170. EL DUENDE DEL VIENTO
THE WIND ELF
Parte 2/4 -Part 2/4
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"Doma al gusano"
"Tame the worn"
Fecha/date: 16/12/22
Explicación/ Explanation:
Me encontraba finalizando este dibujo y no sabía que nombre ponerle, hasta que
observé la pequeña cabeza de un viejo de perfil en el centro de la lámina, y exclamé:
-¡El duende del viento!- y todo, porque me dio la impresión de que estaba soplando.
No fue hasta que di la lámina por terminada, que la observé de lejos, y aprecié que aquel extraño ser también tenía cuerpo.
-¿Y esa postura tan encorvada?, ¿qué hace, coger impulso para soplar más fuerte?, ¿ qué pretende, erosionar la piedra que flota en sus narices a base de soplidos?- me pregunté desconcertada.
La cuestión es que, de repente, toda mi atención se centró en descifrar la presencia de aquel monstruo con cuerpo de gusano deforme al que había denominado duende, ¡yo que de duendes no sabía nada!...
Y entonces recordé una expresión muy bonita que llevaba siglos sin oír, "tiene duende". Sin embargo, acordarme de ella no me dio grandes esperanzas...
Enseguida sospeché que su significado nada tendría que ver con el mensaje que aquel personaje tan siniestro traía para mi.
Debido a su apariencia y a su pose, todo apuntaba a que no estaba ahí para halagarme por ser especial, y mucho menos para felicitarme por mi gran carisma...
¡Mucho menos en aquel momento de mi vida, que andaba de capa caída!
Lo primero que llamó mi atención fue el hecho de que no tuviese globos oculares. ¿A santo de qué había dibujado un "duende" ciego?
Supongo que, como no supe qué responderme, me fui por otros derroteros...
Comencé por preguntarme si aquel personaje no sería el mismo que jugaba conmigo escondiéndome objetos y devolviéndomelos más tarde de forma misteriosa (A veces, no siempre, porque algunos siguen en paradero desconocido)
O mucho peor, si no sería también el espectro travieso que aprovechaba cualquiera de mis momentos de distracción para acercárseme por detrás y soplarme en la nuca.
Eso me intranquilizó, porque no me hacía ni pizca de gracia.
En cualquier caso, lo que de veras me puso la piel de gallina fue la sospecha de que aquel personaje pudiese guardar relación con la sombra que se dejaba ver de vez en cuando...
Eso sí que me asustó de veras, ya que por más que intentase ignorar su presencia para evitar caer presa del pánico, ¡siempre me hacía girar la cabeza y me ponía los pelos de punta!
Fue llegados a ese punto que desvié la atención hacia la mantis.
De alguna manera, intuí que me ayudaría a interpretar la presencia de aquel ser en la lámina.
Lo primero que sentí fue que la mantis no estaba ahí para vigilarme a mí, sino para decirme que más me valía vigilarme de cerca...
El motivo, la cabeza de piedra representaba la mía, y era de ella de dónde surgía aquella especie de demonio con cara de pocos amigos.
Enseguida interpreté la imagen de aquel bicho raro como la personificación de mi respuesta automática cada vez que me cabreaba, que eran muchas, y sin lugar a dudas, lo que más drenaba mi energía al cabo del día.
¿Y cuál fue mi reacción?, ¡enfadarme conmigo misma!
Me cabreé porque no había mañana que no me levantase con el firme propósito de vivir en armonía, ¡y no había día que no me lloviesen conflictos por todos lados!
- Dime, ¿ cómo lo hago para deshacerme de esas reacciones mías que no logro cambiar?, ¿y por qué siempre surge algo o viene alguien a buscarme las cosquillas? - le pregunté a la mantis.
No me hizo falta su respuesta porque en aquel preciso momento, me acordé de la criatura de la que me había hablado mi hijo, el gusano pixelado, y exclamé:
-¡Ahora lo entiendo! Lo que quiera que eso sea, eso es lo que me está corrompiendo y por lo viejo que parece, debe llevar siglos a mi lado, ¿por qué no lo habré visto antes de manera tan clara?
-¡Porque lo veías pixelado! Lo mirabas tan de cerca que no podías obtener una imagen nítida- me respondí de inmediato.
Fue entonces que me pregunté cuanto no tendría aquel fantasma que ver con el dolor que me causaba la repetición de situaciones y la frustración de no poder cambiarlas.
Así fue como llegué a la conclusión de que el que había bautizado como "Duende del Viento" era en verdad mi gusano pixelado corrupto particular...Y que no era un duendecillo travieso inofensivo, sino el parásito guardián de la energía que hacía que no hubiese día que no hubiese bronca en casa....
