This year this is the only thing I have felt relating to my past lives: that same emptiness that will never, ever, go away, as the ones that pass to the other side never return as they were, and what we lost, is lost. But it is an emptiness that year after year has gradually become smaller, as I learned to appreciate the little things we have, to which the majority of people are oblivious. Well, in reality we have it all. We have life, we have peace, we have dear people who want us by their side. I see people coming and going searching for the perfect presents for their relatives, but I wonder how many of them have realized they themselves are the best potential present. And I say potential because many people will think at reading these lines: “Yes, I do know”. Possibly many of them know, really know. But many others don’t. Others will attend their family reunions as another obligation, with fake smiles and the only wish that time will go by quickly, without realizing that is the most valuable time they will ever have. As they think wars only affect to distant countries and children that turn up in television as an enticement to make donations to charity organizations, they don’t value the presence of their loved ones or the peace we luckily enjoy now. They can’t imagine that some time in the past their sons or husbands had to spend Christmas Eve in the front, fighting a war that wasn’t even their war, immerse in a violence that had no sense, as there can’t be violence with sense.
Ignorant to that reality, the reality of wars that can repeat themselves in any given moment, the reality of reincarnation, these people keep celebrating the birth of Someone who came to the world to tell us it was time to love each other, with vane gifts and more bloodshed of innocents, just the opposite to what He wanted. When your eyes finally open, it is hard to accept it, even harder to understand it. As I already explained when I spoke of my Cathar soul, it is during Christmas when my religious feelings (the few I have left) get confronted with a reality that has nothing to do with the real Christmas spirit. People don’t know what they have. People don’t understand what real Love is, what real Peace is. It was clear to me on the afternoon of the 24th, when the mysterious harp boy crossed his path with mine and presented me with a melody that reached my soul full of holes. Probably only when he dies he will know how much Love he transmitted to me that day, how much a simple gesture like playing the harp in the street, without expecting anything in exchange, except perhaps an applause and a couple of coins, can mean. That is a real gift, those we generously give from the bottom of our hearts, those that apparently have no value at all. For a moment I was Katrina in a dark night in Prague in the middle of a war, completely alone, missing the only person that had ever shown any interest in my well-being, that German soldier who first stole my heart and then my life. In those times I lacked so many things that that melody would have been enough for me to be happy, to be able to dream about a better world and a peace that never came.
We are immensely fortunate to be here, alive and in peace, but very few really know…