Nu poti fi corect,pana nu esti corect cu cei pe care i-ai ranit...Relatiile sunt precum o casa.Daca nu o intretii,sarcina ta nu va fi sa o repari,ci sa o reconstruiesti.
Cu totii purtam in noi experienta trecutului nostru.
Aceasta ne influenteaza relatiile,alegerile,conceptia despre noi insine.Nu poti trai o viata sanatoasa daca nu ti-ai reparat trecutul.Este cel mai bine sa repari trecutul imediat.Bandajarea relatiilor ranite,confruntarea cu regrete chinuitoare,renuntarea la sentimente pentru cineva care te-a tradat; aceste probleme se afla adanc in noi,ca si cum ar fi adormite.Apoi dintr-o data,ele sunt trezite de anumiti "tigri".Poate fi o aniversare,un nou chip in multime sau un anumit cantec vechi,dar acestea nu dispar pana nu le rezolvi...
In calitate de turma,majoritatea ranilor noastre vin din vietuirea noastra pe pasune.Spinii ne inteapa.Stancile ne taie.Ne ciocnim cap in cap.Ne pisca tantarii.Asa ca,inspecteaza turma cu regularitate,cautand ranile.Si asta,pentru ca nu doresti ca rana de azi sa devina infectia de maine!
Un comentariu:
Fiecare dintre noi are un trecut al sau,iar in unele puncte acesta se poate intersecta cu trecutul altor persoane, mai mult sau mai putin apropiate.Fiecare traieste insa pe cont propriu trecutul sau!Este un dar minunat faptul ca-l purtam cu noi, oricat de crud ar fi el uneori, chiar daca avem rani grele.Traim!Depinde de noi(prin voia Lui)cum traim!
Am convingerea ca ai citit deja "IF", dar cred ca nu strica sa o recitesti, domnisoara Nita!
IF
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch - and toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
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