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Barbora

Security

When I returned from holidays I found a thick envelope lying on my table. It was my new job contract. I finally got a secure position... I should be happy perhaps, but I am not so sure this is what I feel. I sat down and went through it. Line by line, page by page reading through all the rules and entitlements... until I got the 'pension plan' paragraph. As I read it, I could feel a violent urge to REBEL inside me... All I wanted to do is to grab my backpack, sell everything I own, grab a car, plane, helicopter, bicycle - whatever- and go visit a part of the world I have never seen before (the wilder, the better).

You see I like the job, I like the people.. it's all good for me... Yet, good things should not feel like you are signing a contract with the devil. I thought about it a little... then I took a piece of paper and wrote a letter shortly stating that I do not wish to enter the pension scheme.

You probably think I am crazy... well, truth be told, I think I am too. However, I am not too worried about that. Crazy people are the best ones I know... the happiest ones as well.

To me a feeling of security given to you by anything or anybody outside yourself is nothing but an ILLUSION. It's not real. No one can promise me I will live long enough to enjoy the money I save now... no one can promise me I will be healthy enough... no one can promise me that I will spend my old age in security! The world changes all the time. By the time I am 60, the world as we know  might not even exist. And even if I live a long, long life and all is still the same... Long life and sufficient pension do not MEAN pr PROVE that I had the life I desired... an adventurous life full of passion, crazy ideas, love and sorrow, a life that is FULL OF LIFE.

If your argument is that I 'need to think about my future'... Well, that is EXACTLY what I'm doing. Most people spend their lives 'thinking about their future', trying to make it as secure as possible so they buy 10 different kinds of insurance and pensions and all kinds of 'just-in-case' crap. All in case something happens!

If I have a worry in life it is this one: That nothing will ever happen to me!

How scary is that! To me that is the worst possible scenario of life I can imagine. Things happen, that's part of life... both 'good' and 'bad' is beautiful and necessary.

Have you seen V for Vendetta? do you remember when Evey says to Finch: 'Because he was right, this country needs more that a building right now'? Well, in similar spirit, my soul needs more that a pension plan right now!

A simple act for the sake of principle... of an idea.... is very powerful. It will not let me to 'fall asleep'. Even if, in next few months, the circumstances model my life into a routine... I will remember that I DO NOT WANT to sell my desires for a cheap replica of security.

The One without a Title

I stopped... It took me some 24 years but I stopped.

The rush.

And suddenly it's quiet and my mind is in a dazed state of clarity.

Don't we all rush to get things done? Isn't that what they tell us since we take our first breath screaming on the top of our lungs?

'Get it done! Do this and do that! Finish it'

And we are stressed because we are already so old in our twenties. We have been alive for so long and  we are not yet the greatest, we are not famous, we don't have this and don't have that... And the list of tasks is getting longer and longer and we are getting slower and slower at checking things off that list... so we rush even more because we are running out of time...

Before you can get the life you want you have to tick a certain number of boxes on this list... isn't that what echoes among the walls of our minds, what they repeat and paraphrase? Over and over and over and over again... So we go on rushing through the tasks and never pay attention to any of them. Our speed-dazed minds are already thinking of the next task before we even start the one before.

Nobody bothers to mentions that those tasks you rush to get done are your life. Maybe not the one you want but definitely the one you are living. If such state of existence even classifies as 'living'...

Oh, don't think this thought is new to me... These ideas were swirling in my mind ten years ago when I spent my days observing the world from the safety of my attic room, staring out the window and pouring my soul on pages of countless notebooks. Throwing up in words all the garbage from my mind and selecting the jewels from trash.

I swore to myself I would not do that. I wouldn't believe what they told me. I wouldn't do what they told me. I decided to live my life the way I want. Choose what to believe and how to live. After all, I was given a brain and I intended to use it.

Beautiful ideas... ideas are always easy to talk about!

Talking is easy. Believing... not so much.

Living in accord with ideas is even tougher.

Everyday life is a sneaky little bastard, it makes our glorious ideas look so silly. Why? Well,  first of all, it gives us very little time to think... we are left adrift to our feelings. So, if feelings are in conflict with the ideas... Huston, we have a problem!

