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The old year is gone ... The family holiday

Turn the last page of the calendar gives a very strong emotion as it is anxious for the new yet to be last.

The emotion comes from the time, over the years, running without stopping and it seems like yesterday he had already celebrated what we call the old year. Cronos does not give us pause, we take into fist and, in our lives, everything is rhythm, scan, season, year, month and day that we regulate and we let it take its inescapable vortex.

I'm sorry to leave the passing year, because I know it was a unique time that does not happen again, but I also know to have lived the best of my ability, making mistakes, lessons received, grief, love, joy , and the best that I could not.

A year well spent is the driving force to the new one, with whom he established a thread of continuity that reassures us that then nothing changes, that our temporal scanning only need to remember better, make plans, to make predictions, draw conclusions and social considerations.

We are good at finding the nuances of our lives between the old and the new year and we see that grow from small, by the complaints of the elderly and by us, middle-aged, that we are no longer children, but that still ooze energy from every pore. To kick the melancholy of everything we use, such as superstition, astrology, fashion apparel, vacation and projects beyond measure. It 's our human way to defend ourselves from the time that passes, we would like but we can not stop and fall back on the feeling that protects us and cuddle with affection, giving us our true essence. What

frighten us and start over, again as if they had the first time and try again, but then it happens that new routes are forcing us to take different routes, which move away from old ones, as may be changes in habits, passions, loves, desires, which will vary, and then we realize that it was necessary to cut back to our time.

Everything we invent to pass the time not deceive ourselves that we know of our past, present and future and that the true size of each is present, the action that makes us build the puzzle of our life. And we should be grateful to this even when it seems unbearable, because belongs to us, is our true size.

In this awareness we can celebrate the great and well then that is a complete red, dinner and fireworks, dancing and mega-parties, not just losing our size.

The only gift that makes us the time is our physical change, the only evidence we have lived and that we must learn to accept, because this is our time.

BLOG HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM "MY SUN"

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Christmas is the best party of the year for young and old, is the only moment in which the family traditionally gathers full, whatever the cost. The meet around a table to share food, ideas, thoughts and opinions, feelings, makes it more together, making us feel better and live well as people who we are next.

The other is not that far away from us, but it is the person to whom we have never given due attention and consideration, is the friend to whom we have expressed our gratitude, our son is, not feel our presence or not we ever told what we love, the person who is highly esteemed but treat them with indifference. The other is those who would die for us and we will ignore it or take advantage. The other is the life that flows around us and we continue to live in our shell. Christmas combines the one hand, firm, makes it sensitive to the world around us, on the other hand allows us to reflect on attitudes to change.

Christmas is a little 'test, where everything is put in discussione.E' this unique opportunity to talk and confess, to seek and express our concerns or our fears, as well as our joys are revealed and our moods. It 'a small slice of life, where is the comparison between adults and children, adolescents and elderly. In a tangle of expectations and needs, small conflicts often occur need for new understandings.

Just sit together, now that you establish different approaches among the guests, with codes of expression and different points of view, where the melancholy of the elderly is mixed with the projects of adults, the boldness of youth to the liveliness of children. All they ask to be heard, to receive attention. The adults lay their due cosider, expecting the best moments from the future. The party is to meet halfway in a mutual exchange where one grows and matures. Around a table is see our interlocutor in the eye and the communication has its own triumph, while consuming the same meal together in the most intimate that there may be.

The family is a basic unit of our society, we in the religious sphere. The family is always kept together, is endeavoring to solve the problems better, you feel part of a group that experiences the value of sharing. And 'our source and our heat. It is true that the family now languishes, it is true, however, that increased the actors, we have the so-called extended family, where more interested in the continuity of a feeling and not necessarily the consanguinity. What is required within the family is feeling and stability, affecting the duration of our prosperity comes. It is an institution in command, but a structure that works needs strong roots and strong, and its function is expressed in time. A good base for the family is the love that each component deep for others. Christmas still gives this opportunity after so many centuries of history, and is fortunate to have a moment so magical to cement those relationships even more difficult and hopeless.

