Calitos Way's blog: "Road Less Traveled"

HER VIEW OF ME Young man, you have often gone poaching in the wood of love and many girls have lets themselves be caught in your arms. But, when you boasted to your admiring friends about your successes, I have felt sickened, because I am not just game existing for your pleasure and you would make me think that you and your friends are no more than sad little hunters of girls. I know that chasing the girl you desire gives you a sense of power. When you catch her, that girl who may be forcing herself to follow you, you are perhaps, when you take her for yourself, taking her from somebody else. That other person msy be your friend and he may be dreaming, without even knowing it, that she is keeping herself for him like a rose on the rose-tree, not some cut flower. The wood of my heart is very tender - as delicate as that of a young tree in springtime. But you amuse yourself by scratching your name into my bark and you do not even know how deeply the knife penetrates, making the sap flow from my injured heart. I have often defended myself agaist your attacks. Seeking refuge in my tower, pulling up the drawbridge. I am ofter afraid of your actions and your words trouble me even more. They are able to cross even the deepest moat and bring you back to me when I do not want you. You assure me that we have to seek pleasure and enjoyment. But I am not you plaything and you are not mine and love is not just a game. Pleasure may not be a forbidden fruit, but it is a fruit that has to ripen before it is picked and we should not steal from other people's orchard, even if we have an accomplice to let us in by night. You have often told me that we have to learn how to love, trying every means at our disposal, but it is wrong to think of girls as shoes to be tried on your feet, one after another --- you, laughing with delight, until you find the right size and shape. Nor is my body a piano keyboard for you to practice you scales. So that later you can use another piano for the recital of your life. You tell me that the greatest proof that I can give of my love is to open for you the doors of my secret rooms. You are right, of course, I know that! But, in the meantime, you say again and again you love me and you want to open them yourself and call for the keys. But if you really loved me, you would put out your hand, tenderly and cautiously, gently seeking my hand and I would give them to you and we would walk together, exchanging thoughts, taking about you and me. About people and about the world. We would vist the country of our lives together and patiently strip off the covering that conceals our two hearts. We would do this as soon as we came to know each other and long before we decided to make out two lives one. But in the meantime, you tell me so many things and you are really wasting your time, because all others say the same thing. It would be better for you to say honestly: " I am longing for you." I would understand, because I have often longed for you to come. Some misty or stormh evening my doors have been halk open and I have been waiting and looking for you and you would have been able to gather all the honey you desired and would not have had enough love in my heart to find strength to send you away. But you are aware of my dream, my secret and my hard struggle. You know that the door of life has been locked in my body by the fingers of nature and not just chance. Although others - not I - have smiled at the idea, I would like the first to cross the threshold to be the one my heart has chosen. I would like to know, young man: surely you understand me! But you know as well as I: I am no stringer than any other girl and so I need you very much - as much as you need me. I need to look at you, to be able to admire you and to be astonished when you I discover your hidden riches. I also need you to look patiently for mine, for I am often afraid that what I bring to our union will not be enough to makethe man who will learn to lbe me rich. I need you to tell me your thoughts, your feeling and your plans, so that I will not be agraid to tell you mine, because I know that there can be no love between those who keep secrets from each other! I need to discover your strength, so that I may learn that my gentleness is not weakness, but a necessary gift if your harshness is to be tempered. I need to prove that you have a heart beating in your breast by seeing in your eyes tears you are not afraid to let flow. I need to see you fight to defend the rights of others, so that I can be sure that youw will also fight in the future for your love and for your own children. I also need you to look at me and be for y side sometimes, so that I may know that I am more than someone you seek when you are bored. I also need you to invite me to dance with you from time to time, so that I may know that my body is not just a dry brach to be thrown away, but a supple and living reed. To expirience the joy of holding your warm hand in mine and the hapiness of feeling your arm resting on my shoulder, so that I may know that young's mens arms are not just straps set to catch us. and finally, young men, I need your friendship. Just as you need ours. But I do not need you to tell me you love me. I do not need to hear those insincere words, because I may find it difficult to believe that they are true when the love I am waiting for comes and says them to me.

