Libro de Arena

Teresa ha escrito:

Hoy he recibido este correo, quizá explique algunas cosas... y aunque al ponerlo aquí me esté saltando su principal mensaje... ahí va:

"Usted tiene el hábito de juntar objetos inútiles en este momento, creyendo que un día (no sabe cuando) podrá precisar de ellos.

Usted tiene el hábito de juntar dinero sólo para no gastarlo, pues piensa en el futuro podrá hacer falta.

Usted tiene hábito de guardar ropa, zapatos, muebles, utensilios domésticos y otras cosas del hogar que ya no usa hace bastante tiempo.

..Y dentro suyo?...Usted tiene el hábito de guardar broncas, resentimientos, tristezas, miedos, etc.

No haga eso. Es anti-prosperidad.

Es preciso crear un espacio, un vacío, para que las cosas nuevas lleguen a su vida.

Es preciso eliminar lo que es inútil en usted y en su vida, para que la prosperidad venga.

Es la fuerza de ese vacío que absorberá y atraerá todo lo que usted desea.

Mientras usted está material o emocionalmente cargando cosas viejas e inútiles, no habrá espacio abierto para nuevas oportunidades.

Los bienes precisan circular. Limpie los cajones, los armarios, el cuarto del fondo, el garaje.

Dé lo que usted no usa más.

La actitud de guardar un montón de cosas inútiles amarra su vida.

No son los objetos guardados que estancan su vida, sino el significado de la actitud de guardar.

Cuando se guarda, se considera la posibilidad de falta, de carencia.

Es creer que mañana podrá faltar, y usted no tendrá medios de proveer sus necesidades.

Con esa postura, usted está enviando dos mensajes para su cerebro y para su vida:

1º... usted no confía en el mañana

2º... usted cree que lo nuevo y lo mejor NO son para usted, ya que se alegra con guardar cosas viejas e inútiles.

Deshágase de lo que perdió el color y el brillo y deje entrar lo nuevo en su casa... y dentro de si mismo...

Amigos queridos, después de leer esto, no lo guarden".

http://www.librodearena.com/materiaoscura/post/2008/02/23/el-principio-del-vacio-

New Yorker Gnome

I have long made staying at the Algonquin one of the highlights of my visits to Manhattan. Last week, Galway Kinnell's visit with Lee Quinn embellished my experience. Among many clever things, he said that "to tell the truth, I was getting sick of rhymes and meter, just plain sick of it, and I quit writing rhyme and meter forever." He is a memorizer and recited Yeats' Innisfree poem; later he recited Dylan Thomas' work. To answer another of Lee's questions he said he was influenced by Edgar Allan Poe, and that he felt, as a young man, that no one had written poetry after Poe. Then, and this one went over most people's heads, that he "fell upon Emily Dickinson with great joy." Upon saying that, he looked out into the audience with a grin, a mischevious grin that prompted people to laugh. He told about the time he was asked to teach a year of Walt Whitman's work. The book they sent him lay "around the house for a while and then picked it up and read it and realized why he [Whitman] was so unpopular. His poems were awful." But the sixteenth poem he read was beautiful." He added that "Whitman is appealing because of the music in his poetry" and "Whitman had shown himself to be an adventurer close to Dickinson" an observation that echoes remarks I've heard my dear professor of poetry say during lecture. Lee asked him if there was a poet he considered risky. I do not know what she meant by "risky," but Kinnell thought for a moment and began to say Dylan Thomas, but folks in the audience had to remind him of the name. He said Thomas's work was so beautiful that he read him only once per week to give himself time to forget his style. Hold on and don't follow someone else's music, he implied. It was at this point that he began to recite one of Dylan's poems. Afterwards, he said he "felt thrilled when one of my students wrote a great poem . . . and properly morose when they did not." What is something to tell an emerging poet asked Lee: Keep your senses alert; maintain sense power and facilities, the alertness that you were born with.