I feel so upset and mad at the time I feel I have lost, and that I cannot correct my past. The only way to ‘correct’ the past is to start learning what I hadn’t learnt back then. That is the only way to stay alive now – otherwise I am just going to fall apart. It’s all I am doing these days trying to glue everything together. Trying to slowly integrate myself. Trying to find out what that self is, because, of course, I don’t know that very well. I don’t know my boundaries and I don’t know my preferences. I know I am very sensitive to energies. When I find myself with others, I feel them and I have trouble distinguishing where I am and they are, it’s a mess. Life is a mess. Plus all this trauma. I have this trauma and hold it in my tissues, in my body, in my mind, the quagmire of trauma. I can do all the meditation in the world but unless I am willing to go through this trauma, nothing is going to move, nothing is going to work.

In a way, I feel that my perspective is impossible to ‘get’. This freaking thing that my whole existence is. It’s a mess. It’s more challenging to learn things when you are an adult, things you should have learnt as a child and it makes me even more upset at my past. Another perspective I could take to ameliorate things somewhat, would be to imagine I have just come down to earth, and I have got no personal history and no beliefs at all. I am in a way, a clean, pure kind of energy aware of the power.

The power.

I would like to talk about this power I have felt in my kudo practice. After all the attempts to pour my body into correct form, I could finally feel it, the beautiful expression of energy that was flowing through me. That energy felt so natural, that I realized it was the truth of me. It was actually me, and that energy was the result of mind, body and spirit coming together. It moved and did my body, it moved and did my mind, it moved and did my spirit. I was nothing but that wonderful energy and it felt so authentic and right, I fell in love with it. I felt it and I felt myself at the same time, I felt my strength and I felt my choice, and I felt my power, and I felt that I was the universe. Nothing can touch the universe, not a single thing is impossible for the universe. Yet then the energy calms down and I go back to ‘normal’ life. Awkward body and awkward mind, whereas I want to hold this Universe energy for longer than simply minutes. In fact, I want to live in it. If I could sustain this energy, I would cease having ‘life problems’. I know that for sure. I am actually quite surprised to discover this vast reservoir of beauty and power. It has always been with me. And it hasn’t been seen, or felt or developed. Of course. I am here now to develop this energy, to cultivate it, no matter what. I would love to see the world through its lens, to see myself through its lens. It’s the Universe. It’s the Universe filled to the brim with deep love. When I am in this energy, I love deeply. Yet, I m just moving, it’s an insane kind of movement, it feels so outworldly and so natural, and I want more of it. In fact, I think that is my real thing, my real power. Now,  learning and teaching English also feels natural to me, but it’s so different, the physical skill is much more powerful – the movement integrated with the mind with the spirit, I am in love with the trinity. I don’t know how to live now, because of this new found energy, I feel that it requires an awake body, an awake mind, an awake soul. And an awake teacher. I need a teacher. I have to cleanse and develop myself, yet the process is so so slow and I get impatient, and I get hurt, and I get mad, and I get sick. I want to take care of body/mind yet the process is so subtle and stretches over this thing-time, that I just want to leave it and go to a better place, to a faster place. I have no idea why I should be sticking around apart from love. I still feel that I should express my love and I have a whole avalanche of it, inside me, and I am constantly supplied with it, yet I am awkwardly learning to make it visible, and learning to let it flow. Love is the best medicine. Love is always the best medicine.

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So, the question goes: how can I possibly increase the dose of love I feel toward myself and everyone else? Even though love comes naturally, I do feel blockages and I do feel trauma. Not only my own trauma, by the way, but how the trauma is never an individual event, how we are all affected by each other’s trauma. I feel that love is the best medicine for that.

If you are a teacher, you know that you have to meet your students where they are. And accept that. If you manage to love that as well, you will be able to assist this student so much more. I have had my share of teachers who couldn’t meet me where I was, or pretended they were okay with where I was, but it could be felt they had no interest in helping me. That was a very valuable lesson for me, in terms of my own work. I now consciously meet my students where they are, and I love where they are and I love them, whether they have the skill or not. I used to feel that I could only be accepted and loved for my skill, but now I can see life and love is wider than this messed up kind of belief. I now prefer to practice more of unconditionality.