Ideas are products of our minds... the words give them sound; language lets them breath and reproduce. However, believing does not come from the mind, nor does living. It digs deeper into our selves... those selves we do not quite like to talk about because we cannot quite grasp the concept and that is unacceptable. We live in a very smart and slightly self-involved century... people have never been more intelligent (at least that is a wide-spread opinion). Nowadays, it is an unpopular choice to deviate from the mind - we are too advanced to be charlatans.

But the truth is that ideas in itself are powerless, fragile creatures scrapping along at the end of food chain... it is our faith in them that gives them strength. It is that deeply rooted feeling  that makes us LIVE the ideas.

The conflict arises when we think or find the ideas... we like them, we want them, we adopt them... and keep on talking about them, making sure everybody knows that these are our ideas, our way of life. And we go on talking without realising that this superficial fling with a philosophy is only skin-deep...  Nothing but a gilding on a cheap replica. You fool yourself into thinking  that you are that person and all kinds of little sins against this philosophy come and go unnoticed. Once in a while you repeat the ideas to your friends or strangers. You do so boldly, with a glass of beer or wine in your hand. You lay your cards on the table so the world can see you've got it all figured out and you are not afraid to say your opinions out loud. We all know that this speech is not for the people sitting around you, listening... it never is... it is always for ourselves. We need to remind ourselves who we are... in words, because , somehow, we cannot see it in our life.

So, yes, I was young and full of wonderful ideas and I went out into the world and did things differently... there were times it was not easy. I had to argue and defend my choices... I had to explain over and over things so natural to me but alien to people around me. And a lot of times I did not manage to explain and had to learn to live with the fact that I have hurt a person/people I love and care about... at least temporarily.

With a backpack full of passion and confusion I set out on my journey and done things differently.

Or did I?

My own passion fooled me.

Attention, here I am finally getting to the point!

The epiphany that struck me could not be simpler: I have not done things differently, I merely did different things. 

I refused the list of tasks they gave me... and blinded myself with another, cooler 'TO DO! list' gilded in an enviable ideology. And so I went off RUSHING through life... in my very own specific way!

Don't get me wrong, I am not regretting my choices. I am very grateful I made them and, truth be told, so far I have had a pretty amazing life mainly because I made these choices. The point is, it is mind who is telling me how amazing it all was... I can't really remember the feeling of it.

Do you know why?

Of course you do.... my writing is rubbish and I repeat myself constantly.

Anyway!

I rushed... to get it all done...

Not consciously of course!

That is the point! I thought I really deeply believed in all my precious ideas and lived by them courageously.

I did not... I tricked myself into it... like everybody else.

I was so busy becoming that I forgot to be.

To be... now.

Which was basically the fundamental point of my philosophy... and I stomped it into the ground and hid it under the footprints of my achievements.

OK, perhaps I am being a bit theatrical here but theatricality is a good tool to make a point clear.

I had been feeling that something was not quite right for quite some time. A few months ago, I started shyly dipping my toes in the sea of actual LIVING... I mean living in terms with my own philosophy (of course, I did not realise that at the time!). Things were set in motion!

A notion started to form inside me... a feeling that I could not name, could not grasp.

It hit me today! It hit me like a frying pan a cartoon character! One would think this was a moment of glory... but the price for leap into inner enlightenment is high - it serves you the realisation of how absolutely dumb you were till now for not getting it.  

Eureka!!!

 It is not really about what you do, or how much you do. It does not matter whether you travel the world, or never set a foot out of your country... whether you go off and achieve  goals that will affect many generations to come or whether you find a nice job, fall in love and have a family... Whether you become an artist or on accountant.

It is HOW you do it.. how much you give yourself into it.

Yes... nothing new...nothing you have not heard million times before.

But were you reading carefully?

I did not say - an idea was forming in my head...

A feeling.... and that feeling was a belief. A belief in the idea that has been in my head for years! Suddenly that idea was no longer swirling chaotically in my mind but it steadily resonated in my heartbeat. I set on the sofa, my body pleasantly tired, taste of ice-cream still lingering on my tongue, fairy-lights illuminating the room with a colourful soft glow as the dusk poured in through the tall window... I did not think.

