Letters to a friend 29.07.2011

Hi V***,

(...)

I actually still wanted to add something to what you had written in you last email.
You said you believe that souls are made for one purpose, following the hindu belief in karma.

This is the point where my thoughts diverge from yours.
My reflection is that humans are free. A great great freedom. A scary freedom. Immensity, abyssal immensity is scary. So men needed to give themselves structures. They needed to frame their world in order to live with others (civil code, moral code) but also to relieve themselves of the pain of freedom. It is a relaxing thought that anything that you do does not depend on you completely: it depends on a God who has chosen it for you (monotheistic religions like christianity) or it could depend on something which you did in your past life (but here I see a paradox: since your actions always depend from something else you did they are controlled from outside and never really from inside no?).

I don't believe in any kind of life after death, nor than anything is happening. Why should it? we die, return to earth. That's it. Our life is here. Not before, not after, not outside. And I could experience death from close. I never visited the graveyard of my fiancé after his death. For what? watching a stone? I definitely don't need this to pay respect to his memory. I also don't believe he is anywhere else than in the hearts and thoughts of people who have known him. You die really when you are forgotten. Aas long as people can carry your memory and pass it on, you stay alive. That your heart is beating or not is not essential. I learnt this in the many hours where I was alone at home mourning his absence. Oh yes I have been alone, lonely, felt left apart and aside. But I understood that this is the way it goes. You lose something, you earn something. His death gifted me freedom, and also eternal/spiritual love. I was also gifted death and suffering, so I can understand better the deaths and sufferings of others.

And beefore I finish and although I would still have 100 things to write, (I feel it but these thoughts are blurred right now): I never despised religions and religiosity. We have the freedom to choose and to shape our world the way we want. There is nothing wrong in having a belief, embracing a religion or specific rituals. Everyone can choose. Everyone should choose. Everyone also HAS to choose. Our freedom is also a prison. Because it is too big and too scary.

Letters to a friend 27.07.2011

Hi V***

I don't feel ready to share thoughts in the manner of Khalil Gibran. I need to experience more in life before that.
One chapter however I could totally identify with with "Talking" :)

When I opened "So spake Zarathustra" randomly yesterday, I found this :

MY BROTHER, when thou hast a virtue, and it is thine own virtue, thou hast it in common with no one. To be sure, thou wouldst call it by name and caress it; thou wouldst pull its ears and amuse thyself with it. And lo! Then hast thou its name in common with the people, and hast become one of the people and the herd with thy virtue! Better for thee to say: "Ineffable is it, and nameless, that which is pain and sweetness to my soul, and also the hunger of my bowels." Let thy virtue be too high for the familiarity of names, and if thou must speak of it, be not ashamed to stammer about it.

You wrote it could be a blessing to see the world in black and white. I don't believe this. The world is grey. Men have created black and white, good and evil to find bearings in their world and all of their good, all of their evil is cultural and also helps them to differentiate themselves from other men ("we do/eat/think this, the others don't so we are better" is the common equation).
So mankind is still used t to seeing everything in terms of good ad evils, because it is so comfortable.
But nothing in the world is naturally good or evil, naturally black or white. The things just are. Passive. We need to go beyond this good and evil and acknowledge again the shades of grey in the world.
Probably this is gonna make us suffer, because suddenly nothing is easy, and safe any longer. But who wants a life in safety? I don't. Just as I don't want to find peace withing myself. Peace is death or, if you're alive, it is lethargy. Where nothing happens any longer and all movement has ceased.
For me I want movement, doubt and pain because there I feel alive, know something is happening. Every answer I received is questionned for what I search are questions, not answer, not certainties.
I am thankful for this chaotic inner world I don't understand myself. What I try to do is not regulate it but simply acknowledge it. Only if I don't torture it to an answer will it show under some shape, at the right moment. And then disappear again.

I feel like a kind of vase. The outside is what you see, but the inner, the empty side of the vase is what is important. The vase is ready, not expecting. You can fill it with water, or put a flower in it and it's role is different. People see the flower, but the flower is shown only thanks to the emptiness of the vase. So this is what I strive to be. A vase.
And after my death, I would like to be this place in high grasses, where the grass is smashed against the earth because someone before you has been lying here. Just an anonymous shape of smashed grass, in which someone new can come and lie down.

Letters to a friend 26.07.2011

Dear V***,

yes my soul is wordless, an undescribable chaos where nothing and everything exist next to each other : silence and noise, movement and stillness and so much more.
There was a time where, thanks to my studies, my tongue was trained to express something through words. But the further my dance journey was going, the more the words would leave me, making me enter in a new depth of myself, a new depth of my communication and also a new depth of my soul.
Also this journey, leading me to countries of which I don't understand, let alone speak the languages, sentences me to silence, pushing me a bit deeper in my own chaos and my own noisy silence.

However, there are so many times I would like to shape my thoughts again into words, so that others can understand. I wish I could express myself easily and fluidly, creating clarity for others and for myself. But I can't any longer. Words have escaped.

I know the Prophet, never read it though. I would be happy to receive it from you.

Letters to a friend 25.07.2011

Hi!

One text I wanted to share with you:

Full of clattering buffoons is the market-place, and the

people glory in their great men! These are for them the masters

of the hour.

But the hour presseth them; so they press thee. And also

from thee they want Yea or Nay. Alas! thou wouldst set thy

chair betwixt For and Against?

On account of those absolute and impatient ones, be not

jealous, thou lover of truth! Never yet did truth cling to the

arm of an absolute one.

On account of those abrupt ones, return into thy security:

only in the market-place is one assailed by Yea? or Nay?

Slow is the experience of all deep fountains : long have they

to wait until they know what hath fallen into their depths.

Away from the market-place and from fame taketh place all

that is great: away from the market-place and from fame have

ever dwelt the devisers of new values.

from Thus spake Zarathustra, Nietzsche

-Malheureusement, il me faut admettre que je n'ai pas encore passé le stade du manque d'affection et de reconnaissance.
Est-ce qu'on le passe un jour?

-Le mutisme forcé auxquel m'expose la non-connaissance des langues et des cultures est tjs difficile. J'ai du mal à me laisser tomber plus profond. On essaie tjs de se raccrocher aux parois alors qu'il faudrait juste tomber. Ma danse qui elle aussi est muette n'en serait probablement que plus puissante.
Mais ca viendra. Pour ca j'ai confiance.

-le mutisme me rapproche des animaux.