In my Natali is always an important event happened which gave rise to future situations as there were Christmases sad knowing that one day a year can not return relationship ever existed. There were Christmases in which I have proof of who we really cared for me, the falsity of some ties, sterile branches that were cut, of 'affection still wondering despite his age and the inability of others to give me what they lacked. All my Christmases have been characterized by expectations that were regularly circumvented. This lack has strengthened me and now that I welcome around my table, my family Christmas, which has components different from those of the past, for me, a celebration of memories, joy in being able to give to others what I've always avuto.In never tried this exercise and continuous affective discrepancy between what we have in, and that is happening outside of us refine our interaction with others.

The family is a social structure characterized by a system of relationships and emotional relationships that develop among its members are for life. If these reports will produce damage, will remain for life if they will love and serenity, this will warm us forever. We must ensure that the cold does not freeze ever family relationships that otherwise would leave an indelible mark. One way to warm up is still a holiday like Christmas, which commemorates the birth of a child, a son born of a love, so the family is nothing but the source of love and life that will propagate over time, leaving inside us the fire to warm for life.

strength, values \u200b\u200band love that a family gives, and you'll see in time your children are the guardians of this treasure, when in turn through, as in a script, all they have lived in the family , can no longer distinguish whether they are themselves the authors of the script or the followers of something they believe.

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Grihapravesh Nimantran

Cornwall I love

This air Christmas festivities and free time for the holidays year-end brings me back to earth in a unique place in the world: Land's End in Cornwall, which I visited some Long ago, when, for a painting competition I came to London with family in tow, thinking of going to a remote place to go to England to paint. It 's a beautiful region starting from Truro, a town I had known through the television series Poldark and where I visited the famous mines. The drama Poldark has certainly shaken my curiosity led me to this place in search of its history and its beauty. Walking Truro I admired the lace made in plain view in the windows, large flower pots placed at the street lamps and so imposing cathedral style neogotico.Subito later came the turn of Penzance, my goal, where is the school of art known throughout the world, where artists come from everywhere. Here the world seems to stop to make way for a slower pace, more human scale, where there is calm and reflection.

PENZANCE-mysterious places / even more / in a Christmas immaginario. / Cold covers the river, / the wind passes with his towel / and gulls / volo. close on / off I / the colors of the sails. / The boats in the sea / wave waiting / for something to happen. / The geraniums are still there thesis / and you are stroking / oceaniche. by gusts / The Cradle of the Winds, and place the Roman / from another time, / is closes with his coat in the cold, / a homage to the king that was born / in this part of the world. (from F. Baratto)

The view is enhanced by features houses with gardens and small gardens. The flowers here, as in all of Cornwall, are a symbol of beauty but also of culture and civiltà.Viaggiare, on the other hand, it will deal with different cultures and lifestyles different from ours, to learn what can not be taught . St.Ives, on the north coast, is a pretty town with its quaint harbor. In the narrow and steep along the way, hang the side of the road, bowls full of geraniums, petunias and bells that come down from their pots in a shower of petals and pastel tones.

The port, with its boats lying on the shore and in water networks with pendants, donuts and fishing equipment, creates charming and picturesque scenes. Everything here is still, as in a painting. The air is always damp and cold, the wind whistles everywhere from the ocean, bringing flocks of gulls, the real stars of the place.

My heart, however, is kidnapped from Land's End, a place beyond description, one can only speak of his majesty. And 'the last piece of land in Cornwall on the border with the ocean. As soon as you arrive on the high cliff, the wind wraps like a windmill and his whistle, at speed, rumbles from deep sound like a metronome. One has the feeling of being suspended, lifted from the ground. At the same time, the inner silence you hear in contact with a breathtaking view and the solitude of the place, he fills us completely and there rises in flight helices as spirals that run dramatically. An immense and mysterious power will raise huge foamy waves and high and s' crashing loudly on the rocks, covered with gulls, and locked in a continuous motion.

