Oddycham.. Biorę sobie do brzucha tak za nic - powietrze. Za to, że
jestem, że sobie wędruję. Oddycham, bo mnie kocha powietrze.. Wdech i
wydech, biorÄ™ i dajÄ™.. tego mnie dzisiaj uczy wiatr.
BiorÄ™ od Matki. Od Matki Ziemi, od Matki Ognia, od Matki Powietrze..
Nie zapominam o ukochanej Matce Wodzie, i o Matce Przestrzeni. Niedawno
zupełnie ją poznałam..
The Voice of the Lake –as every fairy-tale – is true, which means it is a story which tells itself. It is an account of a journey, a very conscise description ofwhat took a little/a lot of time: from spring till late autumn of a certain year. Or maybe many years and many lives? Who can tell, since a fairy-tale steps far beyond what can be called personal, individual experience. A fairy-tale isn’t curious about your personal adventures, it takes you over, so that you tell it with what is alive in you, a living story, common for everyone who lives within it.
The fairy-tale has nothing in common with fiction. Imagination – no matter how vivid – is of no use if you don’t have enough humility and perseverance to follow where the story leads. If it guides you to the Forest to seek advice, there’s no other way but to leave home and enter the living Forest, stop there, pay your respect and wait patiently for Its answer. If the story tells you that only in moonlight can you see the truth which in sunlight can hide – you must wait for Full Moon and then discover how to look not to miss the essence.
If only a woman – granddaughter,a woman – daughtercan discover the secret then... you can’t tell it until you become granddaughter and daughter.
It’ll take some time but... a fairy-tale told like this will always live in you, you won’t forget or miss it, you won’t reject or judge it. Because you know that it can only be the way it – through you – told itself.
When you give freedom to the little girl who lives inside you, the one who isn’t ashamed to ask about things which for others are obvious and clear, when she starts following her own paths, you can be certain that she’ll get where nobody invited her. More than that, she will reach places we decided do not exist anymore. And even if they do, we - emancipated, independent women with broad horizons, educated minds, free from prejudice - have nothing to do with them.
MaÅ‚a Dziewczynka szÅ‚a tam, gdzie prowadziÅ‚y jÄ… Drzewa. SzÅ‚a raźnym krokiem, chociaż Drzewa wcale jej nie poganiaÅ‚y, szÅ‚a podskakujÄ…c i taÅ„czÄ…c, bo jej maÅ‚e nóżki straciÅ‚y już caÅ‚Ä… cierpliwość i nie chciaÅ‚y czekać dÅ‚użej. Drzewa też siÄ™ cieszyÅ‚y, że mogÄ… wreszcie rozprostować ramiona zdrÄ™twiaÅ‚e od mrozu i zimowych przeciÄ…gów.
