Love (n.)

LOVE

it usually starts with  ‘once upon a time’ and sometimes ends badly. .

but at all times Love is Love and no time spent with Love is wasted one..

Sure, not every love story has a fairy tale end. And some of you might say, we don’t live in a fairy tale world, with dragons and princes, with beasts and witches, with bad wolves and swords. But I will agree to disagree, because ..think for a minute .. we really do; this IS  a world of disguised dragons and princes, disguised beasts and witches..(and not necessarily because the Carnival is already here). So all love stories can be fairy tale love stories…

it’s a rope, on which you hold on to; other times you are on the verge of hanging yourself; 

but at all times it feels like a struggle to have a good balance walking on it.. and chances are you might fall..

it’s your weakness, and other times or the same times, your strength;

but at all times, Love is what makes the difference, what makes you feel alive, what gives life to your life.. what makes your heart beat with joy and what makes your every day more colorful…

it is YOU in human shape;

sometimes you see it, other times I can only see it;

but at all times, Love is Love, and though Love is blind, Love is deaf-initely right..

Love,

AA

It’s Love that makes the world go round..

`’Tis so,’ said the Duchess: `and the moral of that is–“Oh, ’tis love, ‘tis love, that makes the world go round!”‘ 

Alice in Wonderland


a

Thank you..

For I gave you my heart

and that was brave

and when I needed it you forgave me

and this was bravier.

That I won’t forget…

 ♥

For you showed me what is a mighty heart

and what is strength

for you taught me a lesson about Love

and the difference between heart and hurt.

This I will never forget…

 ♥

For when I was lost in shadows

you were still there

not like a shadow by my side

but as the sunlight

burning my nonsense in the fire..

This I won’t forget…

 ♥♥

Love,

AA

Counting

counting-heartsHow many times a day do you think of me?

How far would you travel to see my face?

How many times have you ever dreamt of me?

And how much do you miss me?

How many lifetimes have our hearts known each other?

Being with you and not being with you is how I count time..

Maybe that is why time with me is kind.

in the end, nothing of all this counting matters..

it is just another nonsense

because..

what you can count does not matter and what you cannot, does..

What you can count, does not count and what you cannot, does..

Love,

AA

C-old or G-old

kintsugi-heart

Going back some decades, I find myself admiring my grandma, when she was telling stories to my sister and I in bed. Her storytelling made the summer afternoons magical, stirred my imagination, so much that every single day I was looking forward to that moment. At the end of the day, I always wondered to myself, ‘How cool it must be to get old and know all these stories’..

Going a few decades ahead, to now, I still admit how cool it is to know beautiful stories, or better yet to make up new stories, and invite others in the world of wonder and magic and mystery and fun. For me, storytellers are like a dark chest of tales and wonders. They weave the threads of the world with their words, imbibing life to what was before imagined or keeping the world in motion. From writers of books to grandmothers. From the man sitting next to you on the bus telling his story on your way home, to the love story revealed by a single look in the eyes of a lover..

Oh, I should not forget, my grandmother used to ask often in the end, ‘What does the story teach us?’.

Truth be told, not many have that privilege, growing older, as my grandma.. You are supposed to get wiser, you are supposed to be taught lessons, but that is not always the case..What did the story of your life really teach you?

And truth be told, getting older, our hearts get cracks.. some get c-old-er.

Truth be told, I repeat, getting older, our hearts get cracks.. but others get g-old-en.

There is the japanese art of repairing with gold the broken objects, named kintsugi, creating a ‘new’ perfectly imperfect version of the ‘older’ one, the cracked one. What they do is fill the cracks with gold, because the fact that the object is broken and has a history makes it more valuable and beautiful. In the end, broken and older is better than new..!

I have come to realize, age is a number and really does not say much..

I would dare ask ‘how many cracks has your heart?’. This question must say more..

And much more, ‘did you become cold or gold?’

Love,

AA

Some nonsense..

holding-hands

If you fall, I will be there – Floor

And if you rise, I won’t be there – Sleep

And if you fly, I will be there – Sky

And if you cry, I won’t be there – Smile

And if you sleep, I will be there – Dream

And know, even if you stay awake, I will not not be there – Dream

And if you break, I won’t be there – Who you were before

If you fear, I will be there – Courage, always know,

But if you doubt, I won’t be there – Faith, forget me not.

And if you try to go slower or  faster, I will be there – Time

And if you give your light, I will be there – Shadow, behind you or by your side

But if you give up, I won’t be there – Dream Come true,

so please dare….

follow this nonsense, whoever wants to add a line or two,

join the madness, please do,

I will be there 🙂

Love

AA

Fear to Love : Cheater to Teacher

One of the things I do – many might call it nonsense – is I take one word, which I don’t like, and I change it. I rearrange the letters and I find one that sounds good to me.. Cheater is a no no for me.. ergo Teacher is created..

Life is a long pilgrimage from Fear to Love

I think Paulo Coelho’s above quote is summing up brilliantly what is Life..

How many fears do we love? And how many of them stay with us for so long in our lives, that in the end, they are cheating us of all the joy and the love and the life we could have?

How many times have we been afraid or felt fear to be loved?

fear to love (2)

Why put so many boundaries around, why build a cage around..

“To be safe” answers the mind.

To be safe…? Safe from what? Look closer and you ‘ll see, you end up being safe from Life..

Now that’s some real nonsense..

Don’t be protected from Life itself.. how will It reach out to you?

The nightingale can still sing in the cage, but it’s not in the cage it is meant to be..

Love,

AA