So, to go one step further, what we could practically do, is to meet ourselves where we are, and love that. And also, on top of that, love ourselves no matter if we have the skill or not, no matter the excellence.

Excellence is one of my core values, so I am going to have excellence as my goal always. Taking my craft to that level of spiritual dance with the universe, until doing it, doing anything, feels like writing a divine poem. I love the flow. I love excellence.

Yet, we have to learn how to give ourselves the gift of time, and learn how to forgive the slow process of transformation. That is the thing – patience. And love is the way to that.

With deep love,


Recently I’ve been afraid to write simply because of what might come out.  I’ve embarked on dental treatment which is supposed to sort out the damage in my mouth. Of course I don’t feel only physical pain of it all, it is one and the same with the emotional pain of my past. Actually, I don’t perceive any sort of difference between body which is physical and emotions which are considered to be ephemeral fairy-headed things. Or headless things, since we are so inclined to juxtapose emotions to physical phenomena. Anyway. There has been anger piling up. The special kind of anger which is the piled up anger is the most dangerous because at one point or another you have no choice but to feel it – to blow a fuse, so to speak.  You have no choice but to feel (and better do it sooner rather than later). I know better now than to fight the emotions. What can you fight other than yourself, anyway? Any type of fight is a hostile behavior towards yourself. I have been trying to engage in a loving approach. This is what it looks like: you actually care if there is damage in your mouth. You freaking do something about it. And I did, I am so proud I did, because for all these years, I didn’t care. Nobody cared and neither did I. Isn’t it easy to be trained like that? People around you don’t care and you sort of pick this behavior up and land up having a staunch belief that you couldn’t care less. It’s frightening, the power of this whole unconscious imitation thing.  And even more frightening, this whole insane philosophy of not giving a fuck.

Part of me is still thinking about the scenario of “other” me. What if I had been born in a different body and with a different emotional makeup? Would they still have treated me in that atrocious way? There is no way of knowing, and anyway, the answer would be yes, because, well, you aren’t responsible for the behavior of others, let alone for their inability to love. I was raised in this torturous lack of love, and I saw it everywhere I went. I am embarrassed the way I was in some of my relationships. And sometimes I still experience deep regret and pain and sorrow when I see something ‘normal’, I feel so deprived when I see normal families and especially daddies, because I would have liked me a daddy. When I see their ‘normal’ commitment and care and dedication, I would have loved me some of that.  

I suppose I could look at my situation from the angle that would make it a tremendous advantage. I don’t have any kind of a root.  I had some roots to the place I was born but strangely enough, and beautifully enough, when I removed my sixth left molar, I no longer felt any sort of connection to the place. It was a metaphorical pulling out the roots. The dentist’s chair is a place for a weird type of meditation. It’s a pain meditation. I go back to the way I felt and at the same time I feel what the present moment is lauded with. I feel my own creation of the moment, but it’s as though my ability to create isn’t completely pure, but is smokescreened by my beliefs, by the beliefs that I am unworthy, and dirty, and tired. Even though  they are more like tinges of a belief rather than a fully real belief now. Anyway, I have been feeling anger. It was a sort of undirected anger. Maybe that is the point. To feel anger and listen to its messages. When I listen to my anger, it tells me that it’s nothing more but a release of energy that has happened due to my uncovering more of myself. The reason it feels like anger is that I have been trained to interpret it as anger.  They did this, so I should feel that, kind of logic. As if I was taught a language but it doesn’t mean this language is the only language, let alone the true one. There are no true languages. There are choices you make. You choose your language according to yourself.  According to what’s true to you and of you at the moment.

Real love. None of this seesaw kind of thing, none of that hiding. None of that suppression of what you feel. None of that pretense. None of the masks. None of the feelings that aren’t there. Raw honesty and raw how you are. I don’t mean any other type of love when I say real love. Real love is not experientially poor. Or poor in any other kind of way. Impoverished. Lacking. Voiding. I want none of that, it’s not me. 

