Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts
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عن الإيمان والحب والتفكّر..وعن الرافعي


منذ أن بدأت قراءة الكتب العربية وكان لدي اعتقاد بأن رضوى عاشور ستكتسح دائماً المرتبة الأولى في التأثير في لغتي وتفكيري ورؤيتي لكثير من الأمور الحياتية. لكنني لم أضع في الحسبان أن رضوى قد لا تكون إلا ناتجاً لما قرأته هي نفسها وهي صغيرة. من هم؟ أنا لا أعلم ولا أعتقد أنني سأعلم، وليس هذا مهماً طالما عرفتْ هي كيف تتأثر وتؤثر مستقبلاً..المهم هو أن أجد أنا من يؤثر في بهذا القدر الذي تفعله هي في قُرائها الآن (وأتمنى أكثر في يومٍ من الأيام)..
أُهدي كلماتي هذه لشخصٍ كان سبباً لها.
تعرفت على مصطفى صادق الرافعي بواسطة هذا الصديق العظيم عندما استعرت كتابه "حديث القمر" وقد كنت على علم بأنني سيتملكني الخوف حالما أبدأ بقراءة الكتاب (لدي مشكلة مع الكتب القوية التي قد تمنعني من قراءة كتب "عادية" بعد الانتهاء منها). وقد حدث هذا بالفعل.
عالم الرافعي غير عالمنا، أو على الأقل هو عالم لم أنظر إليه مسبقاً ولم أعرفه قبل أن أعرف الرافعي. بحور كلمات الرافعي تعطيك إحساساً بأنك لا تفقه اللغة العربية ولا تفقه عُمق الحياة أو التأمل أو التفكر أو الشكر أو الموت أو أو. لغة راقية ومخيلة وتصورات واستعارات تجبرك على قراءة كل سطر ما لا يقل عن ثلاث مرات لتتلذذ به بالطريقة الصحيحة. قد يكون أكثر ما علمني إياه هذا الكتاب هو كيف أقرأ الكتب بطريقة صحيحة وأكتشف أن كل كلمة قرأتها قبل هذا الكتاب لم تُقرأ كما يجب.
تحدث الرافعي عن الكلمات وعن الصمت وقيمتهما. عن البكاء بدموع وبدون دموع. تحدث عن الحب والمرأة والجمال والحب الطاهر حتى أنني ظننت أن كل ما نعيشه في حياتنا لا يمُت للحب بِصلة..
تحدث عن الأنبياء والشعراء، الكاذب منهم والنقي، عن الصداقة والعلم والحكمة الإلهية ومناجاة الطبيعة والتفكر في كل جانب من الجوانب الحياتية بعمقٍ أقسم أنني لم أقرأ مثيلاً له من قبل. ودائماً ما يناجي القمر في تفكره، مما أثبت لي عبقريته في اختيار القمر للتأمل في الجوانب الدنيوية والإلهية وكأنه اختاره لأنه ما بين الأرض والسماء (الدنيوي والإلهي).
أما بالنسبة للغة الرافعي فلم أقرأ مثيلاً لها في الجمال والعذوبة والصدق والرقة. ومع أن ألفاظه كانت تصعُب أحياناً إلا أنني كنت أستمتع بها كما لو كانت منافسة لي. وبرغم حجم هذا الكتاب الصغير الذي لم يتعدّى 130 صفحة، إلا أنه جرعة مكثفة من الأفكار والتأملات والعبارات التي لم أستمتع بجمال قبلها.

ففي حديثه عن الحب والحبيبة في مستهل الكتاب يقول:



وفي حديثه عن الحياة الأرضية وما خلقه الله سبحانه وتعالى من مواضع آلام  فيها يقول:

"والحياة الأرضية في طبيعتها غليظة جافية مستحكمة لو ترك لها الإنسان كما هي لأنشأته خلقاً أرضياً بحتاً، ولكن الله جعل فيها مواضع رقيقة تشف عن السماء وما وراءها إلى مصدر القوة الأزلي وهذه المواضع هي الآلام، فهي التي يرفع منها الإنسان يده إلى السماء بضراعة إنسانية متبرئاً من قوته مُقراً بضعفه، وهي كذلك التي يرسل منها الإنسان نظرة إلى الأرض برحمة سماوية تنفذ إلى قلبه بالمعاني الجمّة من شقاء الناس وبأساء الحياة".