I felt it.

Nobody ever tells us... Slow down! Breath! You don't need to become the president, reach the stars and break at least thirteen records by the age of twenty. This is your life now... not what you will be doing tomorrow or in 10 years... enjoy it, savour it.. whether it feels great or it hurts as hell... don't  ignore it... let it be. There is NO RUSH.

They don't tell us because it's scary and, most of all, liberating (and free people are dangerous).

It's incredibly frightening to live in The Now.

All the things that we have done, those that are finished and ticked off the list... they are done, they are the past. Past might make us feel uncomfortable but it's over, it cannot really reach us anymore. The present  we rush through. If our present is unpleasant, we rush through it because... well, we want to get it over with. If our present moment is good we rush through it to do even more of the 'good stuff'. And the future! The future is abstract. Future is always what we want it to be.

If you live in The Now... you are exposed! So vulnerable! There is nowhere to run, there is nowhere to hide. You have to face and deal with whatever comes your way. You are bound to confront the fact that although your past influenced you... you are not your past and also, that you might never become your future.

You simply are...

Now.

 Who you are is in your hands every second of everyday. You have to accept that you actually have power over yourself and your life. And that is fucking scary! No wonder I avoided it till now... but it's also exhilarating in the best sense of that word.

If you are not satisfied it is probably because,  most of the time, you don't actually do what you want, you don't say what you want. You, just carry on getting things done.

I am very scared... It's a huge step for me to admit something like this. I worked all my life to defy fear. Instead I should have just accepted it and gotten on with it. (Another moment of ''glory''... an older one, so I had time to come to terms with it).

I have always been afraid, especially of closeness!

 And guess what is the one thing I want?

Yes.

Exactly.

Sharing my 'self' is not so easy for me, I am too proud to be vulnerable... or at least I used to be... or am I still? I do not know. I always found this world to be strange and fascinating place. I found myself to be quite strange as well... Much stranger than others. A lone stranger in a world full of normal.  However,  I think that is because we just became so damn good in hiding how weird we are. Every single one of us! This strangeness makes us feel so inadequate sometimes. But inadequate for what? Nobody really knows... slowly this fear of mine, my little personal leach, is disappearing.

You see, fear is a bit pointless... It's an emotion created by POSSIBILITY of something happening. It's based on fiction. It has absolutely nothing to do with reality.

Oh, life is soooo good!!!!!

No grand words need to express that...

I am very happy! I feel awake and alive... Not because I've got it all figured out. It's because I am not rushing to have it all figured out. Figuring out is a process! A fun process and - let's face it- probably even more interesting than the thing you are so desperately trying to figure out.

I have so much work to do... on myself!

But there is no rush...

It's time to live fearlessly.

I dipped my toes, now let's jump!

On Education or Why I care so much...

Quite recently, a friend pointed out to me that for a person studying education management I sure have a very negative attitude towards institutions and institutionalised learning. Well, I can see his point, however that is exactly the reason why I chose to study education.

It took me a long time to decide what I would like to study... There was a moment when I considered delaying going to university in favour of 'the school of life experience' (to the utmost horror of my parents as they considered it major waste of my faculties and a very unwise decision)... It seemed natural to me... It wasn't because I thought I couldn't handle university... to the contrary, I loved and still love learning and I am thirsty for information like an alcoholic is for liquor. The problem was that up till that moment, the only thing school almost managed to do was to put me off studying... I felt I was suffocating not growing. Most of my learning I did during high school years was from my own initiative, more often than not done outside of school. I am not saying it was all terrible... I am just saying that as whole it was... nothing. Nothing is worse than terrible... there was no challenge, there was no love, no passion, no curiosity in teachers or students (I am not throwing everybody on the same pile... of course not everybody was like that, I am just trying to make a point by depicting general situation I found myself in at the time)... the system in place did not create opportunities for any of those things. On one hand, I am not blaming us because the system is strict and hard to work in... on the other hand... it is US who create the system. There is no 'them'. But then everybody knows how to exert blame all over the place, a skill widely used all over the world yet the least useful one in history of human civilisation. I am a pacifist, but every time someone is blaming someone or something or, even worse, constantly complaining without taking action, I have a powerful urge to punch them in the face.

