<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:56:53.271-08:00</updated><category term='lavoro'/><category term='Gabriel Garcìa Màrquez'/><category term='formiche'/><category term='mondo migliore'/><category term='perdono'/><category term='maternità'/><category term='Rabindranath Tagore'/><category term='Tagore'/><category term='Itaca'/><category term='Shyam'/><category term='api'/><category term='Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)'/><category term='umanità'/><category term='amicizia'/><category term='pensieri positivi'/><category term='bambini'/><category term='cortesia'/><category term='radha'/><category term='azioni'/><category term='anima'/><category term='sogno di bimbi'/><category term='parole'/><category term='maggio'/><category term='ambiente'/><category term='pensiero'/><category term='madre'/><category term='profumo enlightment'/><category term='pioggia'/><category term='Alessandro Manzoni'/><category term='krishna'/><category term='Mantra Pushpam'/><category term='amore'/><category term='ascoltare'/><category term='bellezza unicef'/><category term='ritmo'/><category term='Kahlil Gibran'/><category term='volontariato'/><category term='albero'/><category term='incontro'/><category term='mente'/><category term='world'/><category term='festa della mamma'/><category term='Walter Gioia'/><category term='bhagavad geeta'/><category term='Yoga'/><category term='farfalla'/><category term='amma'/><category term='sole'/><category term='consapevolezza'/><category term='vita'/><category term='patate'/><category term='Indiani d&apos;America'/><category term='bambù'/><category term='Igor Krutoi'/><category term='Buddha'/><category term='tempo'/><category term='Neruda'/><category term='Tao'/><category term='Love'/><category term='holi'/><category term='racconti'/><category term='cielo'/><category term='madre teresa'/><category term='natura'/><category term='milano'/><category term='felicità'/><category term='tramonto'/><category term='silenzio'/><title type='text'>Life's little Joys</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-878892731782953431</id><published>2010-07-12T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T12:45:25.737-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Itaca'/><title type='text'>Itaca</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Kavafis, Itaca&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando ti metterai in viaggio per Itaca&lt;br /&gt;devi augurarti che la strada sia lunga&lt;br /&gt;fertile in avventure e in esperienze.&lt;br /&gt;I Lestrigoni e i Ciclopi&lt;br /&gt;o la furia di Nettuno non temere,&lt;br /&gt;non sarà questo il genere d'incontri&lt;br /&gt;se il pensiero resta alto e il sentimento&lt;br /&gt;fermo guida il tuo spirito e il tuo corpo.&lt;br /&gt;In Ciclopi e Lestrigoni, no certo&lt;br /&gt;né nell'irato Nettuno incapperai&lt;br /&gt;se non li porti dentro&lt;br /&gt;se l'anima non te li mette contro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devi augurarti che la strada sia lunga&lt;br /&gt;che i mattini d'estate siano tanti&lt;br /&gt;quando nei porti - finalmente e con che gioia -&lt;br /&gt;toccherai terra tu per la prima volta:&lt;br /&gt;negli empori fenici indugia e acquista&lt;br /&gt;madreperle coralli ebano e ambre&lt;br /&gt;tutta merce fina, anche aromi&lt;br /&gt;penetranti d'ogni sorta, più aromi&lt;br /&gt;inebrianti che puoi,&lt;br /&gt;va in molte città egizie&lt;br /&gt;impara una quantità di cose dai dotti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre devi avere in mente Itaca&lt;br /&gt;- raggiungerla sia il pensiero costante.&lt;br /&gt;Soprattutto, non affrettare il viaggio;&lt;br /&gt;fa che duri a lungo,per anni, e che da vecchio&lt;br /&gt;metta piede sull'isola, tu, ricco&lt;br /&gt;dei tesori accumulati per strada&lt;br /&gt;senza aspettarti ricchezze da Itaca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Itaca ti ha dato il bel viaggio,&lt;br /&gt;senza di lei mai ti saresti messo&lt;br /&gt;in viaggio: che cos'altro ti aspetti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se la trovi povera, non per questo Itaca ti avrà deluso.&lt;br /&gt;Fatto ormai savio, con tutta la tua esperienza addosso&lt;br /&gt;Già tu avrai capito ciò che Itaca vuole significare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-878892731782953431?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/878892731782953431/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/07/itaca.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/878892731782953431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/878892731782953431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/07/itaca.html' title='Itaca'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-6076414236561452756</id><published>2010-06-27T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T16:01:05.364-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensieri positivi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mente'/><title type='text'>La valle dei fiori</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;C'era una volta un bambino che viveva vicino ad una valle e che aveva l'abitudine lasciarsi incantare dal suono che faceva eco dall'altra parte della valle ogni volta che gridava ad alta voce. Immaginava che ci fosse un altro ragazzino come lui che abitava dall'altra parte della valle. Quello che era cominciato come un gioco divertente si era presto trasformato in qualcosa di ostile. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487590234795837186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/TCfWPnnohwI/AAAAAAAABB4/fdSRqg2ftgQ/s400/bambini.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ti odio!" gridava. "Ti odio!" "Ti odio!" rispondeva l'eco.&lt;br /&gt;"E' un tipo orribile, lo odio!" si lamentava il piccolo con sua madre.&lt;br /&gt;"Almeno per una volta, perchè non provi a dirgli 'Ti voglio bene'?", gli suggerì un giorno sua madre.&lt;br /&gt;Il bambino accettò a malincuore e superando il suo odio, gridò nella valle a quanto più non posso: " ti voglio bene!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Venne la risposta: "ti voglio bene! Ti voglio bene!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il ragazzo si precipitò di corsa da sua madre per annunciare emozionato: "Mamma, ho un amico d'altra parte!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;La nostra mente è come la valle di questa storia. Tutti i pensieri 'rimbalzano' rinforzando l'origine del pensiero che li ha generati. E' importante avere sempre dei pensieri puri. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-6076414236561452756?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/6076414236561452756/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/06/la-valle-dei-fiori.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6076414236561452756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6076414236561452756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/06/la-valle-dei-fiori.html' title='La valle dei fiori'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/TCfWPnnohwI/AAAAAAAABB4/fdSRqg2ftgQ/s72-c/bambini.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1914700290679062913</id><published>2010-04-29T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T15:15:19.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chiedere SEMPRE, mai dare per scontato...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;His request approved, the CNN News photographer quickly used a cell phone to call the local airport to charter a flight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 227px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465683056791027842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S9oByB7mgII/AAAAAAAAA8o/h3wZc38DnoU/s320/Beechcraft_Baron_G58_aerial1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;He was told a twin-engine plane would be waiting for him at the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arriving at the airfield, he spotted a plane warming up outside a hanger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He jumped in with his bag, slammed the door shut, and shouted, 'Let's go'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pilot taxied out, swung the plane into the wind and took off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Once in the air, the photographer instructed the pilot, 'Fly over the valley and make low passes so I can take pictures of the fires on the hillsides.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Why?' asked the pilot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'Because I'm a photographer for CNN' , he responded, 'and I need to get&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;some close up shots.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The pilot was strangely silent for a moment, finally he stammered, 'So, what you're telling me, is . . . You're&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; my flight instructor?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Life is short.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Someone said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When you &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ASSUME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you make&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ASS&lt;/span&gt; out of&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; U&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ME&lt;/span&gt;.... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1914700290679062913?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1914700290679062913/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/04/chiedere-sempre-mai-dare-per-scontato.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1914700290679062913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1914700290679062913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/04/chiedere-sempre-mai-dare-per-scontato.html' title='chiedere SEMPRE, mai dare per scontato...'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S9oByB7mgII/AAAAAAAAA8o/h3wZc38DnoU/s72-c/Beechcraft_Baron_G58_aerial1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5116928036810420387</id><published>2010-04-28T00:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:20:38.722-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perdono'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='patate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tao'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><title type='text'>Il sacco di patate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S9fl_LpXKoI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Nqx1vVqRTzY/s1600/prayerweels.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465089546458180226" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S9fl_LpXKoI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Nqx1vVqRTzY/s200/prayerweels.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Un giorno un saggio diede al suo discepolo un sacco vuoto e un cesto di patate. ‘Pensa a tutte le persone che hanno fatto o detto qualcosa contro di te recentemente, in particolare a coloro che non puoi perdonare. Per ciascuno di essi incidi il suo nome su una patata e mettila nel sacco.’ Il discepolo arrivò con un bel po’ di nomi e presto il suo sacco fu bello pesante.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S9fksuxcagI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/2ZKknUhQysU/s1600/prayerweels.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;'Porta il sacco con te ovunque tu vada per una settimana’ disse il saggio. ‘ dopodichè ne riparleremo.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All’inizio il discepolo non ci diede molta importanza. Trasportare il sacco non era particolarmente difficile. Ma dopo un po’ era diventato un peso. A volte era un intralcio e più il tempo passava sembrava richiedere più sforzo per portarlo sebbene il peso fosse sempre lo stesso. Dopo qualche giorno il sacco cominciò a puzzare. Le patate incise iniziarono ad emanare un odore intenso. Non solo erano sempre più scomode da trasportare, iniziavano a diventare anche piuttosto sgradevoli. Infine la settimana terminò. Il saggio convocò il discepolo. ‘ Hai qualche idea su tutto questo?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Sì, Maestro,’ rispose il discepolo. ‘Quando siamo incapaci di perdonare gli altri, trasportiamo con noi sentimenti negativi ovunque, come queste patate. La negatività finisce per diventare un peso e dopo un po’ diventa una piaga.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Sì, è proprio quello che succede quando si serba rancore. Allora, come si fa per alleggerire il peso?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Dobbiamo sforzarci di perdonare.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Perdonare qualcuno equivale a rimuovere la patata corrispondente dal sacco. Quanti dei tuoi trasgressori sei in grado di perdonare?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ci ho pensato bene, Maestro,' disse il discepolo. 'E’ stato necessario tanto lavoro, ma ho deciso di perdonarli tutti.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S9fmOBLSdvI/AAAAAAAAA8g/a96l_bVdtdQ/s1600/potatoe-sack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465089801345726194" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S9fmOBLSdvI/AAAAAAAAA8g/a96l_bVdtdQ/s320/potatoe-sack.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 100px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 120px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;'Molto bene, puoi togliere tutte le patate. Ci sono state delle persone che si sono comportate male nei tuoi confronti questa settimana?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il discepolo ci pensò un poco e ammise che ce n’erano state. Poi fu colto dal panico all’idea che il suo sacco vuoto stava per essere riempito nuovamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Maestro,' domandò , 'se andiamo avanti così, settimana dopo settima, non ci saranno sempre patate nel sacco?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Sì, fino a quando qualcuno parlerà male di te o si comporterà male nei tuoi confronti, avrai sempre delle patate.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ma Maestro, non potremo mai controllare ciò che fanno gli altri. A che serve allora il Tao in questo caso?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Non siamo ancora nel regno del Tao. Tutto ciò di cui abbiamo parlato finora è l’approccio convenzionale al perdono. E’ la stessa cosa che le filosofie e la maggior parte delle religioni predicano – bisogna sempre sforzarsi di perdonare, perché è una virtù importante. Questo non è il Tao, perché nel Tao non c’è nessuno sforzo.'&lt;br /&gt;'Che cos’è allora il Tao, Maestro?'&lt;br /&gt;'Lo puoi capire da te. Se le patate sono i sentimenti negativi, che cos’è allora il sacco?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Il sacco è... ciò che mi consente di tenere in mano la negatività. E’ qualcosa dentro di noi che ci fa soffermare sul sentiment offeso…. Ah, è il mio senso gonfiato di importanza. '&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'E cosa succede se lo lasci andare?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Allora... le cose che le persone fanno o dicono contro di me non sembrano più essere cose importanti.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'In tal caso, non avrai più nomi da incidere sulle patate. Ciò significa non dover portare pesi in giro, e niente cattivi odori.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il Tao del perdono è una decisione consapevole non solo per rimuovere alcune patate…ma per abbandonare tutto il sacco. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5116928036810420387?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5116928036810420387/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/04/il-sacco-di-patate.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5116928036810420387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5116928036810420387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/04/il-sacco-di-patate.html' title='Il sacco di patate'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S9fl_LpXKoI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Nqx1vVqRTzY/s72-c/prayerweels.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-7592449147797729092</id><published>2010-03-29T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T05:31:30.490-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='profumo enlightment'/><title type='text'>Il profumo della Realizzazione</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S7CbWWr9zjI/AAAAAAAAA6o/tQa0sgjVphg/s1600/armana1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 312px; display: block; height: 400px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454029957095083570" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S7CbWWr9zjI/AAAAAAAAA6o/tQa0sgjVphg/s400/armana1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(uno scherzo di qualcuno online...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-7592449147797729092?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/7592449147797729092/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/03/il-profumo-dellilluminazione.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7592449147797729092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7592449147797729092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/03/il-profumo-dellilluminazione.html' title='Il profumo della Realizzazione'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S7CbWWr9zjI/AAAAAAAAA6o/tQa0sgjVphg/s72-c/armana1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-2032615113724711463</id><published>2010-01-26T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T00:38:44.255-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mantra Pushpam'/><title type='text'>L'offerta del Mantra dei Fiori</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mantra Pushpam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(Il fiore dei Canti Vedici) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;È consuetudine recitare il Pushpam Manthra, o una versione più breve, a conclusione di tutti i principali rituali di preghiera nei templi e delle puja . Spesso si offrono i fiori (pushpam) alle divinità in questo momento. Ad Amritapuri viene recitato occasionalmente durante la Pada Puja.&lt;br /&gt;Fa parte delle scritture chiamate Surya Namaskara Prasnam ed è considerato non solo un elogio alla divinità suprema, ma anche un canto sull’origine e l’evoluzione delle forze naturali come l'acqua, l’aria, fuoco, la terra, il Sole e le stelle.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 193px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431203485165776914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S1-Cy0QrcBI/AAAAAAAAA10/bclcAII0iQw/s200/gelsomino.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Chi conosce i fiori dell’acqua ,&lt;br /&gt;Possiede i fiori, fanciulli e bestiame,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Chi conosce la fonte dell’acqua, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La Luna è il fiore dell’acqua, e chi lo sa,&lt;br /&gt;possiede fiori, bambini e bestiame ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il fuoco è la fonte dell’acqua, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;L’ acqua è la fonte del fuoco, è chi lo sa, dimora nel Sè.