While reflecting one day in a new autumn, I wonder if consciousness can grow old.
Perhaps grow, and mature in experience.
The ego within ourselves recognises itself and finds itself, in the moment of choice, thanks to and because of inner solitude.
Positive loneliness as exclusive beings and in choice excluded.
Moderately alone, we live as human and animal together.
Fictitious autonomy and being oneself weave like a light canvas that we can shape without being able to free ourselves.
What to do now, as young people or children.
Where I am or will end up.
When, how and with what guidance, internal or to follow.
I am.
Absolutely Me, my consciousness.
I speak to myself, I listen to myself.
I am the one of yesterday, the one of right advice and assumed lies.
I am always that elegant thread.
Today I accept and respect myself.
I know that if I try, really try, the error will be right.
I will arrive by sometimes long and interesting paths.
I am the conscience, no longer young, not old.
I am the consciousness.
I am the I that will remain.
I fear no sickness, not even fear or insecure Being.
What if I consciousness were the sole interlocutor of the present soul.
Present contemporary and absolute.
If the soul were certainly bound to flesh and skin, but imbued with consciousness.
If the soul were concrete, even material, easy to live with and accept.
If consciousness did not forget that we are skin-clad spirits.
It wears the skin, it burns and distracts us, it anchors us to the need, the daily, the meal and everything else.
I am consciousness, the Ego par excellence, through life-long corridors, I live, I exist (always) and therefore I survive.
I am the Ego, true.
Proud and enduring.
Consciousness is ageless.
It frees the body from age.
We would not one day say my consciousness.
I would speak of my body.
I conscience inhabits the years and I stand out in the whole.
The serene consciousness leaves the skin tender.
It induces serenity and a smile.
Joy, emotion, action and movement.
Strive for this.
Live a body that we falsely possess.
Always live without before or after.
Life is short, and Existence endless.
Absolute is easy.
Youth is art and life.
A gift for the elect.
Be it!
The little paper boat
Once upon a time there was a little paper boat floating inside a large bucket of water. It had an ice cube in front of it. It bumped into it and sank. Once upon a time there was a big