Anyway, back to the point. My parents' and pretty much everyone else's little obsession with having a degree got me thinking. I completely understand their concern and see their point. In the current societal structure which has been increasingly label-oriented, it is easier to have a hold of some of those labels because they can get you places. They want me to be equipped for life. On the other hand, I see that most of the time, people don't pay much attention to whether you actually are/know those things... not really... but you just must have them... that is a little bit screwed up, don't you think? We are more likely to trust a piece of paper that states how skilled or smart we are rather than trusting ourselves... We don't feel like we have achieved something unless we get that validation from the outside. Sometimes, I still catch myself doing it, but I am working on it... I feel I got pretty good at it comparing how I used to be, hungry for recognition of others... until I realised that it is so much harder to earn my own recognition... I am one tough judge! :-D

To be clear, there is nothing wrong with being rewarded for effort. Nevertheless, there are many ways in which these outside rewards can be misused... and many ways in which they can help us lie to ourselves. They can, very easily, create a false feeling of achievement... especially if we achieve something we don't really care about. Because we have a feeling we achieved something, we don't feel such a powerful need to go... to do more of something that would be important to us but we were a little afraid to do because it wasn't something... usual.

So, in my last year of high school, I weighted my options and  at last, I decided that higher education will be good for me.... One needs to know the system in order to defy it. Plus, I spared my parents some premature, stress-caused gray hair... I was much less opposed to the idea of a university abroad far away from the feeble ghost of learning environment created by Slovak Education System. Studying abroad gave me a great excuse to do what I wanted to do anyway... travel... explore... observe... and it gave me opportunity to broaden my horizons about how learning happens in a different culture. I was considering studying everything from philosophy, psychology, literature, cultural studies, languages... and, yes, I stuck with languages because I thought through language I can reach it all: people; culture; literature; philosophy of living and being; and the psychology behind people's decisions, ideas, thoughts and actions... From that it was easy to admit to myself that I deeply care about education... I love to learn but I love to see other people learn, I love to teach... I love seeing other people craving, loving learning! So, I leaped happily into postgraduate study...

To be clear, by learning and education I don't mean to have your nose stuck in books day and night (though I do enjoy doing that time to time)... that is only a very small part of learning... learning happens all the time, continually from the day we are born till the day we die. Like love, it comes in all forms, shapes and sizes (I am aware that is a very cheesy line, but a true one nevertheless).

We forget that culture... society is a live organism, constantly changing because our lives are, perhaps, not long enough to realise how flexible the world is... Society picks the kind of knowledge and learning it considers important... Society and culture are fluid, ergo, what is important is not set in stone, as it often seems. It changes with each and every thought and ideology that come to light and start shaping the world around us. Human beings are complex, amazing and capable of breathtaking things... we just sort of forgot to trust ourselves...

What I have in mind is education that will educate the whole person... not only one tiny part of us. Also, I am not advocating some kind of anarchist approach... Guidance is good. I am talking about a system that will create and independent, full person who does not need the system to continue creating, to continue learning any more... a person who trust him/herself enough to step where no one stepped before without worrying about diplomas and labels... I am talking about education that will not discriminate knowledge a system that sees more than your multiple-choice test score.

Just because here and now there is a certain type of agenda, an ideal of perfect life, perfect type of achievement, the 'good kind' of learning and living, that does not mean it is correct... nor it means it's incorrect... It is a very strongly advertised option. That is all... just an option. That 'best option', the ideal was different 10 years ago, 100 years or 234 years ago... pick your date... it will be different few years from now, too. It's different in UK, different in China, different Africa... But this is not what we learn, is it?  

Schools in many countries, especially in Slovakia (maybe not especially in Slovakia, but it's my country, so I care a little bit too much... that's pretty much why I can't live there, I would go mad), kill curiosity, kill the will to learn something for its own sake... in students as well as teachers... no wonder people are pessimistic... if I wouldn't be a little crazy (most people call it crazy I think I am just stubborn with love and lust for sophisticated rebellion) I would also be a pessimist... OK probably not... but you know what I mean. If schooling sucks the life out of you, I suspect there must be problem somewhere... 

