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Looking for Nothing

By Silvia Diego All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Poetry

Blurb

My dream is to reach out to people and lead them to want to start that same quest. In my book, I started talking to a love and ended up talking to life.

Introduction

Looking for nothing …

One seeks and asks so many things. Today, writing these words, I wonder how the best way to start this book would be. Like trying to do something that people want to read, enjoy, something to help them look for and help them begin that journey inside.

To tell them that life has to be looked at in so many colors. So many hues. To understand many things and to understand why. It cost a lot of things and taught me too much.

My great adventure began when I was 11 years old, I began to write to free myself of a platonic love that was shouting me to come out.

But at that same age, exactly the day of my birthday, my great grandfather died. For a girl of that age to start questioning death can be something traumatic, for me it was not. I wanted to know more. Why do we die?. What happens next ?. What comes next?. We continue in spirit living in this world?. It is what we call ghosts?. What is the soul?. What does it feel like to leave the physical body?. Are we looking at ourselves?.

All this happened in a matter of seconds through my head as I sat watching people walk by and watching my great grandfather’s cold body. And in the background, he had prepared a cassette with conversations about death and his legacy, to see that image put me more in trance. I seem to smell the flowers that surrounded his coffin. We feel so important and we finish like this, in a cold wooden box.We are no longer able to move. So much that we worry about the material, where is all that?.

I remember walking through the cemetery and seeing so many tombs, one on the side of the other. See the niches, all piled up one above the other. And last but mo least, some niches underground, that to the delight of the visitor who goes down the narrow stairways where you have to grab on ... tombs. Yes, if you imagine going down to that dark place, full of small stones shaped like boxes of shoes one above the other. Some forgotten by the time, others beautifully decorated with beautiful plastic flowers a little missed over the years, while those that had natural flowers already entering in the process of becoming overshadowed like the opaque life of the one to whom they decorated their tumb today. That smell of stagnant water, that sweet smell of flowers and a mixture of… I do not know, was the perfect landscape for a horror movie. But I just thought, so far we’ve come. This is where we land.

Will my grandchildren remember me? Did I wonder, and my great grandchildren? Would they left me thrown like many who I saw? A lot that had not been visited. I felt so sorry for that, I felt sorry. But when you die, you mind that?. More beautiful was the image of just turning my eyes and watching a lady who very adorable cleaned the small niche and to my own delight, I could see that bag of white cloth is where lay the remains of your loved one. This one with a huge silver cross on his assets. That, I frame for life. Sometimes it gives me shivers but it is the reality. That is the law and the law must be fulfilled.

Now, why ‘Looking for Nothing’?. Because after a process of years, after searching and reading how many books I could. Out of three hundred classes of catharsis, after basing myself and feeling very affiliated with what metaphysics is. After learning about Osho, learning reiki, redecorating with Feng Shui, meditating, watching Umbanda parties and idolizing Saint Germain and his violet flame, I have come to the conclusion that I will never be satisfied.

That desire, so many desires, to want to know everything and to ask me why have taken me to so many points and places. I have seen and heard so many things. I learned I absorbed how much information I could, only to know that, that search never ends.

It is endless, it is a nothingness.

Like every good girl, I was raised under the Catholic religion, but as many would say, today I have my own religion. I have a little bit of all but I follow my own beliefs. That is the good thing when one is open to different options when one wants to learn a little bit of everything. One is more flexible and to be more flexible one understands and respects much more the ideas and beliefs of the others. Why?. Because one is so hungry to learn and to know more and more, that accepts. And by accepting these you are learning.

For example. I am not a Buddhist but I have read, I have searched and I have spoken with people who implement those beliefs. What I did was that I learned and accepted this. I have a little bit of all and I’m still going for more. It still does not end, I’m still looking, I do not know what, I know that this search leads me to keep looking, to keep asking me so many things. I tell myself, wow I have so much to go!.

