Moonflower Dreams © by Irina Serban

Pin It

READ the story ⬇, or LISTEN to it ⬆

What a sad place the world would be without the light of the Moon!

The moonflower would bow its head in fragranceless desolation, forgetful to open its petals. Yes, even its perfume would fade in some lost memory of some lost people.

And the ocean... Inert in its still surrender like a huge pond to which it has been denied the mirroring of a night sky. No thrill, no movement, no wish to go and search for the hidden moon rays in the sand.

A stiff, unadorned picture on a cold stonewall...

Yet, no sadness would equal that of the humans who love the Queen of the Night. The Sun would be of no solace—its perfect, round shape burning, and burning, and burning insidiously.

The Moon is as beautifully imperfect as the human heart. It wanes until it vanishes in a deserved rest on undefined, tormented skies. It grows until it comes full circle exploding its minty, round face like a refreshing thought. Its spots remind us of our scars and imperfections. Its dim light piercing the night resembles that flickering sparkle inside the darkness of our souls. Non invasive, it gives enough light as to reveal the glowing contours of the shapes so far fading in darkness.

And the Night... What would the Night be without the silver ball dress made of moon rays? I'm sure the Moon is the Night's moonflower for it loves hanging it in its dark hair while stepping through the alleys made of dreams ready to be awaken.

I for one am sitting on the porch of sleepy dreams woven by Moon and Night, and I'm watching the moonflowers opening to the miracle of silence. Soon, they'll be starting their nocturnal dialogue with the Moon. No one will ever know which of them borrowed the beauty from the other. The earthly beauty of the Moon is portrayed in the moonflowers, and the heavenly face of the moonflowers is captured by the Moon. And as usually, every night, I can hear them talking about Patience while waiting for the day to be over, about Proper Time of blooming during the night, about Sharing their perfume with the Night and the Moon, about the Simplicity of their white beauty, about their Longing for their petals to be kissed by the Moon every night.

A chirping cricket jumps right amidst their stems and startles their conversation. I think they’ve noticed me there, and suddenly, they choose to be silent while getting my senses drunk with sweet perfume.

And I’ve dreamt of moonflower petals dancing around the Moon on the notes of a song coming from an enchanted forest. Magic and moonflower dreams! 

© Copyright 2013 Irina Serban. All rights reserved

I Plead For Being Human © by Irina Serban

Pin It

We live in the era of control: controlling our own thoughts primarily. And it's great when applied to our work, to our dreams, to our journey towards professional success. But it's awful when applied to all the other aspects that make us complete human beings. Yes, we are human beings and not cold droids! Can we really force ourselves into feeling and thinking only positive things? Why do we struggle to get out of the negative feelings the very moment we experience them, or even worse, why do we blame ourselves for feeling them?

When negativity pays us a visit together with all its friends: anger, hurt, jealousy, grudge, regret, sadness, inertia, etc., we should open wide the door of our hearts and welcome them in. They'll settle in our house made of light, and fill it with darkness. They'll feel warm and cosy. We'll feel miserable. Don’t worry! It won't last! Because as sure as a word loses its meaning when repeated continuously, so will the darkness diminish in intensity, and our courage to throw it out will grow. What's more, we'll stop fearing it, because by letting it in, we'll come to know well the enemies within us: we'll know how they ‘think’, how they attack, we'll clearly see our weaknesses and our strengths. We'll grow wiser and immune at their presence. They're like a virus. They infect us and take the best out of us! But the second time, it will be easier. The third even easier, and then, we’ll learn to keep our hearts strong and safe while swimming through the murky waters.

On the contrary, if we try to control and close all the entrances, they'll keep haunting us. Only by acknowledging their presence at the doors of our hearts doesn't mean we face them. They'll get tired of knocking, and we'll mistake their silence with their disappearance. But they will still there concocting a stronger plan of attack, and next time, they'll come stampeding over our whole lives, knocking us down and injuring our souls.

I think that by allowing ourselves to feel deeply all the negative emotions, we become what we are: complex, beautifully imperfect human beings.

Our life is a bird with two wide, colourful wings: one has all the strokes of light, the other one, of darkness. If we cut one of the wings or try to control its movement, the flight will be crippled, and we'll end up smashing against the soil.

Therefore, I plead for being human and humane. I plead for times of anger as well as for times of peace. I plead for times of hate as well as for times of love. But I will never plead for indifference and cold detachment. Indifference means the death of the soul. We are here to feel and learn from our feelings while becoming masters of what to do with what we feel.

I plead for doing our best at staying in and searching for the light, but I will never plead for forcing our way out of darkness, for in the end, darkness always gets tired of itself. We need darkness to recognize light. How can we know one thing if we don't become acquainted with its opposite?

I plead for pain as well as for joy, I plead for sorrow, as well as for happiness.

Life is like a seesaw, and we can't have fun if we sit still only on one of its sides. We need a force on the other side to bring us up or down.

Yes, believe in the good; yes, stay positive; yes, take the lessons from every happening and move on because life goes on, but never blame yourselves for the days when you choose otherwise. Blame, guilt do not take us out of darkness, but force us to dive even deeper in it.