Life is amazing... Moreover, life is education, life is learning...  they are not two separate entities. I might be naive but I don't care, I have a faith in humanity as well as in myself. Plus, history has proven, over and over again that a kind of naivety (the kind that seems out of touch with constructed rules of reality) always comes with the best ideas, mainly because it has no concept of the impossible.

Whatever I can imagine, I can do... I believe that everyone else can do that, too.

Back to Basics

I need to incorporate writing into my daily routine. This sounds terrible... not because of the writing but because of the fact that it came to the point that I have to say such a thing! There were times I used to write all the time without even thinking about it. Why did I stop? I could find zillion reasons and create an intricate conspiracy theory that would blame it on everyone and everything happening in the world from pollution to societal developments over the last decade. The cruel truth is that it is entirely my fault simply because it is I who yielded... the circumstances are just there, it's not their fault.

  

Although, I still do it ... in theory, I have never stopped writing... I write from the moment I wake up till the moment I fall asleep. I narrate, develop plots, conversations, situations, descriptions all day long, in my head. Every time I phase out during a conversation... every time my friends catch me not paying attention. I know it's annoying but I can't help it. It happens over and over again. I don't even think I am capable of thinking any other way. I do it constantly! Interestingly, some of my best work is always done in motion which explains my obsession with walking. I walk all the time and everywhere, I love it, especially when I am alone. My mind goes wild. It is also pretty funny as time to time, if I am working on a conversation packed with emotional responses, it sometimes reflects on my facial expression which in consequence really confuses random passers by... when I think about it ... I am a rather strange person I suppose... I can't be sure, I have nothing to compare it to. It may be that everybody is strange (in a way) but some manage to hide it better than I. I would love to see how it works in someone else's head...

But back to business! Since I haven't written for some time, I assumed it would be smart to get used to the physical act of writing every day before committing myself to writing (or attempting to write) literature. Writing is an amazing convoluted yet simple process and I love it, but to stick to a story and pull it all the way to the finish line is to a great extend an act of determination and perseverance. It does not matter how much you love the story, there will come a point you will want to throw your laptop against the wall... Creating a world and characters in it is a bit like playing God and that is a lot of responsibility... the most difficult part is to actually place that finish line because no one else will do it for you. Anyway, Since this day onward, I am writing a blog entry every single day until I get into it... It can't take that long... the salsa challenge was a challenge only first 2-3 weeks... now I am addicted and there is no way back... not that I wanna go back :-) .

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On Dancing or How to Turn Philosophy to Practice

       It is preposterous how much can change in a month and how very little it takes for it to happen. In this case, the first fallen domino piece was dancing. Well, it's no surprise, to me dancing has always been a cure to everything, especially diseases of the mind that tend to creep in your subconscious and attack from within. Dancing is woven into the chaotic structure of my body and soul and... God, every time I hear the music!!! It sweeps towards me like a tsunami and there is nothing I can do but go with it... But I am not talking about my usual dancing... where my mind finally goes into a stand-by mode... stops thinking, analysing, articulating, composing and decomposing arguments, predicting improbable probabilities, developing alternative outcomes, alternative realities... and the only aspect of the 'real world' that reaches me is the music... there is nothing else. I am getting a bit poetic here, but that is pretty much the feeling and trust me, it is awesome! Dancing is the only time I have never felt self-conscious... and the only time I felt truly powerful (Except perhaps for writing... but writing gives me the sense of power of the mind, dancing gives me that of the body...).

In any case... this was not the dancing I had in mind, although it is the ultimate goal! This time though, I would like to get there through structure. Yes, you heard me... structure! I suppose it's about time... the chaos needs to be tamed.

The problem I have always had with undertaking any kind of social or choreographed dance classes was, in fact, quite explicit: In order to do that, I had to THINK about dancing... about what I was supposed to do with my feet and hands... and, on the top of that, worry about other people and partners! Frankly, even a thought of that was overwhelming... plus I knew that thinking made my dancing terrible. I know, that with training all the moves would become automatic and I would return the security of my thought-deprived sanctuary. I guess I was simply too scared of the insecurity of the transition period... and much more, but I will get back to that later.