&lt;br /&gt;Chi conosce la fonte dell’acqua, dimora nel Sè .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L’aria è la fonte dell’acqua, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé ,&lt;br /&gt;L’acqua è la fonte dell’aria, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé,&lt;br /&gt;Chi conosce la fonte dell’acqua, dimora nel Sé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il sole cocente è la fonte dell’acqua, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;L’acqua è la fonte del sole cocente, e chi lo sa dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;Chi conosce la fonte dell’acqua dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La luna è la fonte dell’acqua e chi lo sa dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;L’acqua è la fonte della luna, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;Chi conosce la fonte dell’acqua , dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le stelle sono la fonte dell’acqua, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;L’acqua è la fonte delle stelle, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;Chi conosce la fonte del’acqua, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le nubi sono la fonte dell’acqua, e chi lo sa dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;L’acqua è la fonte delle nubi, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;Chi conosce la fonte dell’acqua, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La stagione delle piogge è la fonte dell’acqua, e chi lo sa, dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;L’acqua è la fonte della stagione delle piogge, e chi lo sa dimora nel Sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chi sa che c’è una zattera disponibile, dimora in quella zattera. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-2032615113724711463?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/2032615113724711463/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/lofferta-del-mantra-dei-fiori.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/2032615113724711463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/2032615113724711463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/lofferta-del-mantra-dei-fiori.html' title='L&apos;offerta del Mantra dei Fiori'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S1-Cy0QrcBI/AAAAAAAAA10/bclcAII0iQw/s72-c/gelsomino.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1639177263248725786</id><published>2010-01-19T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T00:13:42.121-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Con te nella distanza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S1VpCeFOz4I/AAAAAAAAA0E/5TvrGt9kLNo/s1600-h/Krishna+e+Radha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 298px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428360417020661634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S1VpCeFOz4I/AAAAAAAAA0E/5TvrGt9kLNo/s400/Krishna+e+Radha.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Non esiste un momento del giorno&lt;br /&gt;In cui posso allontanarti da me:&lt;br /&gt;Il mondo appare diverso&lt;br /&gt;quando non mi sei vicina.&lt;br /&gt;Non c'è bella melodia&lt;br /&gt;In cui non appaia tu,&lt;br /&gt;Né desidero ascoltarla&lt;br /&gt;Se mi manchi tu.&lt;br /&gt;E' che sei diventata&lt;br /&gt;una parte della mia Anima,&lt;br /&gt;ed ora nulla mi soddisfa&lt;br /&gt;se non ci sei anche tu.&lt;br /&gt;Più in là delle tue labbra,&lt;br /&gt;oltre il sole e le stelle,&lt;br /&gt;con te nella distanza,&lt;br /&gt;amata mia io resterò.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(César Portillo de La Luz)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1639177263248725786?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1639177263248725786/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/con-te-nella-distanza.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1639177263248725786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1639177263248725786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/con-te-nella-distanza.html' title='Con te nella distanza'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S1VpCeFOz4I/AAAAAAAAA0E/5TvrGt9kLNo/s72-c/Krishna+e+Radha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-3337236209571288406</id><published>2010-01-13T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T14:04:16.368-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tramonto'/><title type='text'>Sunset in Castellanza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S05DFGe_GII/AAAAAAAAAy4/gkXpqKj2sW8/s1600-h/Castellanza-750600.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426348355947010178" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S05DFGe_GII/AAAAAAAAAy4/gkXpqKj2sW8/s400/Castellanza-750600.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-3337236209571288406?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/3337236209571288406/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/sunset-in-castellanza.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3337236209571288406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3337236209571288406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/sunset-in-castellanza.html' title='Sunset in Castellanza'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S05DFGe_GII/AAAAAAAAAy4/gkXpqKj2sW8/s72-c/Castellanza-750600.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-7516470445579172757</id><published>2010-01-05T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T15:11:31.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>la migliore vitamina</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S0PFXc4qQnI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/rdA6n_C-LHQ/s1600-h/yoga-junky-monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 314px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423395382965715570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S0PFXc4qQnI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/rdA6n_C-LHQ/s320/yoga-junky-monkey.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"....the best vitamin to be a happy person???"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;" B1!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-7516470445579172757?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/7516470445579172757/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/la-migliore-vitamina.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7516470445579172757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7516470445579172757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/la-migliore-vitamina.html' title='la migliore vitamina'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S0PFXc4qQnI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/rdA6n_C-LHQ/s72-c/yoga-junky-monkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-8282826967696582127</id><published>2010-01-05T13:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T15:10:10.079-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S0Ox-fQB2yI/AAAAAAAAAyI/I4pzTvhITvM/s1600-h/happiness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 307px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423374063382944546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S0Ox-fQB2yI/AAAAAAAAAyI/I4pzTvhITvM/s400/happiness.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;un nuovo anno...&lt;br /&gt;un altro anno da vivere! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;per amare, ridere e donare&lt;br /&gt;questo radioso nuovo anno&lt;br /&gt;è stato donato affinché ogni attimo sia vissuto al meglio…&lt;br /&gt;per crescere, amare e realizzare i sogni!&lt;br /&gt;per rimediare agli errori e riprovare &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;per pregare per la pace, piantare un albero,&lt;br /&gt;e cantare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;sukhrita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-8282826967696582127?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/8282826967696582127/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/happiness.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8282826967696582127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8282826967696582127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2010/01/happiness.html' title='happiness'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/S0Ox-fQB2yI/AAAAAAAAAyI/I4pzTvhITvM/s72-c/happiness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-7101930945721008395</id><published>2009-12-16T01:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:21:04.580-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><title type='text'>Le quattro candele</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Syizlx_a2gI/AAAAAAAAAtU/Tv0yJCDSNXc/s1600-h/candles-01.bmp"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415776013568891394" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Syizlx_a2gI/AAAAAAAAAtU/Tv0yJCDSNXc/s400/candles-01.bmp" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 350px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 315px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Le quattro candele bruciavano lentamente, l’atmosfera era così sottile che le si potevano sentire parlare.&lt;br /&gt;La prima candela disse: "Io sono la &lt;strong&gt;Pace&lt;/strong&gt;, ma in questi giorni, nessuno mi vuole tenere accesa.” Quindi fiamma della Pace diminuì lentamente fino a spegnersi completamente.&lt;br /&gt;La seconda candela disse: "Io sono la &lt;strong&gt;Fede&lt;/strong&gt;, ma in questi giorni, non sono indispensabile". Quindi la fiamma della fede diminuì lentamente fino a spegnersi.&lt;br /&gt;La terza candela disse: " Io sono l’&lt;strong&gt;Amore&lt;/strong&gt; e non ho più la forza per restare ancora accesa. Le persone mi mettono da parte e si dimenticano di amare persino coloro che sono vicini” e la candela si spense completamente.&lt;br /&gt;Entrò nella stanza un bambino e vedendo le tre candele spente cominciò a piangere. “Perché non bruciate? Dovreste restare accese fino alla fine!”&lt;br /&gt;Si fece avanti la quarta candela che disse al bambino: “Non temere, sono la &lt;strong&gt;Speranza&lt;/strong&gt; e finché sono ancora accesa possiamo riaccendere le altre candele.” Con gli occhi luminosi di gioia il bimbo prese la candela della Speranza e riaccese tutte e tre le candele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fate che la fiamma della &lt;strong&gt;Speranza&lt;/strong&gt; non si spenga mai e la &lt;strong&gt;Pace&lt;/strong&gt;, la &lt;strong&gt;Fede&lt;/strong&gt; e l’&lt;strong&gt;Amore&lt;/strong&gt; brilleranno sempre nella vostra vita. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-7101930945721008395?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/7101930945721008395/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/12/le-quattro-candele.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7101930945721008395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7101930945721008395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/12/le-quattro-candele.html' title='Le quattro candele'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Syizlx_a2gI/AAAAAAAAAtU/Tv0yJCDSNXc/s72-c/candles-01.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1317832029420070345</id><published>2009-11-26T01:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:21:29.136-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bhagavad geeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><title type='text'>Bhagavath Geetha e il cesto del carbone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sw5igs-QasI/AAAAAAAAAsg/iPNvbBVld3A/s1600/Krishna_instructs_Arjuna.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408368516486163138" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sw5igs-QasI/AAAAAAAAAsg/iPNvbBVld3A/s400/Krishna_instructs_Arjuna.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;C’era una volta un vecchio contadino che viveva in una fattoria sulla montagna insieme al giovane nipote. Ogni mattina il nonno si alzava presto per sedersi in cucina a leggere la Bhagavath Geetha. Suo nipote desiderava essere proprio come lui e provava ad imitarlo in ogni cosa.&lt;br /&gt;Un giorno il nipote disse: “ Nonno, provo a leggere la Bhagavath Geetha esattamente come fai tu, ma non la capisco e quello che capisco lo dimentico non appena chiudo il libro. A che serve leggere la Bhagavath Geetha? "&lt;br /&gt;Il nonno che stava mettendo il carbone nella stufa si girò con calma e chiese: “Porta questo cesto per il carbone al fiume e riportamelo pieno d’acqua. “&lt;br /&gt;Il ragazzo fece quello che gli fu chiesto, ma tutta l’acqua colò fuori dalla cesta ancor prima che arrivasse a casa. Ridendo il nonno gli disse: “ La prossima volta prova a correre un po’ più veloce “ e lo mandò di nuovo al fiume con la cesta per riprovare. Questa volta il ragazzo corse ancora più di fretta, ma il cesto era di nuovo vuoto ancor prima che arrivasse a casa. Senza fiato disse al nonno che era impossibile postare l’acqua in quel modo e che sarebbe stato necessario un secchio.&lt;br /&gt;L’anziano rispose: “Non voglio un secchio d’acqua, voglio un cesto d’acqua. Non ti stai impegnando abbastanza “ e uscì dalla porta per vedere il ragazzo riprovare.&lt;br /&gt;A questo punto il ragazzo pur sapendo che sarebbe stata un’impresa impossibile volle dimostrare al nonno che l’acqua sarebbe colata via ancor prima di raggiungere casa.&lt;br /&gt;Immerse la cesta nel fiume e corse veloce, ma quando arrivò il cesto era di nuovo vuoto. Senza fiato disse: “ Vedi nonno, è inutile!”&lt;br /&gt;"Perché pensi che sia inutile?” disse l’anziano, “ Guarda il cesto.” Il ragazzo guardò il cesto e per la prima volta si rese conto che era diverso. Era stato trasformato da uno sporco vecchio cesto di carbone in un cesto pulito dentro e fuori.&lt;br /&gt;"Figlio, succede la stessa cosa quando si legge la Bhagavath Geetha. Si potrebbe non capire o ricordare tutto, ma quando la si legge si viene trasformati, dentro e fuori.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1317832029420070345?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1317832029420070345/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/11/cera-una-volta-un-vecchio-contadino-che.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1317832029420070345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1317832029420070345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/11/cera-una-volta-un-vecchio-contadino-che.html' title='Bhagavath Geetha e il cesto del carbone'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sw5igs-QasI/AAAAAAAAAsg/iPNvbBVld3A/s72-c/Krishna_instructs_Arjuna.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4458379060261788155</id><published>2009-11-26T00:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T00:31:20.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn Joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sw48wxIxfmI/AAAAAAAAAsY/_O7oI10-JBQ/s1600/beautiful+autumn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408327011040067170" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sw48wxIxfmI/AAAAAAAAAsY/_O7oI10-JBQ/s400/beautiful+autumn.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4458379060261788155?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4458379060261788155/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/11/autumn-joy.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4458379060261788155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4458379060261788155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/11/autumn-joy.html' title='Autumn Joy'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sw48wxIxfmI/AAAAAAAAAsY/_O7oI10-JBQ/s72-c/beautiful+autumn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-7245507628680749235</id><published>2009-11-09T14:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T14:31:09.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'>enlightenment....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SviX4YJQUhI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/1_IzzeM8M7E/s1600-h/Enlightment.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 349px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402234747840647698" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SviX4YJQUhI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/1_IzzeM8M7E/s400/Enlightment.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-7245507628680749235?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/7245507628680749235/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/11/enlightenment.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7245507628680749235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7245507628680749235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/11/enlightenment.html' title='enlightenment....'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SviX4YJQUhI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/1_IzzeM8M7E/s72-c/Enlightment.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-6083290611405638084</id><published>2009-11-01T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T23:33:08.337-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milano'/><title type='text'>...oggi pioggia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Su6BmfAR1TI/AAAAAAAAApg/GQhVnW9vOek/s1600-h/milano_pioggia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 255px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399395501421483314" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Su6BmfAR1TI/AAAAAAAAApg/GQhVnW9vOek/s400/milano_pioggia.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-6083290611405638084?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/6083290611405638084/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/11/oggi-pioggia-su-milano.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6083290611405638084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6083290611405638084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/11/oggi-pioggia-su-milano.html' title='...oggi pioggia'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Su6BmfAR1TI/AAAAAAAAApg/GQhVnW9vOek/s72-c/milano_pioggia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4799884932386710282</id><published>2009-10-30T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T17:33:24.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SuuFrbfPYSI/AAAAAAAAApQ/fGGuZUUeNYY/s1600-h/funny_halloween_pumpkin-11389.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398555559493329186" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SuuFrbfPYSI/AAAAAAAAApQ/fGGuZUUeNYY/s400/funny_halloween_pumpkin-11389.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4799884932386710282?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4799884932386710282/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/10/halloween.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4799884932386710282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4799884932386710282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/10/halloween.html' title='Halloween....'