December 0.2

No, definitely not a December 2.0, more of a December 0.2 rather.

This xmas is not as festive as it should and I have noticed that the prices of chocolate boxes in the supermarkets are going down week after week, people in no rush at purchasing any. Instead they stare at them as if lost in thoughts or like items completely stranger to them. Aside undertakers business is bad for everyone this year.

I have almost finished decorating my Christmas tree and at night I sit on my own in my living room and talk to it from the corner of my eye as I would to an old friend. Decorating a Christmas tree is a sacred ritual observed in so many households, something warm and special. It yields that feeling of being a child again and enjoying the glitter around. Your fingers accidentally stumble upon the gingerbread man handcrafted in 1999 and all of a sudden you fly back to that spectacular year where you still had hair, -30 pounds and your skin tone glowed like a xmas ball. 

Christmas trees mesmerize me all the time. Sometimes,  when just thrown around the corner of a room with tasteless garlands, they hold me in horror. Last year I was jokingly telling whomever would care listen that I was about to create an association against 'la maltraitance des sapins de noel' after being literally traumatized when my feet graced the reception areas of many offices. Those poor things looked sad, disarmed and vulnerable and my disparaging remarks could unfortunately not save them. 

The week preceding xmas, nothing delights me more than sitting cross-legged on the floor right in front of my tree sipping a glass of red wine and thinking about my people and how I would love spoil-rotting them. I light a candle, watch the drips around the edge of the taper melt and this slowly carries me into a meditative state. It is undoubtedly the best state ever where I see images of my father giving us kids, a fifty rupee note at the doorstep of Prisunic in Curepipe, asking us to get whatever we wanted. I also recall mum coming back from Rose-Hill exhausted with a present for each one of us, something simple and inexpensive. I remember her expression of joy. Even when we became better-off along the years, I can't recall ever buying any costly gift. It was always something meaningful and cute rather than bling-bling or tacky. Even being of hindu origin, the family gathering on Christmas day, just like for catholics, has always been part of our DNA. I even remember how respectfully we all followed the mass on tv one year. 

My brother recently confided in me that he has converted to Catholicism and took baptism a few months ago. At first that took me aback but rather shortly after I felt relieved and understood that he, too, needed to be on a path which would bring him solace and serenity. My nephews Vincent, Christophe and Romain, born catholics have hindu blood running through their veins from their mother’s side. They took janeu when they were kids, meaning that they performed a rite of passage that hindu males usually go through so as to study under a guru and observe hindu values. I live in a family with so many mix and match that at times, it all becomes a bit confusing... Back to Christmas I am sad at how unchristmassy it feels this year with the current context. It kind of leaves me with the thought whether I need to fetch my Charles Dickens and a hot chocolate to make the magic work zing-o again.

Il fait si bon...

Nous ne feignons pas l'anonymat, nous l'assumons et faisons partie de ces quelques individus qui choisissent de vivre sans bousculer l'ordre des choses. Il n'y a pas si longtemps je riais encore de notre 'petite' vie toute simple mais je réalise aujourd'hui que rire avec toi à l'arrêt d'autobus, te débiter mes âneries et te voir t'esclaffer est un luxe que peu de couples peuvent se vanter d'avoir.

Les jeunes savent rarement rire des choses simples et les vieux ne savent plus rire du tout. Toi et moi, nous le faisons de façon spontanée et c'est tellement rafraichissant. Nous savons encore marcher de Curepipe à Floréal en nous arrêtant devant une rivière pour en prendre la photo. Je sais et je saurai toujours te pincer les fesses et toi, tu sais et tu sauras toujours enrouler ton bras autour de mes hanches.

Il fait si bon faire partie de ces gens qui marchent sans grogner, sans critiquer, sans se lamenter, sans dire du mal des autres.

Mais surtout

Il fait si bon t'aimer.

Il fait si bon faire partie de ton existence.