Una energía tan densa, que hasta parecía ser la causante de que la bancada de la cocina se llenase de arena como si viviese frente a la playa (No importaba cuantas veces le pasase un trapo al cabo del día, se ensuciaba tan rápido que ya no sabía qué producto utilizar para limpiarla)
Cuando le achaqué a aquella entidad monstruosa el origen de mis sentimientos de frustración e impotencia, recuerdo que me dije:
-¡Más te vale domar al gusano o te acabará rompiendo en pedazos!
Entonces no lo sabía pero acababa de lanzar una profecía.
31/05/24
¡Y es que más sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo! Y este, de viejo que era, me conocía una eternidad... El tiempo suficiente para saber todos mis puntos débiles y cien mil maneras para sacarme de mis casillas.
Obviamente, cuando acabé este dibujo y redacté este post, no tenía ni idea de a qué me enfrentaba.
No me imaginaba el daño que podía llegar a causarme aquel gusano disfrazado de duende, que otros ya reconocían y ponían nombre.
Ahora me doy cuenta de la de tiempo que perdí por creer que para vencerlo bastaba con proponérmelo.
¡Qué ilusa fui al pensar que algún día lograría domarlo!
¡Ojalá hubiese sabido antes que sólo me desharía de él matándolo, y que sólo moría de hambre!
En mi caso, una tarea de lo más difícil, puesto que llevaba tantos, tantos años, sobrealimentándolo, que aquel bicho reservas de sobra para ayunar y seguir acechándome con todas sus fuerzas durante unos cuantos siglos más.
De haber sabido que la mejor arma contra él era evitar los momentos de distracción para anticipar su llegada, imagino que no hubiese bajado tanto la guardia en los meses venideros...
Hoy comprendo que lo mejor que puedo hacer es permanecer alerta para verlo venir, y que más me vale hacerlo, porque por desgracia, no es de los que llaman a la puerta y piden permiso para entrar...
Ahora sé que su especialidad es colarse por cualquier rendija, y que una vez dentro, arrasa como un tornado y ya no hay nada que se pueda hacer, salvo esperar a que pase la tormenta y lamentarme por los daños.
Todo esto lo descubrí hace muy poco, tras toparme con un vídeo que no busqué, y que relata a la perfección mi destructiva relación con esta energía tan tóxica que yo misma alimenté.
Gracias a la información que se daba en aquel video, no sólo conseguí hacerme más consciente del modo en que opera esta energía, sino de su trayectoria a lo largo de mi vida... ¡Hasta el punto de saber que lleva conmigo desde que tenía cuatro años!, edad a la que se remonta el recuerdo de mi primer ataque de rabia.
Eso fue hace mucho, y sin embargo, cuando pienso en ello, parece que fue ayer...
Me encontraba en el aula de párvulos y junto a mí, había una niña sentada a la que no logro ponerle cara, que disimuladamente, no cesaba de hacer pintarrajos con un lápiz en mi mesa.
Recuerdo a la profesora Herminia de espaldas, escribiendo algo en la pizarra y a mí, en silencio, lanzándole miradas asesinas y muy molesta, mientras borraba las marcas del lápiz una y otra vez...
Y de repente, sólo mi imagen de pie, con un rotulador negro permanente en la mano (que no sé de dónde saqué), resoplando como un toro, sintiendo mi cuerpo en llamas y pintando con todas mis fuerzas el pupitre de aquella cría tan plasta, ante la mirada atónita de ella, de la maestra y de todos los compañeros del aula...
Gracias a lo cuál, no sólo me llevé una buena regañina por parte de la maestra delante de todos, sino otra de mi madre en casa, y el arduo trabajo de tener que limpiar con estropajo el pupitre de la compañera hasta que no quedó ni rastro de tinta...
Pero lo peor no fue eso, sino los sentimientos de impotencia e injusticia y la profunda rabia que sentí al tener que soportar las burlas de la compañera mientras pagaba el pato por algo que había comenzado ella... ¡y todo por culpa de mi reacción explosiva!
Con el paso de los años, creía haber aprendido a quejarme antes y a aguantar menos para evitar explotar.... Al parecer, no había hecho lo suficiente... ¡Es un hecho que el Sr. Rabia siguió creciendo en las sombras!
Es hoy cuando veo que fui yo quien ayudó a ese monstruo a crecer tanto y a hacerse tan fuerte, que no sólo se volvió independiente, sino furiosamente reactivo, lo que casi acaba por volverme loca llevándome al colapso total en el 2023.
