Sadness

Two days ago I woke up feeling sad. I had had a very busy menstrual week that led to an exhausting weekend, and Monday when I didn’t take care of my spiritual needs but rather cleaned the after-party house. I got up, snuggled with Svarun, and went to the bathroom, where I found Her in the mirror.

»What are you doing here?« I asked Her. She didn’t say anything but I knew that she’s here for a reason. Sadness never came without one.

I tried to waltz her out: »Listen, I think you got it wrong. I’m having a great time, you see. And for the first time in history, I can feel that my life is going in the right direction. I can smell it and sense it and nearly touch it. And I can feel it’s good. It’s real good. So you can just leave because I’m doing alright. Besides,  I don’t have time to lay around and cry all day. I mean, why should I if I know everything is fine and I’m just a little tired, that’s all?«

»It’s not me who got it wrong. You did,« said She.

This made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to hang out with Sadness, I had huge plans for myself that day. So I started again, a little less patient, a little less calm: »Please leave, I’m busy.«

Svarun crawled into the bathroom to pee. We were late, really late, so I told him to hurry up and dress himself: »Nona will be here any minute now and it’s not fair to leave her waiting.«

My mum picks Svarun up every morning and takes him to his daycare because she works a few hundred meters away.

»I won’t be bothering you. I’ll just sit down and wait until you’re not busy anymore, ok?« she said, swinging herself on my red sofa and making herself very comfortable.

My mom came, and because we weren’t ready, I told her – barely sucking it up – that I will take Svarun to kindergarten.

»Look, I’m not going to be not busy anytime soon, so maybe we can agree to meet some other time. I have to take Svarun to kindergarten now and then I have a bunch of things to do because I’m going to be late anyway, this ride is going to take me at least an hour and …«

»I’ll go with you,« she reasoned and sneaked into the car.

I cried. And cried. And cried. And as I escorted Svarun to his daycare, I cried some more.

I cried for the past few years, when I related more with DOING than with BEING. I cried for that. I cried for all of us who got caught up in this patriarchal wound. When did doing become more important than being? When did our achievements become more important than how loving we are towards each other?

The more I cried, the better I felt. Me and Sadness were both very quiet, and yet we knew exactly what the other meant.

She was saying: »You’ve been ignoring me.«

I was saying, »I don’t want to be Sad.«

She was saying: »You’re making me feel like I’m bad or something.«

I was saying: »Well, you make me feel bad.«

She was saying: »That’s yours to deal with, not mine.«

I was saying »What do you mean? I’m not supposed to feel sad if I’m conscious of my path.«

She said: »Whoever told you that, hasn’t got it all figured out.«

I stopped my thoughts. I stopped crying. She was right. Whoever told us Sadness was bad? Whoever told us to stop being sad, because we should have thought before about it, when our favourite toy broke? Whoever told us that we’re not supposed to think about sad things because then sad things will happen?

Well, only Everybody.

And now it’s enough.

Feel your Sadness, she’s here to guide you somewhere.

Accept your Sadness, because she’s a part of your equation.

Rethink your relationship to your Sadness, because she’s not the bad that you need to steer clear of. She part of the story, your story. And it’s a real story, where positive and the negative live together in harmony. She is not here to lure you down into depression; she’s here to remind you of all the reasons that you have to feel good. She’s here with you all the time, to help you be the best you you can be at this point in time. She is you and you are her.  

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I am Awake

I’m awake on the eve of 19th of October, just as I was awake exactly four years ago. Back then, I had just been awakened by labor contractions, fortelling my son was about to come earthside. I went to bed really late because I went on a late night walk to watch the starts, selected the music that would sway our forcoming birth, took a long hot bath and a cup of cocoa afterwards. I went to bed peaceful. After about half an hour of so-called sleep, I woke up in the midst of what I would only later realize was a full blown contraction. In a haze I recalled waking up with contractions many times that night, so I decided it was no use to pursue lying in bed. I sat on the ball and started circling with my hips, being as present as I could, every time I would sense the familiar rushes at the bottom of my henna-tattoo-ed belly.