Il fait si bon te sentir au creux de moi.

Il fait si bon laisser la chaleur de ton âme pénétrer mon être.

Tu portes en toi la bonté, la vraie, celle qui ne prend pas l'usure et qui ne devient pas amère au fil des années.

Je porte en moi un grand soleil, le vrai, celui qui réchauffe les coeurs et illumine les voies.

N'est-il pas tout-à-fait naturel que lorsque nous nous rencontrons dans le tumulte de la vie, nous nous sentions  absolument privilégiés et heureux d'être qui nous sommes, nus et libres l'un face à l'autre.?

Que sont tous ces jours de bonheur sinon le décompte du temps qui passe? Ce temps sans retour, ce temps qui nous absorbe et qui extrait de nous le nectar d'une vie bien juteuse.

Il fait si bon savoir cela.

Friendships + Dad

 Of the relationships I have experienced throughout my life, some I thought could be labelled as 'friendships'. More than once I have had discussions - fierce ones - with people of my surrounding about what makes a good friend. 'You need to label them into categories' they kept saying , to which I would argue that this was futile and unnecessary. According to me, as long as you know where you stand with people, you naturally relate to each and every person with a different focus and attention. Well...that was what I thought until I came across the Mangala and Kalyani Mitr sutras which suddenly set things into a contrasting perspective to me.

I think I am starting to get what people mean by 'categorizing' friends, except that it is no simple task. People are flawed. We all are, and as logical as it is to state that one should associate oneself with wise and supportive people, it is a fact that those we love have shady behaviors sometimes. 

Are you willing to bring up awkward topics if you think that will help when you see them go astray? I pondered about that last night and decided to address a delicate issue while talking to my friend Shafeeq. Of all those in my close circle, Shaf, whom I have known for more than 02 decades has turned out to be a real maze lately. He has become the epitome of contradiction and tends to run from one extreme to another not paying enough attention to the consequences of his actions. Should this be pegged as ignorance? selfishness? denial? a lack of consciousness from his part? or a a bit of all four? Caring and supportive when it comes to me, he will show a total lack of interest and can easily be bored with people whom at one point he would have been enthusiastically involved with. This recurrent pattern is intriguing, worrying and weird at the same time.

We should see conditioned things as they are. The same applies for those we love and for the friends we have. People may have been close at heart during our younger years but changed drastically along the way. What can we do if not to let go of any sentimentality about it?

Whatever kind of life we have, friends who are part of it are just a reflection of it and yes, we DO need to know whom to associate with. I have often asked myself how good of a friend I, myself, am or have been and I guess it's a mix of everything;  honest and fake, true and false, sincere and flatterer, generous and taker, supportive and reckless. It is never too late though. There is still room for improvement in this very life (I hope) and it won't hurt aiming at being a better human being.

On another note, my dad would have turned 84 today. He would have accomplished 1008 lunar cycles and fallen into the category of those not to be reborn. 

I wonder whose body his consciousness has flown into and whether our paths have crossed already. I will always remember my father as someone calm, quiet, passionate when it came to his writings and dispassionate when it came to me...lol! Very proud of my sisters and brother, yet never quite knowing what to think about me or how to tackle the queer little thing that I was. Strange enough, I have never been able to be angry at him or even blame him for that simply because he was a good hearted person whom I try to emulate even today. Also, I have to be honest and admit that even I, myself, never knew what to think about me in the 80s/90s. Teenage years are somewhat ‘incongruous’ for bizarre persons like me and I still can't believe how lucky I was to have been safe from bullying, being estranged or marginalized. There was always someone kind around, be it a friend, an acquaintance, a relative or even a stranger who was caring and loving enough to check on me and ensure that I was okay. This, probably, also have to do with the fact that growing up I was rather unconcerned about my own sexuality. My life revolved around various centres of interests (music, sports, theatre, books, environmental issues, family...) but I never really took time to pause and reflect about those tendencies of mine and how they would influence my life. I was simply busy being happy as an individual and this, I think, this has been the greatest blessing of my life, my white karma.

