"Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice"
- Steve Jobs
I did not speak to the lady in the adjacent seat to me on the plane to Portugal, but she would have a profound affect on me.
She had quietly moved into the seat. With effortless elegance and poise she had moved. It was as if she had almost floated into her seat.
Here she sat, next to me. Her hands neatly folded in her lap. She closed her eyes.
If Calm and Serenity had a human face, it was here, beside me; captivating and holding a moment in time.
Around her was noise. Within her was silence.
How I longed to hear that silence too.
Like an old lost friend I once knew so well is silence.
Silence lying deep deep in the realms underneath shrouded in that inner peace, I once held within.
The silence I fear to enter now, for the outstretched hand with a knife of Trust, which cuts and cuts my silence.
Steering and Advising the sacred silence to never be. To never be free.
I breathed so deep, in desperation, to search the silence. Yet the silence never appeared
"Breathe Rubi, breathe!" I told myself. "You have every right to be here. You have every right to exist"
It would be a long time, before I would have the courage to open my eyes.
"You have no idea, what it does" I wanted to say to the voice
- Steve Jobs
I did not speak to the lady in the adjacent seat to me on the plane to Portugal, but she would have a profound affect on me.
She had quietly moved into the seat. With effortless elegance and poise she had moved. It was as if she had almost floated into her seat.
Here she sat, next to me. Her hands neatly folded in her lap. She closed her eyes.
If Calm and Serenity had a human face, it was here, beside me; captivating and holding a moment in time.
Around her was noise. Within her was silence.
How I longed to hear that silence too.
Like an old lost friend I once knew so well is silence.
Silence lying deep deep in the realms underneath shrouded in that inner peace, I once held within.
The silence I fear to enter now, for the outstretched hand with a knife of Trust, which cuts and cuts my silence.
Steering and Advising the sacred silence to never be. To never be free.
I breathed so deep, in desperation, to search the silence. Yet the silence never appeared
"Breathe Rubi, breathe!" I told myself. "You have every right to be here. You have every right to exist"
It would be a long time, before I would have the courage to open my eyes.
"You have no idea, what it does" I wanted to say to the voice
i. Burial of the Dead
April is the cruellest month, breeding
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire,”
Memory and desire,”
The Wasteland
T.S. Eliot
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