The story of the night ...
".. A daughter complained to her father about her life and how things were so difficult. He did not know how to continue and believed to give up. She was tired of fighting. It seemed that when solving a problem, it appeared another.
His father, a chef, took her to the workplace. It filled three pots with water and placed on the fire. When three pots of boiled water, placed in a few carrots, eggs and placed them in another in 'the last placed ground coffee beans. He let the water boil without saying a word. The daughter impatiently waited, wondering what he was doing father. Twenty minutes later the father put out the fire. He pulled the carrots out and placed them in a dish. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in another pot. Finally, filtered the coffee and put it in a bowl.
Watching her daughter told her: "My dear child, carrot, egg or coffee?" The
he brought and asked her to touch the carrots, she did it and noticed that they were soft, after the churches to take an egg and of breaking it, while pulling off the shell, observed the hard boiled egg.
Once again, the churches that try to drink coffee, smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. Humbly
the daughter asked, "What does this, father? "He explained that the three had faced the same adversity," boiling water ", but each reacted differently.
The carrot went in strong, hard, proud, but after passing through the boiling water had become weak, easy to undo.
The egg had been fragile, its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after being in hot water on its inside became hardened.
Instead, the coffee beans were unique: after being in the boiling water, they had changed the 'water.
"What are you a daughter?" He said. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? "
" Are you a carrot that seems strong but the problems and pain when you touch, you become weak and lose your strength? "
" Are you an egg that starts with a malleable heart good spirit, but after a death, separation, dismissal, an obstacle on the way, it becomes hard and rigid? Outside you see the same, but within six bitter and harsh, with a spirit and a hardened heart? "
" Or are you like a coffee bean? The coffee changes the water, the element that causes him pain. When the water reaches the boiling point, coffee is at its best flavor. "
"If you like the coffee bean, when things get worse, you react in a positive form, without allowing yourself to win, and you do so that things that happen to you improve, that there is always a light, facing adversity , light your way and the people around you ... "
The Official Blog Of Giorgio Marchesi
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Denise Milani Black Dresse
A loose cannon on my path - 2 -
Wednesday and I 'seemed to be the victim of some kind joke candid camera when I did the meeting with what we call "loose cannon ".... because' a loose cannon can 'explode when you least expect it. .. but can 'also silenced for years ....
The scene:
A group of people who do not know each other, they begin to talk before the event after ... various clichés, I do not know how, you begin to talk about men and women .... and immediately after betrayal, marriage, double lives ....
The loose cannon and starts talking about her experiences, but then 'escapes the hand and begins to recount the experiences of her friends (or suspected) and one of these friends I "resonates" but I know that there may be so many 'up to the point where the description and' so 'states that ... no, there's no doubt.
The story tells about her, in a sense, also concerns me but she did not even know who is talking to me! Do you know how I was I? ! It's absurd scene?
I could say that the story he was telling was not true, or At least the part that concerned me and instead I said nothing, I've done tell all without flinching and I took note of the famous "open secret". Bah ... probably
and 'a very confused' cause when I think about it again I go up the confusion ... Anyway, I'm sure that'll soon discover 'the truth'.
... but I wonder: how many mines there are wandering around?
But most of all: What was she to me? Open my eyes or put to the test?
Wednesday and I 'seemed to be the victim of some kind joke candid camera when I did the meeting with what we call "loose cannon ".... because' a loose cannon can 'explode when you least expect it. .. but can 'also silenced for years ....
The scene:
A group of people who do not know each other, they begin to talk before the event after ... various clichés, I do not know how, you begin to talk about men and women .... and immediately after betrayal, marriage, double lives ....
The loose cannon and starts talking about her experiences, but then 'escapes the hand and begins to recount the experiences of her friends (or suspected) and one of these friends I "resonates" but I know that there may be so many 'up to the point where the description and' so 'states that ... no, there's no doubt.
The story tells about her, in a sense, also concerns me but she did not even know who is talking to me! Do you know how I was I? ! It's absurd scene?
I could say that the story he was telling was not true, or At least the part that concerned me and instead I said nothing, I've done tell all without flinching and I took note of the famous "open secret". Bah ... probably
and 'a very confused' cause when I think about it again I go up the confusion ... Anyway, I'm sure that'll soon discover 'the truth'.
... but I wonder: how many mines there are wandering around?
But most of all: What was she to me? Open my eyes or put to the test?
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Kates Playground Nipple Piercings
A loose cannon on my path
Sometimes meetings are truly "enlightening" ....
Sometimes meetings are truly "enlightening" ....