My father cared and attended to his family in every possible way he could. He looked after our upbringing  and ensured that we never lacked anything. He loved my mother dearly and passionately, was a faithful husband and provided us with the best academic education possible. He was what one would call a good husband and father and sometimes it saddens me a bit that I did not quite live up to his expectations. When I was 18-19 he wrote me a letter to tell me that I should reflect seriously about my future. Although I lived under his roof, he would be too shy to have an open conversation with me about it. It might sound weird but I find this cool and loving because I know that the shy person that he was could hardly express his feelings, par pudeur. It was his way of telling me that he couldn't figure how I would be embracing my future but that he cared. In return, I have tried to be the best son I could. I catered and attended to him dutifully in his last years and made sure that he enjoyed the comfort of his loving home when he was going through severe depression during the final stage of his life. Despite all this, deep inside, I have this unspoken feeling that I failed him somehow...for not being intelligent, straight, brave, ambitious enough, for not getting married and having a family of my own. When everyone was 'succeeding' professionally and giving him grand children, I was simply stuck being an average guy with a honest yet futile job. That said, I am not complaining and will definitely not go about revisiting my existence. From an objective point of view, it was, after all, not an unfair assessment for an anxious father. Still, I would have liked to muster enough courage to reassure him  and shouldn't have worried about me because, all in all, I was managing to have a decent and very fulfilling life and that was more than what a father could have wished for his child. 

Words fail...

Words do not seem to find their way towards my doorstep these days. Instead they run away like frightened children who do not turn back. 

                                           Did I fail them? 

                                                              Do they fail me?

                What else is left to do with all this noise in my head and silence in my mouth?

I sit in this noiseless room waiting for the candle by the shrine to burn out and leave me with dark thoughts which shall wrap my shoulders till night is done.

I am afraid of the pressure of this new world where crowded joys can't find a place anymore.

I am afraid of cold nights which do not meet with warm mornings anymore.

I am afraid of not finding words for my memory to play with anymore.

I am afraid of future hurts and offences, blames and wounds.

Will remains of love be enough to save us from the utter loss that awaits us?

What music will it be whose measure the world will find solace in?

Will I ever be able to kiss this world again with my eyes as I have all the mornings of my life?

   

Filling the gap

I feel embarrassed, almost ashamed.

So much has been said about the wreck of MV Wakashio, its oil spill and the ecological disaster that will ensue thereon. I won't add any more comments except that what I feel deep inside is an indescribable sadness and sense of helplessness. I cannot but think that what is happening today is only a dramatic and visual translation of how passive we have been as a nation towards the corrupted mentality of so many of our own people. As my brother-in-law would put it 'nous moriciens, nou ene nation roderr bouttes lakoz sa meme pays la pourri koumsa'. We are all to blame, starting by myself. What I am trying to express may seem a bit far-fetched but I sincerely believe that had we been more disciplined and strict, we would have been able to prevent such a disaster from happening. With the right people in the right places, wouldn't we be in a safer place today?

How do I fill the gap between how I feel and what my duty towards my country is?

 

Cultivons notre différence

Un climat différent s'est installé sur l'ile depuis la fin du confinement. Je ne saurai le décrire précisément mais il s'agit de quelquechose d'un peu pesant qui fait que l'esprit tropical s'est estompé et a laissé place à un sérieux dans lequel nous ne nous reconnaissons pas forcément. Ainsi va le monde, ainsi va notre petite ile. Tout change, tout est impermanence.