I suspect that life is easy. You let it flow and you are open instead of succumbing all the time and hurting in distrust. Distrust, discomfort, and if I can say, dis-love, have been the usual experiences of my “original land”. I call it original land even though I can see how it morphs into my present being, where I am right now. You  and not you – that doesn’t exist. In effect, all experiences are interconnected. It’s a beautiful feeling to experience that interconnectivity, to actually feel, and feeling becomes knowledge. But that experience is short-lived and back you go into your habitual territory, into your original land. You have to have strength.  Or you will suffer in that land indefinitely.

I have been getting interested in Kanji recently, and strength symbol caught my attention. The way strength is represented echoed through me. I decided to embody it. To actually tweak myself to strength. I included strength into my morning qigong. Sometimes using my arms, and sometimes using my whole body to flow into the symbol of strength. Thankfully, it’s a relatively simple one.

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Somehow that practice of creating strength out of myself, led me to become interested in actually developing it, and my idea was to look into jujitsu.

Especially mental jujitsu, so as to learn strength in a more thorough way.   And suddenly, last night,  I found a teacher. The teacher. She came to me in a dream and we had our first strength lesson. So simple. She is perfect. The lesson happened inside the dream which is the perfect learning environment because of what’s possible there. There are fewer inhibitions. I told her about my interest in mental jujitsu (jujitsu is a form of martial art I consider looking into later)  and she had something to say about it.

We started to talk about water and I told the teacher about my connection to it. She said she was also associating me with this element. However, I do feel more connected to other elements as well – I feel grounded and I feel that I embody more fire now – especially when I am with the teacher.

I don’t really learn from discipline or the abusive carrot and stick approach. I thrive on love. The teacher knew that. Our lesson was taking place in different settings, I loved the way the settings would flow and morph. She and I walked into a room that had one bed in it. Intuitively I knew someone had died in that bed. I was going to lie down but the teacher stopped me. She wanted me to cover my head so that I wouldn’t touch the pillow – and I did what she suggested. She suggested – never demanded. She never even had that edge, that energetic point you feel in someone when they consider themselves a teacher. The teacher didn’t feel like a teacher and that made her even more of a teacher. Plus, she had that something about her that set me on fire, the good type of fire, the fire you feel when you are on the edge of “high potential” or that interesting super-consciousness edge.  Flow. But flow is different, there are types of flow. Sometimes flow is gentle, sometimes it is explosive, and with her, I felt the explosive flow which is the perfect state for learning. Explosive flow lets you dive into experience without too much analysis and without too much of anything really. Explosive flow gives you recklessness, speed, it is the acceleration of self and its drive to know.

So as we were standing in that room, I had a look at the teacher’s body and told her it was perfect. She said it was efficient. I lay down on the bed and she lay on top of me pushing down on my back and I succumbed to the pressure. Suddenly, intuitively, I knew she wanted me to resist instead, and I did. She fell backwards thus providing me with the sensation of victory but I knew the teacher had more strength than I had, she was being generous.  We did it the second time. She pushed me down and this time her grip was much more powerful and I had a hard time resisting it. She asked me to resist with all I’ve got.  I remember pulling all of my resources to the task. I remember trying to mentally reframe the way I viewed myself so that I could accomplish the task, and the last thing I remember thinking, I was the perfect student for her.

I woke up and felt. Among other things, I felt like a hungry warrior. I had never enjoyed the grapes like that. I was practically drowning in the experience of eating them, deriving pleasure, so vehemently, out of that. What a learning experience.  Thank you Teacher.

The autumn has begun –  it’s beautiful in this town. I love the atmosphere – somewhat nostalgic, but purely sweet – and there is an amazing sense of magic.  On some days, it’s easy to believe that the reality is going to crack and a black swan event will happen. Something completely unplanned for and outrageously fantastic. Something that will again break beliefs. You will never think or feel the same. Everything will shift.

That is what I feel has been happening to me here. Crimea is a magical place, it is different, it is never homogenous. When you travel around Crimea, you unravel it, and unravel yourself. Crimea is allowing of your unraveling and creation – you create yourself here. It puts you on the edge of your potential. I feel that there are two choices from there. You either relax into what you are right now or you start honing yourself, you work your work, your thinking, your feeling, your imagination.

