Бесплатный фрагмент - The Many Faces of Love

From the author

LOVE AND VALENTINE’S DAY

At one point in my life, I began to write fairy tales for adults. I wanted to pour out my feelings on paper, and say that fairy tales are not only for children but also an adult can find answers and tips there in difficult times. It was a push from inside, which a person is not able to resist.

The perception of the many faces of love was confirmed by the variety of judgments and experiences of people over the centuries. And all of them were right. She is all that is said and written about her. Each person sees, feels and hears in his own way, but certainly he knows how to love. I understand that now. But then I had nostalgia for what might have been. It seemed to me then that this is somewhere, but not with me. I was feeling down. And without even realizing, I started my search for love. Several years have passed. There was a lot of mental work, many discoveries, many insights and tears. And now I can say, there is always love in everyone. I know that for sure. But everyone has his own reasons not to notice her, not to feel her subtle presence. She won’t call or fumble for a sleeve, she is patient and wise, because she is life by herself. A man himself should make an effort and open the door to his heart. Everyone at one time, because of the painful circumstances, decides to close this magic door and hide the key so that it can never be found. I also had reasons to think that I didn’t love anyone, and that love passed me because I couldn’t remember where I hid the treasured “golden key”, and then spent a lot of time and energy to open the door, soundly closed once. This path is like a journey in good fairy tales, where the hero walks through the woods, meeting both danger and obstacles, and necessarily help and support.

Each person feels the need for warmth and light inside, which warms and makes life filled and bright, because, having experienced once, the memory of this remains forever. This feeling is stored in the memory of our soul. Without it, It is impossible to appear in this world and it is impossible to leave it. But the task of a person is to recall this state, to learn how to stay in it as long as possible here on Earth, among his near and dear ones, among those who we meet every day. We are surrounded by love, I know it for sure, even if we don’t notice her, even if we are waiting for her global manifestations, but never see small everyday evidence. Love has many faces. She can manifest herself in a small, daily stream of labor and care, and in the fireworks of passion, and in the fountain of inspiration, and in the rain of gratitude, and in the power of respect and understanding.

I am writing this on Valentine’s Day. Someone recognizes this holiday, someone does not. But in any case, this day reminds us of the main thing from which our life is woven — love. On this day I am alone at home. Winter is raging outside. Husband is working in emergency mode. Children and friends are far away. Nevertheless, I feel good and joyful. My heart is full of love for them and for everyone who is dear to me and important. We meet a lot of people in life and love brings us all together, as the power of God’s manifestation, so that we remember and feel this blessed state of mind.

10 YEARS LATER…

I watch myself and wonder. The idea that I could be a writer appeared in my head as if from nowhere, like a bright ray of insight. The first collection of fairy tales “The Many Faces of Love” was written long ago and in fact was written into the drawer. At that time, it seemed to me that this was a one-time action, as if the heavens had opened slightly and a message came to me. When I read about the creative process of others, their memories, I did not even imagine that this might apply to me too. What is for sure, is that when a person is not completely familiar with himself, he has many things to discover.

I was surprised when the desire to pour the idea on paper was very persistent. This flow was difficult to contain. When fairy tales were born with such intensity as peas poured from a pod, I clearly felt a stream that just poured into me. I didn’t rule or rearrange anything. I left everything as “came”, for me it was important, as an act of primevalness without internal censor. This is the naturalness how the nature manifests: crookedly, askew — and this is her power.

Then, when it was all over, I could not appropriate the tales to myself and acknowledge that I am the author. As if someone gave it to me. Many years later, after a long internal work, I was able to relieve all my fears and lack of self-esteem, and finally accepted my own ability to read in space and simulate information into words. And again I was able to hear and write. New ideas fulfil life with inspiration. I realized that we, humans are very much alike. And what helps me can be of a help to someone else. The idea to share it with the world has become persistent, and only in 10 years I understand the essence of the message for me. Let it help someone else. I give what I can to the world with joy and love. After all, creativity is a huge force that changes this reality.

Spring 2020 | With love Natalia Yatsenko

Love

Once upon a time, there was a table, where all these different necessary and important, pleasant and unpleasant, beautiful and ordinary things lived. On the left, next to the books the candle lived. It was an ordinary candle, and her life was completely unremarkable. She watched the world go by without much emotion. Chatted with the dust about the latest news. Neighbor books changed all the time, each tеlling about its own. The philosopher pen always mumbled something in thought, lying in its case. The pencils in a glass vividly argued about the beauty of the world and the importance of their color. The paper was proud, demonstrating its importance. In general, the table life went on as usual — affairs, expectations, debates… Only in the tender soul of the candle, pristine peace and some regret prevailed. She said to herself: “Something is happening to everyone, but nothing interesting is happening to me.” Life seemed to her somehow useless, meaningless and monotonous.

