Time that runs away!
I counted my years and found that I will have less time to live from now on than I have lived until now. I feel like that boy who was given a bowl of fruits. The first ones, he sucked carelessly, but realizing that there are few left, he gnaws the kernel.
I don’t have time to deal with mediocrities anymore. I do not want to attend meetings where inflated egos show off. I do not tolerate boasting. I fret over sent people trying to destroy those they admire, lusting after their places, talents and luck.
I do not have time for megalomaniac projects. I will not participate in conferences that set fixed deadlines for reversing the world’s misery. I no longer go to workshops where they teach how to convert millions using a low-point formula. I don’t want to be invited to weekend events with a proposal to shake the millennium.
I no longer have time for endless meetings to discuss statutes, norms, parliamentary procedures and bylaws. I don’t like ordinary assemblies where organizations seek to protect and perpetuate themselves through endless organizational details.
I no longer have time to manage the squeamishness of people who, despite their chronological age, are immature. I don’t want to see the hands of the clock advancing on “confrontation” meetings, where “we get straight facts”. I hate to confront enemies who fought for the majestic position of the choir.
I no longer have time to debate commas, subtle grammatical details, or different translations. I don’t want to keep explaining why I like the new version of something, just because there is a group that considers it heretical. My answer will be short and delicate: – I like it, period! Now I remembered Mário de Andrade who said: “People don’t debate content, only the labels”. My time has become short for debating labels.
I no longer have time to explain to the average person whether or not I’m losing faith, because I admire the poetry of Chico Buarque and Vinicius de Moraes; Maria Bethânia’s voice; the books by Machado de Assis, Thomas Mann, Ernest Hemingway and José Lins do Rego.
Without many fruits in the basin, I want to live alongside human people, very human; who knows how to laugh at their mistakes, is not enchanted by triumphs, does not consider herself elected for the “last hour”; He does not flee from his mortality, defends the dignity of the marginalized, and desires to walk humbly with God. Walking close to these people will never be a waste of time.
Soli Deo Gloria.