Unlocking Resilience: Love, Culture, and the Art of Thriving Amidst Life’s Challenges
“On a happy occasion, I met Anişoara Laura Mustețiu, a special acquaintance, because there were 15,222 km between us. But this good half of the planet did not prevent me from discovering a poet with sensibilities that transcend the concrete world, in a sequence of special experiences, and an aesthetic filled with emotion and light.
Now, I discover the prose writer Anișoara Laura Mustețiu, who opens to the world in broad, unequivocal gestures. Haunted by “bearish longings”, she goes beyond any “silent gates, fenced in worldly facts” and, passing through the filter of her senses, old and new events, sifting them into lively stories. Her stories, written with a special style of phrasing, with reliefs in suspension—and basically with a barely restrained amazement in front of her existence—directly transfer to the reader the colour, taste, and texture of the event, the memory, the feelings.
The autobiographical character “Anca, the-cursed-with-beauty” thus generously gives to others from the collected wonders, with clear eyes directed both to the being of things and the endless sky.
With this book, Anișoara Laura Mustețiu announces a very sensitive and beautiful journey in prose that will undoubtedly continue into the future.”
Radu Comşa,
Writer
FROM HERE… TOWARDS THE PAST
“Thought is another name for destiny.”
(Henry Van)
(A story from the book THE FRAGMENTS OF A WOMAN’s LIFE by Anisoara Laura Mustetiu)
The heavenly ocean leaves its gentle waves of water over the heart of the earth. Australian nature, parched, and in some parts burnt by the scorching nets of the sun, breathes again, moistened by the beneficent kiss of the rain. This kiss brings it back to life. Nature is silent, absorbs power… and is reborn. The life that pulsates in it blooms, in pure and invigorating green, and melts into the air. The light flows slowly through damp tree trunks and dissipates in candor among the magical and unknown moments of the day.
A Kookaburra emerges from a hollow, sits on a thick branch, and shakes its feathers, painted on a whitish background with long brown and blue spots. The bird is giggling. It seems to laugh, then it swings its black beak in the wind. The trees, grey-brown, thirstily absorb the blessed rainwater. Gratefully, their bare arms reach out to the sky. On the little dry valley, the threads of life flow again. Wet, the coloured pebbles look dreamily from their beds towards endlessness.
It’s quiet around me. The fine raindrops are rolling gently in the air, they are shattering and disappearing into the ground. I feel a beneficent peace. I close my eyes. A flock of moments lures me towards reflections. The footsteps of my thoughts take me on an earthly path, from where I glimpse the present, like a Fata Morgana, beautiful, attractive, illusory, and full of incomprehensible wizards. I see everyday events, more or less interesting, I stumble upon mysterious stories, hidden in bushes of ephemeral moments.
New, foreboding stories appear like phantasms from a nebulous distance. I remain silent. Naked truths flash in my eyes. However, some of them are hard to understand. I hear mute words whispering something indistinct… The lifted eyelids reveal the velvety brown of my questioning eyes. I look at the mirage of the unknown, spread like a mist over the warm earth, over the earth where millions and millions of hearts beat ceaselessly. A distant shout startles me. It is the cry of light, flooding me with new strength. The fog of confusion is dispelled, chased by the infinite power of light, of faith. Faith in the goodness of people, faith in the miracle of existence.
The tumult of an everyday day is left among the Jacaranda, the trees decorated with a dusting of lilac flowers. From suburban Sydney train stations, people hurry home. Cars rush through the streets of this Australian metropolis, a city that is home to five million inhabitants. A short distance away, kangaroos leap out of the dry forests, gather in groups, and sniff the fresh food from the fertile fields of the Hunter Valley.
I am longing for beautiful thoughts. Everyday reality overwhelms me. I turn my eyes to the Eucalyptus tree, in front of the house. On a branch, I see two Australian finches. They have red beaks, and a striped body like a zebra, with black and white lines. Their harmonious song dazzles my senses. With the hope of finding deep thoughts, I close my eyes and ride on the wings of colourful dreams.
I advance with graceful steps on the trembling line of the horizon, on an astral path that separates the known worlds from the mysterious spheres, the past from the present, the ephemeral from eternity. I look at galaxies of words, full of nebulous ideas, elliptical nebulae that glare at the gaze of the human mind in dizzying colours. I lose myself in new universes, universes flooded with alluring lights, through which, only rarely a defiant ghost will haunt. I became an acrobat. I roll through the strips of light, I start juggling thoughts, feelings, and emotions. I spin them gracefully through the air. The fragile ones I catch again, I protect them with tenderness.
Rebellious emotions I purposely let fall and break into a thousand shards of thoughts and words. I leave them there, to learn from the wisdom of experiencing a new life lesson. I step further down the path, hoping to discover new veracities. I stop to look at a cluster of thoughts. They are pale, seem restless, and lack sparkle and warmth. My heart is beating slowly. I look at them with understanding and walk away.
I miss empowering ideas! After a while, other thoughts arise. They are wrapped in strips of light. I feel that I am attracted to them with incredible force. They seem magical! I hear their echo, which tends to pour out its beauty for an endless time. Next to them, there is the relief of enchanting dreams. Ah, I feel in my chest a joy that is hard to contain! I want to get lost in their wonder. The shrill chirping of a group of Rosellas wakes me from my reverie. The parrots twirl merrily on a branch, cooing and pecking at pink eucalyptus flowers. They are decorated in glorious colours, with shimmering shades of purple, white, red, and navy blue. I catch this tender image, preserve its life, and metamorphose it into beautiful thoughts.
Nature remains full of magic. It hides so much power and wisdom! It does not know malice or greed, it only aspires to maintain its existence in harmony. Life is magical. So many miracles, so much wisdom smoulders in it. It can reshape thoughts, and give them new forms, new meanings.
I look at fragments of life—moments, people, happenings—and at everything that surrounds me. I know that looking means too little. Over time I understood that the essence, the magic, arises only from the depth of our perception, from the understanding that exists, more or less, in our gaze. When we look at nature, what do we see? What do we feel? The past attracts me and pulls me in, persistently, irresistibly. And, I feel like I have some things to tell, to disclose…
From the book THE FRAGMENTS OF A WOMAN’S LIFE – Anisoara Laura Mustetiu, available on AMAZON worldwide.