Ahora, al menos lo veo venir, y la mayoría de días incluso logro ponerle freno. Cuando eso sucede, siempre le digo:
-¿Otra vez aquí, Broncas?, ¿es que no te cansas nunca?, ¡déjame en paz que hoy tampoco te quiero alimentar!
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Explanation:
I was finishing this drawing and still didn't know what to name it...Until I noticed the small head of an old man in profile in the centre of the drawing, and I exclaimed:
-The wind elf - and all because it gave me the impression that he was blowing on a stone.
It was not until I had finished the picture that I looked at it from a distance and saw that this strange being also had a body.
-What is it doing, what is it doing, gathering momentum to blow harder, what is it trying to do, erode the stone that floats under its nose by blowing,’ I wondered in bewilderment.
The thing is that suddenly, all my attention was focused on deciphering the presence of that monster with the body of a deformed worm that I had called a goblin, I knew nothing about goblins!....
And then I remembered a very nice expression that I hadn't heard for ages, "tiene duende", although remembering it didn't give me much hope.
I immediately suspected that its meaning had nothing to do with the message that this sinister character had for me.
Because of his appearance and his pose, everything pointed to the fact that he was not there to flatter me for being special, much less to congratulate me for my great charisma... And much less at that moment in my life, since I was in the doldrums!
The first thing that caught my attention was the fact that I had no eyeballs - why had I drawn a blind ‘elf’?
And I guess I didn't know what to answer, so I went in a different direction?
I began to wonder if that character wasn't the same one who played with me, hiding objects from me and then returning them to me in mysterious ways (sometimes, not always, because some of them are still unaccounted for).
Or much worse, if it wasn't also that mischievous spectre that took advantage of any of my moments of distraction to approach me from behind and blow on the back of my head.
That made me uneasy, because it wasn't funny. But what really gave me goose bumps was when I wondered if he was also the character who disguised himself as a shadow and let himself be seen from time to time.
That frightened me so much!
That shadow, which I always ignored so as not to panic, that made my head spin and made my hair stand on end.
It was at this point that I noticed the presence of the mantis.
Somehow I felt that she would help me interpret the presence of this being floating above a petrified woman's head.
The first thing I thought I understood was that the mantis was not there to watch over me, but to alert me that I had better be on my guard, because that stone head represented my own, and it was from that head that this kind of unfriendly-looking demon came from.
It didn't take me long to interpret the image of the weirdo as the personification of my automatic response every time I got angry, which was undoubtedly the thing that drained my energy the most at the end of the day.
The first thing I did was the most counterproductive thing I could do, get angry at myself.
Because there wasn't a morning that went by that I didn't wake up with the firm intention of living in harmony, and equally the conflicts that rained down on me from all sides!
- Tell me, how do I get rid of these reactions of mine that I can't change, and why does something or someone always come along to tickle me and defeat me? - I asked the mantis.
It didn't say anything, but at that moment I remembered the creature my son had told me about, the pixelated worm!
-Now I get it! Whatever it is, it's corrupting me.
And from how old it looks, it must have been there for centuries.
How is it possible that I haven't seen it until now?- I wondered perplexed.
-Because you saw it pixelated! You were looking at it so close that you couldn't get a clear image!- I replied, perplexed.
And then I wondered how much that ghost had to do with the pain of repetition and the frustration of not being able to change that haunted me.
That's how I came to the conclusion that the one I had christened Wind Goblin was a corrupt pixelated worm, a parasite that haunted me.
I blamed him for the energy that meant that there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't get angry at home..... And I even made him responsible for my kitchen bench filling up with sand as if I lived in front of the beach (No matter how many times I wiped it down a day, it got dirty constantly).
What if he was the source of my frustration and helplessness, was it because of his existence that it was practically impossible for me to change the situation?
-You'd better tame the worm or he'll tear you to pieces!- I remember saying to myself, unaware that I had just uttered a prophecy.
31/05/24
With ages comes wisdom! And this one, as old as he was, knew me for an eternity! Long enough to know all my weak points and a thousand ways to get on my nerves.
Obviously, when I finished this drawing and wrote this post, I had no idea what I was up against.
Nor did I imagine the damage that the worm disguised as a goblin, which others already recognised and named, could do to me.
I wasted so much time believing that I could defeat him just by setting my mind to it... How deluded I was to think that one day I would manage to tame him!
If only I had known before that the only solution was to kill it, and that it would only starve to death!