You have your desires. You can develop your visualization skills to the point at which you don’t even need a physical experience to experience something  – fascinating. I do think that life should be approached with a sense of wonder at things like this, but today I am asking myself why is happiness so paramount anyway? Why do I, as a being, tend to want to move to ecstasy? I don’t want to stay at a neutral point. I don’t want to be just happy. I want to go full throttle and then some. I want to amplify ecstatic to infinity.  I want to stop at nothing. I want to overflow with the energy of unrestrained gentle ecstatic suns intensifying endlessly, that. What is this desire and why do I have it and how do I go about it?

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There is an element of honestly to becoming ecstatic. Emotional honesty pours over into ecstasy. You have yourself full of emotion. Acknowledge that emotion or disregard it – that is the choice. If you acknowledge it, you are with yourself, it’s a gentle act of love. If you disregard it, if you brutally disregard it, you aren’t with yourself, you don’t fulfill your role as a lover. Lover is not only on the outside of your reality. Lover is also inside you – you being your lover. That is an interesting thing to consider. You being your lover. It’s a graft and a craft.

It requires a certain degree of unclogging your emotional arteries from the ideas permeating this place – Earth.  This Earth is an interesting place, and I feel, by having lived in different places, that the reality on earth, even though dense and somewhat stable, can be shifted, so all this physical movement from place to place – is how you shift that reality which is of course proceeded by a change on an emotional level.  Every place is imbued with different energy. I find that a nice thing to do, to feel into the energetic flavours of a place – that’s part of the excitement of travel.  Crimea generally feels positive but some places, especially military places, don’t do me any good. But then drop me somewhere near the beautiful New Light or even my own Feodosia, and the ecstatic streak is there again. Especially ecstatic feels the Crimean wilderness. There is so much beauty and power in this wilderness. This wilderness is fruitful with ideas. It shows you your own potential. In a way, the wilderness allows you to dispense with layers and layers of yourself, until you are left with that which is pure, glowing, and ready to create.

What do you want to create?

Love is a complicated thing. You may love a person – that doesn’t equal them feeling loved.  If they say they love you, accept that there is an angle, a perspective, from which they say that. It is possible there is nothing false – they do indeed love you in that moment or in the past. Now if someone tells you all about their love and you don’t feel that energetically, it may be because one, the statement is a lie, two, you’ve got your own benchmarks by which you are feeling loved. If their behavior doesn’t align with the benchmarks, then from your perspective, from your angle, you aren’t loved. If there is no matching of perspectives, there is no possibility for feeling loved.

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Things are subject to your perspective. That’s your work to explore how many angles you can assume. Then it is a balance, a sort of dance between assuming the angle and letting go of it. How much of a dancer are you? Can you continue letting go when letting go is the bane of the human life. It feels like agony to let go. And the closer you are to that thing, that person, you are trying to let go of, the more the process stings. There is no recipe for letting go and maybe there should be. One idea is to do it part by part, thing by thing, word by word. You let go, of say, someone you love and have loved for so long – it’s impossible. You aren’t sane in your love. You are drunk and soft and open.  You melt in their presence, your every cell is vulnerable. But of course you are attached. You are so, so attached, it’s just as well to be honest about that. Of course you’d prefer to have a different kind of reality – chaste and absolutely spiritual, you are totally unconditional; but you don’t have this reality, you are not that. You are entangled in your attachment, in your want.   Maybe it’s quite banal. Maybe they will laugh at you.

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When you decide to let go, you strangely experience no pain. A prick of sorrow here and there. But the pain that was there before, it left your body a long time ago. In a way, you are dead. That version of you that was all pain is dead and you know it. You remember being that dying self. You remember the seven circles of destruction. You were destroyed of course by your feelings, and then what happened. You were suddenly pure and  in a different place. And here you are. Feeling sorrow. Sorrow is a much smoother emotion, easier to feel. Of course you don’t mind feeling, you trained yourself to feel. To feel life. To feel fresh. To feel the whole gamut. You still feel the negative spectrum but it’s much more ameliorated now.   You are doing really well.

