, lived every dream, developed every passion, healed every wound, let go of every projection, said goodbye to every hope, embraced every failure, celebrated every victory, detached from every outcome, released every need, every dependency, relinquished every rejection, settled every judgement or blame, resolved every guilt, every shame, every separation within himself. He had held the world until he could no longer carry, he had bowed to death and he had loved beyond illusion. Through countless experiences. Countless people. Countless places. The entire span of his existence in this lifetime had come to a crescendo and quite literally imploded, for there was nothing else to grow into through that trajectory.

It had all imploded not because it was wrong or faulty. Much on the contrary. It could not be more authentically whole. And so it came to its own end as a natural cause of its own effect.

This ending of all that had been, left Aayan floating in no man’s land. His inner world swirling in the aftermath of the implosion. Until he could settle at the bottom of it and rest. And breathe. And see.

And what he saw was so beautiful, that Aayan could only feel grateful, despite the pain he had gone through whilst suspended in-between the what had been and what was to come.

The motion had gone. No more spin. No more drive. Only a still gravity. Intense. Quietly intense. He became the eye of the storm. And even as storms raged around him, across the world, to his inner knowing there was a quiet inevitability. The centre unmoved. He had become. Transformation revealed by stillness, not created by movement any longer.

And thus, the storm itself bowed to stillness.
And Aayan could live.
Live anew.
Not again.

He had become Life itself — silent, sovereign, whole.

---

✧𓂀✧

Keynote: Equilibrium 💙

www.inpassionmentoring.com

The Scrolls of Ahyeen - Existence Simply Existing

 

From the Scrolls of Ahyeen

These writings are not stories to consume but moments to inhabit.

They are not lessons but living fields.

Read slowly. Breathe them. Let them move through you.

---

Existence Simply Existing

She decided to allow freedom to guide her every step, and in this a whole new landscape of possibilities arose.

Life became lithurgy. Never random, never planned. The paradox fully harmonious as the impermanence of moments became the song of the permanence of beingness, colouring each breath with reverence and wonder.

On this particular occasion away from home, Zalika chose to camp. It was a calling from the land itself. It wanted to hold her close to its warmth and show her how cared for she was. And so it was with great joy that Zalika pitched her tent in an open camping ground, where no one else seemed to be interested to be on that particular occasion but her.

It stood right beside the vast wide ocean and the air was as pure as the crystal clear water. The wind was playing with her hair and dancing around her skirt as the gentle warmth of the sun caressed her skin with the unmistakable touch of welcome.

She smiled at each detail, slowly savouring the stakes buried, one by one, into the soft grass and soil beneath it — her temporary home for tonight becoming stable and prepared to host her. And though the “walls” were paper thin, inside it felt like a solid cocoon with no barriers of sound, so that the waves of the ocean, the chanting of the birds, the rustling of the leaves on the trees above, the crickets and all else could play its symphony for Zalika in proper stereo surround with the best quality system – nature itself.

And this is how, that night, Zalika discovered what it felt like to feel completely held by the land. So safe it defied even common understanding of what safe means. No thread of her nervous system felt stirred to keep guard. The peacefulness was entire.

Throughout the night she woke often. Not in turmoil but in restfulness. The sense of fulfilment came about so strongly that it wanted to be acknowledged.

And after several nudges inviting her to step out of the tent in the middle of the night, Zalika finally gave in. She unzipped the tent’s entrance and stepped outside into a mild atmosphere of delight. The moment she looked up into the sky she was overtaken by awe. It was simply magnificent! The stars so bright against the dark backdrop of nightness that she could not go back into the tent without detaining her gaze up into the sparkling canvas above her. So she decided to pull out her mattress and sleeping bag and lie on the ground, just letting the stars soak into her system. Every now and then a shooting star or a moving comet leaving a fleeting trace of light across the darkness.

She felt like she was witnessing herself inasmuch as the sky was being witnessed through her. There were not two separate landscapes. Only One. And she was all of it and yet no single thing.

The depth of silence was that of a temple where one enters barefoot to offer reverence to the holy. The depth of stillness was absolute.

And in this Zalika recognized what unconditional wholeness truly meant. What it felt like to the very core of her bones, in the very centre of each cell, in the very space that held the physicality together, now embodied by what precedes sound and movement.

The total fusion she was experiencing was a love so vast that there was nothing else but it. Every single detail was an emanation of it.

And Zalika knew, then and there, Presence so full that nothing else really mattered and yet everything was absolutely sacred in the intrinsic value of All that Is.

She felt so completely safe in her solitude that the very notion of aloneness dissolved. And in that moment she became a Temple of Presence, walking, breathing, tasting life in marvel and wonder.

She became the unmoving centre in the shifting form. Stillness in motion, freedom at rest. All at once.

Ah and the grand realization dawned on her. In Wholeness nothing is missing. Not attracted. Not sought. Not even manifested. It simply is. 

The shimmering night sky was a living testament of wealth that requires no context, overflowing as radiance. Not added, not earned, but revealed as the natural breath of Existence. Existence simply existing, and in that existence, all that is needed is naturally present.

Not partial. Whole. Not alone. Present. Not drawing something to oneself. Existing. Not as something added from outside. Intrinsic radiance. All spun from simply Being.

And so the sky sighed in Zalika’s breath and her breath enfolded heaven and earth into a body that now knew life as infinite. Death as blessing. Birth as emergence. Existence simply existing.

---

✧𓂀✧

Keynote: Consecration💫

www.inpassionmentoring.com