There were moments when the heart beats pushed hardly the soul house, reminding me that I am still alive and for this I was more grateful so that I could leave back the whole misery I was in. Bullied or abused in spots of racism and hate. Not only once meeting the ugly eyes of rejection, doors brutally closed on the face, accusations of being a damn Romanian, under a fake smile of a „political correctness”. Procedures which require „values and behaviours” being grossly violated behind of doorways. You might say „well, the world is not fair, darling!” and I will answer you back: „well, you are perfect right, my friend!”
Our paths might not be the same but they could relate in some points to the same issues. When I was younger I used to get easily upset by the bad behaviours. And I guess most of us did. Today I understand that behind of all those ugly eyes are big frustrations and lack of love. Indeed, they might still hurt and sometimes they might still kill – innocence, dreams, ideas, lives. Abuse and racism might work as a boomerang but on the way could hurt deadly. Yet the death is part of our path, isn’t it? Another topic to talk on it, but I will leave it now for other time.
While ago I was brutally bullied by a well known healthcare company here in Nottingham. Slapped badly. I could easily lead to a depression as Home Office was at that time another horrible topic to take count in. Yet being advised to bring this sad story to the court, I found myself more relaxed if just ignore that miserably behaviour. Do not ask me how I managed, is just another kind of divinity’s gift as I could move on. What defines us is not others behaviour, but is our true selves. Our kindness, our empathy, our love. A love which doesn’t hurt.
I am writing these lines as an answer to a dear friend. This morning I receive a message from her hurt soul. I read and re-read the confession. There is a lot of sadness between the lines and in a way I empathise perfectly with the situation. I was in those shoes! Yet the sunrises are for all of us, depends on our light of understanding. Leaving the tears to flow. As an expression of a wounded soul. Not being ashamed for this. Crying is part of our way. Is a genetic gift for having the heart saying in hard times. Washing away the dust of ignorance, sadness and prejudices. Then rising stronger, much more stronger, as it has been added another lesson of life to our path. A lesson which enrich our understanding. Remembering the love is the most powerful weapon to carry on and to win the day’s joy and peace. Believing again and again in the humanity. A humanity in which we are a significant part. Yet be a kind one! It will pave with sweet fruits your path…
© Simona Prilogan, Nottingham