The screeching of the gulls that are lost as sobs fade with long trails of echoes, losing themselves in their rare moments of silence. Many are perched on the rocks in contemplation, and only after a long rest, resume racing on the water in a flight explained, in a game of movement, colors and sounds of the most picturesque I've ever seen. I'm lost in races and falls in the meadows, I crossed a rope bridge suspended in the air and under the sea threatening. I also directed my eyes to the sky and saw clouds which gave different forms as the host of the Hesperides on the bandwagon driven by Aeolus. There, nearby, a large boulder in mo 'to the throne, gave respite to my race and my imagination. I moved here to recall the historical events starting with the Romans, come here in the 55th C with Julius Caesar and of which there are glaring signs. Further north, near the border with Scotland, Hadrian's Wall, which began in 122d.C, the wall built by Emperor Hadrian to protect the borders from enemies from the north. Here also came the Normans in 1066 with William the Conqueror, beginning the Hundred Years War and the War of the Roses. I see there sitting on the throne, the Romans, left the fighting, and then by sea to reach the ships and ground well-equipped warriors ... In the distance I see the home of King Arthur, Camelot Castle and into the vortex of my mind, the imagination is at full gallop. Meanwhile, thick clouds above me as if to touch my hair, with strange shapes and bright colors for the water weight they carry. At my feet a carpet of grass as far as the eye follows the course of the wind waves and somersaults, bearing a rustling still mo 'of lamento.Lo remote place that I thought, is revealed to me in all its glory!

after stunning much I need to return to normal, going down to Marazion where there is the Mount Haven Hotel and there in front of St. Michael 's Mount, dell'IX century Benedictine abbey, which gladdens the sight and gives me the inspiration for a painting. The sky is always moody but often not the case and we do for the many good things going around. Although the hotel is nice and great stuff in place for the view and gives the ability to watch S. Michael is in the hours of high and low marea.Tornata home, Land's End is now with me, bringing in a piece of that land.

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If Jesus was incarnated in 2000 ... :)

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Letter to Baby Jesus Christmas

Dear Jesus,

is a bit 'unusual that you write an adult, you get along with children and all letters that will come from them, I do not know if there is no place for me.

This year, reading letters of many small, sweet children, a great desire came to me.

imagine the face I do to receive my letter, but it can not be more.

Since everyone here think they are omnipotent, I want to ask you, the Almighty ever. Yes, because there have not realized that it was great if you are young. Here, many people believe that you have taken your place and now you're part of history and nothing else.

Dear Jesus, I saw the havoc that is being done in this garden, our Eden, has reduced its badly cut trees, land burned, diggers everywhere, concrete everywhere, polluted sea, fish die or change their routes, air breathable. And what is worse that no one takes notice. E 'became a junk yard, even if you allow me I would say "rubbish". I think that we no longer hope to dispose of our waste, we must think of the aliens, as we are spying from space, they will find a way to take them away, and then transform them into energy.

Here justice is no more, applies the law of the jungle. And then the money, all obsessed with money, they all sell for the money only to be slaves.

For money you make war, yes because there have always believed that they were for peace, however, are for the money. If you earn all the war there, you know Jesus, the hypocrisy. Of course I know the problem! The real reason for war is money. And who cares if the children die or are sick or hungry, there are groups who think about these things, not governi.Il money is not the only idol.

You want to stay young, all young, because this too is a sign of power, the lines are for the weak and the strong are all stretched, but can not laugh, nor rejoice, because the emotions mark and then create cracks in the skin .

E 'sickening to see how it combines all the same to be stretched by way 'of mausoleums, like that of Theodoric in Ravenna.

Another idol is the fun at all costs. Everyone must do everything: how to stop having fun is the time to do this illusion and sometimes even ill-considered projects.

But the worst thing that's happening down here, dear Jesus, is a revolution of sentiment, I think World War III. Do you think the hypocrisy mistake it for diplomacy, the goodness is now called failure, justice is only an opinion, the truth, a possible reality, the duty a stupid pastime against those who do, education is a weakness not knowing how to behave accordingly. A real massacre of feelings! Love is a moment of euphoria as it comes, it passes on. Jesus I'm desperate, here it takes a brave battle to set things like before.

But the tragedy is another, people are no longer willing to return to their previous life, have entered into a vicious circle from which it will come out more. I think we are at a turning point, Jesus, and come back it will be impossible.

You think that someone is aware of the fact that things are really bad? Everybody tries to make its facts, as the protagonist in the novel the "Viceroy" where he states: "Italy is made, now we do our business."

