Good morning to the painters

Goodmorning to the painters. There are some mornings that my mind is completely at ease. It is just able to separate the warm feeling of good night’s sleep and the cool sensation of dawn; the beginning of a new day. These kind of mornings can be the perfect setting for a new idea to be born, new goals to be set, and other ideas to come to an end. They bring answers to all the dreams and spirits of the night and the darkness that it represents.

I am still not positive how my brain operates; how and when does it process any thoughts. It might take days, months, or even a whole lifetime. What I do know though, is that just like the bright stars in the sky, there are answers within me that offer some clarity. These are steady stars compared to the scattered, chaotic or dark thoughts that always exist in my head.

Instead of a “Good morning” or “Is it time to wake up yet?”,

I reflect on the phrase “The passage of each one of us is the imprint of the World.”

For everyone else, this is a morning just like any other morning. For me, it feels like a morning of a huge discovery. Such a tiny phrase can serve as a huge answer to many and maybe thousands of my questions. A huge foundation of my own building, my own life. So simple and clear, crystalizing the stars, as the concrete freezes. And as the truth floods within me, around me, I see light everywhere.

And just like that I clearly saw the truth; everything was bright. A combination of logic and emotions, showed me the way and changed my every daylife. It changed my perception and my judgement.

Goodmorning to the painters. A new, enlightened route emerged.

How can anyone define space, time, someone’s fate? How objective can someone be? How and who is there to prove it? Man, society, past, present and future. Who is there to teach? Who is there to keep track? Who is there to lead? Who is following who?

Things are actually simple. No matter where you come from, what you know and what you apprehend, you eternally paint your own canvas that represents your own life. Even if this canvas might not be a piece of art, it is still your creation. It is only yours. It is permanent. It is eternal. You might think your effort is minimal. However, the outlined and colors of your canvas contribute to the collective composition of the world. Before, now and after.

As such, your painting, my friend, is a piece of an universal canvas; one that is constantly evolving. So simple. This is the fate for each and every one of us in space, and time. The canvas is ours, and we contribute to it every day. You and me, students or rebels, defying the skill of drawing, like little gods, we shape it every day.

This is the painting. You and me are the artists. And everything worthwhile, should be everlasting and should be real and beautiful. We should be real. This painting should be generated from the ink of the heart and designs of the bright corners of our souls. It should represent our real, no matter which, self. Otherwise, it won’t carry a permanent color, it won’t have value, it will be fake and will get lost. It will fade away alone, through the pass of years. The fake paint won’t stay on the canvas.

All the above, as simple as that, were composed one morning. This is now my guide.

I am grateful to God that offers me such mornings.

So, good morning to all the painters.

For all of you, my friends who have not experienced such mornings, the time has come to search the light elsewhere.

The more we feel that there is a need of clarity, the more difficult it seems, and we fail to see the light. The struggle is real. Nights and days pass by, one after the other. Nothing changes. No one changes. Darkness and questions still remain. And they will remain friends, if we don’t search within. Time flies by, my friends, and we are not painting.