In my case, a most difficult task, since I had overfed it for so many years that it had plenty of reserves to fast and continue to stalk me with all its might for a few more centuries.
Had I known that the best weapon against him was to avoid moments of distraction to anticipate his arrival, I imagine I would not have let my guard down so much in the months to come....
Today I know that I must focus on staying alert to see him coming, and that I had better do so, because unfortunately, he is not the type to knock on the door and ask permission to enter....
He has already shown me that his speciality is to slip through any crack, and that once inside, he sweeps in like a tornado and there is nothing you can do except wait for the storm to pass, deal with the chaos caused and leave everything in ruins, and regret that you could not have prevented it.
I discovered all this very recently, after stumbling upon a video that I didn't look for, and that perfectly relates my destructive relationship with this toxic energy created by me.
Thanks to the information I found there, not only am I more aware of the way it operates, but I can see its trajectory along my life.... I can even recognize him around me when I was four! From that age comes the memory of my first fit of rage.
That was a long time ago, and yet I remember it as if it were yesterday....
I was in the kindergarten classroom and next to me there was a little girl, whose face I can't put a face to, who was slyly making marks with a pencil on my desk.
I remember the teacher Herminia with her back turned, writing something on the blackboard, and me, silently, annoyed, erasing the pencil marks over and over again...
And suddenly, just my image, standing with a black permanent marker in my hand, which I don't know where I got it from, snorting like a bull, feeling as if I had fire in my body and painting with all my might on the desk of that child, before the astonished gaze of her, the teacher and all my classmates....
Thanks to this, I got a good scolding from the teacher, followed by another one from my mother at home, and the arduous task of cleaning the classmate's desk with a scouring pad until there was no trace of ink left...
But the worst thing was not any of the aforementioned as I had no regrets, but the rage I felt at seeing that little girl mocking me while I was paying the price for something she had started...All because of my explosive reaction!
As the years went by, I made an effort to learn to control my anger so as not to explode, I learned to complain earlier and to put up with less... But, it seems I didn't do enough... It is a fact that Mr. Rage continued to grow in the shadows!
It is today that I see that it was I who helped that monster become so strong that it not only became independent, but furiously reactive, which almost drove me mad, and ended up blindly leading me through a 2023 that led to my total collapse.
Today, at least, most days I can see it coming and I manage to stop it before I see red. When that happens, I always shout at him:
-"Here again, Broncas?, don't you ever get tired? Leave me alone!, I don't want to feed you today either!
Marilyn Manon - Deep six¿Qué es un egregor?- Inti Waka
%20-%20copia.jpg)
I was finishing this drawing and still didn't know what to name it...
Until I noticed the small head of an old man in profile in the centre of the drawing, and I exclaimed:
-The wind elf - and all because it gave me the impression that he was blowing on a stone.
It was not until I had finished the picture that I looked at it from a distance and saw that this strange being also had a body.
-What is it doing, what is it doing, gathering momentum to blow harder, what is it trying to do, erode the stone that floats under its nose by blowing,’ I wondered in bewilderment.
The thing is that suddenly, all my attention was focused on deciphering the presence of that monster with the body of a deformed worm that I had called a goblin, I knew nothing about goblins!....
And then I remembered a very nice expression that I hadn't heard for ages, "tiene duende", although remembering it didn't give me much hope.
I immediately suspected that its meaning had nothing to do with the message that this sinister character had for me.
Because of his appearance and his pose, everything pointed to the fact that he was not there to flatter me for being special, much less to congratulate me for my great charisma... And much less at that moment in my life, since I was in the doldrums!
The first thing that caught my attention was the fact that I had no eyeballs - why had I drawn a blind ‘elf’?
And I guess I didn't know what to answer, so I went in a different direction?
I began to wonder if that character wasn't the same one who played with me, hiding objects from me and then returning them to me in mysterious ways (sometimes, not always, because some of them are still unaccounted for).
Or much worse, if it wasn't also that mischievous spectre that took advantage of any of my moments of distraction to approach me from behind and blow on the back of my head.
That made me uneasy, because it wasn't funny. But what really gave me goose bumps was when I wondered if he was also the character who disguised himself as a shadow and let himself be seen from time to time.
That frightened me so much!
That shadow, which I always ignored so as not to panic, that made my head spin and made my hair stand on end.
It was at this point that I noticed the presence of the mantis.
Somehow I felt that she would help me interpret the presence of this being floating above a petrified woman's head.
The first thing I thought I understood was that the mantis was not there to watch over me, but to alert me that I had better be on my guard, because that stone head represented my own, and it was from that head that this kind of unfriendly-looking demon came from.