I could swear I felt the exact same contraction in my womb just as I thought about those rushes four years ago. Sure, it’s the first day of my period, but now again I have found myself to be birthing something into this world yet again; I’m baking a cake for my son’s kindergarten birthday celebration. It’s the second one I’m making because the first one turned out watery enough to be called – a pudding.

Now, I really don’t like late nights. They get me every time, honestly. It was late when I started, but when I realized the pudding thingy was not going to cut it, I almost felt the need to cry. Wait, I wholly truly did. And the need to feel sorry for myself kept creeping in: »Oh, man. It’s the first day of my period, the time when I should be resting, and I’m not even going to get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow I’m going to be out and about the whole day and why do I always do this to myself on my period, it’s always the same …«

But then I realized what I was doing. I stood up. I thought about my son. I thought about how much I wanted him to have a surprise cake for his birthday. So I looked up, and prayed. I prayed to the goddess to give me the strenght to pull this off. And I sat down in my car, started it and drove to my parent’s house a few miles away to pick up the eggs that I need to make the cake (try one was a vegan experiment that failed).

I came back, bursting with energy and commitment. And I noticed it. And I thanked it. And I meant it. And I trusted her when she said I had made the right decision. And I trust her when she says that this is only the start of the best day ever.

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Discipline

I have long decided to invite more discipline into my life. Correction: I have long decided to invite more discipline into my working life. Being a mother, that means those five to six hours in the morning and early afternoon while Svarun is in kindergarten. Being a mompreneur (a mother who is an entrepreneur), that has meant: all day every day.

It’s utopian to think that I’m going to be able to do all that I want/ should/ must/ desire in a mere few hours, especially because … well, I’m a woman. I don’t do things linear; I do a little bit of this here, and a little bit of that there, and then return to this, and then continue that bit over there. Just as I’m typing this, the granola is in the oven and washed clothes can’t wait to hang out in the balcony in this hot, orange, autumn sun. But being a woman, I also posses a lot of creativity that just wants to see the light of the day. However, being a woman alone does not make me highly chaotic; what makes me such is thinking that discipline would bore me to tears.

I’m willing to shift this now.

I’m willing to see things differently.

If we take a look at the word discipline, it shares the root with the word disciple. I’m not going to go into some religious lagacy, but just consider the meaning of the word disciple or bhakta, which is how the same person is called in Hare Krishna tradition. A disciple is someone who has surrendered his will to the coach.

For me, the coach is myself … or rather the part of myself I have yet not named, but it’s a she. She is the divine feminine that is waking up inside of me. She is my primal nature; she is Nature itself. Her gift is to find wisdom within her cycles; her gift is to descend and ascend, and give to the world all the love and beauty and softness she has gathered along the way. And what she needs in order to do all of that is … inspiration.

My idea of discipline? Surrendering to the inner guidance and feed it well with a lot of inspiration.

Again, my idea of discipline? Every day I take time for things that inspire me; I take time form y yoga and meditation, I take time form my barefoot walk, I take time to spend in Nature, and as of today … I take time for my kitchen playtime. That means I take time for the new app I’ve created, called Igralnica Kuhalnica in Slovene (but coming in English as well) and for sheer plain experimenting in the kitchen. When I’m throwing things together I fill like a kid again, wide eyed, barely managing to wait what’s going to … become.

That way, I’m becoming anew every second of every day. And that, my friends, is a gift.

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I am RICH

The past ten days were quite intense. I know, I am fully aware of the fact that I often say this. It’s because I often feel this, too. And I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the decision that I made many a year ago: I will never be bored in this life. And although I still agree with this, I reject the notion that if’m not bored, I have to feel the exact opposite of »bored«. I reject the notion that we live in a boring, linear, either-or reality, because the world that I want to experience is jucier, richer, vaster, deeper, more abundant than that.

I have felt the need to dig deeper for as long as I can remember. The »why’s« seemed to have no end. And although I looked for answers in many places, I was more often than not – dissasitsfied. I didn’t conceptually know the answers to my questions, but the answers I was getting didn’t seem right; they didn’t click. They were what was know nor accepted within this linear society, but they weren’t the answers to my questions. In this society we are taught to see things white or black, good or bad, light or dark, up or down, and we are taught to favour only one: the white, the good, the light, the up. We are taught, many would argue, right, while wrong would mean … seeing things for what they really are?