So you are attached to that person and the wasted possibilities between you – you feel you have wasted Important. You count your mistakes but know it’s a dance as well. You have danced a dance full of missteps.  You remember them. You really remember them. Even their name is a poetic adventure. You feel that you have memorized their name so you could find them here. And now, let go of that.  First let it be name. Taste it again, taste it to the fullest. Give yourself the grace of time and patience to taste and then let silence come in its place. It’s okay.

And then you think of their words. You have a special relationship with words. Words have so much heft. Words may be easy to feel or be a hiding place for the emotion, the real thing. What have you felt in their words? Perhaps, everything. A lot of gentleness, a lot of hate. You have felt a fiery love a few times. Taste that, take that. And then, let silence come. Let nothing come in its place.

Don’t be confused or discouraged by when I say “nothing”. Nothing means pure possibility. Once you let go of your attachment, you will feel light, so much lighter. You will be more, so much more. You will be different, you will be the difference that you want to make – in healing this place.  Physician, heal thyself, though.





Teaching is a wonderful practice for personal development. But then again, everything is a practice for personal development. Teaching is a wonderful thing for body and mind. It may seem intellectual but actually I experience mental movement as desire to move physically. My mental journeys make me want to go for a swim, or at least take a walk to the seashore. I have never seen parks as a walking destination. But when I have a sea to walk to, I feel a kind of subtle sunshine spreading over my soul.

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Teaching only sounds one-dimensional. You take a thing and you teach it.  But you can build on it, and branch out of it, essentially morph it. In my case, I love the language and yes, I feel that I love teaching it but not the way it’s traditionally taught. I don’t feel passionate about the methods in the field. And during my teaching, there has always been this intuition that would tell me that something was off. I want to be honest about this one thing: when I teach English for the sake of grammar nuances and every day getting by, I feel that the game I have picked is not for me. I have to build on teaching not teach for teaching’s sake.

So I was thinking and thinking how I could flex my teaching so that it would be more valuable for all parties involved. What exactly should I teach? And then I had come across the book focusing on communication skills and strategies and case studies. You could even call this coaching material. Instantly I fell in love with the book. It is the first book which I absolutely want to teach and for which my enthusiasm has been greatly evoked. I am quite happy to integrate this communication coaching into my practice. I feel I am more useful this way and the sessions have become more enjoyable. And the off feeling is gone.  So it’s a win from all perspectives.

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The deeper thing behind this experience is honesty. While working, I am feeling. The feeling part is rather intense. I feel nervous and anxious, I feel happy and at peace. Every time it’s a different cocktail with different effects.  Emotions change their depth. I have never had the same session emotionally wise.  And these emotions have been my best teachers.

At the beginning of my practice, I wasn’t really analyzing them. I was trying to get comfortable with conversation. Sharing space with another human and practicing extending myself instead of retrieving into the practiced shell. I have found to my surprise, that I love extending myself and non-judgment is quite natural. It is as though I have a switch – the session starts and there is no judgment, I am entirely accepting and ready to assist.

However, I experience emotion before, during and after, a session. The gamut is impressive. I think that emotions are a study in and of themselves, and my emotional range is nowhere as near as it could be. I feel as though I have muted and narrowed my ability to feel, perhaps as a survival strategy back on the continent.  Boy oh boy, I am an island girl. And here, I have the opportunity to first relax, and second, do the emotional expansion.  And this experience, I think, is the finest kind of school.

So as I am feeling all these emotions in my practice, I don’t try to deny that I am feeling them. I don’t try to find a distraction. I don’t try to suppress. I don’t try to mute. What I try is to soften towards them. I have a choice and I don’t have a choice. I could choose to mute my emotions as I did before, but I didn’t like being alive when I did that. And now, I actually like my life, the more I feel.

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Honesty. I was honest with myself that something about my teaching practice didn’t feel right.  As if I were underplaying. Or choosing the wrong content to discuss. And I listened and listened to the off feeling. And I listened to the right feeling which I also (thankfully) get. And the right feeling is there when I teach communication. I can now see that you can literally feel your way out of an off situation.  Teaching communication may be my thing. How would I know unless I felt? This is the value of feeling – the practical value. You feel off, you feel on, you experiment. And another thing is, don’t be afraid to experiment. Clean the slate and start again – that’s how you stay fresh and your life stays fresh.  And there is something uniquely beautiful about the freshness of the thunderstorm I happen to be listening to right now.


