Meșterul Manole

Dear Mother,

I've started to be attracted by the articles posted here since last night and I have been telling to myself to write and ask questions! But it is very difficult for me to ask at least a question maybe because there too many of them. I've been born, I've been a child and now I am starting to remember the flowing pains and the passing joys. A quarter of century later it's the same, only at a greater intensity and deepness. I said to myself that people hurt me and therefore I wanted to understand them better! I started having problems and I've kept saying I would do something about it. It's like I'm living in a roller coaster with insane people and I am the main character. Sometimes it's rolling so fast that it throws me to the ground. Other times it stops and I remain suspended either under the earth, or in the air, or hanging by a thread ... and for a while nothing happens. I just want “simple” things: a family and to be able to enjoy life by using my gifts for me and for the others.( The gifts ... those gifts that I have, meaning what I am capable to do). But it is not simple at all!

I am between exhaustion and renouncement, between wander and despair, between silence and madness. I don’t see any other way but to keep searching, but this question is roaring out of me: for how long? Will my whole life be of wandering torments, disappointed joys or vain searches? I do not know how it is for others, but for me it has been a torment to get out of the house in my past half life.

It is difficult to meet people who can hurt me or to get in situations I can't get out of and later to realize what I was supposed to do. I really had to get out of the house. When I come back I hold a pillow in my arms and I don't dare to breathe not to “agitate” any unknown waters. Is this an endless and senseless fight? I hear or I read words that make sense to me, but not to the whole me. I learn lessons and I grow up. Sometimes I have to take an exam once or even a couple of times. I hate it when I take the same exam endlessly because a certain sense, a word or a glance were missing. It's an endless story for me, a story about me being alone and wandering in this world… about a pilgrim whose journey is not complete and got tired to reach the end of his trip even though there he can rest, be happy and enjoy life.This would mean for me to have a family and an orderly life. I also know that from there on it will be difficult, but the way I am now I would wander on the outside, on roads not to be taken, with the hope of arriving once and for all. I am telling myself today: be more loving! Something happens tomorrow and I realize I forgot to be loving with myself. Tomorrow I tell myself: “I'll be more careful about it”! The day after tomorrow I discover that I have given my blind trust to someone who doesn’t hesitate to hurt me without even to believe or to see this. Yes, I know the theory about: “I am responsible for my feelings” or the theory about “another one can not hurts you unless something inside...” etc. etc. IT DOESN’T HELP ME TO KNOW THOSE! My story is endless and it is about a lost child! How do I stop, my good Sister, this roller-coaster? How do I get off and go “home”? How do I find home? Is this what I have to do? How do I keep the right way when in my soul there are so many fears, thoughts or searches? Is there something wrong with me because I'm obsessed with marriage? Is it a mistake to believe that a family could mean “to be home”? How do the people hurt me so easily? Why do I let them hurt me after all these exams? Haven't I learned anything by now? There are too many words that are “buzzing” in my head and are “scratching” my soul. What I learned from books comes in contradiction with what I met in my real life. And if I am quiet... I hear nothing. I feel usually, in compensation, pain and despair. And I also feel and hear a silence that makes everything have sense, but it doesn’t make any sense for me to get involved in anything, not even to go to work or to do anything what I used to do. Then I start thinking:this actually is depression, I need to get out of it ... and so, again and again, the roller coaster rolls, I am the main character, and the story is not over! I don’t know if the best thing what I can do is to stop. Maybe this is actually the question: what and how do I have to do in this life ?... Yes, I think this is the question! I found your site, on a morning, when I searched on Google a question to God: "God, what am I going to do now?"

May God give you health!

"Master Manole" who still hopes for a word to make sense! …

Sister Siluana said:

Now, my Exhausted Child: "Stop and discover that I am God" and "Come to Me to give you rest!”

And me, the Sister on the internet, is asking you to come to have together the seminar of forgiveness because we will both discover another way to be, a different way from the one who got you in that roller coaster.

Come on, child, I was there and I know the way!

With love and trust,

M. Siluana

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I am starting now to discover them all, to look at everything from a different perspective

I joyfully kiss your hand!

I have realized that I need to “make up” with what my life means, that I have been "upset" not only on people, but on everything surrounding me, including my house, my activities ... I am starting now to discover them all, to look at everything from a different perspective. This way, I need to caress and make up with every small thing around me, as if I had been in a "cold war" with everything. It seemed to be my house, but I was not inside of it, but I do not know where because I was only feeling just the pressure. Just like that.

I read the Litany every night, and different words “catch me” every night but it has become like something deep inside, which I do not know how to tell you about. It's like love, like good trust, in which I do not have a reason to rush and and to revolt against ... And this ongoing astonishment at the same time, because my soul didn’t know to be rested. Probably, everything arranges itself inside and outside of me.

I read the sessions - I stopped at the seventh session, because I still do not know which one is my cup to drink to the last drop, so I expect Him, the Lord to show me, but in the meantime, "I clean up ".

God bless you and empower you!

I love you! (you yourself, not me through you )

Cr.

