Renewal

This moon’s cycle is all about Renewal. Renewal of Trust.

Yesterday I spiralled down to the place where I felt hopeless. Is everything I used to believe a lie? Is this the kind of world where I want to raise my son? I went to bed with my mouth full of bitter ash and I had a hard time sleeping with all these pictures running through my mind. I didn’t want to feel what I felt but I knew I had to feel it. Once a month I allow myself to take the pains of the world as my own; I drown myself in the scars and sink deep … only to rise again stronger and lighter then before.

Today I rose again. I was blessed with time and space for me, as my boys were away. I was working on an inspiring project that I’m preparing for all of you, guys. Reminding myself of what I stand for, what I believe in, and what I praise and preach towards instilled in me a new sense of Trust. Trust into the World that I doubted yesterday. Trust into My World. This meant: no, I didn’t feel like cooking. I felt the way I feel every menstruation, and it is to spiral down, cuddle up and dig, dig. No, I didn’t feel like cooking, but instilled with the new sense of Trust into the world that wants to caress us … I knew we would be fed.

So I finished work, and went for a ten minute barefoot walk on my meadow before picking my boys. I followed the sun’s invitation and cuddled up with golden grass beneath the top of the hill, where the Bora couldn’t get me, and soaked in the last autumn rays … when my mother called. She seemed excited to invite us all for dinner because she was blessed with beginner’s luck to find three big mushrooms on a walk through the woods.

Mushroom pasta for dinner? Thank you, heavens, for guarding my descent to renew my Belief into the world.

I knew we would be fed. And I knew, even in the darkest hour, when I had trouble sleeping, that everything would be okay. Everything is always okay, if there’s Trust in the okay. It’s the same kind of Trust that the story will come; even if it is 8 p.m., when I slowly unplug myself from the World.

If I Trust that there is a story to come, the story will come.

If I Trust that everything will be okay, everything is always okay. The question is … are we okay with the okay, or are we aiming at something else?

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The Need for Rituals

I’m not a creature of habit, and I have never really made friends with routine. If anything, I found it scary because I usually felt so comfortable with change. But one thing is change, and the other is chaos and I was definitely leaning more in the direction of the second.

My best friend once told me: “Your middle name should have been Chaos, you know!” I don’t actually have a middle name, nor do I think Chaos would sit exceptionally well beside Tamara. However, if I take into consideration the meanings of both names (Chaos and Tamara, which in Hebrew means “date”, the fruit of the date palm), I come to think that I might just be here to find the sweet spot within my thunder, the calm within the storm.

*How do I do that? Daily rituals.

I’m not necessarily only talking about the morning routine, but a night one, and maybe a midday one, and before and after meals. What I’m talking about is Sādhanā. The word comes from Sanskrit, where it means “spiritual exertion towards an intended goal”. I have witnessed Hindus make poojas several times per day, each day, but I never really thought about the whys, until recently. It’s to keep the connection with God/ the Universe/ all that is/ Earth/ yourself/ life at arms’ length. It’s just that. No matter what your religion or no religion is, everyone’s “intended goal” is to be happy, right? In other words – peaceful.

There are certainly different paths to happy. In fact, I will go thus far as to claim that there are as many ways as there are people. It’s true. Blessed be our uniqueness, blessed be our equality.

I said Sādhanā was a spiritual practice. What that means is it’s a life practice, because all of life is spiritual, even taking out the trash, washing the dishes, freaking out, crying out loud, having sex. This only goes to prove that your rituals might include a warm cup of tea drank before going to bed, a blog that you read daily right before you start working, the walk that you take over to the grocer’, a stare at a night’s sky, a massage of your breasts at dawn, listening to that song, pulling those oracle cards, looking yourself in the mirror and saying out loud how much you miss yourself, going to pick up wood for fireplace, a green smoothie, a combing of your hair, a dance to the dark goddess. It may be anything and everything. The only thing that’s important is that you recognize it, and cherish it for it’s here to aid you.

It’s not like we lose the connection if we don’t pray/ meditate/ do breathing exercises regularly. The connection is always here because we are a part of all that is and that cannot be undone. However, if we don’t keep our rituals regular, we tend to forget about the connection more easily because there’s less (no) things reminding us of the sacredness of life.

I think that is what brings us peace in the first place: seeing, and feeling, and smelling, and touching, and tasting the sacredness of life and of ourselves.

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Spirituality and Mamahood

Spirituality and mamahood. Where do they intersect?

Svarun went on a week-long holiday with my parents on Saturday. While I do believe it’s healthy and desirable that we spend 7 days out of 365 apart, I miss him a lot. And I feel guilty, too. Guilt is probably the number one emotion all mothers worldwide experience. We were conditioned with the role of a perfect mother and when we don’t live up to it, we feel guilty, all the while forgetting we’re only human with strengths and weaknesses.

On our Saturday’s sweat lodge that I talked about here, I received a very profound message.

(I say received, because I didn’t hear or read it anywhere, it just came to me formed in words, through my mind, and in into the knowing. I usually get such messages in form of words, because words are my chosen form of expression, but you may get it as a vision, a voice, a set of numbers. Receiving such messages from the Universe is what I call divine inspiration; it’s how the recipe for my synergy bars came to be. It’s as if I was reading the book of Universe that contains all that is, all that was and all that is yet to be.)

Back to the sweat lodge. When we made the fire to heat the rocks and sat down, forming half moon around the circle, the following knowing came to me:

Your task is to turn all of the conditions that your mind sees as weaknesses into your strengths; they are here to serve you.