Much love,


“When you gamble with safety, you bet your life”- Anonymous. 

You know that feeling that something wonderful is about to happen? Yet imagine, something else is mixed into this feeling. The unstable thing. Imagine feeling as if the Armageddon were near.  Imagine you shuttle between trust and no trust. And at the same time, you know and feel something magical. Now, can you reconcile these two experiences? How do you reconcile having no ground under your feet and feeling wings buzzing behind your back?

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You are the center of your experience. You are the center of thoughts. You are the center of emotion.  In all this fantastic creation, it’s easy to get overwhelmed. Easy to think that the creation is happening to you instead of you creating your thing. Of course it’s more of a co-creation happening, but lately, I have felt the acceleration inside myself. Physical and emotional, the urge to experience movement. It has been hard to be home even though the heat is intense. I go out and offer myself to heat. I actually experience the heat as energizing instead of tiring, although when my mood is somewhat out of sorts, it is tiring. It’s as though the way you feel emotionally is the primary source of physical energy available at any given moment.

I find it interesting that meditation enabled me to stand still and feel the core. The core is this subtle and beautiful understanding of your own creative power. But being human, there are layers of fear which are very distracting. It’s as though two elements are now within me: fear and creator. I experience myself as a creator and I experience myself as fearful. Life sometimes takes the flavor of being a prolonged experience of crying for help. Life sometimes becomes so ecstatic you are not sure if you are dead or alive. There is something I have been feeling guilty for: the good life. Especially in the wee hours of the morning, the stillness on which everything unfolds. The good life. And I would like to take the journey of “the better it gets, the better it gets”.

When you relatively isolate yourself, you get to experience certain things. You get to see the value of communication, the value of language, you get to think about language and you get to think about connection, you get to perceive that you have a choice as to the way you would like to communicate. You get to experience communication-less life and communication-full life. You get to choose. You get to feel both. You get to feel yourself.

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Life in relative isolation has its pros. But I wouldn’t choose it as a life style. This is a conscious choice. I want to indeed open to life as a social experience. I want to experience the deepest connections to people. I want to offer myself as someone to connect with. This was an organic choice.  This choice has emerged after a lot of movement and no movement. After a lot of being with myself, and a lot of emotional discomfort. And after a lot of emotional comfort which was harder to experience. It’s as though the emotional absence of ease, disease, was very tightly woven into my outlook on life. But here in Crimea, I have unwoven myself, in a way unbuilt myself. Here, I am vulnerable and becoming even more so. I believe that I can recast myself. Actually, that’s exactly what I have done, because I have changed. And that’s what everyone can do as well.

Which leads me to the point of emotional transformation.  What makes emotional transformation truly exciting is the fact that it’s indeed possible.  Even just the intent to transform yourself gives such a nice boost to your system. It’s also beautiful how pliable the body is – it reacts to what is going on emotionally, and you can heal the physical imbalances through taking care of your emotional happenings – and, and, diet. I find sugar an interesting thing. It contributes to mood swings.  I kind of like to feel even. Sometimes I feel evenly happy. Sometimes I feel evenly neutral. But this “even” keeps my  feet on the ground. I feel capable of taking care of myself on the physical level. There’s some fear about my work though. Anxiety there because I have it as my priority. To do my work even if I have no idea what that is. I feel as though my work is a pliable thing, moving thing, a river winding and taking different directions, sometimes merging with an ocean, sometimes becoming a mountain creak.  I am very many things. And that’s another point I want to make. You are many different things. You are the point at which all things integrate.

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From this perspective, it’s easier to learn – knowing that inside you there inevitably are the resources to learn anything.  One particular type of anxiety I’ve been feeling is the under-work anxiety. What if I don’t have enough work? What if I don’t have enough business? Oh god, in this case I won’t be able to support myself, my life here, my basic needs. I don’t want to keep experiencing that struggle. That struggle has broken so much of me. This particular struggle is the thing that I am ashamed of and even angry at, although I also feel it deepened my understanding of worth.

