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Hope everyone is having a great Saturday today! Unfortunately, everyone has days when they are upset. I am no exception. Today’s post was inspired by clicking the “Inspire me!” button. It perfectly fit to how I am feeling at the moment, so I wanted to share:

Italo Calvino said: The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts. Describe the ghosts that live in this house: Image credit: “love Don’t live here anymore…” – © 2009 Robb North – made available under Attribution 2.0 Generic

Life is never perfect. No matter what happens, it is easy to stress out about something. Anxiety or depression may cloud our judgement, causing us to lapse further into unending depths of despair. The phantoms of our lives lie in wait, sapping every bit of energy until we can no longer fight.

“But ghosts aren’t real!” You might think. “There is no way they can be since I can’t see them!”

Ghosts are most definitely real. They love to hide. They love to spring a trap when you least expect it. They thrive in the misery of our mortal existence. As long as they are around, you will never feel positive again.

That is, until we learn how to breathe. Step aside for a moment. Close your eyes, focus on the present, and let everything go. Whatever is causing these negative feelings suddenly seems so trivial, doesn’t it? Life is not about those piles of bills or the fact that you missed your best friend’s birthday party. You are here. You are alive and well. The mistakes of yesterday are not meant to be dwelt on today. It is here that ghosts will not thrive. Cast them out and go forth renewed.

Therefore, a house with an enlightened soul is the one which has the greatest story to tell.

I will end with a short poem, describing the horrors of the fictitious house in the picture above:

Broken in

Deathly grin

To what darkness

are you akin?

 

Please don’t bless

with more stress

Why can’t you leave

Me a mess?

 

Search

Search for me

A new home

In which I am alone

 

Bleeding

but not dead

The blighted color

is not red

 

Perhaps

I am not here

But immobile from fear

of that which is near

 

Pink petals

cover me

in a wave

of synchronicity.

 

This is what I see

No ghost living free

Under the great tree

of everlasting tranquility.

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