Shakespeare said: »Nothing is either good or bad but thinking makes it so.«

It is time to learn ourselves subjectivity. Things are what they are, it’s just that. Yes, they stir emotions inside of us. Yes, we are here to feel all of the feels … but we are not here to dwell in them. We are here to use them as guidelines. If something stirs a feeling within us, let it come, for it’s here for us to gain from it.

No, I will never be bored in this live, I’m a single mother after all. What I will be is RICH with all of the abundant feelings that a powerful, creative, passionate woman’s life can be.

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Taking Responsibility

The past week has been a roller-coaster.

Do you know the feeling when you know you’re doing the right thing, but everything you keep bumping into are obstacles upon obstacles upon obstacles? I sure do. I sure know how to feel sorry for myself. My mantra used to be: »I knew something was gonna go wrong.« I really liked that mantra. For a long time, it served me, because it saved me from responsibility. I hated responsibility and I never learned how to take responsibility … for my life. What does that even mean?

I liked my mantra, although the statement wasn’t actually true. I didn’t literally know what was going to happen, but I did always happily consider everything that could go wrong before everything that could go right. I was in the state of mind that Sara, my dear teacher, calls »God’s mercy«: when you think about the obstacle and you realize you really don’t want it to happen, but you feel like there’s nothing you can do to prevent it. You feel like somebody else is navigating your boat, while you sit silently under the deck; you’re small, yet you’re safe. And if the going gets rough, it’s not your fault.

I fell into that state a few times this week. I just stopped something and launched something new. I oh-so-know that what I started is the right thing. I can feel it in my body; I feel twinkles of excitement whenever I think about this project, and rushes of excitement when new ideas unfold and upgrade and reveal. It’s so right that it scares me.

So I go on … showing up late, not handling things, manifesting Svarun’s one-night-stand diseases, spilling chamomile tea all over the car, forgetting my laptop, forgetting the essentials, buying the wrong camera that the program doesn’t accept. There were approximately a million things why I could give up. But strangely my insistence seems to override my resistance. There have been a million instances when I could simply say: »The Universe is testing my persistence.« But I know that’s not the case. And another thing I know … I am responsible for my life. I take full responsibility for my life by always being in tune with what I feel. And I know that the obstacles I created are just my inability to accept … abundance. Abundance does not have one face alone. All that happened and nearly made me cry but in the end made me crack up open, is colorful and varied and very abundant. Oh, yeah.

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Hey, guys, I’m in …

… France.

We arrived last Tuesday to do some seasonal work of grape-picking in Champagne. As soon as I learned about the possibility of it this year, I knew this was something I wanted to pursue. I heard a lot of warnings about it being a really hard work and I didn’t want to be away from Svarun for two weeks, but if I listened closely, I could hear my soul clearly, telling me that this was the experience she wanted. This would be a unique opportunity to earn good money in a short while, to spend some more than 24 hours’ worth quality-time with my boyfriend alone; this is something we haven’t done in eighteen months of knowing each other. And it would be a good time to recalibrate myself within the relationships I have with the people I love the most: my son, my boyfriend, my parents, my friends and my sisters. The Universe agreed, so we took off on Monday night.

Thus far I can’t tell you what the work is like and – maybe even more important – what the payment amounts to, because we start the work tomorrow. But I can tell you about

Being in an intimate relationship that works for me is hardest thing ever. I am certain I have come here to learn how to make it work, while being me, and being happy and whole all the way through. They say that the ego is the price for true love and I have come to think that it might be true, because being here with my loved one is boiling my stubborn self onto the surface big time. My stubborn self tells me I’m the captain of my boat, and I am eternally grateful for being able to hear the echo of these words on the inside. She mostly acts as my cheerleader, who gives me the faith in myself that I need if I want to do things that matter. Sometimes, though, she will make me believe that I should always come up with my own solutions, even though others’ ideas may serve me better. You see, my stubborn self considers taking an advice to be a failure, because it’s not mine enough. My stubborn self is doing everything to protect me from getting hurt she’ll even say things like:

You’ve come this far to get a glimpse of who you are that I’m afraid you might forget what being you is all about if you follow the path of least resistance.”