But do not worry; I do not give up, have an incurable optimist with acute tips tragic pessimism, but I am tolerant but sometimes give vent to my anger and I ask you only to help to support this weight that I carry inside. Sometimes I even fear Jesus, even indifference, of addiction to negative situations, how arrogant to offer the other, the offense, when he comes around me when suddenly there is a desert of love . But you know all this already, you know, so why allow it?

Yes, tell me of free will, that man must act without coercion, if only it were wise, and instead appears to have lost the good road, a bit 'what happened to Dante in his Divine Comedy. Since it is not always polished, Jesus, I ask you to enlighten, to help him, protect him, but above all to love him, only with your love will be saved.

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Living in half ...

Do not put yourself with those who are half in love, nor with those who are half-friends ...

Do not read those half-talented ...

Do not live half your life ... Do not die to half your death ...

Do not choose half a solution, and do not put half of the truth ...

Do not dream your dream, half and half does not cling to a hope ..

If you choose silence, do it all the way, and if you express yourself, express yourself through so ...

Never choose the silence to speak or speech to be silent ...

If you're satisfied, expresses Your full satisfaction and do not pretend to be satisfied with half ... and if you refuse, your refusal expresses in full, as is an acceptance half refuse ...

Half ... C is living a life that you have not lived ... It is a word that you have not said, a smile that you have postponed, a love that you do not feel a friendship and you have not shared ...

Half ... It makes you a stranger to those who are closest to you and make them strangers to you ....

Half .. It's lead and not lead, work and do not work, leave and be present ...

Half ... Is that you, when you're not yourself, because you do know who you are ...

Half .. It is when you do not know who you are ...

one you love is not your other half ... it yourself but placed at another location in same time.

Drink half will not soothe your thirsty, and eat half does not satisfy your hunger ...

A path to half do you nowhere, an idea expressed and half do not give you any results ...

Half ... This is the moment of your disability when you are unable to point ... For thou art a man full and not half a man ... You exist to live life fully and not half.

The truth of man lies not in what you watch ... but it is not able to show you ... Therefore, if you really want to know, do not listen to what he says but what he could not express.

; Gibran Khalil Gibran

(Traduit en Français par Ramy G. Ramy, ce 20/9/2010)

Do not sit semi-lovers, does not endorse half-friends, do not read the semi-talented, not half lived Life, nor has half the death, do not choose half a solution, and not stand in the middle of the truth, not dreaming half a dream, do not relate to half-hope, if the silence .. Vasamt until the end, if I spoke .. He talked until the end, Does not fall silent to speak, and speak to silent

if she agrees He expressed satisfaction, not fake a half satisfaction, and if you refuse .. He expressed his refusal, because half of the refusal to accept .. Is the half life Tashha not, which is not taking her word, a smile was postponed, is the love did not reach him, a friendship did not know .. Half is what makes you stranger to the people closest to you, which makes the people closest to you Strangers about you, half is to reach and to contact, to work and do not work, and attend to be absent .. Half is you, when you are not you .. Because you did not know who you are. Half is to not know who you are .. It is not like Waist of the other .. It is you in another place at the same time !! ..

half will not drink Troy Zmok, and half of the meal will not satisfy your hunger, half the road that will connect you to any place, and half will not give the idea of As a result of you .. Half is a moment of your disability and you are not Avadz .. Because you are not half human. You are a person .. Found to live life, not to live half-life

not really rights, including showing you ... Including, but can not reveal it

so
If you want to know do not listen to what he says .... But to no say

" جبران خليل جبران "

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This small light

every year without chasing

small, distant,

in the hope that comes close,

keeps us alive, fills us with joy.

is renewed every year,

always there waiting for us

gestures better, love is not given

laziness of our hearts

and by the continued suffering

our hearts crushed.

There is always hope

that something will change,

that we are not deluded,

that grown-

we love life.

Our hearts are always small

inexperienced, frightened

and in need of care and affection

and expect to be surprised

this annual miracle.

expect the Christmas

is to heal our wounds

to raise hopes,

to succumb to our fears, the

our weaknesses and

to give us a spark of strength and love.

You must cause

that every year this light

leaving a small opening

for our hearts

not remain trapped in the web of life

but grow strong, their

still small and helpless.