J'essaie, tant bien que mal, de garder une ligne directive dans ma vie malgré le contexte. Se réinventer requiert de la patience, du courage et de la détermination et je ne m'attends pas à des résulats rapides. Je suis conscient que ma reconversion professionnelle va être difficile mais j'ai confiance en moi. J'ai toujours eu confiance en moi pour avancer dans la vie et cela m'a beaucoup servi. Peut être ai-je toujours su tenir à distance mon ego pour m'apercevoir  que le 'moi' n'a pas d'existence réelle. J'ai toujours fonctionné de façon à ce que les autres puissent bénéficier de mon savoir faire et de mes compétences avant de penser à ce que j'avais à gagner personnellement. Cela m'a été bien utile toutes ces années. Et honnêtement, le fait que je ne me prenne pas trop au sérieux me délivre d'un quelconque statut. Je n'ai rien à prouver mais tout à donner. Nous ne sommes pas au monde pour rester tels que nous sommes: le  but de l'existence est de changer, d'évoluer, de renoncer à certains conforts pour atteindre plus de plénitude. Je revendique le droit d'être authentique.

Dark Star-Spangled Banner

Nous voilà en Juin.

Aux Etats-(dés)Unis, un homme au regard calme et glacial a enlevé la vie d'un autre homme devant des passants munis de caméras. Cet acte sommetoute banal pour ce policier vient comme pour signifier que certaines vies ont moins d'importance que d'autres et qu'il fallait bien que quelqu'un se charge du sale boulot de le foutre aux yeux au monde.

George Floyd en sortant de chez lui le matin aurait-il pu imaginer qu'il allait pousser son dernier souffle dans des conditions aussi atroces? Le coeur de cet homme s'est arrêté, sa vie lui a été enlevée tout simplement parce que quelqu'un d'autre, portant un uniforme le rendant légitime, en avait soudain décidé ainsi.

De tels actes, il y en a des multitudes au quotidien dans le monde, peut-être même pire, alors pourquoi celui-ci en particulier nous touche-t-il autant? Parce qu'en être témoin nous interpelle soudain? Parce qu'on semble tout à coup prendre conscience de quelle barbarie l'homme est capable? Parce qu'on se dit que cela aurait bien pu être nous? Parce qu'on réalise que pour 'quelques individus' certaines vies sont effectivement moins valables que d'autres? Parce que ces mêmes 'quelques individus' sont, en réalité, bien plus nombreux qu'on n'oserait le penser? Parce que tout est relatif et qu'à bien des égards, nous sommes nous mêmes trop souvent victimes de préjugés et de discriminations?

Ou tout simplement parce qu'on se rend finalement compte que George Floyd...c'est nous.

Faisons nous aujourd'hui le deuil d'un homme ou le deuil de notre regard sur le monde? C'est dans un bruit noir que le chaos s'est installé en Amérique et c'est dans un silence blanc qu'il prendra fin. Il en a toujours été ainsi et il en sera toujours de même tant que le pouvoir et l'amertume seront à portée de coeur.

The aftermath

We have finally reached the end of confinement. It took us 72 days to get there. It comes as a relief for most of us and for many a time to celebrate reconnect with dear ones. For some, however, it is also the start of a journey of anguish and uncertainties.

The sun does shine beautifully on this mother's day but I can't help feeling that there is a grim side taunting us as well. It just feels odd to be back to 'normal' since normality is being redefined on a daily basis now; one bringing in its sway economic difficulties coupled with emotional strain and blurriness. It is as if, all of a sudden, we have come to realize that the winding road to re-energize our souls seems longer and narrower than we had initially thought. 

We have survived lockdown and at the same time left a few feathers on the battlefield. 10 persons have died, many families left with scars and we very well know that all that a war can achieve can never be enough to replace all the losses it involves. Having been able to succeed in containing the spread of the virus does not make of us champions. It certainly makes us better off as compared to the rest of the planet and provides us with greater chances and opportunities to start afresh. Yet, the question remains: On an individual basis, will we choose to live a simple life or a hedonistic one thereon? Where does our sustainable future lie?

