Thirty-seventh and Thirty-eighth Mandalas – Year End Mandalas

Thirty-seventh and Thirty-eighth Mandalas – Year End Mandalas

These were the last two Mandalas of 2016. I finished them few weeks ago, but I struggled with the search of meaning for a while.

Sometimes I wonder what really exists, what is the meaning of what I do and if everything needs to have a purpose or being successful.

If I left these Mandalas as just drawings in my private sketchbook on my desk, would they really exist and a have a meaning? In today’s world, does anything exist or have a purpose when it is not shared?

Ocean of ideas, thoughts, stories, projects or drawings that they did not live or go Beyond the daydreaming phase, do they have a purpose? One day I open my eyes and years, decades have passed and every ideas, thoughts, stories, project or drawings only existed in my dreams becoming arid and sad as desert of meaningless regrets and wasted time.

I do what I can, in the way I can and at the right pace for me and even if I might want to be different and I might dream something different, I need to live accepting who I am and to be grateful for my life with lots of apparently meaningless and mediocre moments and less than talented hands or minds, leaving my soft footprints on the sand that will be washed away at the first wave of a rising tide.




The Thirtieth Mandala and the Thirty-first Mandala- A Picture Mandala and a Fragmented Mandala

The Thirtieth Mandala and the Thirty-first Mandala- A Picture Mandala and a Fragmented Mandala

Should there always be a purpose behind our activities?

Should there always a meaning in our being here and now?

Can it just be enough to draw something without looking for a deeper meaning beyond the enjoyment of drawing it?

Can it just be enough to write something without trying to make any sense out of it beyond the fact that we felt like writing some random thoughts?

Sometimes I feel inspired, and sometimes I think is all an illusion. sometimes I feel like I’m finding the way to manage this anxiety that in some way colours my life and that I can be something different that my anxious self, sometimes I feel fragmented, like there are fragments of dreams, thoughts, stories and poems never voiced, of future, past and present, fragments of me, which do not seem to make sense together, but then things that I did not consciously put together if I do not give up and I continue to try to piece everything together with patience and time a meaningful  picture arises, a picture I could not see or even imagine before.

This is a bit what happened a bit with this two Mandalas. One had been left unfinished for quite some time and the other one I had just finished it but I could not understand what it represented for me, what made me drawing in it and colouring it in the way I did, nothing was emerging from it. Then I’m not sure why, I looked at my previous drawings in the sketchbook and I stopped on the one that I left unfinished and I started to add colours to it. Eventually I realized that the two Mandalas together had a sense for me. That sometimes things they are not clear on their own they need something else. Like this two Mandalas needed each other to be complete for me.

And this is a bit what happened with a photograph of some clouds I took some time ago and some random thoughts I wrote recently, that for me they kind of fit together.

So here my random thoughts, the two Mandalas and the photograph.

‘Clouds high above,

pink, purple, grey and blue,

low on my head

can I touch them if I dare enough?

Clouds like cotton candy,

endlessly changing, coming and going,

Can I grasp them if I try hard enough?

No clouds, they are all gone, now.

Have I waited too long?

Have I dreamed too high?

Have I not dared enough?

Or was just simple fate?

Was it something that was never meant to be?’

The Mandala of Fragments
The Picture Mandala

Twenty-third Mandala – Getting un-stuck.

Twenty-third Mandala – Getting un-stuck.

This mandala and this post were difficult because I didn’t feel I had something to say or that I was particularly inspired while drawing, so I was a stuck in a place of self-judgement, then I decided that I had to let go of my self-consciousness, of my need to be taken seriously and not laugh at, that I had to take the risk to look like a “fool”, of not being understood, of looking like an imperfect average person that can write with incorrect grammar confused thoughts and stories, can draw skewed lines and average, not-inspiring even ugly Mandalas.

Sometimes I feel I have something to say, sometimes I feel like what I draw is beautiful, other times I feel stuck with not inspiration but I continue doing it, because there is always some lights that can shines brightly through an average non-inspiring drawing or posts, because if I only write or draw something when I think I am inspired or I can do something good I might end up questioning all the times what I do and I will eventually let the fear of what others might think of what I do dictate my choices and erase all the enjoyment I feel while writing or drawing.

In the middle of lots of average moments, writings and drawing a light can start shine anytime, and I cannot know if and when this will happen, for this reason, I will keep going and I will continue to fight against my natural tendency to compare what I do with others and to judge myself and my efforts and just do what I wish to do, write or draw for the sake of doing them, for the pleasure they give me, and why not for this week just to get un-stuck.

Why this Blog

As a compassionate warrior, I close my eyes and I go inside, two words emerge: Wisdom and Open-heart, but in the background there is another one which I left silent and is at the heart of everything and is Trust. I embrace my vulnerability and show myself without pretense with an open heart and an open mind. I rely on the wisdom I discover in me, in the others and in life around me and I’m learning to trust again myself, life and the mysterious wonder that is this universe and this present moment.

As a compassionate warrior, I realise that there cannot be joy without suffering, creation without errors and failures, light without darkness and that I need to face life and its challenges with a sense of lightness and compassion for myself and others. I realise that I cannot connect with others without risking, without showing up honestly and fully, even if it is terrifying as being vulnerable is scary because things could go differently than what we would like and what we love maybe will not be loved as much.