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
How To Make An Ornament Of The Alamo
Amethyst and the wonderful world of Merli
Punctually every day, meeting blackbirds in my way, and few dare to approach almost to touch the hand with their beaks, others have found on the roof of the car and every time ... 'a great thrill and a deep gratitude if you move all these battlements for me ... but what the message?
This morning when I go to work by car .... there they are 'on the sidewalk, over the roundabout I'm about to cross, a male and a female (now I've learned to recognize them), the male raised in the air and sets exactly in the middle of the road ... slow down thinking about taking over the flight ... no ... still remains motionless and proud ... I stop to rest and watch it slowly moves ... no ... no ... moves!
I turn off the car, get down and I get close to him, stand on the sidelines for a while, 'and then ...
Why 'do not you come with me in my world?
And it 's so that this story begins ....
A large wrought iron gate with circular hearts: this' entry .... I am struck by those hearts circular wrought iron and the rest of them 'to fix, my eye follows the lines and try to draw them in my mind .....
... suddenly the noise of the city 'disappears and what appears before my eyes and' something extraordinary.
I stop to look at the map that shows and explains the various parts of the park there '
the bridge bonds,
the mountain of the unsaid,
path achievable goals,
highway omnipotence,
the cave of anxiety,
the lake of identity and clarity of the river
let go,
the valley of silence and many other places too ...
I head towards the bridge ties It 's a small bridge in the green wires from which hang all the colors and materials:
simple cotton threads, silk threads
smooth and pleasant to the touch,
threads woven hemp rope, a bit 'rough, rough to the touch but very durable,
wires wool with a few knots,
strands of raffia very delicate and fragile,
broken wires ... "frayed wires, each wire
then, has different lengths, some seem to never end while others are very short .
And I began to ask me questions: "The wires represent the different links that we establish with people? And the wires? and broken wires? and wires with nodes? "
The blackbird replies:
" Hey .... we are not talking! You watch and listen with your heart ... I thought I had understood ...." and turns and keeps on looking at the horizon.
Seeking spoiled by all the questions and the rest of them 'to watch in silence making me caress your body with a light wind. .. and slowly beginning to understand and stop making pointless questions ...
and after a while 'I realize that I can see other threads: the invisible threads.
The wires of the mysteries, I
contact wires silent coincidences significant and start to see the faces ...
Until next time
(image of Isabelle Plante)
Punctually every day, meeting blackbirds in my way, and few dare to approach almost to touch the hand with their beaks, others have found on the roof of the car and every time ... 'a great thrill and a deep gratitude if you move all these battlements for me ... but what the message?
This morning when I go to work by car .... there they are 'on the sidewalk, over the roundabout I'm about to cross, a male and a female (now I've learned to recognize them), the male raised in the air and sets exactly in the middle of the road ... slow down thinking about taking over the flight ... no ... still remains motionless and proud ... I stop to rest and watch it slowly moves ... no ... no ... moves!
I turn off the car, get down and I get close to him, stand on the sidelines for a while, 'and then ...
Why 'do not you come with me in my world?
And it 's so that this story begins ....
A large wrought iron gate with circular hearts: this' entry .... I am struck by those hearts circular wrought iron and the rest of them 'to fix, my eye follows the lines and try to draw them in my mind .....
... suddenly the noise of the city 'disappears and what appears before my eyes and' something extraordinary.
I stop to look at the map that shows and explains the various parts of the park there '
the bridge bonds,
the mountain of the unsaid,
path achievable goals,
highway omnipotence,
the cave of anxiety,
the lake of identity and clarity of the river
let go,
the valley of silence and many other places too ...
I head towards the bridge ties It 's a small bridge in the green wires from which hang all the colors and materials:
simple cotton threads, silk threads
smooth and pleasant to the touch,
threads woven hemp rope, a bit 'rough, rough to the touch but very durable,
wires wool with a few knots,
strands of raffia very delicate and fragile,
broken wires ... "frayed wires, each wire
then, has different lengths, some seem to never end while others are very short .
And I began to ask me questions: "The wires represent the different links that we establish with people? And the wires? and broken wires? and wires with nodes? "
The blackbird replies:
" Hey .... we are not talking! You watch and listen with your heart ... I thought I had understood ...." and turns and keeps on looking at the horizon.
Seeking spoiled by all the questions and the rest of them 'to watch in silence making me caress your body with a light wind. .. and slowly beginning to understand and stop making pointless questions ...
and after a while 'I realize that I can see other threads: the invisible threads.
The wires of the mysteries, I
contact wires silent coincidences significant and start to see the faces ...
Until next time
(image of Isabelle Plante)
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