I had enough leisurely time to write on my blog and post on instagram these past 2 months. I did not feel like doing it though parce que le coeur n'y était pas. Instead, I did buddhist prayers, intense meditations and practices on a daily basis. I feel I have progressed a lot in this field. I have discovered that our mind has the ability to continually change its structure and function in response to new training experiences. A fulfilled life is not made of an uninterrupted succession of pleasant sensations but really comes from the way that we understand and work through the challenges of our existence.

One day I read the Arya Sanghata Sutra at one go and felt a profound change occuring in me. It gently led me to the understanding of how important it is to know how to relate to our surrounding while peeling our pure intellect and applying its different functions. Such a quiet and gentle eye-opener. I have been making strange dreams since then.

I also showed a lot of interest in the family tree, went looking for old pictures in all the drawers of the house, asked innumerable questions to my mum and went through the stories written by my dad in his letters, diaries and books. Skeletons were brought out of the closet and shameful anecdotes told to me in a whispering voice. It was as if I had a large piece of canvas on which I was trying to rebuild a puzzle. All in all, it shed a light on the dim corners of our existence and made it clear to me that I cannot shut down the memory of the past. What is important is to free myself from the involvement I can have with the shady sides of this past...

I am bringing Antish for a long drive today. I want to show him places which have very recently started holding a special place in my heart, the place where my father grew up. Who knows what kind of surprise will await us there?

Roti, Kapda aur Makaan

Confinement - Day 44 : ✔

Ask me how it is going and I'll tell ya 'pretty good' given the present circumstances. I have food, I have shelter, I have clothes...roti, kapda aur makaan as Manoj Kumar would put it. Yet finding mid-term security and stability seems to be compromised as I am to become jobless in a few days. Should that be a subject of worry? not necessarily. Of concern maybe, one which does not involve unnecessary stress or strain. After all, what have I learned from life all these years if not to expect the unexpected?

I have a few projects running through my mind and that's already a positive start. By now we are all aware that the whole world is going to change post covid-19 and if one does not get into the starting blocks right away, chances are that many of us may lose our bearings and end up into a chaotic race for survival. To see conditioned things as they are, accept that change is inevitable and consider that it could be an opportunity to discover oneself through unleashing a hidden potential shouldn't be that scary unless leaving that comfort zone would seem too painful.

During my short passage at Rogers, I would often hear the managers talk about agility during the work sessions. An adjective which formed part of the new motto of the company after its re-branding. More than ever I think that could be of good use. To handle the coming situation with deftness is all I need to keep me afloat and though I am very much aware that I will be vulnerable, that financial risks will have to be taken at some point, how will I ever know if I don't go at it? Everything is changing. Only those who have a set of eyes  capable of seeing beyond conventions, beyond defined biases, beyond status will understand the bigger message.

This time last year, we were getting prepared to fly to Rodrigues and life never seemed happier. This year, countless deaths around the globe, economic crisis and no job. Despite this terrible situation I have the love of my family, the encouragement of friends and the indefectible support of my love, one which keeps the flame in me burning and gives me enough inspiration, courage and confidence to stand up to my upcoming responsibilities and to integrate this new self of mine into my whole being.

Days of bitter rice

Oh dear! The first week may have been all about practice and prayers but the second week has been much tougher and has cruelly brought to light my flaws; procrastination and laziness. This third week is a bit so-so. A persistent rumor talks about the confinement being extended until end of April, confirmation of which we will get following the Prime Minister's intervention on tv this afternoon. This is going to be tricky and challenging but can we really complain when this pandemic is bringing so much distraught and suffering in its sway? Pèze néné boire diluile ek attane trankil, ki pou fer?

