the more life grinds me down, the more am coming to realise that i dont really run the show here. Hardly anything turns out as i desire it to. but the humility is lost when this is 'forgotten'.

what goes around, comes around :-))

Thanks to partha for the technical assistance, now i can upload video's too here :-)

this one's worth a watch even if you dont understand the words. i find it beautiful coz its so innocent..

death

Have you ever heard the language,
two pairs of lips speak with each other?
And not just got lost in that song,
but also listened to its words?

Has your heart ever skipped a beat,
hearing the distant rustle of the wind playing with the leaves?

What the philospher can't sermonize in one book,
and the scientist explain with a unified theory,
or the poet fit into a grand metaphor,

a Child does, with a simple smile of its moist eyes.

The river has to flow, to be able to find the sea.

Call Me by My True Names
Thich Nhat Hanh

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on
the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which,
when spring comes,
arrives in time to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who,
approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda,
all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his
"debt of blood" to my people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring,
so warm it makes flowers bloom in all walks of life.
My pain if like a river of tears,
so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and
laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and
pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.