وفي حديث آخر عن الآلام هزّ وجودي:

"أوَلا يستشعر الإنسان مما تزلزله مصائبه وآلامه أن روحه تتخطى مقرها في باطنه فكأنه يتزلزل بخطواتها"


وله حديثان عن الدموع وحقيقتها وآلامها:

"ليس كل من عصر عينيه فقد بكى، إن البكاء أشرف من ذلك"

"تُرى من أين يُذبح الإنسان إن كانت دموعه هي دماء روحه؟"

أما في حديثه عن الصداقة فقد كان حديثاً رائعاً...يقول:

"الصداقة كما عرفت منك يا صديقي السماوي لا تكون كذلك حتى تدع الإنسان كأنه يشعر في السراء والضراء بنفسين، فيضاعف  له السرور؛ لأن كلتا النفسين تطلب الزيادة منه ويضعف عنه الهم لأن كلتيهما تعمل لنقصه إذ هو همّ نفس واحدة، وتوزعته نفسان ويكون الإنسان في الحالة الأولى كأنه يلتقي روح النعمة لنفسه بروح وسرور من صديقه، وفي الحالة الثانية كأنه يلتقي روح الجزع بروح الاطمئنان، وإن أشقى الناس من لا يستطيع أن يجد إلى جنبه في سورة الجزع نفساً أخرى تجزع له باطمئنان ليطمئن في جزعه، وهي الصداقة بعينها، وما يُلقاها إلا ذو حظ عظيم"

عن الغنى الروحي:

"إن أريد إلا الغني الذي يعيش فقيراً ليموت غنياً"

وله العديد من الأحاديث عن السعادة، في تعريف الفلاسفة للسعادة ومفاهيمها اللامتناهية، وفي ربطها بالحقيقة، والثالثة في سعادة ربط القلب بالعقل، كالآتي:





"أيتها الحقيقة لا يظفر بكِ إلا سُعداء الفطرة ، وماالطبيعة كلها إلا إيمان بك ودليل عليك. فلو خلص الإنسان من وهمه لخلص من همه ولعرف كيف يُقدر الحزن بسببه الحقيقي لا بالآمال المتوهمة التي زالت بوقوعه؛ قإن تقدير المصيبة بالأمل الذي كان يرجى لو لم تقع أمر لا يحتمل حداً، بل لايزال يتسع من ظنٍ إلى ظن حتى يهيج السخط في نفس الحزين، والسخط مع المصيبة مصيبة ثانية"


“وأنتَ لا ترى أسعد الناس وأهنأهم بسعادته إلا ذلك الذي يجمع قلبه وعقله أن لا يصدر أحدهما من الآخر إلا راضياً مرضيّاً فترى في آثار عقله طهارة القلب وإيمانه وفي أثار قلبه إجادة العقل وإحسانه ولو كُشف لك عن بواطن الأنبياء لتجلّت لعينيك هذه الحقيقة ماثلة”

وأخيراً في حديثه عن الملحدين وكيف ينظرون إلى الحياة.. :




لن يتّسع العالم كله لامتناني لوجود الرافعي وكتبه، ووجود صديق أرشدني إليه. وتعجز قواميس لساني عن الكلام

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The Day I Fell For Zusak

I just found myself in Markus Zusak. No kidding.
Zusak got to me with words. He speaks almost everything I want to write, or not write. He speaks silence that I wanted to utter so long ago. He knows the exact words to tear at my heart, to touch my depth.

The Book Thief got to me more than any other book I ever read did. It actually made me read more and appreciate books and words more. It also made me always remember that silence is a great companion when words are devoid of meaning.


I still haven't finished I am The Messenger. I'm loving it so far. Zusak always knows how to relate the protagonist to books and reading. He must connect the two together, perhaps because he sees that a person in a novel must have something for novels. Maybe.

I love you, Zusak!


“Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.”
― The Book Thief

“I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.”
― The Book Thief

“Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.”

“Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.”
― The Book Thief

“Even death has a heart.”
― The Book Thief

“I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.”
― The Book Thief

“I think she ate a salad and some soup.
And loneliness.
She ate that, too. ”
― I am the Messenger

“Believe it or not--it takes a lot of love to hate you like this.”
― I am the Messenger

“It's not a big thing, but I guess it's true--big things are often just small things that are noticed.”
― I am the Messenger

“My arms are killing me.
I didn't know words could be so heavy.”
― I am the Messenger

“No, I'm not a saint, Sophie. I'm just another stupid human.”
― I am the Messenger

“She soon says, "You're my best friend, Ed."
You can kill a man with those words.
No gun.
No bullets.
Just words and a girl.”
― I am the Messenger

“Only in today's sick society can a man be persecuted for reading too many books.”
― I am the Messenger

“I realize that nothing belongs to her anymore and she belongs to everything.”
― I am the Messenger





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Art and Artists are two different things!

