Human beings are born with the word “fight” tattooed on our foreheads. At first we do not know what those coal scribbles mean. We coexist with them the same way we coexist with our eyelashes or toes. Later on we solve the hieroglyph and cling to its result. We defend the struggle, the resistance to what life brings, whether we see it as good or bad , unpleasant or convenient. We see the stones and the rocks and we secretly long to be like them, strong, indestructible. But we do not see their truth: they were not born of struggle, but of surrender, of a generous abandonment to life. We are like stones only when we sleep, when we unknowingly allow ourselves be covered by life’s silence before sunrise.Before sunrise we are like stones, unknowingly allowing ourselves be covered by the silence of life.