from one tropic to an other

 

Those who become the slave of habit, who follow the same routes every day, who never change pace,

who do not risk and change the color of their clothes,

who do not speak and do not experience, die slowly.


Those who shun passion,

who prefer black on white, and dotting their "i's" to a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer, that turn a yawn into a smile, that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings, die slowly.


Those who do not turn things on their head, who are unhappy at work, who do not risk certainty for uncertainty, thus to follow a dream, those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives, die slowly.


Those who do not travel, who do not read, who do not listen to music, who do not find grace in themselves, die slowly.


Those who slowly destroy their own self-esteem, who do not allow themselves to be helped, who spend days on end complaining about their bad luck, about the rain that never stops, die slowly.


Those who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions about subjects they don't know, those who don't reply when they are asked something they do know, die slowly.


Let's try and avoid death in small doses, reminding ourselves that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing. Only with ardent patience we reach a wonderful happiness.



Martha Medeiros

(wrongfully allotted to Pablo Neruda)

From Mexico to Chile on a BMW R50/2

 
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Atacama desert (Chile)

Ecuador