One day, not so long ago, I was faced with a choice to join such class... we could call it fate or a coincidence...though l prefer calling it an answer to my little cry for help to the universe or whatever higher, lower or medium power there is out there or inside us. Because have it been any other time in my life I would have said yes perhaps, but would have never turned up... As always, I would think about it but then throw away the idea into a recycling bin and forget all about it, until life would swallow it, process it, recreate and reuse it and return it to me in a form of a green bag, or one of those fancy sneakers from recycled material.  I started to realise, reluctantly, that something was not quite right sometime in November... From outsider's point of view, there was absolutely nothing wrong and, truth be told, I had no rational reason to be dissatisfied on any level. However, the quiet, nagging feeling of wrongness was spreading like a plague, undermining my every waking moment... Turns out everything was just fine... everything was as it should... Now THAT seriously scared me!

I was fine... how disgusting! All was fine yet I stopped writing, I didn't go dancing as much.. I didn't laugh as much, I spend my time thinking about what I already did or will do and devoted little thought to what I was doing... which, you are guessing right, was nothing.  And I thought this was all behind me and I had all the 'live for the moment' philosophy figured out to the point of mastery... well, I didn't, but honestly, we all know it is so much easier to live a lie... though it's also depressing and 'depressing' does not exactly fits with my noble life goals of eternal happiness and all the other kinds of happiness you can find in/out there.

 Somehow my life became less mine and more of a 'should be' version according to everybody else... I don't see how that's even possible after all the journeys I have thrown myself into but... well... I am a resourceful person, so I suppose my subconscious is not very different. Anyway, I knew there were things that needed fixing... I also knew that after all those years of figuring things out on philosophical level, I would need to get down to earth and get practical... roll up my sleeves and dig in the dirt... After Christmas I knew where the problem was and I started to change what I could.. it was not easy until... yes... here is where salsa sails on the stage with its mischievous tones and spins and turns... turns that turned my life all around and upside down and from side to side...

The first two classes I suffered a little bit, I was too self-conscious... I mean, I enjoyed it very much but I was way too aware of everything... too aware of having to worry about not only me but also my partner, the steps, being on time with the music... things I usually do naturally became a particularly messed up Rubik's cube... I was over-stimulated and about to crash... Like, for example,  the situation when you open too many programs on your computer at once and, at first, it tries to cope but at some point it just goes: Screw you, you impatient bastard! and freezes... that is how I felt... And trust me, I contemplated quitting so many times. I was telling myself I did not want to do this, not really... but who are we kidding... I'm a girl and that means at some point in my life I have seen Dirty Dancing. And every girl who has seen Patrick Swayze march into the room and say: Nobody puts Baby in the corner!  wants to learn how to dance... in dancing there is beauty, there is passion... there is cooperation... there is symbiosis of movement... and all that is so incredibly sexy, even when the guy looks like Patrick and he is not your type... when he danced with her she forgot she had a type (I forgot I had a type)... Anyway... point is, I wanted to know how to dance salsa!

The truth is, it was challenging... but then... I thought What the fuck?!

Excuse me for swearing but it was needed... mainly because when did I EVER quit when something got challenging... I was the one usually looking for the situations that would challenge me, scare me,  me, bring out the best of me! This was the point where I officially diagnosed myself with a widely recognised disease known under various variations of 'There is something seriously wrong with me'. This was one of my identification points... what I mean is we all have things with which we identify ourselves... by which we define who we are. I have writing, books, dancing, endless almost annoying optimism, being smart (this might sound a bit conceited, but I don't think it should be taken for such, as I know I'm not stupid and in number of life situations I have proved myself in this sense, so I think it is safe for me to claim that I am smart... I'm not saying I'm the smartest, far from it... I just know how to get by fairly well) loyalty, travelling, honour, challenging myself at all levels, resilience... if I don't do these things, then who am I?

So, all this taken into account... I did not quit, I would not quit and I would go to that class even if I would have had to drag myself there by sheer force... it was not only a point of honour but a very strong point of survival of my own self.

Now back to the music & dancing! What structured dancing with a partner has taught me? I don't even know where to begin...

