Notranji fokus

»O, ja. Danes nisva imela najboljšega jutra,« mi šine misel, ki hoče, da jo zapišem.

Jaz, poponoma neprespana, sem pogosto uhajala iz realnosti in le s težavo držala prostor Življenju, da se umedi, Svarun pa je znatno nejevoljen, nemotiviran. Nebo je zaprto in obeta se nama še en dan med štirimi stenami.

In potem se vprašam: »Zakaj bi sploh omenjala nekaj, kar ni dobro

Tisti del mene, v katerem vrejo odgovori, sedaj z desno roko vzhičeno potuje skozi moje razpuščene lase in jih umika z vidnega polja, ker misli, da bo s to avtomatsko gesto odgovore lažje zadržal na ogrlici, preden v popolni eksploziji kaotično izbruhnejo na dan; preden jih za vedno vtipka v tale sevajoči ekran. Ampak preden dam besedo tistemu delu telesa, kjer je vzhajalo vedenje, se poprosim za potrpljenje, da najprej izprašam nekaj drugega: »Kateri del mene je tole jutro označil za »ne najboljše«? In kaj to sploh pomeni? Mar obstaja nek namišljen vprašalnik, kjer veselo izpolnim kvadratke in empirično določim, kaj še velja za dobro in kaj ne?«

Če ste že kdaj prebrali karkoli sem napisala, potem morda že veste, da ne maram kategoriziranja. Sita sem tega, da mora biti nekaj slabo, da je lahko nekaj drugega dobro. Sita primerjanja in ločevanja in izoliranja. Sita nesprejemanja tega, kar je – ko ni, kar »bi moralo biti«. Ja, sita. In vendar sem bila sama tista, ki je današnje jutro ocenila za »ne najboljše«, mar ne? Tisti del mene, ki je podal to oceno, je odmev patriarhalnih maskulinističnih vrednot, v katere smo bili vsi vzgojeni in katere nam še vedno (enim bolj, drugim manj) krojijo življenje po svoje. Življenje, v katerem ni prostora, da ženska znotraj nas vstane in zasije, kot ji je namenjeno sijati.

Ni, da se vlečem ven. Ni, da iščem krivca. Hotela sem samo poudariti, kako globoko so te – za nas toksične – vrednote nesprejemanja zakoreninjene v nas. Žive so zaradi nas, ker jih nevede, nehote živimo. In jim dovolimo, da nas ukalupljajo v nekaj, kar ni naš pravi, polni izraz, ker pač naravna, organska, primarna ženskost našo družbo tako zelo vznemirja. Tako naravna, organska, primarna ženskost, kot tudi ženske vrednote vznemirjajo našo družbo. In to se nanaša na vsak aspekt življenja. Lahko govorimo o dlakah pod pazduho ali o tem, kako vrednotimo svoje delovanje. In, ali je sploh potrebno vrednotiti svoje delovanje?

»No, menim, da vrednotenje kot tako ni sporno; vrednost je univerzalna komponenta življenja in nas samih. Kar je sporno, je naš odziv na lastno vrednotenje. Ta je tisti, ki šteje. In kar je sporno, je izrojena percepcija vrednosti kot take, ki vlada v družbi, kjer se visoko vrednoti materialne dobrine, medtem je večini ljudi odvzet občutek za lastno vrednost,« pišem, ko se mi misli pričnejo trgati.

Poskušam ohraniti fokus: »Ne samo, da vrednotenje ni potrebno, v resnici je celo boljše, če ga ne prakticiramo. Ne, če si želimo stopiti v svojo polno žensko moč … ne samo me, tudi naši moški in otroci in nasploh ves svet od nas potrebuje, da stopimo bolj v žensko energijo.«

Pogledam na uro, pa zaslišim: »No, no, dajmo, dajmo, Tamarči, še petnajst minutk imaš. Pohiti, da tole zaokrožimo.« Diktatorka. Notranja okupatorka. Večna kritičarka se zvesto oglasi. In njen pritisk, njen ustroj, me ustavi v koraku. In pripravi do tega, da zamrznem. Da drobencljam z besedicami, ki so se prej v mislih povezovale v čudovito, povezano celoto, in ki sedaj tvorijo samo nekaj nepovezanih konceptov. Tako nepovezanih, da sploh ne vem več, ali se mi vrednotenje zdi v redu, ali ne.  Sploh ne vem več, kje stojim.

