Somewhere, here, there, restless soul wandering everywhere

Man is a mystery. But this mystery must be solved. If you try a whole life to find this secret, never say you have wasted your time. The great writer Dostoevski used to say that he was dealing with this mystery in order to become a real human being. Life is a gift from God and the simple fact that we exist and we have been chosen to live in this world, should give us peace, happiness and joy, but man- this animal endowed with reason, embitters his own life with so many small things which blind and hinder him to see the clear water of a spring , to feel the fresh air of the forests, the enchantment of mornings and springs evenings. But not every day we can see the sun, not every day is Sunday. Life looks like a torrent, because is troubled, despotic, threatening, noisy and short. After a few windy days, with not a small light from the kind sun, I decide to take a walk in the park, where I can find quiet and peace, anxious to see a little sign of springs coming when everything renews. Somewhere, near an old tree, hiding secrets of the past and a heart drawn by lovers, a tiny snowdrop revealed his little head. The smell of the flowers awakens me from the state of numbness of winter. I can feel something soft and sweet, like in a fairy-tale of my childhood. And though there is no one around, I feel this world is big, unknown, strange and unfamiliar to me. I do not know where did I come from, what am I and where am I going to go?. If Earth is my home, where was I before coming here, with you people and with you nature? Every time I seek for truth, I find nothing else but doubt and uncertainty. But there is something sure, the fact that the most beautiful days of our life are those buried in the tomb of memories and the most beautiful memories are those coming from our childhood, with its innocence and particular charm. Thousands of thoughts are crossing my mind and I am thinking about writers, who have the same restless soul, just like mine; they are seeking for answers all their life, they write their doubts and release through writing, everything kept in their breath-taking minds. So I decide to spread my thoughts on blank papers in the middle of nature, because I am part of it, created by it, having the same almighty Creator, God. Thinking and writing, I

may become the brilliant researcher of the human spirit. But I dont think I will be able to be anything else than a realist, in the deepest sense of the word, trying to depict the profoundness of the human soul. I will never be able to understand people, until I analyze carefully humans personality. In order to get to the essence, you must pass the entire material. And this material is our life, a mystery which must be solved; we make efforts so many years to penetrate its senses, but we do not waste our time in vane; in this way we learn to be human beings. Man!... What a word..with no resonance! Amputated, cripple word! He doesnt even seem a real word. Just a pairing of letters and thats it. A vowel who wants to fly and two consonants wanting to keep it like a prisoner! And yet, this little tiny word represents something huge- the highest level of creation, the culminating point of a program of unsuspected achievements, a graphic point, after the longest divine phrase-a phrase which lasted six days! After this word, we have nothing. Nothing!.. Strange thing. The word nothing is longer than man. But we shouldnt judge the importance of words through their graphic image. In this way, all the libraries of the world would be reduced to homogenous collections of the same primer, printed in different editions. The word man is nothing but a firm the firm of a luxury store, where very often inside you can find something very different from what is written outside. What I want to say is that in everyday life , not every man proves the existence of the being whom God wanted to make after His face and resemblance A true man is the chief-mechanic of his own factory. He is always living near the inflammable materials and machineries with all kinds of cogged wheels, waiting nothing else but a wrong step to destroy him. But you cannot become chief-mechanic until you pass the whole hierarchy of the profession, from disciple to expert. Monuments are not made of much material. The human brain is tiny compared to the rest of the body. For example I will not build for myself a penthouse, because you can rise up to heaven only with your mind, not with your body. And I do not need too many windows either, because one is enough in order to see what is beyond me. But I do not think