Yesterday marked the 11th anniversary date of my dad's funeral, so we were all a bit sad and melancholic. I read one of the stories where he wrote about my great grand mother (dadee) who used to live with us when I was a kid. I have vivid souvenirs of her. She was almost 100 years old when she left us and despite being illiterate throughout her life, she had an uncommonly sharp memory.  As the eldest of a family of seven she took responsibility of looking after her siblings at the young age of seven, following her mother's demise. All her teenage years were spent as a field labourer. She recalled waking up at 2am and walk three hours every morning to reach the sugar estate in Flacq and do the same in the afternoon.Below is an extract of my dad transcripting this story as it was told to him.

Dadee

These are but a few lines about the story of my great grand mother.

Now tell me,wouldn't it be out of utter disrespect if I were to lament about my present condition today?

Dedication Prayers

The following is an excerpt from my Kopan Prayer Book. It is my contribution to the peace and happiness of all the sentient beings in this world:

May all beings everywhere

Plagued by sufferings of body and mind

Obtain an ocean of happiness and joy

By virtue of my merits

May no living creature suffer,

Commit evil, or ever fall ill

May no one be afraid or belittled,

With a mind weighed down  depression

May the blind see forms

And the deaf hear sounds

May those who bodies are worn with toil

Be restored on finding repose

May the naked find clothing,

The hungry find food;

May the thirsty find water

And delicious drinks

May the poor find wealth,

Those weak with sorrow find joy;

May the forlorn find hope,

Constant happiness and prosperity

May there be timely rains

And bountiful harvests

May all medicines be effective

And wholesome prayers bear fruit

May all who are sick and ill

Quickly be freed from their ailments

Whatever diseases there are in the world,

May they never occur again

May the frightened cease to be afraid

And those bound be freed

May the powerless find power,

And may people think of benefiting each other

For as long as space remains,

For as long as sentient beings remain,

Until then may I too remain

To dispel the miseries of the world

Confinement - Day 1

Every talk/chat/conversation revolves around the virus all day long but did anyone notice how beautiful the weather was today?

I did prostrations, brought my sister to the doctor, cooked, ate healthily, cleaned the kitchen, did some ironing, talked to the plants in the garden, read, wrote a love letter the old school way. I comforted Mike and made him laugh . The doctor diagnosed him positive to covid-19, poor thing...
I also watched a nice movie and will now go do some medecine buddha mantras before chatting with my better half  which, by the way, is my favorite moment of the day.

Day 1: ✔

Learning to become

A month has elapsed since my last post and boy has it been an intense one.

Days of Miracles started just after Mahashivratri and this year I asked Antish if he wished to enrol for the 15 evening sessions of meditation and teachings. I was glad he said yes because I was already confident about the beautiful experience awaiting us. Attending class everyday from 7.30pm to 9pm was undoubtedly enriching and made us realize the preciousness of the 9 teachings we received, more specifically the topic covering the 6 perfections. I have to admit that some were harder to absorb than others, especially when Vimla talked about the 4 absorptions (dhyanas) and the practice of right concentration. She reminded us of the power of stillness and insight. Sustaining one-pointed attention is actually a practice for learning how to let go and it is, I believe, the most difficult phase to reach if one wants to understand oneness.

I feel I have cleared out a few obscurations with regards to some aspects of my life and practice goes on on a daily basis. It's been almost two years now since I started doing water bowls and recitation of auspicious prayers every morning. This exercise has literally changed my life.

I get it that people around me may think that I do not pay enough attention to all the problems in the world but it is not true. The coronavirus, the melting glaciers, environmental issues are all subjects of true concern to me and the fact that I do not elaborate on them all day long is purely because there are certain emotions that I need to keep under wraps when those themes are evoked. Spirituality is a guideline that I have set to myself to keep me on the middle path. Understanding that I form part of a whole makes me want to practice even more. I live in a country where identity politics matter more than preserving and sharing societal values. The attitude of leaders is even frightening when one realizes that flawing the Mauritian identity just so to acquire more power is common practice here and we, mauritian citizens, are often referred to, rightfully so, as passive. We all do our 'little' rebellion on an individual basis as we deem good but there is no will for a synergy and common actions.

