No, the traveler, the Cross was not born two thousand years ago.
He crossed the world history since the Spirit dwelt the first human. And what is at the bottom of the cross, if not the symbol of the Spirit (vertical), which enriches the Matter (horizontal)? Penetration mystical and complete intersection.
Where the vertical meets the horizontal, the exact center of the Cross, the rose blooms there, you create the life and love. And in fact, a traveler, if you widen your arms and cross to become the Rosa Mystica is exactly the area of \u200b\u200byour heart.
When you look at a starry sky, and felt the old longing for the places from which you came, that you would go, open up the case, it becomes the Cross, the Nature of Things will then know that you are aware of your own home, and will respond by filling the your vessel of sadness, tenderness, love.
The Cross had a thousand sons, and he could talk at length on the variations of this dance, but for now you do this your suggestion OS: I am greatly benefited.
When I lived in the woods yet, I happened to go outside during the night, attracted by an irresistible impulse, a sense of closed (despite living in a well ventilated and very high ceilings). I went out to breathe the night in the courtyard of my house, dark, with old stone well from inside which a fig tree was determined to be born.
looking up the Milky Way, The Star was looking for, then viravo the Big Dipper, and I let you look blurry to embrace the whole sky. It was then in me stood the Cross, as a natural movement of bones and muscles in my arms opened wide, my body is abandoned, a feeling of deep emotion shook me from within. I Cross, I was the Pink flowers, talking to the stars, were only the nostalgia, abandonment, tenderness, love, touched my source with the petals of the Heart.
There is much more to say, travel to, stop here in words, why not go well. Only by living the Cross you know what happens when you leave crucify man in a sky of stars.
Do not rush, however, the cross rises exactly when you are ready to assist, not a minute before, not a moment later. Haste! How many I hasten to energy spent in reaching horizons that have opened and then only when appropriate. How much ingenuity in the pursuit of power, the powers ... once deluded myself thinking I could save only quickly reaching the domain of matter and the world, but there is no domain, not in the human sense of the term, there is instead a dance, and the full domain is not simply cease to dance be the dance itself.
But all this had to scramble to my trip (note, mine, not necessarily yours), allowed me to deal with a distant time when I had reached very high peaks, from which they precipitate and perhaps an excess of pride ... but this is of course another story.
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