Living is Loving (Part 1) Friend, sit down and listen to my story. Listen with all your heart! If your heart is not open you will only hear the sound of words but will not taste of their flavour. I was 20 - or 24, or 25, what does it matter! I wanted to live, but did not know how to live or why I was living. I was searching. My search was very painful. I seemed to be walking through a desert full of mirages. I was hungry! My body was hungry. My living flesh was like a thousand gaping mouths, eager to swallow even the tiniest fragments of pleasure found on the way. My spirit was hungry. I fed it with all the words I heard utterd, all the ideas I could find in books and images and pictures of every kind. My head was like a beehive, buzzing with activity but producing no honey. Sometimes, in the darkness of my activity, I was aware of a light shining outside my buzzing head, my body and my soul, a long way ahead of me, somewhere at the end of this world and the beginning of a new universe. But as soon as the light came to me, it was obscured by the clouds. All that was left to me was my dream and that led me on. But dreaming is not really living and the storm soon broke. My dream was shattered and I was left naked on my bed with nothing to protect me. I was like a man burning with love, without a woman to be the object of that love. I was thirsty! my heart was thirsty. Deep within me, in the mysterious depths of my being, far deeper than my flesh and blood, I was thirsty. Trembling and uneasy, I was aware of my infinite thirst and of infinity. Like a fire burning in an unfathomable pit, consuming me and setting light to everything that lived. I went on living, but the question remained: How can I go on if I do not know how to live or why I am living? My life was a great parcel passed from one person to another, too heavy to carry and without an addressed destination, an object used by clowns to make people laugh. No one, least of all I, knew what to do with it.So I went on. I went through many parks and gardens. I walked over the lawns and gathered the flowers of pleasure. But I did not find hapiness. I caught a fleeting glimpse of it once or twice and tasted it for a moment or two, but it was lke a sweet melting on my palate and leaving me still hungry..... We are so made that hunger and thirst are never satisfied. That is our greatness and also our agony. I am quite certain of this. As soon as we think we have satisfied them, they are reborn and live even more vigorously within us. They even go ahead of us, moving so fast that the chase, which we can not give up, exhausts us. But we never catch up with them. We are insatiable hunger and unquenchable thirst. We die when our hunger and thirst die. I was hungry. I was thirsty. but did not know what food and what drink I needed. Nothing is worse than being hungry and not knowing bread. Nothing is worse than being thirsty and not knowing wine. I wondered who would set me free from my torture. A friend told me: "You will not find your way if you continue to look inside yourself. Go outside yourself! If you stay in the harbour you will never know the infinity of the ocean". Another friend said to read "The Book". I opened the Bible sometimes and found it easy to respect the words in it, because they struck me as beautiful, but their mysterious content escaped me. They were like grains of wheat with such a thick husk that I could not reach the life-giving germ inside. A third friend urged me to find someone who would explain the meaning of words to me: "Someone who has eaten the germ and lives from it may be able to tell about the life those words gibe in the language of today. Then he said: "Go and see The Sage. Every one says he speaks like books and that his words are like seeds in the hearts of those who hear them. In good soil they bear much fruit. So I decide to go see The Sage. I will tell you about my search, my doubts and my difficulties. It is a search I have made only with my heart - not with the whole of my life. I will also tell you what The Sage told me --- his words.

MY BEAUTIFUL LOVE My beautiful love as yet unknown you are living and breathing somewhere far away or perhaps quite close to me, but still I know nothing of the threads that form the fabric of your life or the pattern which makes your face distinctive. My beautiful love as yet unknown I would like you to think of me tonight as I am thinking of you -- not in a golden dream that is far from my real self, but as i really am, a living person that cannot be invented without distorting the truth. My beautiful love as yet unknown I love you already although your face is hidden. If I can make myself richer now will be able to enrich you and I want to learn how to give rather than always to take. When you enter my life and I recognise you, I do not want to take you like a thief. I want to receive you like a treasure and let you give yourself to me. My beautiful love as yet unknown. I want to pray for you tonight because you already exist, because I already want to be faithful to you and because you are already having difficulties and possibly because of me. I am preparing myself for you and you are preparing yourself for me. I hope with all my heart that in the future I will be your sun and you will be my ocean, that I will warm you in my rays and you will wash me in your water. Our bodies will be grafted together and we will give to the world what it needs most of all - the strength of our love that it would lack without us. My beautiful love as yet unknown we have to wait for one another now. We know how painful it is for lovers who do not know each other's face to go on waiting for each other! But we also know that, although we are still apart, out two lives are looking and calling for each other. And I am also sure that, in the darknessof our longing, God's longing and his Light are present. Our Father who is in heaven is looking at us, my love, and loving us. And He is saying now as He has been saying for all eternity: "If that is what they really want, they will be one in the future." That is His dream as our Father and that will be our decision as His children>

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.