"This is a post from deep within"

I often wonder about the conclusion or the consequence I will get from writing all those thoughts down on my blogs. I often confuse writing my own thoughts with writing thoughts that would address humanity in a way that is unforgettable, with feelings that are palpable and words that are thinkable. I never got to experience the importance of my writings two years from today; every word was a mere consolation to my own struggles, or shall I say, simple experiences.
I think the first thing that tugs every artist into that precise kind of art is the self-struggle they are put through along the phases of their lives. There is always a need to run away from everything, to find shelter and a beautiful escape into something - and then the escape becomes the addiction, the habit, the talent. Everything then takes a path that we all know: casual pieces (either in music, writing, painting or drawing..etc) that are shared only on a personal level. And then things go step by step until you find yourself unable to be extremely happy UNLESS you're doing your own special art. It's a cure, but only if you know perfectly well how to take advantage of that.
Then you get to a point where you suffer with your incapability to create -- another phase of life probably interferes with your artistic thoughts, and then you either become numb, or you become so miserably exhausted from all the attempts that are left on your desktop or your folder as drafts. Too many draft. Just too many that you sense failure dragging you downwards, though inwardly, you're hysterically addicted. Still are.
This is the point I need to talk about the most in this article; the point where you start questioning your own talent and whether or not it's doing people any good.
Does your music inspire people to write more purposeful lyrics to be sung?
Do your portraits speak about something beautiful God has created, for people to ponder, deeply?
Do your writings hold ideas that can change the world in a way, or lessons and stories that let people know they are never alone? That we're all in this together and all we need is to understand that our thoughts are just about the same in different minds?
Let's face it, many of us never had these purposes when we started loving that artistic difference within us. Perhaps none of us now thinks they can truly, thoroughly change the world with some mere artistic piece. But you know, you can only achieve what you really believe in. Or say, what you really fight for before death's visit, let's just not be idealistic here.
For now, please remember that your art isn't yours, or let's say it's not yours alone. Your art is for the whole world, even if you think it's awful. The way we have different tastes is the reason why artists are still creating, because some people will loathe them, other people will fall in love.
Please right your purposes if they're wrong, or create them if you only use your art for your own consolation. Please put in mind that your art is an important factor in the lives of others. Compose lovingly. Portray inspiringly. Write wholeheartedly.
On a final note, never forget that you're a great source of inspiration to everyone, even if you don't get to see that. Here is me telling you.

Inspire on!


Image Source

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Changing Education Paradigms - RSA Videos


This is a pretty interesting way of thinking. Gotta watch!

If you want to follow them on youtube
And there's also an iPhone app, it's pretty awesome!
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Modern Art - Impressionism

The impressionist style of painting is characterized chiefly by concentration on the general impression produced by a scene or object and the use of unmixed primary colors and small strokes to simulate actual reflected light.

Impressionism is a major movement, first in painting and later in music, that developed chiefly in France during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Impressionist painting comprises the work produced between about 1867 and 1886 by a group of artists who shared a set of related approaches and techniques. The most conspicuous characteristic of Impressionism was an attempt to accurately and objectively record visual reality in terms of transient effects of light and colour. The principal Impressionist painters were Claude Monet, Pierre Auguste Renoir, Camille Pissarro, Alfred Sisley, Berthe Morisot, Armand Guillaumin, and Frédéric Bazille, who worked together, influenced each other, and exhibited together independently. Edgar Degas and Paul Cézanne also painted in an Impressionist style for a time in the early 1870s. The established painter Édouard Manet, whose work in the 1860s greatly influenced Monet and others of the group, himself adopted the Impressionist approach about 1873.


Source

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Freedom Tunnel



The Freedom Tunnel
is the name given to the Amtrak tunnel under Riverside Park in Manhattan, New York City. It got its name because the graffiti artist Chris "Freedom" Pape used the tunnel walls to create some of his most notable artwork. The name may also be a reference to the freedom one may find in this tunnel, the freedom to live unobserved, the freedom to create artwork, and freedom from rent.
























Often, the artwork is centered under the light giving the space the feeling of a chapel or great cathedral.


Source: Wikipedia.
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The pleasure of the drunk

"Write drunk; edit sober" -Ernest Hemingway.