My dear Cr.,

I'm glad to see the way you are blossoming. You know, for many of us who want to learn “the art of happiness”, the path begins with the discovery of the pain buried in oblivion, in order to take it, to live it and to give it to The Only One Who can turn it into JOY. But there are also, people like you, who need only to wake up from a kind of sleep or from this somnambulist way of living, to discover how great the gift of life is. Thanks be to God that you are doing this through the Seminar and not through shattering troubles like many of our dear people.

Thanks for listening and I hug you with love!

M. Siluana

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About His Icon

I've started crying when I'd seen His icon from Sinai. And I've wanted so much to have it. Surprisingly, I've had a hard time finding it.. What I'd like to emphasize is that His blessing hand looks normal in His other various “representations”. There is nothing in there to draw your attention ... You'll understand what I mean ...

During one of my depression crises, I've punched the wall! Violently! I've painfully collapsed in bed with my fist open and reddened… yelling and arguing with Him. But during my suffering, I could not help staring at the icon. Then I've become speechless! His hand in my icon is reddened. His hand seems bloody! I do not know why there is such a contrast but the color is very saturated in that spot, and His hand seems bloody.

It seemed to me that He was crying and telling me: “I feel your pain"! He has felt my pain. My punching the wall has been rebellious and spiteful. It has been desperate! But I've hurt Him! It hasn't been my fist punching that wall, but His.

Ever since then, I have never punched anything and I've been looking at His hand, hoping that it's healing. That it's recovering! But that red spot is still on the icon for me never to forget … In fact, I do not remember the icon in a different way. I want to believe that this was His way of telling me that what hurts me it also hurts Him, that He feels my pain and that I am very important for Him in my suffering.

About my Mother

This image of my mother holding my hand on our way back home, in a summer afternoon. Her silk daisy-flowery dress was waving in the wind and it seemed to touch and tickle me. We were walking with the sun in front of us and the wind was blowing in our faces. She was laughing! She was wearing some delicate navy blue sandals with high heels. She was so beautiful and smooth. She was holding my hand and while I was walking, I was looking at her. I kept looking at her! As long as she was holding my hand, I wasn't caring on what I step. I was so proud and fond of my mom. As long as she was holding my hand, nothing bad could happen.

About music …

Yann Tiersen is a crazy beautiful and extraordinary French musician. While listening to his music, I can ride a bicycle without holding the handle bar and I'm convinced that no car will hit me. There is no way this could happen! It's my street ... It's my one-way street, it's my childhood bicycle, it’s the way to the sea and towards the light and I have the power to pedal towards it.

I downloaded a movie with and about Arvo Part yesterday. In my heart, this was my Christmas gift for you. It says in the movie that every blade of grass has the value of a flower. What a miracle! Each musical note has a value by itself. I understand that there is God in every person now. It makes sense now. I understand what it means to have a calling to be God.

Chagall is the equivalent of Yann Tiersen in painting. I've identified myself in his paintings. I am the one who is flying, I am the one flying over Paris in a bride dress, it's me who he is holding so tenderly in his arms and it's me all the violins in the world are playing for.

About myself

I know that somewhere deep down in my soul, there is something precious and valuable. It's a crumb of divinity. I am not scum. I am not a creep as my mother used to call me. I am a human being who wants to grow and who wants to be good. Who struggles to be good.

His hands have cured all my vices which I've considered impossible to get cured. There is no “I can't do this”! I've stopped smoking cigarettes or other herbs, I am trying to get rid of “intellectual masturbation” (it is easier with the bodily one). It doesn't seem that hard to refrain from bodily relations. I'm fighting the filth around me with a power that it is not mine. It is His! It is very easy because I know I do everything for Him. He has showed me how beautiful and delicate His world was. He made Yann Tiersen and Arvo Part so crazy and so delicate and their music is made by Him for Him!

About…why's

He has given me my grandmother and He has wanted me to live with her in an insane family for me not to become insane and to commit suicide and to give me a benchmark of normality.

He has given me D. to give me a reason. It was for me to see that by and through D., by holding his hand, I can reach Him. He has given me D. to protect me and to take care of me. Because of His abundance of love, he has given him to me. I would have never reached Him with R. How could I have lead a stranger to Him when I had not known the way? I've broken up with R. not because he had not been loving me. I understand now. We would have been happy for a while, but we would have gotten bored quickly of each other. One cannot build anything on sand ...

The human love is so uncertain, so fragile, so unsafe. It is so temporary.

I would have never confessed. I would have never yearned for the Eucharist. I would have never met Father …

No, I would not have reached Him in another way! And…especially, we would have never met, Sister, in that store on the outskirts of Iasi, on that sunny day, where I had not been since then ... I would have never looked for myself, deep inside me, on Wednesday, December 17, 08, at 8:38 am, knowing that my Sister is at the other end of this invisible thread ...

The greenest M.

My beloved and green girl,

Thank you for your tears, for the music and for your love!

Thank you especially for the confidence to go along with me through all this birth from pain. Yes, I feel more deeply the sharing of these birth pains. I am reborn in a deeper and more real manner with each and everyone of you that dares to go through your souls' customs, although I do not remember a thing about myself.

Let me kiss your hands and I ask you to forgive me for my helplessness or all my oversights, because they come from a human being with a soul still to be cured.

With love and gratitude,

Mother Siluana

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