Luftbahn

People say hurtful things because they themselves have been hurt. 

When we are open to others, we dare to be vulnerable and honest. 

Haemin Sunim

“No one that never looked at me should know what I don’t have to say.

Because unspoken words and vanished memories are all the same thing.

They are stored somewhere far from our minds.

Why should I keep what is gone,

Why has everything gone up so wild.

I feel hurt.”

“Just wait and time will heal” Said the helper.

“What if time never comes.” This was my fear.

He pointed out to a far away star in the beautiful summer sky.

“It might take hundreds of years for the light from this star to come to us. But it does come”

“I’m not a star, my lifetime is nothing but a fraction of a fraction of this time, close to nothing…”

“No, what differs you from that star is not your lifespan but the intensity in which you live every millisecond.”

“…For in every fraction of a millisecond is eternity.” and his words echoed in my mind.

In such an intensity that I could feel a weird burning sensation in my head, in my whole body. 

A ball of fire burning so strong, without beginning nor end. Today and forever. 

“Is this…””Is this, what I see?” I was not sure if he knew what I was able to see, or feel. 

“It’s fire.”

“Yes. Did everything come from fire?”

“Everything did indeed come from fire.”

“Is it fire as we know it? Or is it something else?”

“Tell me, do you really know fire? You know it burns, you know it is powerful. But do you really know fire?”

“No.”

“It’s the eternal flame we are talking about.”

…

“Hallelujah, eternal fire.”

It was an hypnotic vision. Before everything came to be there was fire. Oh, it could burn my vision, it’s too strong. 

…

As the evening turned into morning, I stayed in touch with the deepest of my thoughts, in almost transcendence. As if I could understand a little bit more of the puzzle of reality. Still, for every bit I take, the less I know, because there is much more than I ever imagined it to be. Why are we so limited, who wanted us to be like this? Is it our fault? What have we done to deserve such a boring fate? Why can only the angels have wings? No, no, I can no longer accept it as my fate. 

I turned to him again, but I think he was asleep this time. 

“Hey, listen to me. I am angry right now.”

“Why is it not allowed for us to know more? Should we just conform ourselves with our dumbness? Or am I the only one not seeing it?”

He was asleep or pretended not to hear, 

but I continued.

“No one never hears to me. I am screaming for the truth. Is desiring it not enough? I have given my soul and whatever is left so that I know. I will travel the inner and outer dephts just to have one more clue. What is this??”

I kept remembering the visions I just had. The fire might contain all the answers. 

And I am sure you also already hear this one: “Know thyself……” 

But how, no, I get so frustrated. To know oneself is to go through the hardest of the tasks, within ourselves lies a pond of darkness and grief. Whoever claims to be able to walk through it might be lying. I don’t know. 

“Is it my lack of faith?” I asked him. 

“Yes.” he replied. 

Faith is perhaps the most powerful of the powerful. Because it starts with a wish and within this wish is certainty. Nothing can destroy a desire that is certain to occur. That is what lies beneath any invocation, any praying, any transmutation. 

It doesn’t matter how dark.

If it’s winter outside and inside of you. 

While you sing your pain, the light still shines. 

Be it sun or snow. 

10 days of snow / and I still don’t know / what makes a heart to melt so slow.

10 days of solitude… and quietness./ 10 days of snow. 10 snowy days.

The candles, they’ve burnt so fast. / And I still don’t know how to make friendships last.

10 days passed me by/ as if no one cares if I still cry/ from a basement / terrible moments.

10 is a cursed number/ reminds me of a black raven / to eat flesh in the darkest day of the year.

White white snow, how can I/ can I invite you inside / come to my basement / she would melt, she would melt.

10 days of know / and I still don’t know / how can I go outside

But on the 11th day

what a beautiful day

In the end it’s was all about time. And time… hm, time is not only what you see on the clock. 

The compassionate gaze of the wounded soul is more beautiful than the naive smile of the inexperienced youth.

Haemin Sunim