What I mean with “Looking for Nothing” is that I feel that the search for something, that search for my being, is a whole so great, that leads me to raise the fact that I should just let myself go. Let the current drag me. I do not know where I’m going, I do not know but I know it’s the most beautiful place in all, where I will finally have peace. Where I will find no more fears, more frustrations, there will be no hatred, no jealousy, no sadness. No more mixed feelings, no more sorrows in the soul. That is my nothingness. And that’s where I’m headed. Do you come with me?.

The gift of loving ...

How to summarize in a few words the experiences that I have had. How to express the right words. Life has been giving me the biggest opportunity I have. Life is offering me what I’ve been looking for: Love.

How much time of my life I’ve lost for just looking for that love.

The time that I respect and admire since that lost time was the one that helped me.

It was he who helped me wake me up and say to myself: “I’m not like everyone.”

It was the one that helped me to mature, it was the one that taught me to learn to respect life.

And to respect me. If I had to say right now that is what inspires me to continue in that search I would not hesitate to say. Just one word. One word that for me is everything: love.

I love love, I love that feeling, I love that emotion that makes me fly and lose the notion of time.

What would life be without love? What would be my life without love?.

I do not know, and I would not really like to know.

I do not even want to think about not loving. I would die, I know.

And I know that now, I want to live every minute, every moment, every moment of life.

Now I am here living the present.

Tasting it and feeling it.

Life is giving me the opportunity to love.

Can you see it?? How can I not answer to that?

What more do I want to find love and have it face to face…

Something from me ...

The living is difficult, learning and maturing is also difficult. And more at such a stage as adolescence. Everyone gets into your life. Sometimes even giving you absurd advice, ideas, and explanations that in our teenage years we can not understand because we feel that adults do not understand us.

We understand that our parents want to give us the best, that many times they are afraid of what we do (you understand, they are our parents). And today, as many of us as parents we are going to want to give our children the best as well.

But this was something that I did not understand at that moment and now as a mom myself I do (part of life). I know that my parents still today do not understand what was the reason that leads me to make the crucial decision to drop out of high school. And I think I did it because at that time my rebelliousness led me to think that it was a constitution of poor lambs that followed the cattle. I’m not saying it’s bad to study because one of the things I’m proud of is the great education I had and all the things I learned. But my way of thinking was very different from the era I was live in. I thought they had put a sort of disk in our minds, a diskette that came from generation to generation. Something brought to us by our great-great-grandparents.

They always told me “You have to be someone in life, you have to have a title, a career.

To be a doctor, a lawyer, a veterinarian. Because otherwise, you will be nobody and BLA BLA BLA “.

And what about, “You have to have a family and raise your children .. And behave well and ...” Ahhh !, I just wanted to run away. I just thought to myself, they have so much fuss in their minds, always worried about the “What they say”, worried about the material, thinking only of money and power and abuse. And I just wondered, “when I die, I’ll take all that?“. Money does not buy death, money does not cure you of a terminal illness. Money does not earn you the heavens, with money loneliness doesn’t go away. I never wanted to be a rebel because my goal was not that one. I just want it to look for the truth.

I wondered if the study was for me if that was what I really wanted to learn in life.

From there came the experiences, the knowledge of being. It meant that there I would learn to be a mother, to know the people for what they are, we learn to fight for our own principles, our ideals ?. Would I learn to be ‘someone’? Just as they told me. I was someone already I just needed to learn to deal with life and the conflicts that it drags.

I know and trust that everyone knows what he or she wants. Follow your instincts and your dreams, YOUR way. Know how to respect yourself. Be what you are; sweeper, carpenter, president, butcher, architect, doctor, model, maid, whatever you are. Just BE.

Fight that people respect your way of thinking, your way of being. Do not judge and don’t judge yourself. I never complain about the way of being of my parents, my brothers, my grandparents.

They have lived and live their way, they think their way like all people. And I am another person, a person who needs respect, with its defects and virtues. With my complexes and my doubts. I am a human being and nobody has the right to control me, nobody has the right to control you. God gave me life, gave me strength, gave me hope and that is the great confidence that I carry with me. So if nobody believed in me, why they had the right or (believed they had the right) to not let me fly.

I thank God and thank life for giving me the opportunity to see the truth. For having said to me since then, “No, you are not like the others You are not one more of the cattle You are a lioness and the lionesses fight to be free Lionesses form their own herd even when they have been banished”.