While dancing salsa, after a very long time, I have been absolutely consumed by the present... there was nothing but me and my (re)actions in that moment. All the gibber-gabber of my ever sizzling thoughts was gone. There was quiet... this excitement infused peace started to take over my everyday life... everything changed... I was here at last. Also, this change was incredibly fast... it seems I just needed a well placed kick in the right direction.

Dancing with a partner called attention to my trust issues (I have assumed this after careful analysis, I did not realise it at the time). Don't take me wrong, I was aware of my trust issues before, but boy, you can really see it when dancing! You see, this is one of my idiosyncratic contradictions, I see the best in everybody, I trust everybody with everything except... well, myself.

Subconsciously, I was always trying to lead (I still do that sometimes if I don't trust that the partner, or just because I don't know... but I really, really try not to), I was not expecting the partner to do it right... but I guess that is the lesser of the two evils... I am aware of it and when it can  or cannot be useful.

The bigger problem is the stubborn little head on mine. I was not listening (with my body) to the partner and at times went off spinning in the other direction... or, worse, I was listening but I spanned the other way anyway.  I can see how that could be annoying. I could feel the intention of movement in my partners hands, yet my first reaction was to go against it. That is just pure rebellion! At first I just thought I was making a mistake but then I dug a little deeper into deep and dusty shelves of my issues in case there were some dirty little secrets I was keeping from myself.

I gave it a thought and this is, in short, what I came up with:  

I am bloody aware I can be obstinate as hell, but I always took pride in it, because it got me where I am today. Dancing has shed some light that on the fact that stubbornness can cause me trouble (as I have been warned before but refused to believe such nonsense). The thing is that for quite a few years now (ever since I first left for US when I was 17) I had to strongly defend my choices and continuously prove myself... prove that those choices were good ones. I could not show I am afraid or that I am unsure because all of those ventures were my ideas and they were not always easily accepted. I had to be a little iron lady about it and I have a feeling that all that defensiveness and headstrong attitude clang to me a little too tightly. So, it's time to let go. I can still be stubborn, I think there might be need for it in the future, but in the mean time salsa can teach me how to be submissive, because there is nothing wrong with that, especially in dancing.

The last aspect dancing fished out from the toxic lake of my slip-ups was the seriousness that  wrapped its despicable claws around me... Brrrrr... Hell no! I even started to take myself seriously and all of you who know me also know that is a ridiculous thought. Life is fun!!! And, most of all, dancing is just dancing... whether in a class or a crowded club... forget everybody... listen and dance!

The funny thing is that is none of this is new to me... I knew all about it and though I also know there is a big difference between knowledge and practice, I still get cheated into wrong assumptions and choices... I have a very clear idea about the principles I want to govern my life, about the philosophy to accompany my choices... Some of them are easier to follow then others and sometimes life happens too fast and pushes philosophy down the dirtiest ditch by the highway... But there are ways of successfully putting philosophy into practice and one of these way is dancing... because every time I dance, I am reminded about the power of the moment, benefits of listening, strength of cooperation, joy of submission, pleasure of movement, and delightful lightness of being!

Time to Say Goodbye

The train station was empty, sitting peacefully in the sun, pretending it was part of nature.

I knew he was there before I saw him… I learnt to feel him coming, it was easier that way. I slowly turned my head and measured him curiously. The greyish smoky form of a man was sitting right next to me looking into the distance. His features were losing the battle against afternoon sun. He looked weak and tired.

We sat there, next to each other, waiting for the other to say something… The silence became stern with tension. I sighed and looked up at the sky. I could not remember last time it was so blue… The day was too perfect for a goodbye.

I was thinking of a best way to start when spring breeze whizzed through the platform rearranging the positions of forgotten candy wraps and cigarette butts on the floor. For a split second I froze with worry that it will disperse him into nothingness before the train arrives.

He laughed.

‘Look at you… Isn’t this ironic?’

I smiled and nodded. ‘I suppose… but I could not help it.’

‘I see… hmm… perhaps you need me a little more than you admit.’ He murmured quietly.

‘Listen…’ I turned to him, ignoring the shadowy resemblance of a face and pinning my eyes to the darkest cloud of smoke in his chest which I assumed was his heart.

