Everything is yet to be done. What has been done is not ours.


As far as the memories of the stories reach, each being, when it appears in this place of the universe, tunes into the rhythms that receive him: with the human rhythms that have already modified the sunlight, that have already changed the climate, that already have altered the diet; that now breathes what it can, what there is; now the lie is tradition and the tradition is a lie; that now, what is important is to get, to reach, to achieve, to have, to possess…

Rhythms that were established as our own, as characteristic of the species. " Such is life" -recites the everyday popular saying-.

Philosophies, theories, religions, rites… and other actions, had the consciousness that the entire arsenal of rhythms of "such is Life" could be changed, could be improved.

The appearance of the gods and goddesses, God, meant a search, almost a revolution: commandments, precepts, laws, rules… Everything seemed to indicate that another rhythm had entered -the rhythm of the Creation, the Divine rhythm- to… "being", to "the daily doing". And so began and emerged the songs of praise, the prayers and the sacred rites, the priests and priestesses, the statements of sermons… that they extended to all populations…

Mankind, “the preferred creature of God" -could be the slogan- needs to convert into… virtuoso, merciful, gracious… Everything that it was not!

But it seems that those rhythms arrived late… or were “wrongfully” spread; yes: under the leadership of the intermediaries. And that made that the being, already under human rhythms, doubted, mistrusted. And soon, soon, they gave them motives for doing so.

The desire to know, control and dominate became fertile, very fertile! The reason, the logic, the cause and effect, dominated.

And there were left vestiges of commandments, precepts, divine messages, revelations… and a long etcetera. But the self-importance of the human being was established. The dictatorial monarchy… and presidential… and everything that we want to add, “the species” already was, with its rhythms, standards... And everything around should be subjected to, controlled and dominated.

Yes! There was the Universe and…! 

To discover it; to seize it.

Spiritual and religious vocations went subsiding and subsiding to ends unheard…; and, if anything, radical outbreaks emerged as "a despair" to follow the Law of God.

Woe!, woe!, woe!...

The praying sense of now demonstrates to what extent we have usurped our Celestial… presence, origin, development, evolution; to what extent we have maimed the stroll amongst the clouds or over the waters; to what extent the affection has been domesticated, the care, the love… that already has its rules and laws of relationship, age, gender, time, of… control!

And if ... and if the being takes a little look -beneath the praying sense- it will find that…  a species has been achieved that is dedicated to -amongst other things- to the prohibition.

"This is forbidden, this is forbidden… this also, this also…".

And although to pray is not a crime yet, it is –according to the reason, that only believes in its effects- a waste of time, a speculation.

The prayer is the bond of communion of the being… in the universality of the Creation.

It is the silent opinion…

It is the help without prejudice… and flexibility without fractures.


Inevitably, the luck slips through, the thanks, the smiles -increasingly less-, the humour -increasingly less-. Inevitably the unexpected, the coincidences slip through …

And these unavoidable rhythms of incredible and unknown sequences… allow us, at least, to doubt… the empire of the human species!, -at least-; and, through that doubt, to do… to become a dreamer, imaginative, a poet.

At times, in that poem of heavenly rhythms, appear flashes that say: "Everything is yet to be done. What has been done is not ours. It is a predictable deviation, within the unpredictability… of the Creation".

But the fact that the slit of the doubt is there, and is not totally blocked… gives us the hope to crave other airs, other foods, other proposals!!...

And still ...  still is dreamed!, asleep and awake. And still incredible stories are told, perhaps to maintain the disbelief…

But it is clear that the "still" each time is less. Increasingly, the time of science, not only is the daily cause and effect, but also it becomes fiction. And that which was left as a bastion of passion, enthusiasm, beauty… becomes technology, calculation… 

Yes! Already it is known how will be lived in 2030, which customs will be propagated in 2050, what population…

The control!… destroys.

Where, where will it be left…? -will it be left?, will it be left?- where will the warm hiding place of words that interweave be left? Where will the soft haven of the caress be left? Where will the prohibited kiss have to hide? Where will a felt love seek… refuge? In what way a doing, a being of… goodness will have to camouflage itself?

The soul… the soul hides! The spirit… is dissimulated! The words are changed. The gestures and postures are modified. Nothing resembles the Creation! Nothing can be similar to… a sunrise or… a rainbow, or a fountain of water, or a tide, or a sea shore.

In the prayer -which warns us, places us in, references us- we have this "island" which is “still allowed” as… something about to disappear.

And if so, will I only be… work, production, income, prohibition… prize, punishment? Will I only be… anger, violence, competition and consumption?  Will I be only…? “Alone”! Without any vestige! –of course!- of fertile solitude. Will I be only the effect of a cause… by organization needs?

Will I not be able to be a novel, nor prose…? Or even less, a poem. Will I not be able to be…?

Right: "You will not be able to be. You will be what the organization decides".

Woe!... and to where will you migrate? Will you have an escape? When you arrive to another place, how will they receive you? Will you have any option, or you will see everything as the same?

Not even the fleeing… will be possible!

This is the "future… present", which usually we do not want to see. And to the extent that we do not want to see, even more it moves us away from our harmony with Creation.

Will… will the lullabies be prohibited? 

"That is stupidity!".

Will the songs… be abolished? The songs of… the moment! To improvise will be a crime. Already to some extent it is.

No! This is not about painting a bleak picture. No! It is the picture that there is! It is what there is. What happens is that, when it is described, it seems as if… it is exaggerated. But let each one look in its soul, -if you still believe you have one!... and discover its mistreatment, and discover its lies!- and discover its embezzlement!, and discover its envy… and discover its abuses…

It is therefore not a grim picture. It is… "the panorama". Really, it does not arrive to be a panorama. The panorama… should be grand! It is a micro… is a 'micro-rama', to say "something that refuses to have, its references, liberated".

The praying sense reminds us that, out there… out there, in the Universe, is not "out there". We are inside. Each pore of our skin is guarded by a force… of infinite love. You do not need to believe in it! Simply… it is so! It is evident when the being, for a moment, feels the breeze or cloud… or colour!!

The Creation in its Enamoured Mystery does not need, that it is believed in... No! It does not need it. Why? Because she believes, believes-creates- in us.

And if later you want to believe and… not believe… and now yes, and now no!… it has no value.  A thousand manipulations, of vanities and powers.

And we could say: 

“Woe!, woe!... I do not believe in me. I do not think that I am capable; I do not think I can; I do not think that… But I do know that life believes in me. That the Creation believes in me! That they create and recreate me!... And this gives me a huge shame the not… the not being able to express it! To not be able to manifest it!; exercise it!...

Woe, woe!... And I know how far I have come. And I know that, if for a moment they stop to believe in me, I would disappear!...

Nothing they ask of me, and all they give!”

Record this suggestion… it could be useful; of sufficient utility so as that when they call us to pray, we go with prestige, with elegance, with surprise, with an enamoured look…







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