I start my journey …

Who has never felt alone? Who has never felt the need to escape from their loneliness? Maybe that’s how I felt when I started to realize all the things I had in mind and no one would understand.

I with only 11 wrote love poems. Love Poems!. Sound crazy but love knock early to my door. And that love that had arrived at an early age, had name and surname. And he would kill me, love him, and feel like my little heart exploded when they told me about ‘HIM’. The funny thing is that we are not talking about someone who was around and was a boy my age. He was a man, a man who was at the top of his career. It was someone who was very far from me. Too far I would say.

But at the same time that I realized that every day I like this man more and more, I knew he was so far away and that great difference of age were hurting me. I begin to suffer for a man I never saw in my short life, for someone who did not know of my existence. And that’s how it all started.

I knew that if I talked about how I felt about that person, they would all burst out laughing in front of my own noses. And I had to keep quiet, I had to keep that love in me. And as I grew older, that love grew even more in me. And we grew up together. I was loving someone who lived thousands of kilometers, who is 33 years old and is famous. At that time I felt totally crazy, I felt that nobody was going to understand me, I was ashamed. I knew they would laugh at me. MY for love for ‘HIM’ was serious. I was reluctant to cross the seven seas just to be by ‘HIS’ side. Was very strong, was almost sickly. It was already really sick. I knew it was crazy, but something I’m sure, love is crazy. Love does not understand borders, love does not understand races, love does not understand the culture, does not understand barriers, does not understand nationalities or languages. Is love. And when it comes, it comes.

Time passed and I was still the same, delirious young girl madly in love. And with only one thing in mind: to be with ‘HIM’. I came to believe that I was meant for ‘HIM’. I was in this world just to love ‘HIM’. But I was alone, at that point, I had already become my own accomplice and friend. I advised myself, gave faith to myself and hopes as well.

One day I couldn’t take it anymore. I grab a piece of paper, a pencil and start writing. I wrote and wrote. Everything I felt, everything that happened to me. All. When I wrote that first words, I felt something so strange. And just like that, I realized that was my solution. What better than to write what I felt. That was IT!. So every day I wrote with words dictated by my heart. I could feel the ideas flowing through my mind and purified in my heart. They ran through my veins and out through my fingers and embedded in that piece of paper. And so I wrote lots and lots of poems. I know I spent nights and nights writing. And while I was writing I was crying like a new born baby. I felt sad. My only friend was a simple piece of paper. That it would not give me any answer of what I was feeling. I knew that love was making me suffer. I lived locked in my own world of which I am attached to this day.

I lived in the most beautiful corner of my fantasies. I was happy like this, imagining things that a girl of my age had never crossed her mind. But what made me suffer was the reality of knowing that this, that this world in which I lived was unreal. I was not living in the real one. Whenever I wanted to hide from something or I was frightened by something, I took refuge in my world, fled to it in every chance I have. It protected me from my problems by entering into it. My fears evaporated and I was happy. I was happy in that world that my imagination created and not the true one. I felt that I did not belong, that my life was a dream. That I was asleep and that I was seeing myself doing the same thing. Obviously, my love had to be in my world. What the world without him this would be. Another reason to hate the real world, ‘HE’ was not with me. ‘HE’ did not know about me. And in my world, ‘HE’ lived by my side, ‘HE’ was my ally. My friend, my brother, ‘HE’ was everything to me. Maybe, ‘HE’ was that world.

I was about to become a young lady. I had changed, matured. Regular as any adolescent on the rise. But I still kept a secret: ‘HIM’. ‘HE’ that at that time definitely was not any close to me. In ’94, 3 days after my 14th birthday, I found out, he got married, things of life !. How to explain. The fall of the world upon my noses was little. For me, my life was over. I had hit bottom. I was stuck and couldn’t get out. My world was turned around and everything stayed around. I had lost the being who I had fed my hopes day by day. I had lost faith. And the desire to keep going. And for what? I wondered. Why keep going. ‘HE’ was that friend whom with his songs told me his life.