For a longtime I avoided myself and my thoughts in the noise and busyness of the daily life because when I looked inside I could only see a big black hole, in recent years, when avoiding myself stopped working (every coping strategy seems to fail at some stage), I started to look for the silence and in that silence (not only in terms of sounds but also of actions) I started to look inside, once again for a long time I could only see blackness, but then some light started to break through the solid blackness and I started to feel energy flowing from inside outside and from outside inside, because it is a two-way channel from the mind to the heart, from the heart to the mind, from the center to the periphery and from the periphery to the center, from words, to beliefs and to action and fate, from fate to actions to beliefs to words.

As a compassionate warrior, I am having the courage to share some of my own words and my creations on this new blog even if a bit scared about the critics or the lack of interest, because they are words and creations that came to me and there is no expectations attached or desire other than write or create them and bring them outside my mind into the world.



My insomnia is a sickness of the heart. It is the sadness that I escape during the day, but that I cannot escape during the dark hours of the night, when everything around me is silent, naked and suspended. It takes me by surprise while my guard is down and I am most vulnerable, it shows its ugly face in my dreams and it wakes me up in the dark and in the silence that feels overwhelming and desperate in its absolute hollowness and absence of distractions. It wakes me up, it makes me restless and edgy but without the will to do something valuable with myself too often I end up trying to avoid it by feeding my silly “addictions” that helps me temporarily to numb the feeling, to silence the obsessive thinking. Everything can become an addiction and turn into poisonous and destructive habits, including reading, when it takes over the necessary rest, or eating when is mindless and extreme.

During the day, I escape the sickness by immersing myself mindlessly in the busyness of the daily life activities: some apparently important and other menial and boring. They make me feel better than facing the frustration and sadness of living a life that is not meeting my deepest and truest needs and wants that are instead left unheard and untold, locked in the deepest corner of my heart.  It takes courage to bring the deepest needs and wants in the open air. It takes courage because if I let them out I know that I might have to change my life, break my false sense of balance and safety and possibly let go of something I have built for years without any guarantee of success or happiness. And for now it seems that I am not so brave at all.

So I keep going during the day and barely surviving the nights. I add one day after another to the life that is gone, to the life that is at my back and that is now already my history, and at the same time, I take away a day at a time from the time that is left of the life that is still in front of me, for me, to live. And in this way, I waste my precious time, which is the only treasure I really have and that I don’t even know if it will last another hour, day, year, another decades or more. This is a fool way and the night sickness is trying to wake me up from my numbness, from my mindless living, but I still stay deaf to its messages.

My night sickness is the expression of the deepest sadness of my true self who is calling for my attention, for me to be courageous and make the changes that can free my spirit from this vicious circle of mindless tired daily living and insomniac nights.

My night sickness is a call for purpose and meaning above security and safety.

Sleep will continue to desert me, peace and joy will not come to me, if I don’t listen to the wordless and soundless scream of my spirit that tells me to follow the path of my heart, which is different for everybody and which nobody else can show me, because I need to create it for myself.


In the Audience.

I sit in the middle of the audience, I’m only one of hundreds/thousands/millions that comes regularly to watch the show, to listen and to be enriched by the talent of the persons on display.

I’m as necessary and as exceptional as them, without me, without each of the persons in the audience the talent of those persons would be like not existent, because their talents need an audience while they are alive or even after their deaths as happened so frequently in the past for now very famous artists.

We live in a society that exposes us continuously to the exceptional talents of few, that glorifies the single at the expense of all others, incites all of us to compete against each other and to laugh callously to those who are not talented but are either delusional about their abilities or desirous of  a moment of glory at any cost. We don’t realise the damage that we do to ourselves and the cost of the fleeting pleasure of those unkind laughs, because those spiteful laughs are directed at us, because we are like those normal persons without exceptional talents we are those persons that are just normal. This continuous search of the dream is part of our inherent unhappiness and frustration. We have been raised believing that if we work hard we should be able to reach everything, that success is the compensation for talents and greatness, that it is important to follow your dream because people that follow their dreams do exceptional things, achieve exceptional greatness and if we don’t reach any big success then we obviously feel like failures. But all this is a big fat lie. There are many people that reach success are not talented or particularly great, if we were governed by great and talented people that world would not be in such a desperate conditions. Ant let’s not forget that in today’s world, there is not talent without an audience, there are probably billions of people that have died unknown not because they were not talented or exceptional but because they didn’t find an audience for their greatness even post-mortem.

I’m starting to like being the on sitting in the audience. I’m starting to understand that there is immeasurable  value in being the listener, the reader, the observer, the person able to appreciate somebody else efforts. By finally understanding this, I’m giving myself permission to simply be my normal special self, so that I can stop being frustrated, envious and unable to appreciate the beauty created by other because I wished it was me who was the talented great one creating something that other can appreciate.

Comfortably and happily sitting in the audience does not mean that I’m giving up in a creative process but more that I’m embracing it without expectations that someday they will give me recognition and simply enjoying the process in itself of creating, writing or drawing something to share or not to share.