F. Baratto

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Air Christmas

My book "Back in the meadows of Avigliano," ends with the words "Christmas" and the reason why I posed at the end is that Christmas in period of which I speak, that my childhood was the "great festival" and was prepared with care. During the year, everything was done in anticipation of Christmas and involving children and adults with a flurry of magic that I found only in fairy tales. It began in early December, when the streets turned the pipers. My grandmother often hosted them by giving them a hot meal and a spare, wine and enough money. Before leaving, we cheered again with a rich and beautiful melody that I listened to sitting on the sacks of corn and my little dog in her arms. Sometimes I give myself the bis and played for me again. Their repertoire performed the best in front of the manger of the neighbor who set up along one wall of her kitchen, next to the furnace. The crib used all our available time.

My grandfather set up in one side of the cellar among the barrels, carboys and bottles on his head while hanging hams, sausages and bacon and all around among the shepherds, Mary and Joseph, a rich line of flashing lights. Just get a visitor was there to take it a must see a scene that I have not seen him since then. Sometimes I would sit there next on the straw to look at the fountain, the shepherds, the grace of Mary, Joseph and the patience of all those people who flocked to the Savior. He was not there, the grandfather of twenty-five laying it down at night, just returned from church. It was a cold, damp cellar, dark, but it gave off heat that vision, I was in the midst of a crowd in there as if there had been real life.

My grandmother, when she went to the mountains for fresh grass, uprooted a tree with roots, a brilliant green, that beautiful cakes decorated with almond paste, the holly, mistletoe, cookies baked and cooled, cells of honey from hives and pull knobs of jelly candy. It was a tasty delight accommodate all those goodies. Those who passed by, he was tempted to do a tasting and grandmother, knowing the habits, every time you come back from spending, bolstered the sweet and ended up missing that Christmas was full.

Towards the end of November, the grandmother scooped me out of bed early in the morning to go to the Novena of the Immaculate Conception and I, wrapped in my coat, gloves, scarf and hat, let me pull up to church on foot. There, while the faithful prayed and sang, I watched spellbound lighted candles to the Virgin Mary and with their glow and glitter, half asleep, I prayed with his grandmother and won when I was about to fall sleep, she squeezed my hand tightly and I understood: was filming I opened my eyes to pray. The output is going to run by John and the baker to buy Raffiolo mostaccioli, fleas and nougat. Christmas Time spent going to visit relatives and the sick in the family but also friends.

Grandma said it was proper to make a bit 'of relief to the sick and did, within two weeks, visiting all the suffering people of the place. Finally there was a moment for me when we went to buy my new clothes and could not miss the red dress or dark green velvet with bows and patent leather shoes and I felt like the protagonist of The Red Shoes.

The real Christmas was in the kitchen of my grandmother, a kitchen so big that when I moved house I designed a similar, just remembering all the time spent in the kitchen full of life and memories.

was not a kitchen but a kingdom, the kingdom of my grandfather, the home cook. We'd both he and I with his white apron with my checkered apron, on a massive chair with a slotted spoon to fry the donuts in hand he had mixed for a whole day. The technique was to drain them in a paper bag where he had placed the bread and bay leaves and only when they are dry, the passed in honey with anicini. The first was zeppole for me that I shared with my dog, the second for his grandfather.

The real Christmas was the scent of anise in the air, when his grandfather rubs it on the sweet and poured coffee. Even today, I put a drop of anise in the coffee, these days, and I remember my grandfather with his habits. Christmas in the air I breathed, I saw the sparkle in the streets, I felt I was living in the scents and the church with all the religious functions which never failed. I have been human contact with the people we met, a Christmas so different from today in our virtual world, then it was important to see and live it, not just once a year for lunch, but always.

The Christmas dinner was the culmination of all work and when was gathered around the table, in the large kitchen of the grandparents had a feast of aromas, flavors and foods. The raffle completed the family reunion in the air and added the scent of tangerines and oranges with the thousands of skins that were as numeretti folders. Then the table becomes a market place in addition to the folders were nuts, roasted chestnuts, hazelnuts, home, dates and nougat and sweets of every sort. In the end I do not remember anything because I fell asleep on the legs of my grandmother poured exhausted from long and tiring day.

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