that people in general , will be able to find in them the artist to understand what they really want. I, myself, can see my own construction just like the heron sees the fish at the bottom of the water, like the ants perceive ultra-violet sounds and like the Apostles saw Jesuswith their own eyes. Man, this unknown being is such a complex reality and cannot be deciphered only through the means of an only discipline, psychology. Any organism presents an inner unity and has a specific value and endeavourers to a purpose. The quality of a person is something which cannot be measured by other being than man. The person-is a form of existence, unique and necessary for the spirit and cannot be anything else but a subject, an I , a being who can know, feel, love, hate, hope, want and work. Man is perceived by philosophers as a reed; the most fragile existing in nature, but a thinking reed. There is no need for the whole universe to obstinate against him . Just a steam, a drop of water are enough to kill him. People love themselves so much, or at least most of them; and this tendency is the beginning of any disorder, inner or social. Everybody seeks with vanity to be approved and praised by others. But people are so mad and would be a bigger madness for us not to be mad too. The man, who digs for a well, first of all finds a layer of black earth, a layer of yellow clay, another one of sand and finally encounters a strong spring. In the same way, those who begin from their youth, to seek for the mystery of man , dig layer after layer, until they find the spring of life. At first we think that the root of evil is in environment, in society, but then we realize that the whole life of a man is a continuous terrible fight between good and evil, having very seldom the main element: suffering. Evil does not mean suffering, it is just one of its components, because suffering builds, renews, remakes, restores man. If we start from the origins, we observe that people were children at the beginning , these being the new people, whom, flourishing in the great light of life, lean with meditation, on the ground where old people sleep forever, those who created these new people, just like flowers from the powder of old flowers. If it is true that there are other worlds and that people are immortal and they are coming from other worlds, then there must be something beyond us, something stronger than us and this makes me feel odd, because I find myself at this point where I would like to find why me, a stranger, have been chosen to come here on Earth. What I do know for sure is

that I enjoy being here, among people like me and most of all in the middle of nature, Being here, makes me human; in me penetrates the power of an immortal life and I am happy, in my own way. Such a big mistake makes the one who thinks that sunrises, noon and twilights repeat, that moments flow in a monotonous way. Vasile Alecsandri, the poet who described the beauty of our native land used to say that Romanian is born to be a poet and another great Romanian writer Octavian Goga said that true poetry begins after it ends on the paper. But you cannot paint nature on some papers from a notebook, because she is immortal just like people. Generally, life and nature are beautiful and generous. Man must learn how to use them rationally for his and others happiness. Although he desires to integrate into the natures harmony, trying to decipher her and follow her example, he is always astonished in front of the unknown with whom the nature astonishes him more and more every day. As I wander lonely, meditating, having all these thoughts in my mind, I realize that I do not desire a permanent loneliness. A temporary one is necessary for me to relax and think. But I seek for friendship and company. My soul was not brought in this huge place to be all alone. The joy of a human being is another human being. Why? To fill the most streched desert of our spirit. Only a life lived for others worths living . I cannot imagine sun with its light on my face, flowers with their smell near me, laughings of children around, songs of birds in the trees, without having close to me another stranger, like me, coming from somewhere, here, there.I do have people around me, relatives. But family where you were born is like a crow nest. It is usefull as long as you cannot fly, but after you have your wings..you almost say goodbye forever. Is it possible for me to find someone I can fly with?what I do need is a stranger to complete myself , because being alone I feel that I live only half this life.I want the possibility of living life completely. It is late but I still like to walk and observe, while thinking.I can see two lovers there, it doesnt matter where.What matters is that they are happy and I can see in their eyes that they have found for a moment the sense of life. They are strangers, but they do not care about this now. Love gives stateliness to man, the biggest treasure of all times.Rarely skips him from suffering, but this is the one who strenghtens the spirit, taking it on top of immortality. And I keep walking, thinking about past and future, never about present, which is never my purpose. Future is what I hope for.In this way, I may never truly live, just hope to