‘I know this is hard for you, and though you don’t believe me, it is hard for me, too. You have always been there for me… all those years! You did everything in your power to protect me, to keep me from getting hurt. I appreciate it and I know you always meant well but… I just don’t think that getting hurt is such a bad thing anymore. Sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes that is the best way to learn. It’s not pleasant but it’s not that bad…’

He tried to seem oblivious but his smoky existence swirled a little faster.

‘Do you remember a few years ago, when you begged me not to do it? Not to go? And first I thought you were right. It was too crazy, too dangerous but then I couldn’t obey, I couldn’t listen because I just did not want to let the chance pass me by again…’

‘That wasn’t the first time you didn’t listen to me…’

‘I know, I know… but it was the first time…. The first time something happened… something changed inside me. I was happy, despite the fact that not everything was so great and I knew I will have to work really hard to get what I wanted. But I could see it… I could see myself getting there and everything just fell into place! Being there was not so important anymore because getting there itself was just so fascinatingly satisfactory in itself… I knew I might get hurt along the way but that didn’t matter because trying it just seemed….’

‘…so much more important than me…’ he finished.

I didn’t know what to say.

‘I’m sorry…’ I mumbled.

‘Please believe me, I’ve never meant to disappoint you… I’ve never wanted our relationship to end up like this. You know very well how hard I tried to make you part of it all! But you didn’t want to… you started to get weak and grew sicker and sicker every day! I can’t watch you suffer like this anymore! You need help… you need change!’

‘I’m fine where I am… I can’t change… I can’t change my nature, don’t you understand that?! I will die!’

‘No! No, you won’t! It is true that we can no longer be together… If we do, one of us is going to destroy the other. Neither of us wants that… but if you take the train… the journey… the journey will transform you!’

Another gust of wind swirled past us and I saw him shiver from the effort to keep himself together. He turned his face away from me and looked up to the west end of the railway tracks that disappeared behind the trees half a mile from the station.

‘Do you really believe that?’ he asked in a low, tired voice.

‘Yes… I do!’ I replied softly and watched him fade a little more.

‘You are killing me darling…’ he said with a sad smile.

‘I’m sorry…’

‘I know… if it really is so important to you, I will go…’

‘Really?’

‘Really…’

I wanted to tell him how much that meant to me but before I could say a word the railway vibrated with promise of an approaching train and soon several wagons with a glorious old steam locomotive at the front rolled their way to the station.

‘Right…’ he said and stood up, ‘time to go!’

‘Wait!’ I stopped him, ‘I have something for you! It’s nothing much but I wanted you to have it.’

I reached down and pulled a small red suitcase from under the bench.

‘What is it?’ he asked a little surprised.

‘Can’t you feel it? It’s full of our memories!  I don’t want you to forget me where ever you are going…’

He gently brushed my arm: ‘I will never forget you… how could I? We grew up together, you don’t remember but when you were little there were moments I felt we were one…  without the memories, will you remember me?’

‘I can’t keep any part of you with me, you know that. But how could I ever forget? Every time I will need to be brave and strong, I will think of you because without you I would have never known I was any of those things...’

‘But… you… you have to be strong all the time… It’s very tough out there. ’ he watched me with sincere worry.

‘Exactly…’ I smiled at him. ‘So event though, you won’t be with me anymore I will think of you every day. I am not alone, you are leaving me protected… you taught me well! Perhaps not in a way you intended, but nevertheless, you did a great job!… Thank you!’ I said at last and offered him the red suitcase again.

He hesitated for one more moment, and then grabbed the handle: ‘Thank you…’

I watched the suitcase burst out of its material existence and cuddle around his heart in a form of red dense smoke. For a second he seemed to become his old self and in that moment we both knew that this was the right thing to do. There was no place for ‘us’ here anymore. He gave me a last quiet nod and boarded the train.

He did not find a seat but stopped and stood in an open window right next to me. We stood there in silence again. Neither of us liked goodbyes very much.

I looked up to him… So weak and fragile again, fighting the whims of breeze and daylight...

‘Goodbye…’ I murmured.

‘Goodbye, my darling…’ quietly said my Fear.