Next to the paper and pen, there lived a completely inconspicuous and simple box with matches. He knew that, in spite of his external simplicity, great power was enclosed in him. Sometimes he met a wise old woman — the smoking pipe, that lived in special apartments. They could talk. She told him that someone was transforming this world with external beauty stretched out in eternity, someone was ripening internally for a bright and unforgettable moment of an extravaganza, which was decorating the world, someone saw this transformation in the service, and someone was preserving and increasing greatly wisdom. Every path has its own destiny. Someone found it, saw it, but someone only has to. There is nothing worthless in this world. The box was patient, because he knew for sure that the best in his life was ahead.

And then one evening came. The last ray of sunlight slid out the window. Cheerfully said goodbye to everyone, wishing good night. Soon dusk washed over everyone with a dark blue gas blanket, and silence reigned on the table. Suddenly, a man entered the room. He flicked the switch unsuccessfully several times, and went to the table. He sat in a comfortable chair, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. The situation was unusual. No light in the lamp — no work. But the man had an idea and it couldn’t wait. He felt for the box with matches, lit the last match and — a miracle happened. The light flashed brightly and slowly swam to the candle, dispersing the darkness and monotony. Before she could think, the fire touched her. The candle could not believe that something was finally happening to her. Oh, it was happening to her. The soul was melting with warmth and happiness. Delight and light were emanating from her in such a strong flow. And she understood — all that was before — was the expectation, everything that is happening now — is life and pleasure, all that will come afterward — is joy and satisfaction from what it was. All that she needed now and always was fire, tender and passionate, caressing and promising. Only he filled her life with meaning and harmony. They merged in a single dance, in a single rush. She gave, and he took and again gave everything that he had, if only she were happy. He didn’t even suspect that life could be so long, full of passion, understanding and inspiration. Fire and candle, candle and fire. When they are together the world becomes magical, filled with mystery, the shadows around freeze and come to life. They became the center of the universe, the whole world belonged to them two. It lasted forever. There was a sea of light, temperament, a moment of hesitation, fading, and new strength. It was a life lived by two in one breath. It was a love song, sung by two. Love creates miracles.

A miracle was a fairy tale written by a person while a candle was burning magically. And life, full of joy of light and pleasure, creates a new life. In the passionate dance of love there is a great destiny — to create. And in each of us there is a fire and a soul that can love. Allow yourself a dance of love. Each of you will have your own unique dance but it will surely fill your life with meaning.

Butterfly

Once there lived a caterpillar. She seemed completely charmless. Others called her strange, fat, glutton. She heard so much about herself. At first it surprised her: “It is strange how much poison my neighbors have. Have they even seen themselves? Instead of taking care of themselves, they all look around and criticize: this is wrong, that one is not good enough”. Then she grew sad, because being rejected was so painful. Not a word to say to anyone, neither support nor approval for you — only emptiness around. “Maybe I can really try to become more pleasant for them,” — thought the caterpillar. She started to think of different ways to please everyone or to stand herself out somehow so that she would nevertheless be accepted by the society of her little world. No matter how hard the caterpillar tried to please others, she didn’t succeed, and nothing has changed except for the number of biting words addressed to her. She was exhausted. The more she tried to change herself, the worse she felt. She was angry at everyone, she hated herself — it was terrible.

To the storms and hurricanes inside her soul, a night thunderstorm was added. Strong gusts of wind and rain spurred fear on the poor thing and the night seemed to never end. Strong gusts of wind and rain spurred fear on the poor thing and the night seemed to never end. But still the morning has come. The dawn of a new day promised good weather. The washed and refreshed Earth welcomed all living things. The exhausted caterpillar crawled along the branch to the first sunbeam, breaking through the leaves, to warm herself and calm down. She stopped in front of a leaf on which a drop of water was shimmering in the sun, she was like a huge multi-colored bead. The colors inside were glittering and playing. The caterpillar was looking at this miracle. Euphoria was passed on to her too. She raised her head, breathed in the cool air with a full chest, and looked around. As if for the first time she saw the splendor of the world and suddenly one thought completely blindsided her: “Each color is beautiful and unique. If you remove at least one, the world will fade and lose something important and necessary. All beauty is in diversity.” “How didn’t I understand this before!” — exclaimed the caterpillar. “Why did I torment myself that much”, she whispered to herself, “I am beautiful and perfect, like everything in this perfect world. I am not like anyone else and this is my beauty. Everyone has his own beauty, everyone contributes to the world’s completeness”. “My beauty…” — these words were like music that warmed her heart. Words of praise and approval were born in her head, and it was pleasantly. Such words as “fatty” and “glutton” didn’t upset her anymore. Yes, I’m fatty, but I’m very sensitive and delicate as well. I love to chew and enjoy the taste, because there are so many diverse flavors in the world. Yes, I may be slow and particular. “Yes, that’s who I am and it’s great,” cried the caterpillar. And suddenly, it became light of heart. After these words, she bit juicy greens with her teeth, and the leaf had never been so delicious, and the sun had never shone so affectionately as on this magical day. From that very day, everything has changed. Now the caterpillar lived a quiet life, loving herself and everything in herself. She loved her body, her appetite, her clumsiness. She enjoyed the taste and joy of life. But a little time passed, and the caterpillar felt a desire for change, internal yearning hunted her. The world faded because of the desire to understand what was happening to her. She decided to take some time alone to figure out what was going on with her. Curiosity led her along. She listened to herself, trusted herself, not yet aware of something big and valuable inside herself.