»Deset minut,« se spet neizprosno oglasi sodnica, medtem ko mi Svarun iz dnevne sobe kliče, »mami, kdaj bo 45 minut?« Svarun je doma z vročino (ki se nadenj priplazi zvečer) in ta čas, ko jaz pišem, se on igra z dinozavri in avtomobilčki v dnevni sobi. Vsake toliko časa še pride po kak objemček ali poljubček, sicer pa po svojih močeh spoštuje, kar sva se predhodno zmenila – da bom danes 45 minut pisala, medtem ko se bo on sam igral. Morate vedeti, da je to popolnoma neznan teritorij za oba. V tistih dvanajstih urah dneva razdeliti čas tako, da bodo osnovne potrebe obeh zadovoljene in se tega držati je bilo kar izzivalno. Predvsem zato, ker navdih, hrana za mojo kreativnost, le s težavo preživi neumorno tiktakanje obveznosti; predvsem zato, ker navdih pride, ko pride, in ko ne pride, pač ne pride.

»Še pet minut,« odreže ponovno diktatorka v meni, in še bolj pomeša napetost z nemirom. Se še nekaj trudim iz te moke zamesiti kruh, pa ne gre. Nič se mi ne drži skupaj. Vse razpada. Vključno z mano.

Čutim grenkobo razočaranja. Nad seboj in svojim delovanjem … Čakaj malo, kako je pa to možno? Ali se nisem pred računalnik usedla ravno zato, da ne bi čutila razočaranja ob pomanjkanju pisanja? Ali se nisem namenila pisati ravno o tem, kako toksično je nekaj ovrednotiti za dobro in nekaj drugega za slabo? In ali se nisem namenila pisati ravno zato, da si za vse veke vekov zapomnim, da pridejo slabi dnevi in da ti ne pričajo o moji lastni vrednosti? Ali je možno, da v sebi ponovno čutim to diktaturo patriarhata, ki se na vse kriplje trudi ohranjati zunanji fokus, mojo zbranost, jasen cilj pred menoj? Je mar možno, da so ti maskulinistični pristopi k delovanju v meni tako močno zakoreninjeni, da ob vsaki novi situaciji s svojo odločnostjo še vedno poteptajo porajajočo se boginjo ženske esence in njeno vrlino sprejemanja življenja in delovanja, kakršno pač je?

»Mami, si že končala? Kdaj boš končala? Dolgčas mi je,« mi sladko ponovi že sedemnajstič, da se zazrem vanj, pa v ekran, in si vendarle skesano priznam, da danes za večerjo ne bo niti tistega kruha, niti zaključenega članka. Olajšanje! … pospremljeno z bolečino. Nezadovoljna z današnjim delom, me začne tedaj moja notranja kritičarka obmetavati z zrelimi paradižniki; z zrelo bolečino, ki mora biti izražena. Ta si me vzame že kar tam, pred računalnikom na kuhinjski mizi, medtem ko mi Svarun pozorno masira ramena. Z njegovo in njeno pomočjo se izvijem iz krča pričakovanj, ki je nadvladal moje telo, in sprostim v zgovoren, zdravilen jok.

Jokam, kot že dolgo nisem jokala. Tulim, v resnici.

Spustim vse zavore, porušim vse jezove in solzam dovolim, da si po mojih licih utrejo svoje struge. Da ustvarijo pravo delto, da le pridejo do mirnega morja. Spustim vse zavore in tudi glasu dovolim prosto pot. Dovolim, da se izrazi in pospremi to bolečino na poti iz telesa. Dolgo je bila v meni. Sedaj je čas, da gre ven.

»Ampak preden gre …« začne moj um napeljevati, »se ti ne zdi, da bi bilo fajn to bolečino razumeti? Saj veš, če nič drugega, izključno v raziskovalne namene.«

Seveda me razumevanje premami. Razumevanje same sebe in svojega delovanja je prva past, ki vzklije iz samospoznavanja; um hoče razumeti, hoče razložiti, hoče določiti in spoznati. Um je prijatelj, ki hoče mojo pozornost zvabiti iz telesa, kjer boli. Ker preveč boli. Um je prijatelj, ki bi me rad pred bolečino odrešil. Ampak bolečino lahko odrešim samo tako, da ji pogledam v oči: da jo priznam, jo izrazim in spustim. Ni mi je treba razumeti, hočem jo samo izživeti.