All my life I have questioned my worth and myself. And my life has been a challenging experience in giving and accepting. There are so many things I feel are coming at me and I am tensing against them, I don’t feel safe in all this overwhelming variety of contrasts and experiences and emotion. I would so love for someone to just say “safety, safety, you are safe”.

Emotional safety is a big question to discuss. I don’t know how to feel safe regularly. It’s either an earthquake or drowning and sometimes, smooth silky calm which feels new and is new. I would love for us all to consider each other’s emotional safety. Imagine the kind of world it would be if we asked:

Can I do something to make you feel safer?

I have released an inordinate amount of emotional energy through shadow work that I did on myself. I have used different techniques and sometimes, my own techniques, because really, you cannot go wrong with self-work. Since I have more energy available to me, I have also been feeling invigorated physically. It’s the constant striving for movement. I want to flow, I want to feel the stretch.    Yet, in order to move, I have to provide myself with an opportunity. Some kind of opportunity which would allow me to do physical travel. I don’t even care at this moment what would be more or less possible, it’s not about that anymore. I am trying to feel my way into the most ecstatic option. And that’s the thing, you know. I decided to be ecstatic.   I used to feel guilt for ecstasy and excitement, but I don’t choose that any longer. It’s hard not to choose your old ways. The old ways are scripted into consciousness, consciousness can be a steel trap. But if you exercise your consciousness, if you flow your consciousness, you can work with the old ways. You can either slip out of them or recast them. There is no definition to you. You are an easy flow.

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So, as I have been feeling both very physical and very mental, I have had an inflow of ideas and at the same time, desire for physical exploration. I wanted to move more than anything, my physicality was asking to be felt, intensely asking to be felt, screaming to be felt. It’s hard to sit down and read or focus and write or continue with courses when all I want to do is to go climb a mountain.

The energy is fire.  Ideally, I’d like to take a week off and do something intensely physical. Do some diving and hiking. I am overflowing with this forward movement. My emotional self is also being transformed. I feel that emotional transformation is something I have to become a teacher of. I feel particularly fascinated with this kind of alchemy. You go from terrible oh gosh to ecstatic. There is something intrinsically “mine” about this subject. I even feel like doing a fair bit of research on it. I could take my life story and examine it as a certain specimen but really, there is so much more to emotional alchemy than a life story. Maybe the drama I have been part of is teacher training. However I know that there are other dimensions which will be a good teacher – things like research and awareness that are based on your being an observer rather than an active participant in drama, like it was the case with so much of my life. When I was part of certain environments, my original environment and a whole host of others, I was an active participant. I absorbed the drama so deeply,  it ruined me. I made my stay on Earth an exercise in gathering negative emotions. And now I’ve had enough. It was as though at some point I was so full of shadow, and dense darkness and pain, I needed to shed and shed and shed, all of that. And what I have discovered, perhaps the most important discovery I’ve made, is that negative emotion or to be more precise, negative thought behind it, is an illusion. It’s literally grabbed out of thin air. If it’s something like this…why not make a choice in a positive direction? A positive emotional life which is a positive thought life.If I were to start thinking about emotional transformation it would follow that I would really start thinking about thought transformation. This is the raw material out of which everything gets built. But how do you transform your thoughts? Imagine a life dedicated to negativity. Until you just get it, you get it – that all of that negativity is trash.  And much of thinking, especially negative thinking, is not worth it. So much energy extended on thinking – and I wonder what possibilities we would open for ourselves if we channeled our thinking into areas such as creative work, consciousness expanding ideas, instead of doing our thinking in areas such as beating ourselves up. So much.

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So, the thought for today is to start exploring your thinking.  I wonder what you’d feel and what would happen if you chose a thought direction which you haven’t practiced much before. That means a more positive direction and it can be slow thought movement, you don’t have to radically change your thought life all in one go. A simple and fun exercise would be to take a positive thought, for example, I think I can find the opportunity to get a scholarship and look for a metaphor: it would be like opening a door to a whole new universe or widening my horizons, heck, even painting those horizons in my own subtle shades and ostentatious colours. Staying in an intellectually stimulating environment would feel like Eden, really.  Notice how that makes you feel. Notice the creativity and freedom inherent in metaphor. In your imagination. If you have so much choice, consider exercising this choice and choose nicely. 


