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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Rollercoaster, anyone?

How many times were we as girls, maidens, and women told we were being too sensitive? If you are anything like me, it was way too many times to count. On the other hand, how many times were they told they were being rude, violent, brazen?

Kindness is the highest form of wisdom, they say. I agree with them. When we don’t consciously work on being kind to our fellow humans, we often create a space of void in between us. We create separateness and pain. Sure, I am conceptually fully aware that nobody can really hurt me. I am aware that when I’m in my peace, nobody and nothing can bring me down. I take full responsibility for my peace, I do. But what if I still got hurt?

It usually went something like this: He would tell me something I didn’t want to hear in a manner I wasn’t prepared to receive. I would close my heart, change my mind, and start playing the break-up game of minding my own business, ditching our future plans, and start focusing on my things alone. The closing of the heart would cool me down completely, and I would get by with snapping, rudeness and indifference. Eventually, he’d get my point and I’d tell him I didn’t want to be with him anymore … until I’d start missing him. I know for a fact that we both love each other immensely, but I also know that the languages we speak could sometimes not be more foreign.

“You’re hot and you’re cold, you’re yes and you’re no,” says one Katy Perry song that used to be quite popular. It got into my ear today because it sums up perfectly the way I relationships used to portray an emotional rollercoaster for me. While rollercoaster might sound fun to you, this really wasn’t. Plus I lost a ton of energy by first heating things up, then suddenly freezing them down, and spinning round and round. Seeing this energy waste for what it was really rang my bell today, and made me say: “I’m not going there today. I don’t need the drama.”

I didn’t roll on a rollercoaster today. Because how I roll as of today is by hugging and kissing myself, telling me that nobody is here to hurt me, that the Universe has my back, and that these are the lessons I need to learn.

Upon today’s lesson, he calls me and says: “I’m sorry I was cranky earlier.”

“I’m sorry I took the advantage of things and let them hurt me. Hmm. No, wait, that’s not right … Hmmm, wait, I got this …”

“You’re sorry you helped the conversation go that way?”

“That’s it.”

Peace. No energy loss. Big heart gain.

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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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For Fear of …

* What do you do when you fear you will hurt? When you first sense the ripples of a drama effect inside you, bouncing uncontrollably to the surface of your experience?

* What do you hold on to?

* Which feeling/ story/ role do you play out?

I’ve been having multitudes lately. It’s not that I’m not used to them, I am. In fact, when it comes to relationships, drama turns out to be the only thing that I’m really used to. Multitudes … of one day smiling my arse off at the idea of all of us just playing out our roles for one another’s growth … and the very next day acting out my good old drama when I need an excuse, a justification, grounds to judge. I feel vulnerable. It seems that I only feel comfortable inside a relationship when there’s drama.

I remember vividly when I decided upon that. We were having a family vacation somewhere at the seaside when I was about seven. I don’t recall the event, but I do remember a dark seaside cottage in the best uniform Yugoslavian style. I don’t recall what I was doing, but I do remember my parents snapping at each other. I don’t remember what the tension was about, because they always managed to find something when they were doomed to spend hours on end in the same room, but I do remember what I thought to myself.

“If this is what being married looks like, I don’t want it.”

I used to despise the fighting. I used to know that fighting is the result of someone’s current inability of not being able to relate to a fellow human.

I was right. But then I became the fight. I became it by closing my heart.

Whenever I feel like I might get hurt – I close my heart, I step back, and I shut up. I do all of that although I know that I’m closing up both to the light and the shadows. I close my heart to fear of being hurt, but I close it to love, too. I step back from what my conditioning calls good, and what my conditioning calls bad. I shut up not only to the cry of a harpy, but to angelic healing melodies, too. There is nothing coming in and nothing going out. This basically means I’m stagnating and could really use a flush.

One thing that I really learned at Sara’s Saturday SoulSpa is that us humans need flushing regularly. We need to be open, we really do. That way the world can enter us, our soul can experience it, and then we can flush it back out into the world, but keep the wisdom that we gained along the way.

So, my dearest heart, open up and smile to the world today. All is well. Everything loves and takes care of you.

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What a Day

I. Can’t. Write.

 

My feelings are feeling me.

How do I know? I’m out of control.

My thoughts are thinking me.

How do I know? I want control.

 

I knew it couldn’t have been long

until I burst into the song

of who’s right and who’s wrong.

 

Do I let myself cherish the good

or do I keep coming up with new things that could trigger a flood?

The flood of feelings that I always felt

and always knew I would.

 

Do I still play according to “no pain, no game”?

Well, that’s a shame.

Haven’t I learned anything this year?

But wait, there’s a feeling here …

If I put my hands over my womb,

I hear it whispered softly

… that my peace resides there where my pain hides.

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Dancing Soul

After three days at the Floating Castle festival out in nature, we just got back home to our colourful, clean and cosy home. Svarun has just finished a painting of our car while I’m typing this, not being entirely sure what I ought to speak about tonight because my head is pretty busy right now. I’m full of lively impressions of the music and the dance; I’m full of fluid feelings, being stirred up to the surface by well-known dramatic stories that my mind has been replaying for the past three days; and I’m simply, purely, entirely – full. When a friend asked me this morning whether I wanted some breakfast, it just hit me: “No, I don’t want to put any more information in until most of it goes out of me.” (Food is also information: one that we pass on to our body, about our very relationship towards it.)