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SuuFrbfPYSI/AAAAAAAAApQ/fGGuZUUeNYY/s72-c/funny_halloween_pumpkin-11389.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4042793044950601473</id><published>2009-10-30T15:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T15:59:22.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mandala d'autunno</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sutvp34X7gI/AAAAAAAAApA/TaRH1D-eDso/s1600-h/Mandala+d%27autunno.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398531343499390466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sutvp34X7gI/AAAAAAAAApA/TaRH1D-eDso/s400/Mandala+d%27autunno.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4042793044950601473?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4042793044950601473/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/10/mandala-dautunno.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4042793044950601473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4042793044950601473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/10/mandala-dautunno.html' title='Mandala d&apos;autunno'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sutvp34X7gI/AAAAAAAAApA/TaRH1D-eDso/s72-c/Mandala+d%27autunno.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-3811278681083657895</id><published>2009-10-29T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T02:37:43.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You are U n i q u E</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sut9F8tJLcI/AAAAAAAAApI/3iM6xpZn2K8/s1600-h/Unique.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398546119481961922" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sut9F8tJLcI/AAAAAAAAApI/3iM6xpZn2K8/s400/Unique.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;SOLO PERCHE' SEI UNICO NON SIGNIFICA CHE SEI UTILE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-3811278681083657895?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/3811278681083657895/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post_29.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3811278681083657895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3811278681083657895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post_29.html' title='You are U n i q u E'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sut9F8tJLcI/AAAAAAAAApI/3iM6xpZn2K8/s72-c/Unique.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5406704059210049369</id><published>2009-10-24T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T02:44:49.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dancing</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="420" height="235"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zlfKdbWwruY&amp;amp;hl=it&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zlfKdbWwruY&amp;hl=it&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="420" height="235"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5406704059210049369?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5406704059210049369/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/10/yyyeeeeessssss.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5406704059210049369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5406704059210049369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/10/yyyeeeeessssss.html' title='dancing'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-7329195693181141622</id><published>2009-09-11T04:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T04:33:18.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Il Volo del Calabrone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sqozf4xs1bI/AAAAAAAAAms/6mDg5Q1pkfA/s1600-h/il+calabrone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380169327757284786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sqozf4xs1bI/AAAAAAAAAms/6mDg5Q1pkfA/s320/il+calabrone.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Secondo alcuni autorevoli testi di tecnica di aeronautica, il calabrone non può volare, a causa della forma e del peso del proprio corpo in rapporto alla superficie alare. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma il calabrone non lo sa e perciò continua a volare" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I. Sikorsky&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-7329195693181141622?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/7329195693181141622/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/09/il-volo-del-calabrone.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7329195693181141622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7329195693181141622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/09/il-volo-del-calabrone.html' title='Il Volo del Calabrone'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sqozf4xs1bI/AAAAAAAAAms/6mDg5Q1pkfA/s72-c/il+calabrone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-386025646142924088</id><published>2009-07-14T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T03:15:11.149-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ascoltare'/><title type='text'>Simpatica storiella....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un uomo sta guidando su una tortuosa e stretta strada di montagna.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Una donna guida sulla stessa strada, ma in senso inverso.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nel momento in cui si incrociano, la donna apre il finestrino dell'auto e grida: "MAIALEEEE!!!!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L'uomo, immediatamente, apre il proprio finestrino e risponde: " P............A!!!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ognuno di essi continua per la propria strada, e appena l'uomo gira, al tornante successivo va a sbattere contro un grosso maiale al centro della strada. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MORALE: se solo le persone stessero ad ascoltare.......&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saper ascoltare è un'arte assai difficile da apprendere. Per prestare ascolto nel modo giusto, infatti, bisogna partire da uno stato di calma interiore, occorre imparare a non farsi distrarre da ciò che ci circonda e a non sforzarsi di controllare l'altro, in modo da dimostrare un'attenzione distaccata e tranquilla. E' necessario andare al di là delle proprie percezioni e dei propri pregiudizi, che si frappongono immancabilmente tra noi e il nostro interlocutore. La simpatica storiella che ho trovato ieri mi ha ricordato del bellissimo libro di Giuseppe Colombero “Dalle Parole al Dialogo” che consiglio di cuore.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-386025646142924088?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/386025646142924088/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/07/simpatica-storiella.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/386025646142924088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/386025646142924088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/07/simpatica-storiella.html' title='Simpatica storiella....'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-3384194808186425461</id><published>2009-07-09T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T14:50:52.011-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Indiani d&apos;America'/><title type='text'>Saggezza degli Indiani d'America</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La storia dei due lupi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356580132562214434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlZlQAxJHiI/AAAAAAAAAlU/5x4Fik3wZwE/s320/qualelupo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Una sera un vecchio Cherokee narrò al suo nipotino la storia della battaglia che si perpetua all'interno delle persone.&lt;br /&gt;Disse: “Figlio mio, la battaglia è tra i due “lupi” che vivono all’interno di tutti noi.&lt;br /&gt;Uno è cattivo. È rabbia, invidia, gelosia, dolore, rammarico, avidità, arroganza, autocommiserazione, colpa, risentimento, inferiorità, menzogna, falso orgoglio, superiorità e ego.&lt;br /&gt;L'altro è buono. È gioia, pace, amore, speranza, serenità, umiltà, gentilezza, benevolenza, empatia, generosità, verità, compassione e fede.”&lt;br /&gt;Il nipotino restò a pensarci per un minuto e poi chiese al nonno: “Quale lupo vince?”&lt;br /&gt;Il vecchio Cherokee rispose semplicemente: “ Quello a cui si da mangiare.” &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-3384194808186425461?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/3384194808186425461/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/07/saggezza-degli-indiani-damerica.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3384194808186425461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3384194808186425461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/07/saggezza-degli-indiani-damerica.html' title='Saggezza degli Indiani d&apos;America'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlZlQAxJHiI/AAAAAAAAAlU/5x4Fik3wZwE/s72-c/qualelupo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-8361798650189543952</id><published>2009-07-08T06:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T06:47:01.547-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yoga'/><title type='text'>Yoga indiano e Yoga irlandese</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Questo è uno studio comparato tra la scuola di Yoga indiano e la scuola di Yoga irlandese.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yoga indiano&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356082294339927906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlSgeA3j_2I/AAAAAAAAAlE/_cQJxm7WmSw/s320/yoga-indian.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sebbene lo Yoga indiano vanti un certo riconoscimento nel corso dei secoli ed abbia una rinomata tradizione anche lo stile di Yoga irlandese è molto apprezzato.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yoga irlandese&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356082675041082322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlSg0LFym9I/AAAAAAAAAlM/Qtx6A0ZENnk/s320/yoga-irish.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-8361798650189543952?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/8361798650189543952/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/07/yoga-indiano-e-yoga-irlandese.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8361798650189543952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8361798650189543952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/07/yoga-indiano-e-yoga-irlandese.html' title='Yoga indiano e Yoga irlandese'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlSgeA3j_2I/AAAAAAAAAlE/_cQJxm7WmSw/s72-c/yoga-indian.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-7314541963758868839</id><published>2009-07-06T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T15:35:04.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saggezza moderna....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlJ6oCrBwuI/AAAAAAAAAkk/Z4khvBpWFMQ/s1600-h/060926_google_search_guru.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355477735227638498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 179px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlJ6oCrBwuI/AAAAAAAAAkk/Z4khvBpWFMQ/s320/060926_google_search_guru.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlJ6KXdkuQI/AAAAAAAAAkc/rsfF1MgKTrI/s1600-h/060926_google_search_guru.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-7314541963758868839?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/7314541963758868839/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/07/saggezza-moderna.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7314541963758868839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7314541963758868839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/07/saggezza-moderna.html' title='Saggezza moderna....'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SlJ6oCrBwuI/AAAAAAAAAkk/Z4khvBpWFMQ/s72-c/060926_google_search_guru.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1391616043383302725</id><published>2009-06-28T13:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T13:43:14.176-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vita'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='consapevolezza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buddha'/><title type='text'>Vivere con consapevolezza</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Un giorno Buddha era in profonda meditazione sulle occupazioni mondane e il modo per instillare bontà negli esseri umani.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" color="#333333"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352473969822788226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SkfOt4jP6oI/AAAAAAAAAiE/sgvupBtx3vo/s320/Buddha%2520under%2520Tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" color="#333333"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Gli si avvicinò uno dei suoi discepoli che umilmente chiese: “ Oh mio Maestro! Poichè sei tanto preoccupato per il mondo e per gli altri, perché non ti prendi cura anche del benessere e delle esigenze dei tuoi discepoli?“&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Buddha: "OK... Dimmi in che modo ti posso aiutare." &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Discepolo: "Maestro! La mio abito è logoro oltre decenza. Potrei averne uno nuovo per favore?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Buddha constatò che la tunica era davvero molto lisa ed era necessario sostituirla. Chiese all’incaricato del magazzino di fornire al discepolo una nuova tunica da indossare. Il discepolo ringraziò Buddha, e si ritirò nella sua camera. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Dopo poco Buddha andò dal discepolo e gli chiese: “E’ comodo il tuo nuovo abito? Hai bisogno di qualcos’altro?”&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Discepolo: "Grazie mio Maestro. L’abito è davvero molto comodo e non ho bisogno di nient’altro.”&lt;br /&gt;Buddha: "Avendo ricevuto una tunica nuova cosa ne hai fatto di quella vecchia?” Discepolo: "La sto usando come copriletto.”&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Buddha: "Allora, …..spero che ti sei liberato del tuo vecchio copriletto." &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Discepolo: "No….no, Maestro. Sto usando il mio vecchio copriletto al posto della tenda.”&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Buddha: “ E che ne è stato della tua vecchia tenda? “&lt;br /&gt;Discepolo: "Viene usata per maneggiare gli utensili bollenti in cucina.” &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Buddha: "Oh.. capisco….Mi sai dire che ne è stato del vecchio straccio che usavano in cucina?" &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Discepolo: "Lo usano per lavarci il pavimento.”&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Buddha: "E allora…il vecchio straccio usato per per lavare il pavimento….?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Discepolo: "Maestro, era talmente sfilacciato che non si poteva trovare modo migliore per farne buon uso altro che come stoppino per la lampada ad olio, che ora sta illuminando il nostro studio….”&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="trebuchet ms" color="#333333"&gt;Buddha sorrise con soddisfazione e se ne andò nella sua camera. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" color="#333333"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1391616043383302725?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1391616043383302725/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/un-giorno-buddha-era-in-profonda.html#comment-form' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1391616043383302725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1391616043383302725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/un-giorno-buddha-era-in-profonda.html' title='Vivere con consapevolezza'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SkfOt4jP6oI/AAAAAAAAAiE/sgvupBtx3vo/s72-c/Buddha%2520under%2520Tree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4091795314453184419</id><published>2009-06-24T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T13:06:50.618-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='madre teresa'/><title type='text'>La bontà e la gioia negli occhi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SkKEsYPKfWI/AAAAAAAAAh8/d6Lem17OnHQ/s1600-h/sorriso.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350985205224734050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SkKEsYPKfWI/AAAAAAAAAh8/d6Lem17OnHQ/s320/sorriso.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SkKEDhqE0TI/AAAAAAAAAh0/2lSyzV2hMlk/s1600-h/sorriso.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fate che chiunque venga a voi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;se ne vada sentendosi meglio e più felice.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tutti devono vederela bontà del vostro viso,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nei vostri occhi,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nel vostro sorriso.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;La gioia traspare dagli occhi,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;si manifesta quando parliamo e camminiamo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Non può essere racchiusa dentro di noi.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Trabocca.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La gioia è molto contagiosa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Madre Teresa di Calcutta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4091795314453184419?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4091795314453184419/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/la-bonta-e-la-gioia-negli-occhi.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4091795314453184419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4091795314453184419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/la-bonta-e-la-gioia-negli-occhi.html' title='La bontà e la gioia negli occhi'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SkKEsYPKfWI/AAAAAAAAAh8/d6Lem17OnHQ/s72-c/sorriso.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1433214857750621407</id><published>2009-06-22T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T13:08:31.884-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kahlil Gibran'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lavoro'/><title type='text'>Il lavoro è lo specchio dell'amore</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Allora un contadino disse: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;"Parlaci del lavoro."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Voi lavorate per assecondare&lt;br /&gt;il ritmo e l’anima della terra.&lt;br /&gt;Il chiacchiere dell’oziosa furbizia&lt;br /&gt;è estranearsi dalle stagioni&lt;br /&gt;avanza in fiera sottomissione verso l’infinito.&lt;br /&gt;Quando lavorate voi stessi siete&lt;br /&gt;la canna che, attraverso l’assalto dei venti,&lt;br /&gt;si trasforma in musica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chi tra di voi vorrebbe essere un flauto silente&lt;br /&gt;quando tutti e gli altri cantano all’unisono?