Um bi rad razumel, kar telo že ve, kar telo že nosi v sebi. Um bi rad razumel resnico, ki se skriva v telesu. Ko se zavem, kam drvim, se ustavim. In obstanem – na kavču, zvita v klobčič, prijetno zabubljena.

»Ne, ni mi treba razumeti bolečine,« si naglas ponovim. V resnici mi je vseeno, od kod prihaja in kaj jo je sprožilo. Vseeno mi je, ali je je še, ali sem vso izjokala. Vseeno mi je, ali je samo moja lastna, ali kolektivna. Čisto zares. Kar je pomembno, je, da sem tukaj. Doma. V telesu, v svojem svetišču. Kjer je luna pravkar posvetila izza oblakov in s svojim prodornim sijem napolnila mojo kupico.

»Dobrodošla nazaj v žensko esenco,« mi prišepne.

Ja, tukaj sem. Mehka v svojem telesu. Spokojna v dojemanju sveta okrog sebe. Sprejemljiva do vsega, kar hoče zaplesati z menoj. Biti mehka, spokojna in sprejemljiva je pot in cilj. Je moj notranji fokus, od katerega se mi ni potrebno ločiti niti, ko imam samo 45 minut za delo, ki vedno zamuja na sestanke. Biti mehka, spokojna in sprejemljiva je stanje, ne delovanje. Vanj se moram sprostiti, zanj mi ni treba ničesar dodatnega storiti. To je notranji fokus. In notranji fokus nudi vedenje, ki prihaja iz telesa.

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On Being Real

If you have been following me at all up here, you know I’m taking this three-month course called Abundance Group, where we aim at developing our talents and gifts into abundance. It’s amazing. And it’s challenging to see that our acquired sense of self is often the jailer for all that we could be. That’s what I want to talk about today.

What I’ve come to notice is that I didn’t have any problems stating who I was. This is the question I’ve been dealing with fort he past decade:“Who am I, really?” And I’ve come to definitions and I’ve come to conclusions and I’ve come to internalize a set of beliefs about me that I hold dear to my heart and that make me feel right. For example, ever since I came to know the hippie movement from the late 1960’s in my early teens, I just knew: “Mom, I’m a hippie.” What got me about the hippies was their FREEDOM, but what made me stay was the prison that kept my mind believing: “It’s alright if I’m penniless, at least I’m free.” Excuse me, mind, but having a child and being penniless is no fun. Even the freedom, which was the reason that I signed up in the first place, turns to anxiety and rage when my son needs winter boots and I am in no way capable of buying a pair. I wasn’t, but luckily I always had family and friends who were. 

And then I started asking myself whether this was really who I was supposed to be? “Honestly, I’m here to be broke?”, I asked myself and paused.

The voice of the wise answered for me: “Well, if you’re buying this, I’m certainly not.” It was time to acquire a new sense of self. This sense of self made me describe myself as I did a few days ago.

I’m a woman and a mother who is aiming at balance of body, mind and soul. I am a researcher of life whose job is to find pleasure in every little step on the way. I am here to tell the truth about the way and I am here to be REAL.

Seeing the world that is fake and the people who fake in order to please or reach some sort of standards,  lights the fire on my way, because I’m here to question: “Whose standards?”. If you know the answer to this, right you are; if not, go deep inside and look for them for the answers always await until you come inside. We are our own standards and once we’ve caught a glimpse of ourselves, of our true light in being … that light is loyal enough to never let us go. Whatever we sense, or see, or feel, or hear, or touch inside – it’s all good. And if your mind can’t categorize that as good yet, know that that exact thing is a call for love; your love.

We are here to do pure magic, get it?

We are pure magic! From head to toe.

But in order to let the magic shine through, we must love and accept ourselves first. We have to come to terms with all of our pieces because none are better then others. None! Sure, we have come to accept the light and the dark, the up and the down, the left and the right, and yes, even the right and the wrong. But we have only come to know these because we live in a dualistic reality, where it’s easier to understand our different pieces as contrasts. There is no harm in that – as long as we also keep in mind that all of these contrasts can only apply to our particular viewpoints (that are unavoidably the products of our upbringing, education and experiences).

Try not to label your contrasts as right or wrong. If you do that, you will show the world only the pieces in you that you think are right and hide the rest. And that’s fake. And not only is it not REAL, but it will make the unloved, unappreciated pieces of you either sink in and hold a grudge – or (if you’re anything like me) rebel.

