you have no idea how hard i’ve looked for a gift to bring you.
nothing seemed right.
what’s the point of bringing gold to the gold mine,
or water to the ocean.
everything i came up with was like
taking spices to the orient.
—it’s no good giving my heart and my soul because you already have these
so i’ve brought you a mirror.
look at yourself and:
you will eat,
you will laugh at stupid things,
you will stay up all night just to see what it feels like,
you will fall painfully in love,
you will have babies of your own,
you will doubt and regret and yearn and keep a secret.
you will get old and decrepit,
and you will die,
exhausted from all that living.
that is when you get to die.
cómo lograste hacerme
y y llorar que ya empieza la fiesta, sentir
cómo lograste hacerme feliz
lejos de mi país que aplasta y apesta?
cómo lograste en
tu voz encender
al poeta de ayer, de tu españa quebrada?
y dime cómo la propia mujer
que yo quiero se fue detrás de tus palabras. … no apagues tu voz
people are just as wonderful as sunsets if you let them be. //
when i look at a sunset,
i don’t find myself saying,
“soften the orange a bit on the right hand corner.”
don’t try to control a sunset.
i watch with awe as it unfolds. //
from carl r. rogers × ×
on becoming a person: a therapist’s view of psychotherapy