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre vi è stato detto che il lavoro&lt;br /&gt;è una maledizione e la fatica una sventura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma io dico a voi che quando lavorate appagate&lt;br /&gt;una parte del sogno primordiale della terra,&lt;br /&gt;che vi fu dato in sorte quando&lt;br /&gt;quel sogno stesso ebbe origine.&lt;br /&gt;E voi stessi, vivendo&lt;br /&gt;con la durezza delle vostre fatiche,&lt;br /&gt;amate in verità la stessa vita.&lt;br /&gt;Amando la vita attraverso questa fatica&lt;br /&gt;è farsi tutt’uno con il suo segreto più profondo.&lt;br /&gt;Ma se nella vostra pena voi crediate che nascere è dolore&lt;br /&gt;e il peso della carne è una maledizione scolpita sulla fronte,&lt;br /&gt;allora vi rispondo che nulla, tranne il sudore della fronte,&lt;br /&gt;potrà cancellare ciò che vi è stato scritto.&lt;br /&gt;Vi è stato anche detto che la vita è tenebre,&lt;br /&gt;e nella vostra stanchezza rimbomba l’eco&lt;br /&gt;delle parole dette dagli uomini stanchi.&lt;br /&gt;E io vi dico che in questo modo&lt;br /&gt;la vita è tenebre quando è senza impeto,&lt;br /&gt;E ogni impeto è cieco se non vi è conoscenza.&lt;br /&gt;E ogni conoscenza è vana se non vi è un lavoro&lt;br /&gt;E ogni lavoro è vuoto fuorché quando è amore.&lt;br /&gt;E quando lavorate con amore,&lt;br /&gt;voi stabilite un vincolo con voi stessi,&lt;br /&gt;con gli altri e con Dio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E che cos’è lavorare con amore?&lt;br /&gt;È tessere un abito coi fili del cuore,&lt;br /&gt;come se dovesse indossarlo il vostro amato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;È costruire una casa con dedizione,&lt;br /&gt;come se dovesse far dimora il vostro amato.&lt;br /&gt;È spargere teneramente i semi e assaporare il piacere&lt;br /&gt;del raccolto con soddisfazione,&lt;br /&gt;come se dovesse goderne il frutto il vostro amato.&lt;br /&gt;È sprigionare in tutto ciò che fate&lt;br /&gt;l’alito del vostro spirito,&lt;br /&gt;È sapere che tutti i venerati morti&lt;br /&gt;vigilano intorno a voi.&lt;br /&gt;Spesso vi ho udito dire,&lt;br /&gt;come se parlaste nel sonno:&lt;br /&gt;«Chi scolpisce il marmo,&lt;br /&gt;e scopre la forma della propria anima&lt;br /&gt;nella pietra, è più nobile di chi coltiva la terra.&lt;br /&gt;E chi afferra l’arcobaleno&lt;br /&gt;e lo stende sulla tela in immagine umana,&lt;br /&gt;è superiore a chi&lt;br /&gt;fabbrica sandali per i vostri piedi».&lt;br /&gt;Ma io vi dico che non è nel sonno,&lt;br /&gt;ma nel vigile e pieno mezzogiorno,&lt;br /&gt;che il vento carezzevolmente&lt;br /&gt;parla sia alla quercia gigante&lt;br /&gt;che al più piccolo filo d’erba;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E che è grande soltanto chi trasforma&lt;br /&gt;il languore del vento in un canto,&lt;br /&gt;reso ancora più dolce dal proprio amore.&lt;br /&gt;Il lavoro è lo specchio dell’amore.&lt;br /&gt;E se non riuscite a lavorare con amore,&lt;br /&gt;ma solo con disgusto, è meglio per voi&lt;br /&gt;smetterlo e, seduti alla porta del tempio,&lt;br /&gt;accettare l’elemosina da chi lavora con gioia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se nel fuoco mettete il pane con indifferenza,&lt;br /&gt;voi cuocete un pane amaro,&lt;br /&gt;che non potrà sfamare l’uomo del tutto.&lt;br /&gt;E spremendo l’uva controvoglia,&lt;br /&gt;la vostra riluttanza distillerà veleno nel vino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E anche se voi cantiate come angeli,&lt;br /&gt;ma non amate il canto, renderete l’uomo sordo&lt;br /&gt;alle voci del giorno e della notte.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Kahlil Gibran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;da "Il Profeta"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1433214857750621407?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1433214857750621407/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/il-lavoro-e-lo-specchio-dellamore.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1433214857750621407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1433214857750621407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/il-lavoro-e-lo-specchio-dellamore.html' title='Il lavoro è lo specchio dell&apos;amore'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5786869962045625372</id><published>2009-06-22T01:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T13:01:26.354-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alessandro Manzoni'/><title type='text'>Regala ciò che non hai</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Occupati dei guai, dei problemi del tuo prossimo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prenditi a cuore gli affanni, le esigenze di chi ti sta vicino..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Regala agli altri la luce che non hai, la forza che non possiedi, la speranza che senti vacillare in te, la fiducia di cui sei privo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Illuminali dal tuo buio. Arricchiscili con la tua povertà..Regala un sorriso quando tu hai voglia di piangere.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Produci serenità dalla tempesta che hai dentro.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Ecco, quello che NON HO te lo dono". Questo è il tuo paradosso. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ti accorgerai che la gioia a poco a poco entrerà in te, invaderà il tuo essere, diventerà veramente tua nella misura in cui l'avrai regalata agli altri. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;Alessandro Manzoni&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5786869962045625372?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5786869962045625372/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/regala-cio-che-non-hai.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5786869962045625372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5786869962045625372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/regala-cio-che-non-hai.html' title='Regala ciò che non hai'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-6704883086729896336</id><published>2009-06-19T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T14:52:09.191-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amore'/><title type='text'>Galline Selvagge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sjvb3Ui6XsI/AAAAAAAAAhU/ZxjPuaiyyYU/s1600-h/chickenlove2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349110725887024834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sjvb3Ui6XsI/AAAAAAAAAhU/ZxjPuaiyyYU/s320/chickenlove2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sjvbofm-9EI/AAAAAAAAAhM/L7zqB8KBjok/s1600-h/chickenlove2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SjvZU9rsqUI/AAAAAAAAAg8/QWoWoIWcPIA/s1600-h/chickenlove2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Ci credi nell'amore incondizionato ? "&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Dipende..."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-6704883086729896336?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/6704883086729896336/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/galline-selvagge.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6704883086729896336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6704883086729896336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/galline-selvagge.html' title='Galline Selvagge'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sjvb3Ui6XsI/AAAAAAAAAhU/ZxjPuaiyyYU/s72-c/chickenlove2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4478922409515519929</id><published>2009-06-19T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T13:00:42.579-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silenzio'/><title type='text'>L'esperienza del silenzio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un uomo si recò da un monaco di clausura.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gli chiese: "Che cosa impari mai dalla tua vita di silenzio?".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il monaco stava attingendo acqua da un pozzo e disse al suo visitatore: "Guarda giù nel pozzo! Che cosa vedi?".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L'uomo guardò nel pozzo. "Non vedo niente".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dopo un po' di tempo, in cui rimase perfettamente immobile, il monaco disse al visitatore: "Guarda ora! Che cosa vedi nel pozzo?".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L'uomo ubbidì e rispose: "Ora vedo me stesso: mi specchio nell'acqua".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il monaco disse: "Vedi, quando io immergo il secchio, l'acqua è agitata. Ora invece l'acqua è tranquilla. E questa l'esperienza del silenzio: l'uomo vede se stesso!".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4478922409515519929?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4478922409515519929/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/lesperienza-del-silenzio.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4478922409515519929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4478922409515519929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/lesperienza-del-silenzio.html' title='L&apos;esperienza del silenzio'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-542884001156024235</id><published>2009-06-15T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T19:39:06.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cows....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SjcAsvVp7xI/AAAAAAAAAgk/BJxMo5jDHIk/s1600-h/sacred_cows1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347743851147292434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 426px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SjcAsvVp7xI/AAAAAAAAAgk/BJxMo5jDHIk/s400/sacred_cows1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Chi è?"                         &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Questo è EGO" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Morde?"                     "Solo se non gli si presta attenzione!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-542884001156024235?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/542884001156024235/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_15.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/542884001156024235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/542884001156024235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_15.html' title='Cows....'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SjcAsvVp7xI/AAAAAAAAAgk/BJxMo5jDHIk/s72-c/sacred_cows1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-2005793058594636807</id><published>2009-06-14T14:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:19:48.259-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><title type='text'>Il modo di dire le cose</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un mattino, come spesso accadeva, il califfo Hamn al-Rashid chiamò un indovino e gli raccontò il seguente sogno: "Ho sognato che i miei denti cadevano l'uno dopo l'altro e alla fine la mia bocca restava senza denti. Cosa ne pensi?".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Oh! signore, non è un buon segno. Il sogno significa che i tuoi parenti moriranno prima di te e tu rimarrai solo! " gli disse l'indovino. Il califfo si rattristò e si infuriò a tal punto che ordinò all'esperto di non farsi più vedere. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quindi raccontò il sogno ad un altro mago. Questi gli rispose:"Oh! mio signore, è un buon segno. Il sogno prevede che la tua vita sarà lunga e che tu sopravviverai ai tuoi parenti e camperai più di tutti!". &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il califfo tutto contento disse: "Che bel sogno!", e diede cento denari all'esperto che lo aveva interpretato così bene.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Poi chiamò il visir e gli ordinò di cercare il primo indovino e di chiedergli scusa per come era stato cacciato dal palazzo. In fondo, il primo gli aveva rivelato la medesima cosa, ma aveva sbagliato la maniera di dirla.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-2005793058594636807?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/2005793058594636807/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/il-modo-di-dire-le-cose.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/2005793058594636807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/2005793058594636807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/il-modo-di-dire-le-cose.html' title='Il modo di dire le cose'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-3442818759778885040</id><published>2009-06-12T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:18:37.088-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><title type='text'>Il biscotto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SjKaC3YalUI/AAAAAAAAAfs/vstFRjR845g/s1600-h/Malpensa.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346505081658971458" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SjKaC3YalUI/AAAAAAAAAfs/vstFRjR845g/s400/Malpensa.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 255px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SjKZhvE17rI/AAAAAAAAAfk/gzFjJyasqyM/s1600-h/Malpensa.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nella sala d'attesa di un grande aeroporto una ragazza che aspettava il suo volo, sapendo di dover attendere a lungo, decise di comprare un libro per non annoiarsi. Per godersi meglio la lettura, comprò anche un pacchetto di biscotti ed andò nella sala vip per poter stare più tranquilla. Si sedette: accanto a lei c'era la sedia con i biscotti, dall'altro lato un signore che stava leggendo il giornale. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Quando prese il primo biscotto notò con suo grande disappunto che anche l'uomo accanto a lei ne aveva preso uno: si sentì profondamente indignata ma, per quieto vivere, preferì non dire nulla. Continuò a leggere il suo libro ma in realtà rimuginava sul fatto che se avesse avuto un po' più di coraggio, gliene avrebbe dette quattro... e magari gli avrebbe anche assestato un bel pugno in faccia, a quel grandissimo maleducato !!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Nel frattempo, ogni volta che lei prendeva un biscotto, l'uomo accanto a lei faceva altrettanto. Continuarono così finché nel pacchetto non rimase solo un biscotto: la ragazza esitò un istante, curiosa di vedere fino a che punto si spingeva l'arroganza di quell'uomo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Contrariamente ad ogni sua aspettativa, l'uomo prese l'ultimo biscotto e lo divise a metà, come se fosse la cosa più naturale del mondo. Questo era veramente troppo!!! La ragazza, indignata, si mise a sbuffare, raccolse in fretta e furia tutte le sue cose, il suo libro, la borsa e si incamminò verso l'uscita della sala d'attesa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Quando, sbollita un po' l'ira, cominciò a sentirsi un po' meglio, si sedette su una sedia lungo il corridoio per non attirare troppo l'attenzione ed evitare altri dispiaceri. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Chiuse il libro e aprì la borsa per infilarlo dentro quando... si avvide che il pacchetto di biscotti era ancora intatto al suo interno.Il viso le si arrossò immediatamente per la vergogna, e solo allora si rese conto del fatto che il pacchetto dei biscotti che aveva mangiato apparteneva all'uomo seduto accanto a lei, e che costui lo aveva condiviso spontaneamente con lei, senza sentirsi indignato, nervoso o superiore, senza sbuffare né sentirsi ferito nell'orgoglio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-3442818759778885040?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/3442818759778885040/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/il-biscotto.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3442818759778885040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3442818759778885040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/il-biscotto.html' title='Il biscotto'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SjKaC3YalUI/AAAAAAAAAfs/vstFRjR845g/s72-c/Malpensa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4839671433253568557</id><published>2009-06-11T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T14:17:30.902-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Igor Krutoi'/><title type='text'>Blue Planet - music Igor Krutoi</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SljA0xZAYD0&amp;amp;hl=it&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SljA0xZAYD0&amp;hl=it&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4839671433253568557?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4839671433253568557/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4839671433253568557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4839671433253568557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='Blue Planet - music Igor Krutoi'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5466700732715634368</id><published>2009-06-05T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T23:52:17.223-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ambiente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='world'/><title type='text'>Il mondo è casa nostra</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="384" height="288"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/G8IozVfph7I&amp;hl=it&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/G8IozVfph7I&amp;hl=it&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="384" height="288"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5466700732715634368?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5466700732715634368/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/il-mondo-e-casa-nostra.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5466700732715634368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5466700732715634368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/06/il-mondo-e-casa-nostra.html' title='Il mondo è casa nostra'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-6943341516788510264</id><published>2009-05-28T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:03:16.812-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mondo migliore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cortesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='consapevolezza'/><title type='text'>piccoli gesti</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Abbiamo spesso l’impressione di non avere il tempo o l’energia per far sì di arrivare agli altri attraverso quei piccoli gesti che chiamiamo cortesia. Come se questo tipo di consapevolezza sociale appartenesse al passato, a luoghi dai ritmi più lenti. Eppure, quando qualcuno ci raggiunge con questo tipo di cortesia, ne restiamo toccati. Quando ci viene offerta una mano mentre ci stiamo barcamenando con pesanti borse della spesa, restiamo sorpresi perché tutti gli altri attorno tirano dritto. Persino quando qualcuno fa lo sforzo di trovare il tempo per guardarci negli occhi, di sorriderci, di salutarci propriamente quando entriamo in una stanza, ci sembra strano, anacronistico. Ci sembra che quella persona ci porti con sé nel suo alone di grazia e di eleganza, in un altro tempo. E ci sentiamo grati. Ci sentiamo grati per averci consentito di aver avuto quel contatto. Quella piccola semplice cortesia fa una grande differenza.