It didn't take me long to interpret the image of the weirdo as the personification of my automatic response every time I got angry, which was undoubtedly the thing that drained my energy the most at the end of the day.
The first thing I did was the most counterproductive thing I could do, get angry at myself.
Because there wasn't a morning that went by that I didn't wake up with the firm intention of living in harmony, and equally the conflicts that rained down on me from all sides!
- Tell me, how do I get rid of these reactions of mine that I can't change, and why does something or someone always come along to tickle me and defeat me? - I asked the mantis.
It didn't say anything, but at that moment I remembered the creature my son had told me about, the pixelated worm!
-Now I get it! Whatever it is, it's corrupting me.
And from how old it looks, it must have been there for centuries.
How is it possible that I haven't seen it until now?- I wondered perplexed.
-Because you saw it pixelated! You were looking at it so close that you couldn't get a clear image!- I replied, perplexed.
And then I wondered how much that ghost had to do with the pain of repetition and the frustration of not being able to change that haunted me.
That's how I came to the conclusion that the one I had christened Wind Goblin was a corrupt pixelated worm, a parasite that haunted me.
I blamed him for the energy that meant that there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't get angry at home..... And I even made him responsible for my kitchen bench filling up with sand as if I lived in front of the beach (No matter how many times I wiped it down a day, it got dirty constantly).
What if he was the source of my frustration and helplessness, was it because of his existence that it was practically impossible for me to change the situation?
-You'd better tame the worm or he'll tear you to pieces!- I remember saying to myself, unaware that I had just uttered a prophecy.
31/05/24
With ages comes wisdom! And this one, as old as he was, knew me for an eternity! Long enough to know all my weak points and a thousand ways to get on my nerves.
Obviously, when I finished this drawing and wrote this post, I had no idea what I was up against.
Nor did I imagine the damage that the worm disguised as a goblin, which others already recognised and named, could do to me.
I wasted so much time believing that I could defeat him just by setting my mind to it... How deluded I was to think that one day I would manage to tame him!
If only I had known before that the only solution was to kill it, and that it would only starve to death!
In my case, a most difficult task, since I had overfed it for so many years that it had plenty of reserves to fast and continue to stalk me with all its might for a few more centuries.
Had I known that the best weapon against him was to avoid moments of distraction to anticipate his arrival, I imagine I would not have let my guard down so much in the months to come....
Today I know that I must focus on staying alert to see him coming, and that I had better do so, because unfortunately, he is not the type to knock on the door and ask permission to enter....
He has already shown me that his speciality is to slip through any crack, and that once inside, he sweeps in like a tornado and there is nothing you can do except wait for the storm to pass, deal with the chaos caused and leave everything in ruins, and regret that you could not have prevented it.
I discovered all this very recently, after stumbling upon a video that I didn't look for, and that perfectly relates my destructive relationship with this toxic energy created by me.
Thanks to the information I found there, not only am I more aware of the way it operates, but I can see its trajectory along my life.... I can even recognize him around me when I was four! From that age comes the memory of my first fit of rage.
That was a long time ago, and yet I remember it as if it were yesterday....
I was in the kindergarten classroom and next to me there was a little girl, whose face I can't put a face to, who was slyly making marks with a pencil on my desk.
I remember the teacher Herminia with her back turned, writing something on the blackboard, and me, silently, annoyed, erasing the pencil marks over and over again...
And suddenly, just my image, standing with a black permanent marker in my hand, which I don't know where I got it from, snorting like a bull, feeling as if I had fire in my body and painting with all my might on the desk of that child, before the astonished gaze of her, the teacher and all my classmates....
Thanks to this, I got a good scolding from the teacher, followed by another one from my mother at home, and the arduous task of cleaning the classmate's desk with a scouring pad until there was no trace of ink left...
But the worst thing was not any of the aforementioned as I had no regrets, but the rage I felt at seeing that little girl mocking me while I was paying the price for something she had started...All because of my explosive reaction!
As the years went by, I made an effort to learn to control my anger so as not to explode, I learned to complain earlier and to put up with less... But, it seems I didn't do enough... It is a fact that Mr. Rage continued to grow in the shadows!
It is today that I see that it was I who helped that monster become so strong that it not only became independent, but furiously reactive, which almost drove me mad, and ended up blindly leading me through a 2023 that led to my total collapse.
Today, at least, most days I can see it coming and I manage to stop it before I see red. When that happens, I always shout at him:
-"Here again, Broncas?, don't you ever get tired? Leave me alone!, I don't want to feed you today either!
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