“Through our eyes, the universe is perceiving itself. Through our ears, the universe is listening to its harmonies. 
We are the witnesses through which the universe becomes conscious of its glory, of its magnificence.” Alan W. Watts 

Yesterday I found myself suddenly in the middle of a small, personal revolution...

Just like every day, I stood in front of the mirror, to brush my teeth and hair and put in my contact-lenses and…
Normally, after these basic actions, I put on mascara on both my upper and lower eyelashes.
Yesterday, without any psychological exercise beforehand, for the first time in say 15 years, I suddenly thought
‘No, I don’t need it. I look just fine.’

 Sorry, what?..

As the day went on I just kept feeling fine, even the moments where I felt a bit tired and looked in the mirror
I did not come back to my decision to go through my day with my eyes, just the way they are.
I became aware of the thoughts I had for years and years that were simply not true!
I thought that, without this extra bit of darkness on my eyelashes, I look tired, like I had just woken up or cried
and my eyes look smaller. Like I somehow needed to confirm the existence of my eyes, by painting a dark line around them.

Today I keep on thinking about this little miracle of contentment with my own nature.
Is this the free advantage of being in my thirties?
The difference mascara/no mascara might look just a trifle, but what does it actually mean when I look at it on a deeper level?

I guess I start to feel free. I am doing things again I thought I couldn’t do. I have two instruments at home that I deeply love,
a little celtic harp and an electronic piano. I did not touch them for months. Why? For sure not because I do not love to spend
my time with them. I did not play because I thought I was not worthy of playing hem. Because I thought I couldn’t.
The black beast of insecurity got me in its claws and I was not even aware of it.

Now I released the child that just loves to play. She gets into a trance on the repetition of a few simple chords.
She sings her own songs to it. She knows, without knowing.
Thoughts can be like dirty fingers, keeping the flower of creativity away from blossoming.
No need to confirm the flower with lines, words or sounds. If she does, it is for nothing but play. 

Just blossoming this words out here on the blog, to release the natural beauty to possibly cause more little revolutions
of freedom through contentment..