Slowly she built herself a refuge from the world, turning into a chrysalis. Then came the day when the work was over. Outwardly, the chrysalis looked lifeless and unattractive, but it is only from the outside. Life was lurking inside. The caterpillar was motionless. She did not want to move, she did not feel hunger. She gave herself time to relax and decide what she really wants, what she really needs. Something amazing happened to her, some unknown magic. She felt well, calm and at the same time was languishing in anticipation. So after spending some time in thought, the caterpillar realized that she missed the warm and gentle sun, she was attracted by the sky with its bottomless freshness and, finally, she just needed to move. She had every intention to travel. “Why to limit yourself to one corner of the world!” she said, and fully determined to act, she broke through the wall of the tiny closet, where she stayed for so long.

The light blinded her, and she slowly freed herself. Amazing lightness turned her head. A light breeze blew and, unable to resist, the butterfly, driven by a dream, soared with it, like a tender petal, like a piece of a rainbow. It was a completely new experience. Lightness and freedom, movement and pleasure merged into a single dance. She was different and at the same time the same. She also enjoyed the fact that she lives, she feels. But the body… The body was different — graceful and refined, bright and tender, as if her soul had become visible. Her dream came true. She saw new horizons, so much light and abundance fell upon her overnight. Feelings overwhelmed the butterfly. But there was a new feeling, stronger than one she had experienced before. She used to love herself, but now she was able to love the whole huge and beautiful World where she lived, which gave her everything that it had, everything that it has now and it will give her so much that still will be. The music of summer and great love played in her little heart and was filled with cheerful laughter around. The butterfly, tender and fragile, was fluttering from flower to flower, pleasing and loving the World, made her even more beautiful.

Spring

One day a man was wandering in the forest. Confusion and sadness were gripping his heart with hoops. The joy that settled in him as a child became small, weak, barely perceptible and seemed to flow from his heart. Affairs and Concerns told her: “There’s no time for you. We are busy. Somehow, later, we will make friends with you.” But the man, a strong and big man, felt like he was missing something important in his life, but he couldn’t understand what.

In thought, he came across a spring, quietly babbling. This place was surprisingly beautiful and calm. Thick grass under the breeze was dancing a strange magic dance. Eternally wise stones, covered with brown moss, exuded peace and resembled eternity. Time seemed to stop. A man’s thoughts dissolved, his soul became warmer and calmer. He crouched on the grass, his back against a tree. His head felt warm, rough bark that reminded his mother’s hands. Peace and joy filled the man for a while, reminding him of long-forgotten sensations. He looked up and saw a blue-blue sky, he was glad; he heard the twitter of a bird, which flew on a branch, and he was glad; a bee, which crouched on a flower, with its buzzing, also pleased the man. He forgot himself for a moment and heard the words that the spring whispered to him: “Enjoy your life, love yourself.” The man flinched, quickly got up and left without looking back.

He left, but as a completely different person. The soul, shocked by joy, wanted life to fill it again with bright colors and wonderful sounds. The soul needed Joy. And the man came again. For a long time he was looking for that wonderful place, giving novelty and hope. He came and said: “I am glad to meet you again, I want to experience by myself the magic that holds this place.” Since then, he again and again came to the spring for joy and pleasure. The spring was generous in love, giving all of itself and its world to man. He came here as often as he could. He wanted to spend more time here, but the world with concerns and responsibilities called and beckoned him. Two worlds, two states were different, but inside the man they merged into a single thing and gave him strength and a desire to live and create. The man came to the spring, enjoyed peace, saturated with joy, and gained strength. The spring gave coolness to the body and warmth to the soul. Everything was breathing with beauty and wisdom, saturating with glory and eternity. Patience and understanding were met there by the man. Quiet conversations with the spring brought awareness of what is important, what is eternal, pacified and at the same time inspired the man. He came and came, filled himself and lived, took what was important and necessary for him. He loved this corner, he loved the spring, because how good it was for him next to the place where love lives. Love cherish the heart and brings joy.

The man was so absorbed in his feelings, problems, and desires that he didn’t even notice how the murmur of water became quieter, how the corner, dear to his heart, was changing. Once he came and didn’t hear anything. Quiet and alone he stood in the middle of the forest. If he were a little more attentive, if he weren’t that busy with himself… At that moment, he realized that he hadn’t noticed when his help, his heart movement, his act filled with love were needed. The spring, even after leaving, gave him another wise advice: “If you love — you should give too”.

Snowdrop