medicina narrativa

The virus of acceptance

Are you in trouble? I mean, for example, economic or in interpersonal relationships. Do you think it’s inevitable, so you even give up on reacting? Or fill our suffering-torn conscience with mystical illusions such as: enduring hardships makes you better? I really think they inoculated you with the virus of acceptance. Well, consider that the only thing you should accept – in a poke – is only the present moment, what happens – in this very moment – here and now. Or, if you prefer a different formulation, it is a matter of concentrating and focusing – exclusively – on a gash, a glimmer of consciousness without place or time. Objects, like ideas, noises, the same breath, come and go, but you are always and only pure and intangible consciousness. Among other things, for some, it is a very effective meditation to quickly loosen the grip and calm down; with all the advantages that relaxation brings. May that strip of consciousness be your portable piece of heaven. For the rest, for the more concrete problems, use all your creativity. Now a short poem.

The virus of acceptance
Who is it that with those clear eyes smiles among the stars
of a blue firmament filled with infinity?
Who is she, maybe her name is Aurora
or is she Chara like Albha?
But no, I think it is Beatrice who approaches lightly,
that she walks like an Angel to bestow Love
to those who seek it for no reason and give it back.

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Then, all of a sudden, you look a little around you
and you see that you don’t even have those crumbs
to continue living.
You feel you are among the enemies, among violent barbarians,
you see them transparently and you know you are deluded.

Well, take that look back and act as needed (if necessary)
that there is no one here to ever give you that minimum
that you gave to friends.
When you talk you are humble, in fact a poor man,

Take back your frown and fight without mind.
you who deluded yourself that you were among humans …
No, they are still hominids pretending to be saints.
They do charity, which is what persists most inept
in the folds of this narrow time.

Already deceived before, always duped.
My friend, courage, there is nothing left in the world
who says that suffering is right and inexorable.

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