How can I be free, if I can’t dance in front of thee?

Whenever I hear the first couple of tones of a gypsy tune, my body is all eager to tell me: “Come on, I need to move. I need to dance and lose myself in the timeless, where my soul dwells.” I love music, I always have. But dance I’ve only come to meet in the last couple of years. I was first drawn to the belly dance, which led to flamenco, and then to shakti dance last year. The need to dance only came to me as I was coming more and more into my body in my twenties. Before that I lived in my mind most of the time, expect when I went to pee or poo or something. Living in the mind, daydreaming and calculating the whole day, you don’t feel the need to move your body in order to express yourself. The body then only starts to serve as a tool to get from A to B, much like an aging vehicle that you have to feed for it to move around.

But when I first lost myself in the music, dancing, I felt very close to the Goddess. The music cocreated this dancing orgasm with me, moving my body up and about and finally letting it be all that it was meant to be: soft, sexy, sultry, daring, powerful, fluid, gentle, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, all at the same time.

The Goddess shone through me, making me a little more free.

Sofia Sundari, a tantrika whose blog I really like to follow, says: “I think every woman should dance, because what happens when she lets go to the music, is so beautiful.” I couldn’t agree more. Agreeing, I can’t skip the sharp pain in my heart. “Then why can’t I dance when I’m not alone?”

When the music calls to me, I remain petrified of what everyone else is going to think about me.

At the end of the day, the only think that’s important is how I think of me. Because what I think, I shall become. I am the only person who can do something about my life. And if I feel the need to dance to the beat of the drum but don’t go, because I am concerned about other people’s opinions of me, I betray my soul. The latter only craves to experience everything it can in order to come to know itself a little more, a little deeper, a little better. It always cultivates hunger for the everything, that each and every one of us hides within.  If we let ourselves be lived out of our soul, we make the world a better place. How do we do that?

We must lose face to find ourselves again. We must lose the shame to experience the bodily sensation that a certain move has in our body, we must lose control to experience an orgasm, and we must become nothing, so we can experience everything that we are. This reminds me of the depth in our relationships, something I’d been thinking over the last few days. The deeper we go, the more we have to lose all of the boxes that we’ve gladly put ourselves into. The closer we get to the essence of who we are, the more masks we give up.

Do I dare to look up now, after he’s seen me in a different light somehow?

I needn’t dare to look up, as I needn’t have put myself down after behaving in a certain way.

The only think that’s important is how I think of me at the end of the day.

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I am Enough

I’m sitting on Svarun’s bathroom step stool (you know the little steps they make for children to reach bathroom sink) while the computer is resting on our bamboo laundry hamper, dancing throughout my typing. I just washed my hair, something I was looking forward throughout the day, and I love how the water is freely dripping on my back and ass. I’m sitting here because I have nowhere else to go; namely, the floor in the rest of the flat is still wet from cleaning. I cleaned the entire flat because if there’s something I know about myself it’s that I like to return to a fresh and tidy home. So I decided to make myself happy. I’m the first one to take care of that. It’s just me after all.

During the day while I was preparing vegan treats to sell at a weekend festival here in Slovenia, I felt really good … but confused. I had this conversation in the morning with my friend and we were talking about running a business and making in happen and while it left me inspired for a while, it all melted down into these existential questions like “who am I” and “what is real” and “do I have to pick one thing to be, or can I immerse into everything that my heart desires”. I liked the existential nature of the questions I was asking myself because I think that once in a blue moon (or rather every moon) it’s good to redefine ourselves. Like, from head to toe. That’s one of the qualities of the darkness; of digging deep into oneself.

Who am I, then?

My friend Attila from Arambol’s jungle in India sums it up perfectly, when he says: “When we switch off the mobile and all the information and the news, suddenly it’s awakening by itself. It’s what we are all dreaming of, to be nobody again – it means ourselves, not this or that.” In the darkness, the etiquettes that we’ve attached to ourselves dissolve and what is left is what we really are.

What I learned today, is that I’m enough. I’m enough to do all the work that I need to do. I’m enough to go to a festival alone with my son. I’m enough to keep my son company. I’m enough to set up a tent, think of all we’re going to eat in the following days. I’m enough to do it all by myself.

Mind you, I didn’t know this before. I was always taught that a woman, let alone a mother, needs a man to help her out, so I gladly accepted the help that was lying around. I had been counting on it, so it always came. But with time I’ve learned that by accepting people’s help to do just about everything, I was disempowering myself. When I would break up with my boyfriend for the hundredth time, I’d call a friend because I couldn’t handle my emotions; when I would need to pay a bill, I’d call my father to do it for me because I couldn’t do it via the internet but didn’t feel like going to the post office to do it physically. The list goes on. And while I’m not saying it’s bad to ask for help or accept it when offered, I am saying: don’t count on it. The only person I can count on is myself. And this I’m not saying with my a mouth full of bitter ash of disappointment, but with pride and a full heart that knows – I am enough.

It’s always just me … which I mean in the most empowering way possible.

Go girl!

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