It is literally amazing what Paulo Coelho’s writing can do to me. I am one of the people who pride themselves for not being blindly religious. I admire science and logic. I have hungry eyes and an open mind to absorb things. It may have been part of why I named this blog. I observe and analys.
In my childhood it was a different story, at school, I was strongly affected by a religion teacher of mine. He was kind of strict, had a strong faith, had a real knowledge of what he talks about, and gifted with an autherative voice tone that only added to his affect on me.
Being a calm person which I give the credit for to my biological heritance rather than my own ego, I was never the type of *sinner* that anyone would worry about. I was as innocent as an angel without any real physical desires that I couldn’t handle. Yet, like any other child, I had some little sins, like swearing of God’s name, which with the effect of my teacher, I was able to control and stop as well. I have even carried this effect till today. I find awkward when I get carried away and swear with God’s name now.
This only left me in a saintly state where at some point I got bored of myself. You can imagine how might other little kids felt about me. I remember funny comments (like being the conscience of the alley – but that was at a later stage of my life when I became a teenage).
Life isn’t built on one color, our growth force us to see that. No single religion carries the whole truth, and science doesn’t claim to know it all either. Blind faith doesn’t suit me, and it isn’t a choice that I consciously made either. Life has managed to crack my belief system, and with that crack, it shook my world. I have seen a light, and wanted more. But it killed my world. It killed my God. It killed my soul. It killed the angels. It killed the miracles. It killed what science doesn’t proove its existance.
It left me in a state of mind where I can just say that I am an agnostic. It is simple as “I don’t know”. I can argue for ages about the lack of a real proof of a spiritual world, and yet I cannot prove its inexistance.
But then comes Paulo. When ever I read a single page of his books, I feel my spiritual world being born again. He directs another type of light, a light full of love and hope. He creates new angels. He highlights miracles. He presents saints. He re-works prophet’s words. And he re-paints God with more powerful colors.
He leaves me with wider eyes. New eyes searching for signs. A feather drifted in the river of my life. An Observer who doesn’t just observe by sight, but also by signs and feelings. My language has changed. It acquired new expressions. Negative and positive energy are more tangible. I have even dreamt that a friend of mine had a raise in her salary, and she got one the next day I told her about it!
That never happened to me before. When my mom used to believe in her dreams, I used to laugh. I may laugh about mine now. It can be a coincidence and it can be not. It can be a start of a growing sixth sense for me, or a start of a hallucinating insanity.
It doesn’t matter as long as I feel good about it. I know it is the effect of Paulo Coelho. The person who seems to do a better job to serve God more than any existing Church on this earth.