&lt;br /&gt;Un componente essenziale della cortesia è la consapevolezza, guardare fuori da se stessi per vedere se c’è qualcuno che ha bisogno di aiuto. Muoversi con consapevolezza tra gli altri, e poi la consapevolezza ci porta all’azione. Solitamente è chiaro cosa occorre fare. Aprire una porta a una donna con un bambino in braccio, fare attenzione a non occupare due posti quando si parcheggia, accogliere con un sorriso una persona timida, o scusarsi con chi abbiamo appena tagliato la strada. Un altro componente è quello di donare cortesia gratuitamente, senza aspettarsi nulla in cambio. Le persone probabilmente non se ne renderanno nemmeno conto, e tantomeno ci contraccambieranno la gentilezza, ma noi da parte nostra sapremo nel nostro cuore di aver contribuito con le nostre azioni a costruire quel mondo in cui ci piacerebbe vivere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-6943341516788510264?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/6943341516788510264/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/piccoli-gesti.html#comment-form' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6943341516788510264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6943341516788510264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/piccoli-gesti.html' title='piccoli gesti'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-3526801711931598530</id><published>2009-05-18T13:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:05:08.212-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='formiche'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='api'/><title type='text'>Appartenere all' Uno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ShHHVdAz2oI/AAAAAAAAAes/RKlJoXKUKkY/s1600-h/ants.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337266204789955202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ShHHVdAz2oI/AAAAAAAAAes/RKlJoXKUKkY/s200/ants.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Quando vediamo le formiche nella nostra cucina o le api che ronzano attorno al nostro davanzale difficilmente pensiamo al fatto che esse appartengono ad un insieme, che funzionano come parte di un insieme. Non possono sopravvivere come individui, sopravvivono solo come membri di un gruppo e la sopravvivenza del gruppo è l’obiettivo implicito della vita di ogni individuo. Non hanno nessun concetto di vita al di fuori del gruppo e così usare la parola individuo potrebbe essere fuorviante.&lt;br /&gt;L’uomo invece, dà un grande valore all’individualità e spesso associa negativamente alle formiche la mancanza di indipendenza. Eppure se guardassimo più da vicino queste incredibili creature, impareremmo lezioni preziose su quanto si ottiene quando ci si lega agli altri, insieme agli altri, per raggiungere uno scopo più elevato. La maggior parte delle formiche e delle api hanno un ruolo molto specializzato all’interno delle loro comunità , alcune di esse rispondono biologicamente e lavorano all’interno dei confini dei propri ruoli senza lamentarsi, senza mai desiderare di essere qualcosa di diverso da ciò che esse sono. In questo modo rappresentano la conoscenza del Sé e l’umiltà. Dimostrano di essere capaci di saper lavorare altruisticamente e per il bene comune. Per certi aspetti potrebbero essere paragonate alle singole cellule di un unico corpo, che vivono o muoiono a seconda delle necessità di preservare l’integrità di tutto il corpo, non per proteggere se stessi come individui. In questo modo le formiche personificano la capacità di vedere di là del proprio piccolo sé all’interno di un unico insieme, e la capacità di saper servire questo insieme altruisticamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Le formiche e le api ci possono ispirare a comprendere di quanto abbiamo da offrire e da mettere a disposizione a beneficio dell'umanità, come diffondere la consapevolezza ambientale, dar da mangiare agli affamati, far gioire un bambino triste.&lt;br /&gt;Ognuno di noi nasce con certi talenti e acquisisce delle capacità particolari. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Quando utilizziamo questi doni con la consapevolezza di appartenere ad un organismo più grande, quando ci impegniamo a migliorare questo mondo, onoriamo e rispettiamo la saggezza delle formiche e delle api. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-3526801711931598530?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/3526801711931598530/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/appartenere-alluno.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3526801711931598530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3526801711931598530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/appartenere-alluno.html' title='Appartenere all&apos; Uno'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ShHHVdAz2oI/AAAAAAAAAes/RKlJoXKUKkY/s72-c/ants.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1321172950765893917</id><published>2009-05-10T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:06:09.492-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anima'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='incontro'/><title type='text'>Un incontro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SgdTlDYw41I/AAAAAAAAAdk/UBM8Gcgi1rQ/s1600-h/incontri.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334324179673080658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 385px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SgdTlDYw41I/AAAAAAAAAdk/UBM8Gcgi1rQ/s400/incontri.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Talvolta un incontro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;è una frazione di un istante,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;un incrocio di sguardi,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;uno sfioramento di dita,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;una percezione di fragranza.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Talora un passo concesso, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;un ringraziamento,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;una pacca su una spalla.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E lì accade il miracolo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un incontro di anime,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;che si trovano e si ritrovano&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dopo avere vagato decenni&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tra le nebbie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dell’estraneità a se stessi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ed è come &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;se ci si conoscesse da sempre.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un giro di danza,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ed ognuno poi torna nel proprio limbo,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;con un pizzico di dolcezza nel cuore. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1321172950765893917?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1321172950765893917/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/un-incontro.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1321172950765893917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1321172950765893917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/un-incontro.html' title='Un incontro'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SgdTlDYw41I/AAAAAAAAAdk/UBM8Gcgi1rQ/s72-c/incontri.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-15127711376448306</id><published>2009-05-02T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:09:38.461-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='volontariato'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festa della mamma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sogno di bimbi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bambini'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maternità'/><title type='text'>Love Story -  un sogno di bimbi....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L'essenza della maternità non è limitata alle donne che hanno avuto figli; è un principìo intrinseco sia nelle donne che negli uomini. E' un'attitudine mentale. E' amore - e quell'amore è il respiro stesso della vita. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331382478129910802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfzgHfKs1BI/AAAAAAAAAck/6bBq91EkTY8/s400/DSC04628.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nel mese di maggio si celebra la festa della mamma e desidero condividere con voi l'esperienza di una 'mamma speciale'. Si chiama Marinella e la sua maternità è sbocciata cinque anni fa all'età di 65 anni dando vita a un progetto coraggioso e ispirante. Un centro d'accoglienza chiamato "Sogno di Bimbi" ONLUS (&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://sognodibimbi.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://sognodibimbi.org/&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; ) .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L'esempio di questa donna mi ha toccato nel profondo e mi ha insegnato che la realizzazione di un sogno si può fare! Dipende soltanto da noi. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e19f97f6a041cb6b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De19f97f6a041cb6b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331926771%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D847D47B24E6E58ABEEBEC48B5B89D2AD40FB96D1.6E5B7CB946A81590291C1515B8592EB140233FDB%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De19f97f6a041cb6b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Ddr7S6gYVb9JRh793BjyakaThFjU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De19f97f6a041cb6b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331926771%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D847D47B24E6E58ABEEBEC48B5B89D2AD40FB96D1.6E5B7CB946A81590291C1515B8592EB140233FDB%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De19f97f6a041cb6b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Ddr7S6gYVb9JRh793BjyakaThFjU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il centro offre assistenza socio-assistenziale a bambini italiani e non, dai 12 mesi ai 3 anni, le cui famiglie si trovano in difficoltà.&lt;br /&gt;“Sogno di Bimbi” ONLUS si ispira “al rispetto dell’uomo”, poiché è la cura e l’amore per l’uomo che ne ha consentito la realizzazione. In questo progetto il volontario, spesso intraprende percorsi realizzativi, coinvolto dalla carica emozionale e dalla ricchezza della relazione con il mondo dei più umili e dei più deboli confrontandosi con la solidarietà, la condivisione, la partecipazione, il rispetto dei valori e del bene collettivo e dell’individuo e della comprensione reciproca.&lt;br /&gt;“Sogno di Bimbi” ONLUS oltre ad essere un luogo sicuro dove lasciare i bambini unisce a un rapporto di collaborazione tra il privato e sociale.&lt;br /&gt;I bambini presenti nel centro provengono e appartengono a etnie e religioni differenti.&lt;br /&gt;I genitori di questi bambini durante il giorno devono andare a lavorare e non sanno a chi lasciare i propri figli: non hanno persone della famiglia in grado di accudirli durante la loro assenza e, per ragioni economiche, non hanno la possibilità di accedere ad asili nido privati. La maggior parte dei bambini presenti al centro soffre dei disagi dovuti all’emarginazione sociale, propria di coloro che si vedono costretti ad emigrare in un paese straniero: vivere in promiscuità e in alloggi inadeguati, senza accesso ai servizi di base e privi delle cure adeguate.&lt;br /&gt;“Sogno di Bimbi” ONLUS è dunque un centro di accoglienza per bambini italiani e non, di famiglie disagiate, in attesa di essere inseriti presso i servizi istituzionali.&lt;br /&gt;I bambini vengono accuditi secondo un preciso programma educativo-pedagogico svolto da educatrici fisse supportate durante tutto il giorno da volontari appositamente formati.&lt;br /&gt;Marinella si occupa inoltre di interagire con le istituzioni quando i genitori presentano determinate difficoltà;&lt;br /&gt;I bambini accolti nel centro erano inizialmente 15, ma oggi sono 40. Tanti altri sono in lista d’attesa. La signora Marinella è presente quotidianamente nel centro di accoglienza, partecipa alle attività ludico-didattiche oltre a svolgere tutte le attività di coordinamento (personale, volontari, cibo, raccolta fondi etc.) .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se desiderate aiutare Sogno di Bimbi si trova in Via Emo, 8 - Milano (MM Crescenzago).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donaci quattro ore alla settimana del tuo tempo .....e i nostri bimbi sorrideranno ancora!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sukhrita&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-15127711376448306?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e19f97f6a041cb6b&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/15127711376448306/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/sogno-di-bimbi.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/15127711376448306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/15127711376448306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/sogno-di-bimbi.html' title='Love Story -  un sogno di bimbi....'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfzgHfKs1BI/AAAAAAAAAck/6bBq91EkTY8/s72-c/DSC04628.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5740640833531330745</id><published>2009-05-01T15:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:07:31.006-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tramonto'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sole'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maggio'/><title type='text'>Benvenuto Maggio</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sft1yDI0yCI/AAAAAAAAAcM/bmbz50goB9g/s1600-h/tramonto+a+milano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330984086619342882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sft1yDI0yCI/AAAAAAAAAcM/bmbz50goB9g/s400/tramonto+a+milano.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guidando&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;in una Milano&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sotto il cielo terso&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;col cuore &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gonfio di ricordi &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;il sole del tramonto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;negli occhi, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;un'onda d'energia &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ha attraversato il corpo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;spontaneamente &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ho esclamato:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" amo il sole" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e ho capito.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;sukhrita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5740640833531330745?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5740640833531330745/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/benvenuto-maggio_01.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5740640833531330745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5740640833531330745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/05/benvenuto-maggio_01.html' title='Benvenuto Maggio'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sft1yDI0yCI/AAAAAAAAAcM/bmbz50goB9g/s72-c/tramonto+a+milano.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-8536771166444490929</id><published>2009-04-29T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:11:10.394-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vita'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shyam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amma'/><title type='text'>Un giorno di gratitudine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfjMVo3oanI/AAAAAAAAAbs/wWJt9mVifOM/s1600-h/089.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330234831113054834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfjMVo3oanI/AAAAAAAAAbs/wWJt9mVifOM/s400/089.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Iniziamo i nostri giorni con un lungo elenco di cose che dobbiamo fare e con la speranza che tutto fili liscio. Raramente ci svegliamo pensando a tutte le cose che non dobbiamo fare. Per esempio non dobbiamo ricordarci di respirare, preoccuparci che la terra continui a ruotare intorno al sole. Non dobbiamo concentrarci per far sì che i battiti del cuore continuino a cantare o le cellule a rigenerarsi. Tutte queste cose e altre ancora succedono da sole. E’ il miracolo della vita sulla terra.&lt;br /&gt;Ci sono i miracoli creati dall’uomo, l’acqua in casa, l’elettricità, gli aeroplani, i cellulari, internet… eppure ci si pensa solo quando cessano di funzionare.&lt;br /&gt;Poi succede qualcosa e tutto diventa prezioso, magico e vivo. I nostri occhi e i nostri sensi improvvisamente diventano ricettivi a tutto il miracolo della vita. Questa è la forza dell’amore, un ponte da cuore a cuore che ci risveglia alla vita.&lt;br /&gt;Stasera mentre cucinavo stavo pensando con profonda gratitudine e amore ad Amma e a Shyam e dentro di me ringraziavo per la giornata di sole e di nuvole, per tutte le piccole e grandi cose che si danno per scontate, per tutte le meravigliose persone con cui condividere la gioia, per quel caro abbraccio serrato che afferma l’amore….. poi la luce è cambiata, mi sono affacciata e un altro miracolo era davanti ai miei occhi.&lt;br /&gt;Namah Shivaya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sukhrita&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-8536771166444490929?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/8536771166444490929/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/un-giorno-di-gratitudine.html#comment-form' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8536771166444490929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8536771166444490929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/un-giorno-di-gratitudine.html' title='Un giorno di gratitudine'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfjMVo3oanI/AAAAAAAAAbs/wWJt9mVifOM/s72-c/089.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-631948736664073181</id><published>2009-04-26T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:15:47.090-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vita'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pioggia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cielo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfVZm4BhsKI/AAAAAAAAAas/EE34Yl22xUg/s1600-h/sottolapioggiaig.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329264258471538850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 333px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfVZm4BhsKI/AAAAAAAAAas/EE34Yl22xUg/s400/sottolapioggiaig.