You Start Dying Slowly

You start dying slowly

You start dying slowly
If you do not travel,
If you do not read,
If you do not listen to the sounds of life,
If you do not appreciate yourself.

You start dying slowly
When you kill your self-esteem;
When you do not let others help you.

You start dying slowly
If you become a slave of your habits,
Walking everyday on the same paths…
If you do not change your routine,
If you do not wear different colors
Or you do not speak to those you don’t know.

You start dying slowly
If you avoid to feel passion
And their turbulent emotions;
Those which make your eyes glisten
And your heart beat fast.

You start dying slowly
If you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job, or with your love,
If you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,
If you do not go after a dream,
If you do not allow yourself,
At least once in your lifetime,
To run away from sensible advice…

Muere lentamente quien se transforma en esclavo del hábito,
repitiendo todos los días los mismos trayectos, 
quien no cambia de marca, 
no arriesga vestir un color nuevo y no le habla a quien no conoce.
Muere lentamente quien hace de la Television su guia.
Muere lentamente quien evita una pasión,
quien prefiere el negro sobre blanco y los puntos sobre las “íes” a un remolino de emociones,
justamente las que rescatan el brillo de los ojos,
sonrisas de los bostezos, corazones a los tropiezos y sentimientos.
Muere lentamente quien no voltea la mesa cuando está infeliz en el trabajo,
quien no arriesga lo cierto por lo incierto para ir detrás de un sueño,
quien no se permite por lo menos una vez en la vida, huir de los consejos sensatos.
Muere lentamente quien no viaja, quien no lee,
quien no oye música, quien no encuentra gracia en sí mismo.
Muere lentamente quien destruye su amor propio, quien no se deja ayudar.
Muere lentamente, quien pasa los días quejándose de su mala suerte o de la lluvia incesante.
Muere lentamente, quien abandona un proyecto antes de iniciarlo, no preguntando de un asunto que desconoce o no respondiendo cuando le indagan sobre algo que sabe.
Evitemos la muerte en suaves cuotas, recordando siempre que estar vivo exige un esfuerzo mucho mayor que el simple hecho de respirar.
Solamente la ardiente paciencia hará que conquistemos una espléndida felicidad.

Mistakenly, this poem has been attributed to Pablo Neruda, but in fact, here, I found that Brazilian writer Martha Medeiros is the author of Muere Lentamente.  The translation above is not exact to the original, so I added the original in case you speak Spanish and want to read it in its original form.

This poem touched my heart and so I wanted to share it with you.  May you continue to shine your heartlights and stay alive with wonder.

Shine On!

xo

Are You A Wild Pixie?

I feel in every girl there lives a spirit,

a wild pixie, that if let go,

would run and dance in grassy fields

until the end of the world. 

And when that girl grows up,

that pixie hides,

but it’s always there,

peaking out behind old eyes and reading glasses,

laughing, waiting,

to one day dance again. ~ atticus

A friend sent me this photo and I just knew I had to share it with you.  For how many of us remember the wild pixie inside and let her out to play often?  Or do we hide her away?  What stops us from sharing her again with the world?  It does us no good to keep her hidden and to not allow her the freedom to be a part of ourselves.

So today, let that little pixie out!

Let her laugh, smile and hug!

Allow her to…

Shine On!

xo