live. Meditation calms me down.I can very well conceive a man without hands or feet, even without head(because only experience teaches us that head is more necessary than feet). But I cannot conceive a man who doesnt think . He would be a stone. Instinct and reason are signs of two natures.If you dont listen to your instincts you are unhappy, but if you dont listen to your reason , you are a fool. Reason gives stateliness to man. That is why I seek for knowledge, I want to know more and more, , to cultivate myself, to do something to find my place here, on Earth, during this journey. Books must be like air for people in order to find happiness because every page has two writings. The first writing tells you what to learn , and the other one tells you what to do in life. And life is the sea where where we pour like rivers. It is the water we have from the schools fountain. But we are not allowed to drink this water , until we become the filter of our own existence. We should open the book to learn what others thought, and then we should close it, to think ourselves too. I should stay longer but time sometimes is my enemy. There is nothing longer than time, because he is the measure of infinity;nothing shorter because he is missing at all our projects, nothing slower for the one who waits, nothing quicker for the one who is happy. Painfull for me is when I realize I am loosing my childhood completely and my innocence.I seek for things I have never looked for before, I think in a different way, I meditate at something else.Now I am not interested where my doll is.Spiritual separation from what I lived before is a song following me all these years and raises in the most unexpected moments of my life, awaking in me the regret of past days, but still life goes on , with its mysteries and and beauty. Now the sun is pretty quiet, and I am quiet too.The sky.Blue.Infinit.Pure.Why blue I dont know. Some things are just meant to be. Blue must be a colour of peace, like the colours in heaven , that special place where people go after life.they go there if they did good things.But being good is so relative.I resume to the fact that being good means no to do any harm to others., because you can ran away from everything but you cannot ran away from your own conscience. I can see red near the sun .Sunset is close.Red could be a colour of war. The physical war, that kills people or the inside war that kills each of us. That war produced by people we loved. People born to make us suffer. I judge them . But I shouldnt do it anymore. If I still judge them I wont have time to love them anymore and I do not want to loose this feeling.

I should come back and return to may ordinary things.I should live without so many thoughts, live concretely.But I have dreams and I cannot live without them.They give me strength and help me find my place in an unknown and complicated world. I decide to return;there is so much quiet and peace;silence all over the place; shadows from the trees make me feel scared from time to time;I can already see the full moon.Suddenly I can hear steps behind me.Maybe is just a coincidence, but as I walk, the steps keep following me.I feel a shiver all over my back and..I dont know what to do.I have never felt so scared and lonely.I start thinking what did I do wrong these days, months, years.Why God has decided to punish me?Is it because I havent been to church for more than one month?Is it because sometimes I doubt about his exsitence, I get angry with him because very seldom he ruins my plans?O, God, no matter how upset you are, please..help me get rid of this.The shadow behind me comes closer, I can almost feel its breath, but I keep walking, faster and faster. The shadow is a he, I can see his face, he just caught my arm.But..wait a minute, he is young, and..what?He smiles at me.I calm down and try to smile too, but probably I still look scared.He starts talking to me, telling me I should consider him my angel because I was almost about to loose my notebook.He noticed I had dropped it and wanted to give it back to me.How kind of him.I dont know why , but I have the strange sensation that I know him, he must be a student living in the same campus with me, because I recognize his face.His eyes are so beautiful and there is no mark of ill-will on his face, tall, well-dressed, he doesnt seem an ordinary student;and yet, he is. Blush!I cant believe such things are crossing my mind right now.Last time I liked a boy..it was three years ago.But the feeling is so nice, because I feel confortable near him. We start talking all kind of stuff.After a few minutes of conversations, I realize he likes temporary loneliness as I do.All day long teachers, courses, evening is so relaxing and peacefull to him.He keeps smiling at me, and I begin to feel a strange feeling of intense joy and I am pretty sure now that although I dont know where am I and what am I doing here and who am I..I definetely know I am in the right place at the right time. Perhaps God has other plans for me, bigger and greater that I would evere thought of. And I like this stranger near me, and I hope this little friendship born now, will last forever and maybe will be transformed in something big, great and perfect.O world, the stranger you are to me, the happier I feel.

amyshinske@PineappleHousing.com http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/111289/childrens-literature http://www.answers.com/topic/children-s-literature