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cade giù perla dopo perla &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;la pioggia...che è libera,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;che è impossibile da catturare.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sono pezzi d'argento,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;una pioggia di perle libere d'argento! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Daniela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;La pioggia è vita;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;la pioggia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;è la discesa del cielo sulla terra; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;senza la pioggia, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;non ci potrebbe essere &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;vita. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;John Updike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-631948736664073181?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/631948736664073181/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-pioggia-e-vita-la-pioggia-e-la.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/631948736664073181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/631948736664073181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-pioggia-e-vita-la-pioggia-e-la.html' title=''/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfVZm4BhsKI/AAAAAAAAAas/EE34Yl22xUg/s72-c/sottolapioggiaig.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5582446605645091346</id><published>2009-04-23T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:16:19.673-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tagore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tempo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='farfalla'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfDV7lbi5-I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/PfoKDNzKiig/s1600-h/Butterfly.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327993578815940578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 360px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfDV7lbi5-I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/PfoKDNzKiig/s400/Butterfly.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;"La farfalla non conta gli anni, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;ma gli istanti: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;per questo il suo breve tempo le basta"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Rabindranath Tagore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5582446605645091346?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5582446605645091346/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-farfalla-non-conta-gli-anni-ma-gli.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5582446605645091346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5582446605645091346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-farfalla-non-conta-gli-anni-ma-gli.html' title=''/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SfDV7lbi5-I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/PfoKDNzKiig/s72-c/Butterfly.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-8077879582325434590</id><published>2009-04-20T01:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:14:27.526-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensiero'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vita'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ambiente'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='umanità'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ritmo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='azioni'/><title type='text'>La melodia della vita</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sew3kA6c6CI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/foE_gVod2Qc/s1600-h/15_76_43_web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326693551132436514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 271px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sew3kA6c6CI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/foE_gVod2Qc/s400/15_76_43_web.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"C’è un ritmo per ogni cosa: per il vento e per la pioggia, per le onde, per il nostro respiro e per i battiti del cuore.&lt;br /&gt;In modo simile, c’è un ritmo per la vita. I nostri pensieri e le nostre azioni creano il ritmo e la melodia della nostra vita.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando si perde il ritmo dei nostri pensieri ciò si riflette nelle nostre azioni. La conseguenza sarà la perdita del ritmo stesso della vita.&lt;br /&gt;Il ritmo della Natura dipende dall’umanità. E’ necessario mantenere il ritmo della mente e del corpo per il bene della nostra salute, della nostra vita, per il bene dell’umanità e della Natura.” &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-8077879582325434590?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/8077879582325434590/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-melodia-della-vita.html#comment-form' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8077879582325434590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8077879582325434590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-melodia-della-vita.html' title='La melodia della vita'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sew3kA6c6CI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/foE_gVod2Qc/s72-c/15_76_43_web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-3023644160856065034</id><published>2009-04-17T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:17:06.530-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anima'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kahlil Gibran'/><title type='text'>La mia anima</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sekd_RGlsvI/AAAAAAAAAY0/X3KOa6SQ4ow/s1600-h/anima.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325821007102325490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sekd_RGlsvI/AAAAAAAAAY0/X3KOa6SQ4ow/s320/anima.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sette volte ho disprezzato la mia anima.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;La prima volta, fu quando la vidi timorosa di poter toccare le altezze.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;La seconda volta, fu quando la vidi zoppicante dinanzi allo storpio.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;La terza volta, fu quando le fu dato di scegliere tra via ardua e via facile,ed essa scelse quella facile.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;La quarta volta, fu quando commise un torto,e si confortò pensando che anche altri commettono torti.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;La quinta volta, fu quando diventò tollerante per debolezza,e attribuì alla forza quella sua pazienza.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;La sesta volta, fu quando disprezzò la bruttezza di un volto,e non lo riconobbe come una delle sue maschere.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E la settima volta, fu quando levò un canto di lode, e ritenne che fosse questa una virtù.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;kahlil Gibran&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-3023644160856065034?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/3023644160856065034/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-mia-anima.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3023644160856065034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/3023644160856065034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/la-mia-anima.html' title='La mia anima'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sekd_RGlsvI/AAAAAAAAAY0/X3KOa6SQ4ow/s72-c/anima.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-7418482718331658205</id><published>2009-04-17T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:17:52.952-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parole'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silenzio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Walter Gioia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='felicità'/><title type='text'>Che parole?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekTbgW1fmI/AAAAAAAAAYc/VvmbKzQRcO8/s1600-h/words+hug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325809397605432930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekTbgW1fmI/AAAAAAAAAYc/VvmbKzQRcO8/s400/words+hug.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che parole bisogna dire per dare gioia?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che parole bisogna dire per dare felicità?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bisogna dire amicizia?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bisogna dire concordia?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bisogna dire anche libertà? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O bisogna prenderti la mano?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che parole bisogna dire per dare Amore?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che parole bisogna dire per dare tenerezza?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bisogna dire ti amo? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bisogna dire sempre?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bisogna dire anche bambini? O bisogna prenderti la mano?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che parole bisogna dire? Che parole?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E se non dico niente, se taccio?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se ti guardo semplicemente&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E se ti sorrido&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Allora la mia mano prenderà da sola la tua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tu sentirai queste parole&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Nel mio silenzio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-7418482718331658205?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/7418482718331658205/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/che-parole.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7418482718331658205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7418482718331658205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/che-parole.html' title='Che parole?'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekTbgW1fmI/AAAAAAAAAYc/VvmbKzQRcO8/s72-c/words+hug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-6681610919496112233</id><published>2009-04-17T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:17:34.787-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bambù'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='albero'/><title type='text'>Un magnifico bambù</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekPOJWD6DI/AAAAAAAAAYU/YY1DQAnXmSM/s1600-h/bamb%C3%B9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325804770043357234" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekPOJWD6DI/AAAAAAAAAYU/YY1DQAnXmSM/s400/bamb%C3%B9.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 314px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In un magnifico giardino cresceva un bambù dal nobile aspetto. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il Signore del giardino lo amava più di tutti gli altri alberi. Anno dopo anno, il bambù cresceva e si faceva robusto e bello. Perché il bambù sapeva bene che il Signore lo amava e ne era felice. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un giorno, il Signore si avvicinò al suo amato albero e gli disse: "Caro bambù, ho bisogno di te".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il magnifico albero sentì che era venuto il momento per cui era stato creato e disse, con grande gioia: "Signore, sono pronto. Fa' di me l'uso che vuoi". &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La voce del Signore era grave: "Per usarti devo abbatterti!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il bambù si spaventò: "Abbattermi, Signore? Io, il più bello degli alberi del tuo giardino? No, per favore, no! Usami per la tua gioia, Signore, ma per favore, non abbattermi".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Mio caro, bambù", continuò il Signore, "se non posso abbatterti, non posso usarti".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il giardino piombò in un profondo silenzio. Anche il vento smise di soffiare. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lentamente il bambù chinò la sua magnifica chioma e sussurrò: "Signore, se non puoi usarmi senza abbattermi, abbattimi".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Mio caro bambù", disse ancora il Signore, "non solo devo abbatterti, ma anche tagliarti i rami e le foglie".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Mio Signore, abbi pietà. Distruggi la mia bellezza, ma lasciami i rami e le foglie!".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il sole nascose il suo volto, una farfalla inorridita volò via. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tremando, il bambù disse fiocamente: "Signore, tagliali".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Mio caro bambù, devo farti ancora di più. Devo spaccarti in due e strapparti il cuore. Se non posso fare questo, non posso usarti".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il bambù si chinò fino a terra e mormorò: "Signore, spacca e strappa".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Così il Signore del giardino abbatté il bambù, tagliò i rami e le foglie, lo spaccò in due e gli estirpò il cuore. Poi lo portò dove sgorgava una fonte di acqua fresca, vicino ai suoi campi che soffrivano per la siccità. Delicatamente collegò alla sorgente una estremità dell'amato bambù e diresse l'altra verso i campi inariditi. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La chiara, fresca, dolce acqua prese a scorrere nel corpo del bambù e raggiunse i campi. Fu piantato il riso e il raccolto fu ottimo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Così il bambù divenne una grande benedizione, anche se era stato abbattuto e distrutto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando era un albero stupendo, viveva solo per se stesso e si specchiava nella propria bellezza. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #003300; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;Stroncato, ferito e sfigurato era diventato un canale, che il Signore usava per rendere fecondo il suo regno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-6681610919496112233?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/6681610919496112233/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-un-magnifico-giardino-cresceva-un.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6681610919496112233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6681610919496112233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-un-magnifico-giardino-cresceva-un.html' title='Un magnifico bambù'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekPOJWD6DI/AAAAAAAAAYU/YY1DQAnXmSM/s72-c/bamb%C3%B9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5151139437556640341</id><published>2009-04-17T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:27:11.501-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amicizia'/><title type='text'>Come sabbia...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekMfDYh6AI/AAAAAAAAAYM/N0N8LbUPDXw/s1600-h/sand2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325801761965991938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 289px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekMfDYh6AI/AAAAAAAAAYM/N0N8LbUPDXw/s400/sand2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Una madre e suo figlio stanno camminando sulla spiaggia. Ad un certo punto il bambino dice:"Mamma come si fa a mantenere un’amicizia?" La madre guarda il figlio sorridendo e poi gli dice: "Raccogli un po’ di sabbia." Il ragazzo si china e raccoglie una manciata di sabbia finissima. La madre allora, sempre sorridendo: "Ora stringi il pugno…" Il ragazzo stringe la mano attorno alla sabbia e vede che, più stringe, più la sabbia gli esce dalla mano. "Mamma, la sabbia se ne scappa…" "Lo so, caro…Ora tieni la mano completamente aperta…" Il ragazzo ubbidisce, ma una folata di vento porta via parte della rimanente. "Anche così non riesco a tenerla…" E la madre, sempre sorridendo: "Adesso raccogline un altro po’, e tienila con la mano aperta a cucchiaio…così.. abbastanza chiusa per custodire, e abbastanza aperta per la libertà". &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il ragazzo riprova, e questa volta la sabbia non sfugge dalla mano...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5151139437556640341?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5151139437556640341/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/come-sabbia.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5151139437556640341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5151139437556640341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/come-sabbia.html' title='Come sabbia...'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekMfDYh6AI/AAAAAAAAAYM/N0N8LbUPDXw/s72-c/sand2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4892869041644309375</id><published>2009-04-15T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T23:54:45.724-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amicizia'/><title type='text'>i veri amici</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SeYkXL54UWI/AAAAAAAAAX0/3Xr9ztLizvs/s1600-h/snoopyamici.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324983590163337570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SeYkXL54UWI/AAAAAAAAAX0/3Xr9ztLizvs/s400/snoopyamici.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SeYjpi1LOFI/AAAAAAAAAXs/Q-WNYDh-Rzo/s1600-h/snoopyamici.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;L'Amicizia ci apre il cuore... e ci costruisce al suo interno un mondo nuovo, che fino a poco prima del suo arrivo quel mondo neppure esisteva, attraverso l'amicizia, nasce un nuovo e magico universo, un'universo che ci rende felici, un'universo che se mantenuto bene, nessuno mai riuscirà a batterlo per far si che crolli! - &lt;em&gt;Anonimo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Vento d'amicizia sfiora il mio tempo... lo profuma improvviso di petali di primavera... lo accarezza con brezze lievi di sorrisi... lo culla tra onde che cantano in risacche ondulanti... Ora mi vesto di sguardi nascosti... oltre mura che avvertono la levità dell'essere... oltre esistenze che tutto e niente sanno ma esistono tendendo parole. - &lt;em&gt;Anonimo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;I veri amici sono quelli che si scambiano reciprocamente fiducia, sogni e pensieri, virtù, gioie e dolori; sempre liberi di separarsi, senza separarsi mai. ~ &lt;em&gt;A. Bougeard&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;L'amicizia è un sentimento unico che rende la vita degna di essere vissuta; l'amicizia insegna a vivere la vita con serenità e gioia; l'amicizia aiuta a scalare la montagna della paura, della tristezza, delle difficoltà, della solitudine...senza l'amicizia una persona si perde nei meandri della vita. ~ &lt;em&gt;Clara&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Crescere insieme senza perdere la propria identità, donarsi per possedere in forma allargata, fondersi in un tutto unico e tuttavia continuare ad esistere ciascuno per proprio conto: questo è il segreto del vincolo dell'amicizia.