All of our pieces are right, because they are ours and because they are real and thus make us REAL. And if they’re showing you a part of yourself that you don’t like or try to ignore or deprive of love or starve to death … they are here because of that alone: to point the finger.

Today bathe the parts that you don’t accept in yourself with love. And let them be.

They make you REAL.

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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/

Home

I used to think having a Home was boring kind of the same way I thought having children makes you boring. Instead of having a place to be, I was always looking for a new place to go. I was restless. And while I still love travelling, I also cherish home now.

The first time I ever felt the need to make a home was when I was pregnant. And although the first home I thus created was a room in my parents’ house, it gave me the shelter that home is supposed to give. It was a cocoon, so soft and gentle, where both me and Svarun first learned how to fall and pick ourselves up again, both literally and metaphorically.

The second time I felt the need to make a home is now. I’m talking about the Home inside of me, which is the most important home there is. Because what is home if not a space where you feel accepted, and good, and free … a space where you can just be you and enjoy in all the you-ness? Are you planning on spending the winter somewhere in the wilderness of the other side of the world? Sounds amazing … but be sure to go a-snailing. Like a snail, you should take your true home with you wherever you go. Your true home is the shelter inside you that you create with your morning rituals, which don’t squeeze you into something you ought to be, but holds the walls for you to manifest within. Morning rituals freshen up the body, calm the mind, and ask the soul to dance. And now, after being away for a week of no proper morning rituals, with Svarun using my downward dog as his bridge and my meditation as a wonderfully silent platform for his songs … I can really appreciate the healing nature of … tomorrow morning.

Let’s go home.

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8:8:8, Lion’s Gate

Today is a big day. The astrologers call it the Lion’s Gate, and the energies of 8:8:8: invite us to Start Living our Calling. The calling isn’t just something grandiose that we want to put in our Facebook profile. It can be something as simple as being the kind of mother that you wanted as a kid, saying no when you mean no, listen to others but listen to your own voice deep inside that’s always right. Apart from that, Lion’s Gate invites us to ditch the old to make room for the new, which is fully, truly, sincerely ~ us.

I read somewhere that the first part of 2017 was just the 2016 exam that we had to take again, but with this fresh knowing that we amounted since. I feel this to be very true for me. How about you? And what is it that you want to say goodbye to, because it doesn’t serve you anymore?

Me?

I’m burning the bridges to my compensation today. I don’t want to live in the “either – or” but in the “both – and” kind of reality.

Select not, embrace.

The last couple of days I have had these existential questions going on. What I feel I need to do in my life is very clear to me. However, it has been exceedingly unclear how I was going to make a living out of it, because I knew I was highly uprooted. By rejecting my own body in my teens, I also rejected everything Earthy for a long period of time in my life: I was telling myself and others I didn’t need or want any money, because I believed that money is addictive and bad; I didn’t want to have sex because I thought “sex was just body and I want to connect in spirit”; I didn’t goof around and be silly with my girlfriends because laughter is just something that loosens things up on this Earth plane.

But little by little, I came to my senses; quite literally. Laughter, even when provoked by silly jokes or god-forbid black humour, has become a way for me to loosen up and come to Here and Now. Sex, ditto, but much, much more than that and counting, since it offers a portal for human beings to turn into gods. As for money, it is something that reflects our inner well-being; if we feel abundant, we will attract abundance into our lives, and if not … well, I think we know what happens in that case. And abundance is something that we need in order to give all of our gifts to the world.

When I became a mother, I didn’t know that. It was then that I settled for the compensation that I’m breaking off tonight. Knowing that I didn’t move about this Earth plane very well, I proposed to the Universe: “I’m going to be making these energy bars and nut butters and other awesome healthy foods to keep the people happy and healthy, and you, my dear Earth are going to keep me grounded.” We both agreed to agree, so mote it be.

Tonight I’m breaking the deal. Compensation has helped me rediscover my Earthy self, meet many a beautiful souls, and get to a place, where I know I need to take a step further. Compensation can no longer serve my purpose now. You see, it has brought about a lot of worrying to make a living. That’s not how I roll anymore. I’m shifting the focus from trying to make a living to … first of all, not trying anymore but doing it, man, and second of all, making a life, not a living. The life is here to take care of the living, I swear I believe that. If we listen, and hear, and follow the lead, and live all that we’re supposed to live and give out all of the gifts that we brought along, we are abundant in nature, and so the material abundance must seek its way into our existence.

You know why: like attracts like.

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