Come to think about it, that does not serve, but imprisons me into thinking that I should always do it on my own. And “on my own” sometimes feels like a very lonely place. Basically, it is just like saying: “I’ve travelled 1200 kilometers to get a glimpse of what a vreiment croissant beurre (the real deal butter croissant) tastes like that I’m afraid I might forget the taste when I get home. So whenever I want a butter croissant, I should travel 1200 kilometers because purchasing it at a local French bakery doesn’t cut it.” What?!

Aren’t we here to learn to distinguish what works and what doesn’t? Aren’t we here to learn to recognize the path of least resistance and follow the signs onward?

Doing my own thing, even when I recognize is not working, is not the path of least resistance, while dissolving the attachment to “mine” is. While I still believe all of the answers are dug deep inside of us, I have come to accept that I’m not less of myself when I follow an advice. I’m not less of myself if I can admit I’m wrong, or I’m being mean, or I’m being insulting; I’m on the way to more. And expansion is what my soul loves to do.

The path of least resistance is the one we can follow only if we’re done believing what we’ve been told; that live is a struggle, that we ought to fight to do it right, that most of our energy should be used to make a living … not a life.

Life, anyone?

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Abracadabra

I can feel my period approaching. My body just wants to rest because the lower back is in its monthly pain. My mind wants to lure me into mellow thoughts upon waking up in the middle of the night – furious – due to Svarun’s kicking; I was raging and since this is not my usual response, it is a clear sign of tension building up inside of me. But my soul, however, just wants to feel joyful. Both for no reason, and for a good reason.

Remember how I told you I had lost my wallet about a month ago? Well, today I went on my meadow to do my peace work. The barefoot walk alone woke me up and put a smile on my face, as it always does. I put down my yoga mat and looked at the serenity of the sea, when all of a sudden a thought hit me: “The wallet is in the couch.” You see, the sitting part of my blood red couch can be moved forward and thus offers a storage place within the framework. That’s about the only place I haven’t checked, and that’s exactly where my wallet was hiding from my sometimes splurging self. Joyful, joyful! But that’s not all I wanted to talk about today.

Lately, stuff has been happening. Good stuff, amazing stuff, actually. The Universe has sent me technological angels that help me round up my talents into what I’m here to offer to the world, while they do the “computer paperwork”. The latter used to bore me to tears and sucked out all of my zest for life and mission, so I call it a miracle that I now have two amazing business ladies, helping me out with my weak spot. I can now finally grasp a picture of the coming months, both in terms of my wellbeing and creation. I can now see where I’m going professionally, which from the plateau I had hit a few months ago, seemed highly utopic. Boy, oh boy, do I like this picture!

How did this happen? I set an intention.

I wholeheartedly intended that I wanted more clarity in my life, my business, and my relationships, and – viola – clarity came to me. That’s where these two angels came from: a clear vision of the brightest future that takes into account all of my values and needs (that are thus far known to me). Similarly, last Friday I intended that I shall find my wallet this week, and – violà – the wallet came back to me. It’s as though I had said the words that the so-called magicians performing tricks in front of children always say: “Abracadabra.” And while you may think that this is a nonsense word, let me suggest to you otherwise.

Abracadabra may come from old Arameic, the language that Jesus and Mary Magdalene spoke, where it translates as “I create as I speak” or “I create as the word”. In Hebrew, which belongs to the Canaanite language group alongside Arameic, the word translates as “it came to pass as it was spoken”. It was said to possess healing powers and was used as a magical formula by the Gnostics to invoke the help of beneficial spirits against misfortune.

Surprised? Not anymore, if we know that a word has more substance than a thought. This is the reason why it is advised to write down everything you desire on a piece of paper, instead of just thinking it through in your mind. The mind is airy, but the word is watery – it goes deeper than you may know. And although I may not have inspired you to use “abracadabra” when you are invoking something into your life – make sure you use words that are beneficial, flattering, positive, healing.

What shall I do about my back pain, then?

“Abracadabra, I will feel joyful all day long; and when my mind floats, and when my back pains, I will come back to the joy that I find in my breath, with my eyes closed.”

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Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abracadabra

Further reading: https://mosaicmagazine.com/observation/2015/07/are-the-origins-of-abracadabra-jewish/