~ &lt;em&gt;Siegfried Kracauer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I veri amici amano condividere i momenti preziosi che la vita riserva loro, come le piccole cose dell'esistenza per cui vale la pena di vivere ogni giorno. ~ &lt;em&gt;Sergio Bambaren&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Trova il tempo di essere amico: è la strada della felicità. ~ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Madre Teresa di Calcutta&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4892869041644309375?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4892869041644309375/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-veri-amici.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4892869041644309375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4892869041644309375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-veri-amici.html' title='i veri amici'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SeYkXL54UWI/AAAAAAAAAX0/3Xr9ztLizvs/s72-c/snoopyamici.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-2737576817506688969</id><published>2009-04-09T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:30:31.119-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel Garcìa Màrquez'/><title type='text'>Valuterei le cose, non per il loro valore, ma per ciò che significano</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sd69DWD7cYI/AAAAAAAAAVg/FH8SSH5twp0/s1600-h/MARQUE663.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322899674757820802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 58px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sd69DWD7cYI/AAAAAAAAAVg/FH8SSH5twp0/s200/MARQUE663.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Gabriel Garcìa Màrquez&lt;/span&gt; premio Nobel per la letteratura (1982) scrittore e giornalista, uno dei più brillanti scrittori latinoamericani, si è ritirato dalla vita pubblica per ragioni di salute. Ora che sembra essere sempre più grave ha lasciato una lettera di congedo di cui vi raccomando la lettura. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Dormirei poco, sognerei di più, essendo cosciente che per ogni minuto che teniamo gli occhi chiusi, perdiamo sessanta secondi di luce. Andrei avanti quando gli altri si ritirano, mi sveglierei quando gli altri dormono.&lt;br /&gt;Ascolterei quando gli altri parlano e con quanto piacere gusterei un buon gelato al cioccolato.&lt;br /&gt;Se Dio mi desse un pezzo di vita, mi vestirei in modo semplice, e prima di tutto butterei me stesso in fronte al sole, mettendo a nudo non solo il mio corpo, ma anche la mia anima.&lt;br /&gt;Dio mio se avessi un cuore, scriverei il mio odio sul ghiaccio e aspetterei l’arrivo del sole. Sulle stelle dipingerei una poesia di Benedetti con un sogno di Van Gogh e una canzone di Serrat sarebbe la serenata che offrirei alla luna.&lt;br /&gt;Annaffierei le rose con le mie lacrime per sentire il dolore delle loro spine e il rosso bacio dei loro petali.&lt;br /&gt;Dio mio se avessi un pezzo di vita, non lascerei passare un solo giorno senza dire alle persone che amo, che le amo. Direi ad ogni uomo e ad ogni donna che sono i miei prediletti e vivrei innamorato dell’amore.&lt;br /&gt;Mostrerei agli uomini quanto sbagliano quando pensano di smettere di innamorarsi man mano che invecchiano, non sapendo che invecchiano quando smettono di innamorarsi!&lt;br /&gt;A un bambino darei le ali, ma lascerei che imparasse a volare da solo.&lt;br /&gt;Ai vecchi insegnerei che la morte non arriva con la vecchiaia, ma con la dimenticanza.&lt;br /&gt;Ho imparato così tanto da voi, Uomini... Ho imparato che ognuno vuole vivere sulla cima della montagna, senza sapere che la vera felicità sta nel come questa montagna è stata scalata.&lt;br /&gt;Ho imparato che quando un neonato stringe per la prima volta il dito del padre nel suo piccolo pugno, l’ha catturato per sempre.&lt;br /&gt;Ho imparato che un uomo ha il diritto di guardare dall’alto in basso un altro uomo solo per aiutarlo a rimettersi in piedi.&lt;br /&gt;Da voi ho imparato così tante cose, ma in verità non saranno granchè utili, perchè quando mi metteranno in questa valigia, starò purtroppo per morire.&lt;br /&gt;Dì sempre ciò che senti e fa’ ciò che pensi.&lt;br /&gt;Se sapessi che oggi è l’ultima volta che ti guardo mentre ti addormenti, ti abbraccerei fortemente e pregherei il Signore per poter essere il guardiano della tua anima.&lt;br /&gt;Se sapessi che oggi è l’ultima volta che ti vedo uscire dalla porta, ti abbraccerei, ti darei un bacio e ti chiamerei di nuovo per dartene altri.&lt;br /&gt;Se sapessi che oggi è l’ultima volta che sento la tua voce, registrerei ogni tua parola per poterle ascoltare una e più volte ancora.&lt;br /&gt;Se sapessi che questi sono gli ultimi minuti che ti vedo, direi “ti amo” e non darei scioccamente per scontato che già lo sai.&lt;br /&gt;Sempre c’è un domani e la vita ci dà un’altra possibilità per fare le cose bene, ma se mi sbagliassi e oggi fosse tutto ciò che ci rimane, mi piacerebbe dirti quanto ti amo, che mai ti dimenticherò.&lt;br /&gt;Il domani non è assicurato per nessuno, giovane o vecchio. Oggi può essere l’ultima volta che vedi chi ami. Perciò non aspettare oltre, fallo oggi, perchè se il domani non arrivasse, sicuramente compiangeresti il giorno che non hai avuto tempo per un sorriso, un abbraccio, un bacio e che eri troppo occupato per regalare un ultimo desiderio.&lt;br /&gt;Tieni chi ami vicino a te, digli quanto bisogno hai di loro, amali e trattali bene, trova il tempo per dirgli “mi spiace”, “perdonami”, “per favore”, “grazie” e tutte le parole d’amore che conosci.Nessuno ti ricorderà per i tuoi pensieri segreti. Chiedi al Signore la forza e la saggezza per esprimerli. Dimostra ai tuoi amici e ai tuoi cari quanto sono importanti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"&gt;Gabriel Garcìa Màrquez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-2737576817506688969?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/2737576817506688969/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/gabriel-garcia-marquez-premio-nobel-per.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/2737576817506688969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/2737576817506688969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/04/gabriel-garcia-marquez-premio-nobel-per.html' title='Valuterei le cose, non per il loro valore, ma per ciò che significano'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/Sd69DWD7cYI/AAAAAAAAAVg/FH8SSH5twp0/s72-c/MARQUE663.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4307509739180668210</id><published>2009-03-25T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T11:33:24.110-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Walter Gioia'/><title type='text'>Qualunque fiore tu sia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Qualunque fiore tu sia,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;quando verrà il tuo tempo, sboccerai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Prima di allora,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;una lunga e fredda notte potrà passare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anche dai sogni della notte trarrai forza e nutrimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perciò, sii paziente verso quanto ti accade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e curati e amati,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;senza paragonarti o voler essere un altro fiore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poiché non esiste fiore migliore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;di quello che s’apre alla pienezza di ciò che è.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E quando ti avverrà,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;potrai scoprire che andavi sognando&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;di essere un fiore che aveva da fiorire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317280400572133458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ScrGWic_sFI/AAAAAAAAAVA/IG3KEWThIrc/s320/Fiori_bianchi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Walter Gioia, “Alle sorgenti dell’essere”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4307509739180668210?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4307509739180668210/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/qualunque-fiore-tu-sia.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4307509739180668210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4307509739180668210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/qualunque-fiore-tu-sia.html' title='Qualunque fiore tu sia'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ScrGWic_sFI/AAAAAAAAAVA/IG3KEWThIrc/s72-c/Fiori_bianchi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-4661535284249133324</id><published>2009-03-25T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T17:18:22.582-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kahlil Gibran'/><title type='text'>Segui l'amore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekcQ_wGRzI/AAAAAAAAAYs/Bn5SrzJV714/s1600-h/piume.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325819112658978610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekcQ_wGRzI/AAAAAAAAAYs/Bn5SrzJV714/s400/piume.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;«Quando l’amore vi chiama,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;seguitelo, anche se le sue vie sono dure e scoscese.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E quando le sue ali vi abbracciano,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;arrendetevi a lui.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando vi parla, credete in lui,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;anche se la sua voce puo’ cancellare i vostri sogni,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;come il vento scompiglia il giardino.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come covoni di grano, vi raccoglie in se’.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vi batte fino a farvi spogli. Vi setaccia per liberarvi dalla pula.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vi macina per farvi farina bianca. Vi impasta finche’ non siete docili alle mani;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e vi consegna al fuoco sacro, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;affinchè’ siate pane consacrato alla mensa del Signore.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L’amore non da’ altro che se stesso e non prende niente se non da se’.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L’amore non possiede ne’ vuol essere posseduto, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;perche’ l’amore basta all’amore». &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;(Kahlil Gibran)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-4661535284249133324?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/4661535284249133324/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/segui-lamore.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4661535284249133324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/4661535284249133324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/segui-lamore.html' title='Segui l&apos;amore'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SekcQ_wGRzI/AAAAAAAAAYs/Bn5SrzJV714/s72-c/piume.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-6933068091386429386</id><published>2009-03-23T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:16:52.687-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><title type='text'>Le quattro mogli</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;C’era un ricco commerciante che aveva quattro mogli&lt;br /&gt;La moglie che amava di più era la quarta. La vestiva con vestiti lussuosi e le concedeva ogni delicatezza. Si occupava di lei con la massima cura e non le negava le cose migliori.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Amava molto anche la terza moglie. Era molto orgoglioso di lei e cercava sempre di mostrarla ai suoi amici. Eppure il mercante aveva molta paura che potesse fuggire con qualche altro uomo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Amava molto anche la sua seconda moglie. Si trattava di una persona molto paziente ed egli la considerava la sua confidente. Ogni qualvolta che si trovava a dover affrontare qualche problema si rivolgeva alla sua seconda moglie ed essa lo aiutava a superare il momento difficile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;La prima moglie infine era una compagna molto fedele e tuttavia il commerciante non l’amava e ben difficilmente seguiva il suo consiglio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Un giorno il commerciante si ammalò e si rese conto che non avrebbe avuto più molto da vivere. Pensando alla sua vita lussuosa diceva a se stesso: “E’ vero che ho quattro mogli, ma quando muoio sarò solo. Ah quanto sarò solo! Disse alla quarta moglie: “ Ti ho amato più di ogni altra donna, ti ho rivestito degli abiti più raffinati e non ho trascurato per te nessuna cura. Ora sto morendo, vuoi seguirmi e continuare a farmi compagnia?” “Certo che no!” esclamò la quarta moglie e si allontanò senza dire altro. La risposta trafisse il cuore del mercante come un coltello affilato.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Triste, il mercante disse allora alla terza moglie: “Ti ho amato tanto per il tutto il corso della mia vita. Ora sto morendo, vuoi seguirmi e tenermi compagnia?” “No, rispose la terza moglie, la vita è davvero buona qui, e mi risposerò quando tu morirai!” Il cuore del mercante divenne freddo come ghiaccio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Disse allora alla seconda moglie: “ Mi sono sempre rivolto a te e tu mi hai sempre aiutato. Adesso ti chiedo di aiutarmi ancora. Sto morendo, vuoi seguirmi e tenermi compagnia?”. “Mi dispiace, questa volta non posso aiutarti, disse la seconda moglie, al massimo posso farti seppellire”. Questa risposta colpì il mercante come un fulmine e ne fu devastato. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Sentì un grido: “Io verrò con te, ti seguirò ovunque tu andrai”. Il mercante guardò su e vide la sua prima moglie. Era così magra da sembrare denutrita. Molto dispiaciuto il mercante disse: “Avrei dovuto occuparmi meglio di te”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Ebbene ognuno di noi prende quattro mogli nella sua vita. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;La quarta moglie è il tuo corpo. Non importa lo sforzo con il quale lo curi, lo dovrai lasciare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;La tua terza moglie è ciò che possiedi, la tua condizione, la tua ricchezza. Quando muori tutto va agli altri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;La seconda moglie sono la tua famiglia e i tuoi amici. Per quanto ci stiano vicini nella vita non possono stare con te nella morte..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;La prima moglie è invece la tua anima. Tanto trascurata e negletta nella ricerca dei beni materiali e dei piaceri sensuali. E’ davvero l’unica cosa che ti segue ovunque tu vada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-6933068091386429386?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/6933068091386429386/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/le-quattro-mogli.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6933068091386429386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/6933068091386429386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/le-quattro-mogli.html' title='Le quattro mogli'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5223856785291937382</id><published>2009-03-20T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:21:06.626-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='madre teresa'/><title type='text'>Inno alla Vita</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è bellezza, ammirala. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è un’opportunità, coglila.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è beatitudine, assaporala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è un sogno, fanne una realtà.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è una sfida, affrontala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è un dovere, compilo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è un gioco, giocalo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è preziosa, abbine cura.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è una ricchezza, conservala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è amore, donala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è un mistero, scoprilo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è promessa, adempila.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è tristezza, superala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è un inno, cantalo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è una lotta, accettala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è un’avventura, rischiala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è felicità, meritala.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La vita è la vita, difendila.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Madre Teresa di Calcutta &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324991798020639426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SeYr08jjisI/AAAAAAAAAX8/HgrZaSQpGzo/s320/inspirationrocks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5223856785291937382?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5223856785291937382/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/inno-alla-vita.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5223856785291937382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5223856785291937382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/inno-alla-vita.html' title='Inno alla Vita'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SeYr08jjisI/AAAAAAAAAX8/HgrZaSQpGzo/s72-c/inspirationrocks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1084107459707704532</id><published>2009-03-19T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T12:30:42.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neruda'/><title type='text'>Arcobaleno</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ScLTyRc0LqI/AAAAAAAAAUw/UiF5B3Itm04/s1600-h/arcobaleno-norvegia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315043370881789602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ScLTyRc0LqI/AAAAAAAAAUw/UiF5B3Itm04/s320/arcobaleno-norvegia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dove finisce l’arcobaleno,&lt;br /&gt;nella tua anima o nell’orizzonte?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neruda&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1084107459707704532?