Personal Meyland

Your thoughts matter This year has been a revelation for me, as I have explained in my last posts. And it might sound like saying it again but the simple idea that comes with it is: the power of listening to our thoughts. You see, I had to stop doing what I was doing (again, this week is the second time) to come here and let you know the thoughts flying around in my head before they disappeared. Like assisting a speaker’s lecture in which you are suddenly afraid of missing out some kind of wisdom: it might either come soon or is happening at the right moment that you focused on something else. It is not a fairytale These ideas I said in my last post might sound easier to say than to do, even draconian to you, I get it. I even think the same when I say them now while years back I was struggling in a black hole sobbing in tears and not knowing what to do. I did believe then I was making the same mistakes all over again. And for that I was being hard on myself, just like other people woul...

To create is an act of rebelion Because it’s an act of self-love at the same time. You end by being content with what you make, Instead of believing you’ll be happy by the things you own. Creation reveals the true values of Nature Because we are becoming creators as well intead of consumers. We are starting to think of our own, And realize that there is something else of what is told: That non-visible magic that starts to appear if we listen carefully. So don’t be afraid of listening to your voice, Do not be afraid of being with yourself, even in silence. Surrender to the unknown to discover that there’s nothing to be afraid of.   It’s just that part of you that was waiting for you to pay attention. It could be that child that has been whispering to you in the night, While you preferred to sleep and let the idea go. Because they rarely go back, just the more insistent ones. So focus and listen. Be ready for their arrival and take notes next time. ...

 Las capas que nos añadimos de la que necesitamos liberarnos, como una serpiente mudando piel, transformándose. Esa piel muerta que pueden ser nuestros miedos y pensamientos preconcebidos no deja de ser más que gramos de peso que se acumula en nuestra espalda y subsconciente. Capas grises de mugre que nos invaden y de la que tenemos que purgarnos. El ruido a veces no nos deja ver quien somos realmente, o donde está el camino que debemos intuir. Al desconectarnos tantas veces de la naturaleza y nuestro instinto, llega un momento que esa vocecita se va apagando... hasta que paramos a escuchar con detenimiento. Frenamos en seco nuestra vida acelerada y escuchamos con atención. No paramos por miedo, no paramos para encontrar otra distracción, sino para tomar impulso sabiendo que nuestra conciencia está siendo guiada por nuestro instinto. A veces el camino más corto no es el que nos lleva más rápido a la meta. Y de todas formas, ¿por qué es tan importante el final? Todo hecho para un re...

  Even in the most uncertain setting I look at you like a new breeze: Dreamy eyes and gentle smile, Writing over certainties of your day.   And I can’t help but look away of shyness Getting back to my matters While your breathing becomes my background sound And your singing my distant memory.   I don’t want to fall in love. It brought too much pain that I can hardly move anymore. I believed that I was done.   And another day came to shine, Another reading while time passed. Gentle talk and smiles as precious breaks Of two broken hearts that came to confine In a small comfy corner of new rise.   Yes, we rose in a smoke of fear and wonder, And yet we trembled words of self-sufficient beings At a time that we really thought of wishing for hope, In a moment that we daydreamed for more.     And we looked for new sensations Covering even parts of our day that were out of plan, Living in a vast stormy ...

  1 st Phase of a personal lockdown Self-locked   Denial brought my world into a still state Blocking feelings, into fantasy immerse. Nice escape for a scared human being But the blanket won’t fight the ghosts again.   Closing eyes to an open heart fully aware Of mumbling steps on tiptoes towards the unknown Where have the path gone? Breathe and dream that reality becomes fair.   For a time and a place no longer valid. For a state of mind that squirm itself.   Can dreams lift a heavy heart? Maybe visuals can show me a turn Where I do not fear the invisible Where reality is a fake illusion made.   So close your eyes and go inwards Hold my hand and embrace me I will whisper t’ you: “hope”, “calm” Even if tears follow the warmth.   I feel that I fell much better Down a rabbit hole much more Comfy, reversed, sound. Where the tree’s tears can hug me. I have lost all good sense, Or the bad just l...

 She woke up another day having taken another sip of affection into her dreams Those eyes that told her more deeply than words could explain That hug in search of a momentary sanctuary to hold onto against the fears Even if love was not part of the plan their moments transcended and remained.   Connections are sometimes matter of a moment that last forever Becoming another layer of a hidden personality open up for an instant And she treasures in her mind every single pearl she got out that Would it be that difficult to put into words? That energy exchange will be part of her forever It is almost never something meaningless.   That reflection of affection is what could drain her every day Exchanges of energies that were in need of truth Why it is so difficult to be vulnerable, to be real?   And a lonely soul, broken just in part, came to hang A deep light of reality turned into dreams No need to close the eyes looking for wonders ...

Looking back at a black shadow That internally tried to melt, Passing unnoticed to most people, And when seen she would avoid problem Giving herself completely to other selves.   What is left of that grey soul long ago under sheet? Reborn happened from cracks and shouts, Crying for a different self, different life, Opening the eyes to a new welcome.   If selfish vision to internal need isn’t valued, A quick look back will turn her into thoughts, A storm of regretful voices will try to turn her down. A new day comes and with it another old layer gone.   What is left of a shut mouth and frightened mind? Wings in her brain along with her hands Creating a way to fight back and fighting a way out. Not a hide under the sheets of fantasy anymore, Nor a need for negation of herself of her wanting.   The fight will last shorter and direct her to the north, Always finding more paths towards her discovery: That land of virtues and...

Es fácil controlar cuando hacer a esa persona sentir pequeña. Puedes moldear sus pensamientos cuando le planteas que todo a su alrededor es peligroso. Y si no sabe tanto como quisiera y se siente impotente, usarás ese vacío para mantenerla a raya. Nunca será suficiente, sin importar lo mucho que se esfuerce. Es curioso como tanta gente (padres) pueden reflejar su falta de autoestima sobre otras personas más débiles, sintiéndose así líderes de títeres a su merced, ampliando su ego. Hoy miro a cómo el arte me ayudo a expresar lo que no me atrevía a decir en voz alta. Aún recuerdo tantos modos de expresar control y miedo a salir de esa zona de confort. Hasta que lo hice. Me escapé de ese maltrato psicológico. Pero ahora ese mensaje se queda en cierta parte en mí, dándome miedo a cada reto que se presenta. Encendiendo la llama del pánico cada vez que algo está fuera de lo usual o algo se avecina que es desconocido. Porque me han enseñado que el mundo es un lugar peligroso y q...