Never forget to be gentle with yourselves! Be human, breathe, have fun and try to do your best! That shall do!

© Copyright 2013 Irina Serban. All rights reserved

An Ash Tree Told Me... © by Irina Serban

Pin It

READ the story ⬇, or LISTEN to it⬆

On a green hill, forgotten by the Gardener, a solitary ash tree was rustling his leaves in the wind. I touched his old, wrinkled trunk that still had the majesty of an upright flight. I’ve always been drawn to ash trees—they have something soothing in the way they move their rich crowns, they inspire strength, and the skies seem to rest upon their shoulders.

I sat down and looked up waiting for the moon to cast its bluish light and fill the place with magic. A leaf fell right beside me shifting my attention from the sky to the ash tree, again. Surrender… That’s what I saw in the flight of that leaf.

“Is it the leaf or the tree that taught you that?” cracked the voice of the ash.

The tree was the one who had to let go to that leaf, and in its fall, the first signs of autumn were announced to the watchers. But what if the leaf, too, decided it was high time it parted?

“Yes, signs of change!” the tree continued. “Signs of turning into an insightful rest when the eyes of Nature close and its spirit is wide awake.”

“Don’t you feel pain whenever you release your leaves?” I asked.

“Always! But as I know I have to let them go, so do they know they have to part the safety of my branches. We’re saying farewell through soft whispers.

I cannot move. I have to stand tall and strong through storms and blizzards, and I know they’re still there, keeping my roots warm. If it weren’t for their sacrifice, I would freeze and die. Sometimes, change means death and sacrifice: I let them die to be able to give birth to new leaves next year until my time will come and my trunk will be so hollow, my roots so weak that the earth will let me fall and claim me. It will be my turn to feed the earth, and from one of my branches, maybe, a new ash tree will be born.

So, you see! I have inside me the memory and nourishment of all the leaves that have fallen from my branches, as the memory of all I’ve been before flows through the hidden channels of the land—they live in me, I live in this earth.

Letting go always hurts because it means letting go a part of yourself, but be comforted that nothing is truly lost or falls prey to oblivion. It adds to who you are and who you want to become. Sometimes, in life, you have to be the leaf and know when it’s time to go and sacrifice; some other times, you have to be the tree and stay strong through the gusts of wind and hope that what you nurtured for such a long time will keep you warm and save you from the frost of challenging situations.”

That’s what an ash tree on a green hill told me, and I’ve learnt that I have to pay attention to what I nurture, for that nourishment becomes the very essence of myself, just like the sap in the trunk of the ash tree. It’s the only thing that will keep me on my feet when the unseen hands of merciless tempests want to push me down. My roots will hold me in one place, my crown may lose all its leaves, but I’ll still be there, waiting for another season to pass and start all over again. 

© Copyright 2013 Irina Serban. All rights reserved

Chimney Smoke © by Irina Serban

Pin It

READ the story here⬇, or LISTEN to it here⬆

You know, there comes a time when we look back and see all the persons and things we fought the hardest for gathered up in a pile of hurtful memories. We are on a road that leads to the unknown and that scares us.

We have to leave behind a whole life built through laughter sometimes, or through tears, and that splits our hearts with pain. We have to start from scratch. All we’ve taken for granted fades away like the chimney smoke in a surreal mist.

Some people mistake us for a safe harbour where they can come and go whenever the storms of their lives push them on our shores. Some underestimate us; others over evaluate us. Some insult our intelligence; others think we're geniuses. Irrespective of who we are, and what we stand for, someone will always find fault with us, with what we're doing. It's alright! It's not their job to know us. It is ours and ours alone!

People stick labels whenever the reality they have in front of them is not so easily digestible, because that which they perceive as reality is like a mirror reflecting their own insecurities, fears, forgotten dreams, inertia, regrets, envy.

They see the world like a huge house supported by strong, sturdy pillars: each and every one of us. This house has huge windows that give onto a world waiting to be discovered. If some of us start looking out of the windows, eager to go on a quest, the rest will fear us, and they’ll do everything they can to stop us because they think their house will crumble, and the only way to keep it safe is to accept we are pillars. They can't see that we are not the house, but it's builders, architects, interior designers.

So, when you feel like spreading your wings and soaring towards unknown horizons, don't be afraid! Don't make the voice of the fearful your own! Leave behind everything and everybody that drags you down and fills your life with negativity. They are the chimney smoke, which obscures the beautiful mirror of your reality, and like any chimney smoke, they create distorted, frightening shapes, which are not truly there. They'll see a menace in every step you take, but they'll convince themselves that you are no worth, only a fake who stole the strength of the pillars and imitated their upright flight towards the sky. Don't feel guilty for leaving them behind! Your flight will make some wonder if they can grow wings, too, and they'll join you soon. Others won't! It's not your fault! It's not because you didn't stay there long enough to help them. It's because the chimney smoke became their light.

Soar! Be true to yourself, and don’t regret the life you leave behind! Every day is the first day of a new life! It’s up to you how you build it!

© Copyright 2013 Irina Serban. All rights reserved