I strive to keep my balance in a country full of inequalities where I, myself, happen to be among the happy few to be spared by those same inequalities. I live in a world bending towards nepotism, chaos while being among the lucky ones preserved from such mess. Realizing how blessed I am does not deter me from helping with my own means the less fortunate ones who aim for a better future. Still, it is a very complicated task, one that can easily be misinterpreted as condescension. According to the Buddha, the ideal conditions of giving are to give a pure gift with pure intentions to a pure recipient. One should not give up though. It requires humility to discuss views we don't share, generosity to practice giving and wisdom to fight against greed.

This post is dedicated to:

My spiritual teacher the Buddha
My teacher who channels towards my ears and mind the wisdom of the sutras
The supreme assembly which shows me things as they are

20.02.2020

I figured it would be interesting to post something on my blog today, 20-02-20.

but what? this, maybe

A perfect representation of my life these days; old, vintage, black & white, past/present, shades, colors, vibrancy, vibes, mysticism, union, two souls, profound respect, contemplation

Watching over me

This heart of mine

The more absurd the world seems to appear these days, the more delightful our relationship is turning to be.

That little god, he makes my heart smile all the time.

When I drop him at night and drive all the way home, my feet dance, my fingers do the hand-jive to imaginary music and I start humming too. The scenery disappears in the night and from my inner being emanates an almost palpable feeling that my life belongs here to this country and to this being. The true meaning of home lies in our true identity and it's been long since I found mine. His presence in my life however has brought me the coziness of a shelter I had been longing for. My thoughts don't race anymore, they go at a steady pace as I resolve to a life that has become a process which cannot be hurried, one which involves nurturing and caring for someone in the most delicate manner.

I used to go to bed fantasizing about the different destinations I had yet to discover. There was a scent each one had, a flavor, a vibrancy, something which would drive my senses to ecstasy. Now, I can't imagine going to these places without him by my side. It would simply feel an incomplete experience not seeing that surprised look on his face as he watches the world unfold its secrets to him.

I think it is a perilous adventure to locate oneself in this world but in good company, fear becomes an abstract feeling, something which does not matter that much.

Until now, I had always taken pride in leading a simple yet fulfilling life. Never had I imagined how deep and meaningful it also could be...

This heart of mine was made to travel the world with you

La balade sur le rebord du monde du vendredi dix janvier de l'an de grâce 2020

Let's kickstart this bloody year

Mon année 2020, je la voudrais calme et sereine.

Entre vouloir et avoir viendra très certainement s'installer tout un monde infernal fait de ces petites sensations du quotidien où l'on s'enferme sans le savoir. Nous attendons de ces sensations qu'elles nourissent notre sentiment de vivre, qu'elles émaillent notre monde telles des bouffées d'air frais dans un environnement étouffant et cynique. Nous aimerions y entendre une voix ordonnée et calme qui nous guiderait dans la nuit.

Mon entrée en matière dans la nouvelle décennie n'a pas été très reluisante jusqu'ici. D'abord il y a eu la santé vascillante de maman qui a instillé en moi une grande angoisse suivi par un jour d'anniversaire un peu loupé avec Antish auquel est venu s'ajouter mon inquiétude face à une situation quasi-intolérable sur mon lieu de travail. Je sais pertinemment que personne ne viendra me tendre une perche pour me sortir de ce trou et qu'il va falloir que j'aille chercher au fond de moi la paix intérieure qui me fera y voir plus clair. Encore heureux que la seule chose que je sache plus ou moins faire c'est être moi-même et utiliser mon bon sens. 

Je ne compte franchement pas laisser les petites morts du quotidien - sentiments, émotions, pulsions, solitudes et autres - m'abasourdir, je compte tout au contraire les utiliser pour me propulser vers l'avant. 

Retrousse toi les manches cher Ashwan et va donc extraire de 2020 le meilleur en t'engageant à rester fidèle à tes valeurs.