Inspiration is my warrior of light!
I've never been so inspired. It feels like I'm colored with all the colors that exist in our world and in different worlds. Like I'm walking through every thought I once abandoned and put on the shelf like an old book. Inspiration is like the hand that wipes the dust off abandoned books and cleans the shelf. The hand that takes yours and leads you to a path where everything is possible, where imagination is the air you breathe and words are the water you drink. Where ideas are palpable and every little thing triggers you to write.
It makes you walk down the street looking at everything just differently, not how your eyes perceive them on daily basis. You write poems on smiles, compose songs on laughs, draw the world on hope, and paint the sky on hand touches. It makes you so vulnerable to falling in love, in love with just anything and everything; the simplest things you would've never thought of. Moreover, it is your light to appreciate even the ugliest things, for their entity could one day be an inspiration to you, or any drunk-on-inspiration artist.
And then, you ponder. You realize that a look is a constellation, a tree is a haiku piece, sunset is love song, winter is Neruda and summer is Shakur. You get that you, mind, body, soul and heart are the element of what your imagination perceives. And your muse is your addiction.
And I'm addicted. I'm addicted to that imagination that makes me so weak before the pages of my notebook and the spaces on my blog. I'm addicted to words, to the laughs, to smiles, the sky, the sundown and sunrise, to strangers and friends, to colors and seasons, to darkness and light. I just can't get enough.
And finally that I'm drunk, I don't want to be sober ever again. It's a pleasure to be addicted.























P.S Neruda is Pablo Neruda, and Shakur is Tupac Shakur. Both poets of passion.
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Pay it Forward and Beyond

You want to change the world, right? I know. We all know. We all have this dream in common, it's like the trait that is born with us. It's like an every-day habit. However, once it's a habit, it is usually forgotten and folded with every other daily act.
We always refuse to be satisfied with the smallest things lest they perish in no time; it's always the oceanic differences that we want to make, why? Because the more we give, the more we want. The more we sacrifice, the more we expect to be appreciated. Sadly, it's hardly measured this way.
It's the fact that whenever the sacrifice is built on expectations, failure is a must-and then comes point zero: dissatisfaction with everything we do just because failure won the battle. It's sad, it's so sad that failure to us is not an option; it's impossible to fail, it's impossible to not find reward for what we give. It's just shameful.
But if you think about it, every little thing you do gets the attention of someone, it just depends on what you choose to do. An act of kindness, a cuss, a smile, a song you play, a word you wrote, a joke, a fight, an attempt to understand people around you. It's the smallest things that we refuse to accept just because their impact is small on the surface.
However and in fact,
  • It's when you smile for an old man who has been in pain that you change a life.
  • When you tell a girl she's beautiful that you make her day.
  • When you call a friend just to say Hi that you are remembered forever.
  • It's when you do a random act of kindness to a stranger that you give them so much hope for a better future. (I just remembered the Pay It Forward project).
  • When you give a hug randomly and spontaneously.
  • When you give a hand to someone.
  • Tell someone that you think of them.
  • It's when you do to people without thinking of yourself nor of rewards.

Bit by bit. Everything will start small, and once you spread those acts of kindness, you have unimaginably changed a thousand lives. And in the end we all die leaving a thousand things unforgotten. We all change the world somehow. But to the worst or the best, you alone choose.

Thank you for reading, I've probably just changed a life myself! =)
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Pricelessness

I love you Egypt!



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Inspired by Life

I created this list to basically inspire me, you and everyone and to tell those who feel bad about their lives that you just need to ponder more. You'll find at least one thing in common, make sure to smile while reading 3shan aksab thawab =D

The best things in life:
1- A warm cup of tea/coffee/cocoa with an inspiration-soaked heart.
2- A phone call from an old friend, expressing how much they have missed you, and you forgiving that person with honest understanding.
3- A morning text message from a loved one (be it a relative, a friend or a lover).
4- Finding the book you've been looking for, in your favorite bookstore.
5- Getting a job and being wholeheartedly appreciated.
6- A friend telling you "I understand" when they really do.
7- A mother's hug.
8- Long walks at dusk/dawn even while badly wanting some rest.
9- A random song with your mood all over it.
10- Prayers answered at the last minutes.
11- Petrichor (The scent of rain on dry earth).
12- The feeling you get right after finishing a book/novel.
13- Being told beautiful (from the inside).
14- The willingness to forgive.
15- Reviving a dead rose (Metaphorically).
16- A smile from deep within.
17- Looking at a couple from afar and knowing that they truly are in love.
18- The first payment after a long, tiring month at work.
19- Singing your favorite childish songs/finding your old box stuffed and breathing innocence.
20- An in-depth conversation.
21- A silent look that expresses a thousand words.
22- A letter from someone you've never met and will probably never do.
23- Being deadly tired after an awesomely spent day.
24- A comeback after a period of complete dormancy.
25- Being strong enough to let go.
26- Accepting the end.


And...The feeling I got while writing this (=