I knew exactly what we were on about. I’m very devoted to my personal growth and spiritual practice, as I have been on and off for the past six years, but never to such an extent as now. But considering I’m a single mother who worked and raised her son at home for three and a half years until he went to kindergarten this February, I was not given much time to harness my internal peace. For three and a half years it meant either waking up really early and risking the exhaustion of my body, or the exhaustion of my mind that was craving 5 minutes of me-time. But even when I was given the five minutes, I didn’t know how to use them because I was avoiding myself and my darkness. I conceptually knew I should meditate, but never took the time to sit on the meditation pillow. As soon as Svarun finally fell asleep for his midday nap, I ran away from me and went … to the kitchen, to the internet, to clean something unnecessary, to do anything that would prevent me from facing the stillness. I lived in such frenzy that honestly, I didn’t know how I remained sane.

Now that I do all of my peace work, I still sometimes experience the contrast (that I talked about yesterday). Then my ego mind would try to come up with an excuse to set me free of the responsibility: “Well, I’m a mother. If only I had all the time in the world to invest in my spiritual journey, I would be a spiritual leader by now.” Bullshit. Nobody has 24/7 to invest in their spiritual practice. Besides, every situation we find ourselves in it’s because it is here to support us; they are not something we need to fight. Yep, even being a mompreneur and trying to meditate. I had the feeling long before Svarun was born, that I will grow with my first child. But up until now I wasn’t very good at putting that feeling into practice. For example, I would witness his reactions that were pissing me off, and I knew they were actually my reactions. They were the part of me that I didn’t want to acknowledge, so I felt the need to fight them, condition them, uproot them.

I don’t feel bad about it. But I do see now how every single circumstance is a blessing. Our children are showing us the mirror 24/7. It’s just copy-paste, copy-paste, copy-paste. They are a reflection of ourselves and when there is something in them that bothers us, it’s because we have it, too, but trying to ignore it.

And I thought I didn’t have enough time to devote to my spiritual practice?! Time is not something we have. Time is something we make.

Right now, I can either go back to trying to have the time for my meditation, yoga, and reading, or I take the time that I’m given with this precious being as devotion to my spiritual practice, such as it is. Just being with Svarun is a seminar in the very next things in and about me that must be dealt with in order to life a happier and healthier existence. The best part, thought? I know he thinks I’m fine just as I am. Children don’t have a hard time forgiving, us adults do. One time I asked Svarun why he choose me to be his mother, and he said: “Because you seemed young.” I didn’t fully understand his response then, but I know now what he wanted to say. He knew he was going to be my teacher, and he knew his mother was going to grow as she went.

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Forgetting to Breathe?

We all find ourselves in situations that feel uneasy, right?

Sometimes it’s because our unconscious mind takes the lead, without us taking any part. Other times we consciously create them, but ignore the alarm that turns on when we plan. I often do that. I have this fear of being bored or something (that definitely needs further investigation), plus I take no conscious notice of time, so I rather keep myself on a tight schedule than no schedule at all. I did this today, too.

A friend of mine invited us to go for a dip in our lovely river Glinščica, just below the old railway tracks Trieste (Italy) – Rijeka (Croatia). A dip in the river in the middle of summer sounded wonderful, and so did hanging out with new friends who were on the same wave-length, so naturally I said yes. The walk down the canyon was supposed to take half an hour, but actually took us at least an hour with Svarun’s pace. We had a wonderful time, but when we got back, we felt exhausted. Nothing wrong with that, though. Except I had to go to Ljubljana to pick a friend of mine and Svarun’s grandmother who were both visiting us, spend the night here, and go researching the Dragonja river valley here in Istria tomorrow. Right now I feel drenched. But as I said: I love being busy and there is nothing wrong with that. Except – am I capable of not being busy?

When we got to our place, Svarun was hitting the roof. He often does that when grandparents are involved, because they have no authority over him. It was in the midst of his jumping around on my birthing ball that I had this moment of peace; I realized I took no notice of me today. What that means is I forgot to breathe. Breathing is what connects us with ourselves, as well as to our time and space. Breathing is what keeps us grounded. When we are not aware of our breath, we aren’t aware of ourselves. When we aren’t aware of ourselves, life lives us. When we are aware of our breath and thus ourselves, we live our lives.

So what I did was let Svarun go for an ice-cream with his grandmother, which I decided would do less damage than a freaked-out mother. I took a quartz crystal, which is a great cleansing stone, and my dearest obsidian that a friend of mine found in the wilderness of Tenerife; the latter grounds and reminds me like no other. I had no measure of peace this morning (my yoga and meditation practices), so I took one now. I sat in stillness and listened to the life around me until I could hear the wild birds chirping in my mind. When that happens, I know I’m good. I’m back. And I was: breathing and being. And it was enough.

Speaking of which, let me tell you about this amazing experience that I had yesterday night. I tried hope for the first time. Hope is a ground mixture of tobacco and herbs that the Amazon Indians forage, and is used to clean your nose, sinuses, and third eye. I was up for it instantly, because I’m very much tripping on the third-eye-anything at the moment. When I inhaled the dust into my sinuses, one nostril at a time, tears came flushing down my cheeks and so did booger. But after the first reaction, my breathing pathways cleared and I started feeling a lot of heat congesting in the middle of my brain, in the pineal gland. I started feeling utterly present. The presence was penetrating my being, as though I was having a breathing orgasm. I was breathing and living, that’s it. And it was enough. When we gathered around the fire, my friend was asking me whether I’d sing something, because he knows I love singing. I looked at him peacefully and said: “Maybe later. Now I’m just enjoying my breathing like I never have before.” A breathing orgasm. Go get yourself some.