For my fifteens, I had managed to survive. I had to begin again. I decided to forget ‘HIM’, decided to forget it. To forget that love. And when I wrote I did not talk about love anymore. I spoke about hatred and spite. Resentment and indignation. I had really been affected, ‘HE’ was a prophet to me. ‘HE’ was my God, my everything. I grown up with ‘HIM’, suffered ‘HIS’ personals or professional problems. My family had already realized, I really did nothing to hide it. I was not the same anymore. I lived my life locked in a room writing poems to someone who really was not to blame. ‘HE’ was with all the rights to live his life, to have a family. That was all, that was the truth. But how do you tell a teen that??. My little heart did not see it like that. My mother was not sure whether to take me to a psychologist or not. Of course, everyone thought that I was crazy, that I was wrong, that this could not be so.

It was there when a Mrs. about 58 years old, came from Brazil. A 58 years old whom today is my best friend. Her name, Marise. And if today, I have decided to write this book and show everything I have written, it is for her. She was the one who told me ‘Silvia, you have to make this a book’. I started going to her home, talked a lot and learned many things from her. It was in one of those many long talks that she learned what was happening to me, for real. With her I felt very safe, at first I felt a little silly. It was clear, I was no longer a little girl to tell all that. But when I start talking to her, I could not stop.

I remember perfectly, she sat down and stared into my eyes and said ‘That love is not for him, that love is yours’. It was incredible, those words changed my life. They dropped the blindfold off my eyes. It was so easy. Why does she not meet me years ago and would have told me that? How many tears had I saved? It turned out that everything that I was going through and passing was part of my maturity. Was more than that, maybe that was the only way life could have caught my attention. It was it a way of helping me to be awake, to awake that search for my being. It was my divine love, my inner self who was calling me.

The search…

Why did I choose to show you these poems? Well, I know that they are not the great poems. They are not the great writings and/or literary works. Many of them are very corny and maybe even too shallow, I would say. Shallow with the kind of message they regard. But you have to remember that they are written by a little girl who was just in begun to live and who did not really know what really love was. They are simply thoughts and feelings of a teenager. A teenager who was trying to get to know herself, who was wondering. A teenager who though love will give her the answers she needed.

And I wanted to share them. Because that’s how my search started. Through the need to express how I felt about a Platonic ‘love’, my feelings began to unfold, to strip my soul and to reveal the truth in me. I would love for you to be able to travel with me and walk in my shoes. As my beloved Elvis Presley would say, ‘Walk a mile in my shoes, walk a mile in my shoes. Yeah, before you abuse, criticize and accuse, walk a mile in my shoes’. Maybe many understand me and maybe even feel identified.

My goal is for everyone to get the message, for everyone to start wondering why.

Once you understand why we are in this life, you see everything so differently. Who may not have written something, and at that moment did not understand the meaning. But when life takes us through different ways, and we are showing warmly the pro and the cons. The beautiful things and absurd things. When we finally see, our own mistakes. When we go further and see a different part of us that we did not know. And we see that each piece fits.

And I know it’s difficult, I know it’s not easy with so many problems that you have, life does not help you pay the bills, no one will go for you to work when you feel bad. There is the trick, there is the ‘black hand’. Locking the doors in our own face and prohibiting the passage. And I understand, believe me, that is not have been easy to walk in this life. Sometimes I see other people who have to pass through so many hard things in life and I wonder if that is the right we must pay.

I believe in reincarnation and karma. And I think we paid everything in life. And I know that when I put my leg wrongfully into something, I know, that the ceiling will fall on me. It’s just like that, it does not fail me. Sometimes I do it unconsciously, sometimes I’m a little devil and I know what comes to me. And I am attentive to the consequences.

So, why did I choose to add these poems? Because they show step by step how I was changing. Maybe that’s why I decided to split each step. There is a beginning, a middle and an end. It is a circle that closes. It’s a journey that ends. This is my beginning. My trip and if I did not put it the way it is, it would be incomplete. For more shame they give me, they are part of me, they are part of the girl who fell in love, the girl whom explore, wondered and analyzing every step she took.

This is how everything began, with a love and stories to tell.

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