09
April
2015

If you think you can do it... you will !!!

se pensi...

A story tells that...

A wise man was walking along a country lane, when he saw something at the edge, in the grass, maybe a rock, oddly shaped. "It is a snake," he thought. The snake uncoiled, snapped and bit him to death.

Another wise man walked down that same path, he saw the same stone oddly shaped. "It's a bird," he thought. In a flapping of wings, the bird flew away.

Like it or not, your own thoughts mark the course of the journey called LIFE. If you think of depression and failure, that's where you will find them.
If you think you are awkward and unpleasant, so you will behave.

If you think you can do it, you will...

21
November
2014

After long time….

Yes, after long time…

I can say this to you that are maybe following my web site and my blog that i really deserted in the last months, but could say the same to many people, friends and relatives that are part of my life, even to the closest ones.

After long time…

Does it happen even to you? You go through periods when you close yourself almost without realising, you build a wall made of air around you and slowly you sink inside it, inside that loneliness that we created…

You need a wake up, you need something that shakes out our numbness and gives you the strength and the courage to take down that wall of air and get out to life and to others with a big smile.

My wake up charged slowly during those last months, charge after charge, first thanks to the meeting with the group of Catholic Charismatic Renewal from Loreto, then with a wonderful trip in Australia with my family, and lately, just by chance with the volunteer experience in Maria Vision where on Tuesday and Thursday morning I keep company to the Fabio, the anchor man of Good Morning Holy Spirit; and finally my wake up rang with a trill so loud that was impossible not to hear it…

I reopened my eyes, my heart, my soul and i finally found that lost I, the orientation, the path I had lost, the compass with his four cardinal points:
my identity – my path, my past – Jesus, the reference point that accompany usa long the path – the mission, the deep meaning to give to this life.

Therefore, look around, open your eyes and if you realise that maybe, unconsciously you have built walls of air around you and you slowly closed yourself inside, pick up Joy, wear your best smile and start to take those walls down with Faith, get out from your shell and listen humbly because our Lord calls us one by one, by name, we shall only be ready to listen…

And if you would like to follow me at Good Morning Holy Spirit live from everywhere you are you can do it every Tuesday and Thursday morning from 10 to 11 Rome time in streaming on www.mariavisionitalia.it  or following us on Facebook: Buongiorno Spirito Santo.

Have a Good Life.

25
March
2014

A Source of living water

Torrente4

I was born stream, a trickle of water that shyly moves the first steps from the bowels of the earth, dazzled by the whiteness of the snow-fields, caressed by the leaves, warmed by the sun, pampered by the soft soil surrounding it, smoothened by the shiny stone...

I grew up this way, flowing slowly, protected by the motherly warmth of the earth and by the levees that clasped me like a fatherly hug...

Then, adolescent, I deleted the levees, abandoned the earth, and I blended into the sea...
With its storms, hurricanes, days of dead calm, the ice of the poles and the warmth of the tropics...
I stretched like the tide trying to touch every shore, to know every beach, every bay, every rock, every island, but always trying to keep a bit far from the ports too crowded and polluted.

The head plunged in the wonders hidden under the blue cloak, the treasures concealed in the deep, the bright corals, the colorful fishes and the scary ones, the sensual dance of the jellyfishes and the joyous one of the dolphins.

The arms open to welcome every passing boat, small sails that caressed me slipping away and leaving behind light colorful memories, the battleships with their load of war and hatred, the merchant ships who only seek to exploit you for money, and many small and large crafts and vessels that I have only seen from a distance, that I would have loved to know, that I don’t even remember anymore...

Then a warship hit me and sunk my radiant splendor, it found me there, with open arms, without levee or barriers and took away my enthusiasm and the desire to give myself and to search...
I locked myself out, shrunk, I moved upstream and I became a torrent...
Now I flow sometimes fast and sometimes relaxed, between waterfalls and plains, beaten by rocks sometimes pointed and caressed by flowers that come to wet themselves, bumped by the boulders that ruin on me and kissed by birds and animals that come to drink from me. I follow the path that the earth has prepared for me, I struggle, dig, swing, jump, I flow fast and I rest. I watch the world passing next to me taking all my time and I let myself be observed by anyone who wants to lay their eyes on me, but only for a moment, because the current has already changed me and in a flash I am myself but different.

I could not be sea anymore, but I could not even become a lake, quiet and still, caressed by the passage of life that as a gentle stream flows in and flows out almost without leaving a mark...

I am a torrent... but even if you are sea, river, lake or puddle... remember that every drop of water rise from a source of LIVING water!!!

Do not let yourself be contaminate...

