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Saturday, October 15, 2011

Aleph and Forgiveness

 I read Paulo Coelho the way I read Sweet Valley High and Sweet Dreams back in the day. A month ago I read "Aleph," Coelho's latest novel. A novel that reveals much about him without the usual rants. Albeit, a lot of excuses and defensive remarks. We know, Paulo, you are a faithful husband. There was no need to put in every other line the obvious. (Evil smiley here) (Another cute smiley here)

For neo writers who want to be as famous as him as a writer, Paulo advised not to write about who and what you are not. Or something like that. Don't entertain people, rich or famous or both though they are, who come to you and ask you to write their great story. (Unless you are that writer who earns a living by writing biographies like that teacher I know. Now, getting it from Paulo, I realize how cheap that job really is.)

From Aleph I realize why Paulo writes about the philosophy woven into the fabric of magic, spirituality, journeys, and destination. He writes about the person he was and is meant to be.

Paulo Coelho is one writer Leo Tolstoy would have embraced and kissed. The degree of infectiousness that Coelho puts in his writings is so high it spreads like an epidemic. We can all ask the hundreds of million who read his books.

In a world where people no longer turn the other cheek, we find minty-fresh bound leaves that speak of forgiveness:

“I forgive the tears I was made to shed,
I forgive the pain and the disappointments,
I forgive the betrayals and the lies,
I forgive the slanders and intrigues,
I forgive the hatred and the persecution,
I forgive the blows that hurt me,
I forgive the wrecked dreams,
I forgive the stillborn hopes,
I forgive the hostility and jealousy,
I forgive the indifference and ill will,
I forgive the injustice carried out in the name of justice,
I forgive the anger and the cruelty,
I forgive the neglect and the contempt,
I forgive the world and all its evils.

“I also forgive myself. May the misfortunes of the past no longer weigh on my heart. Instead of pain and resentment, I choose understanding and compassion. Instead of rebellion, I choose the music from my violin. Instead of grief, I choose forgetting. Instead of vengeance, I choose victory.

“I will be capable of loving, regardless of whether I am loved in return,
Of giving, even when I have nothing,
Of working happily, even in the midst of difficulties,
Of holding out my hand, even when utterly alone and abandoned,
Of drying my tears, even while I weep,
Of believing, even when no one believes in me.”


To THOSE who have hurt me and THOSE who are atill hurting me, I forgive you for all the things the world will not allow me to forgive in you, and for all the things you think you did not do to hurt me, and for everything that you did, but did not know that hurt me.

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