Pot mojih stvaritev 5/6–Živa zakopana // The Path of My Creations 5/6-Buried Alive

Utrujena sem, docela izmozgana od samo-dokazovanja, da lahko pariram Življenju. Izgubila sem moč in sijaj, zdravje in lepoto, modrost in ponižnost. Ne najdem jih več ne v sebi, ne zunaj sebe. A nekje v meni še skrivnostno brbota spomin na tistega duha, ki me je vodil in varoval, preden sem ga zatajila. Ne da mi miru, hoče se spet izživeti, hoče spet ugledati luč sveta, preden izginem z Zemlje. A kako naj ga zaživim? Ničesar nimam, na kar bi se lahko oprla. Imam le hrepenenje… .

Padem na kolena, sprevidim svojo zmoto, jočem za gozdovi, ki jih več ni, jočem za bujnostjo zemlje, ki sem jo iztrebila in zadušila s rečmi, ki ne dihajo. Hotela bi vse to popraviti, pa se vsak moj gib konča pri istem kot se je začel… sama od sebe lahko ‘ustvarjam’ le na umorjenem življenju. Zemljo sem tako osiromašila, da mi ne nudi več pogojev lahkotnega bivanja. Da preživim, se moram posluževati ta-istega sistema, ki je umoril mene in okolje.


Foto Rainforest Alliance

Sprevidim težo svojega položaja in se končno zaustavim. V čisti zgroženosti neham brcati, da bi karkoli naredila ali popravila. Obraz naslonim ob drevesne korenine in začutim jok vseh dreves, ki so padla pod mojo roko. Privijem se k zemlji in zaslišim njene smrtne krče. Vidim otroke, ki nadgrajujejo mojo neumnost. Vidim brezbrižnost sistema, ki se je zajedel v vsako mojo celico in mi narekuje vsak gib. Vidim neustavljivo lakoto, ki nima moči, da bi se sama zaustavila. Kaj mi je storiti?

Zagrabi me vesoljna žalost, brezmejen sram pred samo seboj in pred Življenjem. Prepoznam se v vsakem obrazu in v vsakem dejanju človeka. Vidim se v otroku, ki vse dni gleda v ekran in se utaplja v labirintih moje racionalnosti. Vidim se v ženski, ki me je izdala zaradi pohlepa, ki sem ga izumila. Vidim se v moškem, ki me je zlorabil zaradi pohote, ki sem ji prva dala krila. Kamor se ozrem, vidim sebe in svojo neskončno zablodo.


Zatečem se v ostanek gozda in vanj izjočem svoj gnev, da mi telo ovije krč neukrepanja. Živa se zakopljem v grob lastnega napuha, ki mu nočem več služiti. Skrušena priznam, da ne vem, kako se Življenju streže. Raje umrem, kot samo še en gib naredim iz moje ‘bistroumnosti’. Priznam, da ne vem, kako naj Živim. Tako zakopana v lastno nemoč se spomnim prvih dni, v katerem nisem poznala truda, da sem imela vse obilje Življenja.

Okrepljena s pra-spoznanjem trdno zaprisežem molku, ki me varuje pred aroganco pameti in budno prisluškujem vsakemu ukazu Življenja, ki me edini zmore potegniti iz zanke samouničenja. (Iz vsebine ŠK Zgodba in pesem gozda)

Zaključek: Pot mojih stvaritev 6 – Molitev novorojene // Conclusion: The Path of My Creations 6 – The Prayer of a Newborn


The Path of My Creations 5/6 – Buried Alive


I am tired, completely exhausted from self-proving that I can match Life. I lost strength and radiance, health and beauty, wisdom and humility. I can no longer find them either in myself or outside of myself. But somewhere in me the memory of that spirit that guided and protected me is still mysteriously bubbling. It does not give me peace, it wants to live again, it wants to see the light of the world again before I disappear from the Earth. And how should I bring it to life? I have nothing to rely on. I only have a longing… .

I fall to my knees, I realize my mistake, I cry for the forests that are no more, I cry for the lushness of the land that I have exterminated and suffocated with things that do not breathe. I cry for the health and beauty I have turned my back on. I would like to fix all this, but my every move ends the same way it started… I can only ‘create’ on a previously murdered life. I have made life on earth so impoverished that it no longer offers me the conditions for an easy stay. To survive, I have to use the same system that killed me and the environment.


Foto Rainforest Alliance

I realize the weight of my position and finally stop. In pure horror, I stop kicking to do or fix anything. I lean my face against the tree roots and feel the cries of all the trees that have fallen under my arm. I cling to the ground and hear the Earth’s death cramps. I see kids upgrading my stupidity. I see the indifference of the system that has infiltrated my every cell and dictates my every move. I see an unstoppable hunger that has no power to stop itself. What can I do?

I am seized by universal sorrow, boundless shame before myself and before Life. I recognize myself in every face and in every action of a man. I see myself in a child staring at the screen all day and drowning in the labyrinths of my rationality. I see myself in a woman who betrayed me because of the greed I invented. I see myself in a man who abused me because of the lust I first gave wings to. Everywhere I look, I see myself and my infinite delusion.


I take refuge in the rest of the forest and cry out my shame into it so that my body is wrapped by a spasm of inaction. I bury myself alive in the grave of my own conceit, which I no longer want to serve. I confess in regret that I do not know how to serve Life. I’d rather die than just make one more move out of my ‘cleverness’. I admit I don’t know how to Live. So buried in my own helplessness I remember the first days in which I knew no effort to have all the abundance of Life.

Strengthened by primordial insight, I firmly swear to silence that protects me from the arrogance of reason, and I vigilantly listen to every command of Life that alone can pull me out of the snare of self-destruction.

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