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1084107459707704532/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/arcobaleno.html#comment-form' title='3 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1084107459707704532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1084107459707704532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/arcobaleno.html' title='Arcobaleno'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ScLTyRc0LqI/AAAAAAAAAUw/UiF5B3Itm04/s72-c/arcobaleno-norvegia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-8046156541887501170</id><published>2009-03-19T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T12:31:39.599-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kahlil Gibran'/><title type='text'>Ti amerò</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Farò della mia anima uno scrigno per la tua anima,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;del mio cuore una dimora per la tua bellezza,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;del mio petto un sepolcro per le tue pene. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ti amerò come le praterie amano la primavera,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e vivrò in te la vita di un fiore sotto i raggi del sole.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Canterò il tuo nome come la valle canta l'eco delle campane;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ascolterò il linguaggio della tua anima &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;come la spiaggia ascolta la storia delle onde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Kahlil Gibran&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-8046156541887501170?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/8046156541887501170/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/faro-della-mia-anima-uno-scrigno.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8046156541887501170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8046156541887501170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/faro-della-mia-anima-uno-scrigno.html' title='Ti amerò'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1518720587327914715</id><published>2009-03-19T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T23:13:09.633-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rabindranath Tagore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amma'/><title type='text'>Senza Parlare...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ScrIyecoCDI/AAAAAAAAAVI/lGwNj_IU45g/s1600-h/pic24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317283079556433970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ScrIyecoCDI/AAAAAAAAAVI/lGwNj_IU45g/s200/pic24.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Senza parlare sei arrivata come una vera regina, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;di nascosto hai posato i piedi dentro l'anima.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rabindranath Tagore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;“Mi fermerò senza dubbio, stupìto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se mai ci ritroveremo in una vita futura,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;nel cammino e alla luce d’un altro mondo lontano.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Capirò che i tuoi occhi, simili alle stelle dell’alba,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sono appartenuti a questo cielo notturno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e dimenticato d’una vita passata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Si, comprenderò che la magia del tuo viso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;è pronta ancora al balenare appassionato del mio sguardo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;in un incontro immemorabile e che al mio amore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tu devi un mistero di cui non conosci più l’origine”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Rabindranath Tagore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1518720587327914715?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1518720587327914715/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/capiro.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1518720587327914715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1518720587327914715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/capiro.html' title='Senza Parlare...'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/ScrIyecoCDI/AAAAAAAAAVI/lGwNj_IU45g/s72-c/pic24.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-1924796639846672201</id><published>2009-03-19T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T14:10:10.744-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='madre teresa'/><title type='text'>Il giorno più bello? Oggi!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il giorno più bello? Oggi &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L’ostacolo più grande? La paura &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La cosa più facile? Sbagliarsi &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L’errore più grande? Rinunciare &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La radice di tutti i mali? L’egoismo &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La sconfitta peggiore? Lo scoraggiamento &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il mistero più grande? La morte &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L’accoglienza migliore? Il sorriso &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La cosa più bella del mondo? L’amore &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La felicità più grande? Essere utile agli altri &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(Madre Teresa di Calcutta) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-1924796639846672201?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/1924796639846672201/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/il-giorno-piu-bello-oggi-lostacolo-piu.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1924796639846672201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/1924796639846672201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/il-giorno-piu-bello-oggi-lostacolo-piu.html' title='Il giorno più bello? Oggi!'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5455851097314614497</id><published>2009-03-15T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:16:26.116-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><title type='text'>Carota, uovo o chicco di caffè?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Una figlia si lamentava con suo padre circa la sua vita e di come le cose le risultavano tanto difficili. Non sapeva come fare per proseguire e credeva di darsi per vinta. Era stanca di lottare. Sembrava che quando risolveva un problema, ne apparisse un altro.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suo padre, uno chef di cucina, la portò al suo posto di lavoro. Lì riempì tre pentole con acqua e le pose sul fuoco. Quando l’acqua delle tre pentole stava bollendo, in una collocò alcune carote, in un’altra collocò delle uova e nell’ultima collocò dei grani di caffè. Lasciò bollire l’acqua senza dire parola. La figlia aspettò impazientemente, domandandosi cosa stesse facendo il padre…&lt;br /&gt;Dopo venti minuti il padre spense il fuoco. Tirò fuori le carote e le collocò in un piatto. Tirò fuori le uova e le collocò in un altro piatto. Finalmente, colò il caffè e lo mise in una scodella. Guardando sua figlia le disse: “Cara figlia mia, carote, uova o caffè?” &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La fece avvicinare e le chiese di toccare le carote, ella lo fece e notò che erano soffici; dopo le chiese di prendere un uovo e di romperlo, mentre lo tirava fuori dal guscio, osservò l’uovo sodo. Dopo le chiese di provare a bere il caffè, ella sorrise mentre godeva del suo ricco aroma. Umilmente la figlia domandò: “Cosa significa questo, padre?”&lt;br /&gt;Egli le spiegò che i tre elementi avevano affrontato la stessa avversità, “l’acqua bollente”, ma avevano reagito in maniera differente.&lt;br /&gt;La carota era arrivata all’acqua forte, dura, superba; ma dopo essere stata nell’acqua, bollendo era diventata debole, facile da disfare.&lt;br /&gt;L’uovo era arrivato all’acqua fragile, il suo guscio fine proteggeva il suo interno molle, ma dopo essere stato in acqua, bollendo, il suo interno si era indurito.&lt;br /&gt;Invece, i grani di caffè, erano unici: dopo essere stati in acqua, bollendo, avevano cambiato l’acqua.&lt;br /&gt;“Quale sei tu figlia?” le disse.&lt;br /&gt;“Quando l’avversità suona alla tua porta; come rispondi? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sei una carota che sembra forte ma quando i problemi ed il dolore ti toccano, diventi debole e perdi la tua forza?&lt;br /&gt;Sei un uovo che comincia con un cuore malleabile e buono di spirito, ma che dopo una morte, una separazione, un licenziamento, un ostacolo durante il tragitto, diventa duro e rigido? Esternamente ti vedi uguale, ma dentro sei amareggiata ed aspra, con uno spirito ed un cuore indurito?&lt;br /&gt;O sei come un chicco di caffè?&lt;br /&gt;Il caffè cambia l’acqua, l’elemento che gli causa dolore. Quando l’acqua arriva al punto di ebollizione il caffè raggiunge il suo migliore sapore. Se sei come il chicco di caffè, quando le cose si mettono peggio, tu reagisci in forma positiva, senza lasciarti vincere, e fai si che le cose che ti succedono migliorino, che esista sempre una luce che, davanti all’avversità, illumini la tua strada e quella della gente che ti circonda”.Per questo motivo non mancare mai di diffondere con la tua forza e la tua positività come il “dolce aroma del caffè”. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5455851097314614497?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/5455851097314614497/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/carota-uovo-o-chicco-di-caffe.html#comment-form' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5455851097314614497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5455851097314614497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/carota-uovo-o-chicco-di-caffe.html' title='Carota, uovo o chicco di caffè?'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-7776170679739741589</id><published>2009-03-14T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:15:59.661-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racconti'/><title type='text'>Il vecchio e lo scorpione</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Una mattina, dopo aver finito la sua meditazione, il vecchio aprì gli occhi e vide uno scorpione che galleggiava impotente nell’acqua. Quando lo scorpione fu trascinato dalla corrente più vicino all’albero, il vecchio velocemente si allungò su una delle lunghe radici che si diramavano nel fiume per salvare la creatura che stava annegando. Non appena lo toccò, lo scorpione lo punse. Istintivamente l’uomo ritirò la mano. Un minuto più tardi, dopo aver ritrovato il suo equilibrio si allungò nuovamente dalle radici per salvare lo scorpione. Questa volta lo scorpione lo punse così forte con la sua coda velenosa che la mano si gonfiò e sanguinò e il volto si contorse in una smorfia di dolore.&lt;br /&gt;In quel momento un passante vide il vecchio allungato sulle radici che lottava per salvare lo scorpione e gli gridò: “ Hei, stupido vecchio, ti sei bevuto il cervello? Solo un folle rischierebbe la vita per salvare una creatura brutta e cattiva. Non lo sai che potresti anche morire per provare a salvare quell’ingrato scorpione?”&lt;br /&gt;Il vecchio girò la testa. Guardando negli occhi dello sconosciuto, disse con calma: “Amico mio, solo perché è nella natura dello scorpione pungere, non cambia la mia natura di salvare.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-7776170679739741589?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/7776170679739741589/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/il-vecchio-e-lo-scorpione.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7776170679739741589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/7776170679739741589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/il-vecchio-e-lo-scorpione.html' title='Il vecchio e lo scorpione'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-8491500261592389385</id><published>2009-03-14T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:24:53.823-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bellezza unicef'/><title type='text'>La vera bellezza delle donne</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Per avere labbra attraenti, pronuncia parole gentili&lt;br /&gt;Per avere uno sguardo amorevole, cerca il lato buono delle persone&lt;br /&gt;Per avere un aspetto magro, condividi il tuo cibo con l’affamato&lt;br /&gt;Per avere capelli bellissimi, lascia che un bimbo li attraversi con le proprie dita una volta al giorno.&lt;br /&gt;Ricorda, se mai avrai bisogno di una mano, le troverai alla fine di entrambe le tue braccia. Quando diventerai anziana, scoprirai di avere due mani, una per aiutare te stessa, la seconda per aiutare gli altri.&lt;br /&gt;La bellezza di una donna aumenta con il passare degli anni.&lt;br /&gt;La bellezza di una donna non risiede nell’estetica, ma la vera bellezza in una donna è riflessa nella propria anima. E’ la preoccupazione di donare con amore, la passione che essa mostra.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Audrey Hepburn&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;attrice, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ambasciatore Unicef&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-8491500261592389385?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/8491500261592389385/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/la-vera-bellezza-delle-donne-per-avere.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8491500261592389385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8491500261592389385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/la-vera-bellezza-delle-donne-per-avere.html' title='La vera bellezza delle donne'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-8207061727878946612</id><published>2009-03-13T04:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T23:12:17.211-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='madre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amma'/><title type='text'>Madre...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SbrXJ11ZAXI/AAAAAAAAATw/dMsSn-t_PAA/s1600-h/flow01.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312795274506731890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 56px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SbrXJ11ZAXI/AAAAAAAAATw/dMsSn-t_PAA/s200/flow01.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Possa ogni mia azione&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;essere un'adorazione a Te&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;compiuta con completo abbandono,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;possa ogni suono delle mie labbra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;essere un canto del Tuo grande mantra,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;possa ogni gesto delle mie mani&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;essere un mudra in Tua venerazione,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;possa ogni mio passo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;essere una circumambulazione intorno a Te,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;possa tutto ciò che mangio e bevo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;essere un'offerta al Tuo fuoco sacro,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;possa il mio riposo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;essere una prostrazione a Te.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Madre, possa ogni mia azione,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ed ogni mia gioia,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;essere in Tua lode.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312791646142000386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SbrT2pH07QI/AAAAAAAAATI/X17aKObeDP8/s400/omnamahamma.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-8207061727878946612?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/feeds/8207061727878946612/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/madre.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8207061727878946612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/8207061727878946612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/madre.html' title='Madre...'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SbrXJ11ZAXI/AAAAAAAAATw/dMsSn-t_PAA/s72-c/flow01.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8249976914955391481.post-5300377644036833496</id><published>2009-03-11T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T23:11:56.364-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='radha'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='krishna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi (Amma)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amma'/><title type='text'>Ad AMMA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Offro umilmente questo blog ai piedi di loto&lt;br /&gt;del mio amato Satguru,&lt;br /&gt;Sri Mata Amritanandamayi Devi &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Questo nuovo BLOG nasce il giorno del festifal di HOLI. In India il Festival di HOLI è la festa dei colori e della gioia. Si celebra per dare il benvenuto alla primavera quando anche la Natura sboccia in una profusìone di colori e per conquistare il favore degli Dei nell'auspicìo della fertilità e di un ricco raccolto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Come per tutti i festival indù ci sono molte interessanti leggende che si riferiscono ad Holi che viene anche associato all'Amore eterno fra Krishna e Radha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312292864453236466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 252px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 101px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SbkONuiT1vI/AAAAAAAAASg/KJTK3Akvicg/s320/krishna.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Possa la vita di ognuno essere sempre un gioioso e colorato festival! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Namah Shivaya&lt;br /&gt;sukhrita &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312294519039441778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SbkPuCWZu3I/AAAAAAAAASo/AhKjwVVN6oQ/s320/happy+holi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8249976914955391481-5300377644036833496?l=morningcappuccino.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5300377644036833496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8249976914955391481/posts/default/5300377644036833496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morningcappuccino.blogspot.com/2009/03/ad-amma.html' title='Ad AMMA'/><author><name>Sukhrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16958555433357901828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAn6KTZxHY/ToBjjQtaiGI/AAAAAAAABcc/lNwEBveRhNU/s220/P2070156.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6bl2w7UbQK4/SbkONuiT1vI/AAAAAAAAASg/KJTK3Akvicg/s72-c/krishna.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