10
November
2013

The strenght of a smile

In these days I discovered the overwhelming power of a smile, a real smile, the one that finds its strength in Love. “People” look at me and perhaps they think I became crazy, but nobody knows that my smile is telling them that they can attack me, they can try to destroy everything I own and my body as well, but they will never manage to nullify my soul and to kill Love.

16
June
2011

The Red Moon

This night in Dar es Salaam there was no power. Nothing new, since few months now we live with power rationing for reasons known only by few people, so nights with moon light and candle light are becoming a habit.

This night there was a wonderful shining full moon lighting the garden, the sea and the surroundings in the darkness. When you are in the dark, the silver light of the full moon gives a particular charm to everything she touches, an aura as in tales.

After dinner I sat in the garden, to enjoy the silence and that strange silver atmosphere, but slowly, mysteriously, something was changing.   Ace, my Rottweiler started to jump like a frog asking to play, while I was having the impression that the darkness of the night was suddenly coming.
Meanwhile from a corner of the garden my masai guard appeared. He was coming forward walking slowly and with his eyes on the sky. He stopped beside me and pointing to the moon he asked me in Swahili: “Where is she going?”

I had read about the eclipse, I had also said I wanted to take time to look at this astral conjunction, but then, as usually happens; “the important things of life” took over and deleted this “romantic” appointment from my mind.

But the magic of the events is stronger than any conditioning, so I found myself spending one hour in the darkness in my garden, accompanied by my masai guard and my dog admiring the moon slowly letting herself darken by the shadow that we were projecting on her.
I had the chance to admire two fantastic shows that were taking place at the same time in the gloom of my garden in Tanzania: the lunar eclipse, and the facial and vocal expressions of my masai guard.
The astonishment, the disbelief, and the innocence in the eyes of the masai, were reflecting in red aura that slowly was lighting up on the moon now that we, with our planet, had completely covered the light from the sun.

Two men, on the 15th of June 2011, standing one beside the other admiring the same astral event, one, I, the European, with all the knowledge of the case; the other, the masai, wondering what was happening to his moon; both convinced that in that exact moment something deeply great and mysterious was been accomplished.

In the Swahili language the word moon is translated with “mwezi”, the same word used for “month”.
The hours of the day in swahili are not counted as in all the European languages starting from an abstract “midnight”. In swahili the hour zero coincide with our six in the morning: the sunrise, and the our twelve coincide with our six in the evening: the sunset. Twelve hours marked by the rise and the set of the sun and twelve hours marked by the presence of the stars.

In Africa the rhythms of life are still dictated by nature, life still follows his natural path, masais, the real ones, are one of its last living witness.

I couldn’t explain him where his moon had gone, but all of a sudden he stared at me and told me: “By seven (one o’clock in the night) she will come back.
He turned and left our “observation point”. Now is twelve forty and the moon is almost completely uncovered and shining like before.
He was right…

23
April
2011

Easter 2011

‎2011 years ago a Man died on a cross, to follow the will of the Father, because he knew that his death would have been the Spring of a new life... Whatever is your belief, in the sign of the cross and of the teaching of that man called Jesus, i whish that this Easter may be for you the Spring of a new life... Happy Easter

gesu_in_croce

24
February
2011

Which is the border line between dream and reality?

“Which is the border line between dream and reality? What are you ready to sacrifice in order to realize your dreams and what not? What is the right thing to do?

24
February
2011

Shall we talk about love?

I would like to dedicate the first months of this new year to a theme that is often considered to be out of fashion, boaring, not so interesting... love.

Love has many faces, many aspects and involvments. Love between two young lovers, inebriated by passion, love between two person that shared a whole life together, and more, love between brothers, friends, parents and children...

Love, a feeling that unites all souls in this fantastic adventure called "life".

I will try to collect and donate you foreshortening of literary texts, poetry, songs, and sometimes even something coming from my heart... one at the time, in a fair dose... enjoy the reading

And if I know-- I, myself-- one flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doing-- Oh! You think that is not important!"

His face turned from white to red as he continued:

"If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there...' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened... And you think that is not important!"

He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing.

The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted. I took him in my arms, and rocked him. I said to him:

"The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will--"

I did not know what to say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more.

It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupery

24
February
2011

Shall we talk about love? N.2

It was not easy to find a traslation for this one.. and I still don't have the title, but I love it...

 

Lovers kiss standing

Against the doors of the night

And the people passing by point them

But lovers

They are not there for anybody

And it is only their shade

What it trembles in the night

Stimulating the anger of the people passing by

Their anger their contempt the laughs their envy

Lovers are not there for anybody

They are elsewhere far distant than the night

Far higher than the day

In the dazzling shine of their first love

 

Jaques Prevert (Translation by... me..)