Unwritten symmetry

There has always been a skipped beat between my mind and my heart, on a real, body level, and on a metaphorical one; one keeps moving, thinking, working, creating and destroying, building bridges, the other one tries to keep up with the former one. And sometimes, it barely succeeds. It has always been a search for the perfect symmetry between these two, it has always been hard to find the right people, to find someone who really understands what I am doing, what I am, and maybe more importantly, why I do it.

Maybe I should have been a doctor, using this burst of energy and insanity to save lives …but  I would like to think that we, as teachers, if we don’t save lives, at least we shape them. Not all of them can be saved. Or want to be saved. … You meet day by day glimpses of yourself, mirrors of what you would have been, or mirrors of inner selves, mirrors that are very close to your soul or, on the contrary, who are very far of who you are. But you always see the human being – naked, vulnerable, shaped by the environment, by the parent, by us, by their inner, complex mechanism… Because this is who I am, seeing the soul behind the mask, the shell.

I try to make a difference day by day. Sometimes, like today, I wish my brain would stop whispering and going into all the directions and let me rest. Do you know that feeling, when you hear all the sounds around you, like you are caught in a bubble of sounds and noise, but somehow, paradoxically, you cannot reach them, because of tiredness, because of being too far away, because your day was way too different from those noises? …

You close your eyes and you try to breathe. You hear the beatings and the knockings and you try to count them, but you can’t. This week three people told me that I was not made to stay in one place. Not created to settle, added a dear old friend and teacher, but having to find my own tune … and I keep trying to find that note, that missing beat between heart and mind … 

Who will save me from myself?

Are you nobody, too?...

Era ieri un gând care mă chinuia și nu îmi dădea pace. Un gând ce părea vechi de când lumea, sau cel puțin la fel de bătrân ca toate amintirile pe care le port, un gând, o propoziție, care rezuma tot ceea ce simt de la o vreme.

M-am săturat de superficialitate, de la niveluri personale la cele naționale. M-am săturat de oameni care privesc doar în ei, care nu știu să asculte, care se aud doar pe ei, care nu ies din ideile lor fixe, care nu știu să se schimbe, care nu știu să îi privească pe ceilalți, care sunt dispuși să îi sacrifice pe ceilalți doar pentru bunăstarea lor. Oare când vom învăța să fim umani?...

Mi-e teamă să nu sar. Sau mi-e teamă de supra-raționalitatea mea, care cenzurează fiecare pas care ar putea fi greșit. Mi-e teamă de acest urlet venit din rădăcini, zguduind, tăind, sfâșâind din interior. 

Simt uneori că urlu. În felul meu. Minimalist, timid, șoptit. Dar un urlet venit din adânc, ca acel gând de azi noapte, venit parcă dintr-o lume înrădăcinată-n mine, un urlet care pentru cei avizați, care dacă ar ști să asculte, ar acoperi toate urletele și toate strigătele de astăzi. Am simțit că urlu ca un animal rănit. Și aș fi dat orice pentru ca cineva să-l fi auzit. Un simplu gest de ,,I am here, I can hear you". Atât. Nu indiferență, nu tăcere. Dar poate pentru că nu vorbesc limbajul oamenilor normali, sau poate pentru că oamenii sunt prea preocupați de propriile lor răni și traume, nimeni nu l-a auzit.