Living unloved is like clipping a bird's wings and removing its ability to fly. Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly and if it's left unresolved for very long, you can almost forget that you were created to fly in the first place.
William Paul YoungKokią teisę jis turi ką nors teisti? Žinoma, kažkiek jis iš tikrųjų yra kaltas, kad teisė beveik visus, kuriuos sutikdavo, ir daug tų, kurių nė nebuvo matęs. Makas žinojo, kad didžiausia jo kaltė - jo egocentrizmas. Tad kaip jis gali teisti kitą? Visi jo vertinimai - paviršutiniški, paremti išvaizda ir elgesiu, kuriuos galima aiškinti taip, kad pasijustum pranašesnis, saugesnis arba kokios nors grupės dalis. Jam taip pat buvo aišku, kad jis bijo.
William Paul YoungMots clés inspirational-attitude
Neįmanoma imti ir pradėti pasitikėti, kaip neįmanoma suvaidinti nusižeminimo. Arba tai yra, arba nėra. Pasitikėjimas gimsta santykyje, kai žinai, jog esi mylimas. Kadangi nežinai, ar aš tave myliu, tu negali manimi pasitikėti.
William Paul YoungMots clés inspirational-love
Because you continue to inhabit and
believe your metaphors, you cannot see what is true.
This, Tony, is a living land, not a construction site. This is
real and breathing, not a fabrication that can be bullied into
being. When you choose technique over relationship and
process, when you try and shortcut the speed of growing
awareness and force understanding and maturity before its time,
this”—he pointed down and over the length
Transformation
without work and pain, without suffering, without a sense of loss
is just an illusion of true change.
Somehow the pain, the losses, the hurt, the bad, God
is able to transform these into something they could have never
been, icons and monuments of grace and love. It is the deep
mystery how wounds and scars can become precious, or a
ravaging and terrifying cross the essential symbol of relentless
affection.”
“Is it worth it?” whispered Tony.
“Wrong question, son. There is no ‘it.’ The question is and
has always been, ‘Are you worth it?’ and the answer is and
always, ‘Yes!’
You want to know why I live here, in this ‘hovel’; I think that
is the word you used, based on your civilized and educated
perception?”
There was no use denying it. “Yes, I was wondering. So
why?”
“It was the best you could give me.” She didn’t turn from her
work.
“Excuse me? The best ‘I’ could give you? I had nothing to do
with this. I could build you something much better, but not this.
How could you think…?”
“It’s all right, Anthony! I have no expectations. I am grateful to
have found even this small place in your heart. I travel light”—
she smiled as if at some secret thought—“and I make my home
inside the simplest gifts. There is nothing to feel bad or ashamed
about. I am thoroughly grateful, and being here is a joy!”
“So… because this is me, my world somehow, I have only
made this small place for you?
You heard and felt the harmonies of light, at least
the surface of them, but you didn’t notice, did you, that the
melody was missing?”
It was true, Tony had not heard a melody, just a symphony of
harmonies.
“I don’t understand. What’s the missing melody?” he asked.
“You, Anthony! You are the melody! You are the reason for
the existence of what you witnessed and consider so
immeasurably awe inspiring. Without you, what you perceived
would have no meaning and no shape. Without you, it would
have simply… fallen apart.
Tony stood up and began pacing the room. “Jack,” he
confessed, “my life that I defined as a success is actually a total
shambles, and yet you’re suggesting that underneath it all, there
is an unimaginable beauty? Are you telling me that I matter?
That even though I am this ugly, ordinary-looking root, that I was
designed and intended to express a unique and extraordinary
flower? That’s what you are telling me… right?”
Jack nodded, again removing his pipe for a puff.
“And I assume,” Tony continued, “this is true about every
human being, each person born—”
“Conceived!” interrupted Jack.
“Each person ‘conceived’ on the planet, each one living in
life-before, each one is a root in which a flower is waiting?
Right?”
Again Jack nodded
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