Much love,


Warmth and energy. Energy and warmth. There is tremendous energy in being alive. I want to use words to express my perspective. I feel words connecting to my hands. The heat in my hands. Empowering, loving heat. I have released a beast inside me – this energy. Even though it’s ecstatic light, the question still arises, how much light can a human body handle?

Last night I didn’t sleep a wink because of this energy. It is the energy of movement. My mind was moving at light’s speed, and my body was eager and apprehensive to follow that shift. I lay and felt that energy playing with me, tearing me. Even though I enjoy this anticipatory energy of movement, I feel restless. There is anxiety.

The energy is tremendous and I am yet to learn how to focus it. I imagine using it for my work. I imagine threading it into my reality and changing it again. It’s exciting to see the walls of your reality breaking, its seams bursting…and you have a new thing. You realize something essential. The essential thing is that everything is concentrated within you. All your movements and potentialities are inside you.

The energy at your core is the mind-boggling freedom.

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When you access it, when you shed enough of your skins, let go of enough of your shadows –  everything becomes possible. This energy is a smooth operator. It assembles the jigsaw. It opens you and there is no difference between your being open and the possibilities being open to you.

You realize that being internally focused is the work. That the external thing that you see is a malleable bundle of energy – and it melts under your hand. It moves to your breath. 


You live the story you are choosing for yourself. You have your years of fossilized stories, your shadows and your light.
You have that strange unequivocal desire to be here.
Yet, even if you are alive, and you wanted to be alive, you are astonished by the depth of your own being lost.
You can tour the earth. You can span the countries. You can wear the silk of the sea.
You can live side by side with the most passionate sunsets. You can lose your breath to the twilight red.
You can tread the earth angelically, silently, and see with a million eyes.
You can hone your nervous system to feel the heartbeat of the tiniest creature. And always find yourself amidst stories. Stories, it seems, are necessary. You have to assume one. Even not assuming a story is a story.
So, sometimes mindlessly, sometimes mindfully, you pick a story. You make it your story. Make it more of your story. Until the story and you are so enmeshed, there are no chinks in this armor. Your story is that comfort zone. The story is what becomes suffocating and pinching. You numb yourself and keep the story. The agony of the story. The loss of natural beautiful power of sensitivity. The loss of creativity which was always so natural to you. All because of the wrong story. The loss of something so essential and so deep indeed. What to do? I have nothing left to do but to peel the stories away.

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Painfully and slowly, I am peeling the stories away. Slowly and slower, layer after layer, skin after skin. Sometimes I can feel sunlight saturating my labor. My labor is a simple one. I have this unimaginable being which doesn’t end inside me. I feel myself everywhere now. Connected to everything but again, I know that this is also a skill. I wouldn’t say skill if I had a better word for it. Words are another aspect of my labor. I have to develop the words. I have to learn to flex the words. I have to learn to see the words in the feeling I get when I look at the white cotton stitched into the blue of the sky, and I have to put my words on my experience of water, and I have to put the words beneath my fingers as they brush the piano, and I have to put my words inside the mysteries of life, and then, take all of my words out and arrange them up.
But as I have been flexing my words and the stories they were after, I came to realize I was flexing my life. Or more exactly, it struck me that shaping language is the mini-representation of shaping what you are.  There is a certain kind of knowledge in me now.  This knowledge is in you too. The knowledge is that the physicality is easily reshapeable.  The change is initialized in you. But this physical change, if it’s rapid,  may not last. I had to work for a long long on time on how to be with myself, provide basic things for myself, comfort myself.  I am still working on it the moment I wake up.  But this feeling that I have to constantly provide for myself, that I have to constantly do something, feel something, so that I see a positive dynamic, doesn’t feel like freedom. I have minimized other people’s control and now mostly do what I like and when I like it.  However, I recruited myself into working on myself, all of the time, trying to find magical doors into self-improvement. If constant self-improvement is not my thing, what is my thing and what am I?

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As I am peeling the stories off myself, and it’s not just one, I come to an assumption that maybe what I am is easy love. The light kind of love. The kind of love into which you soften when nothing else works – when you are tired, when you are maybe about to die. The kind of life that is surrender and that’s that.
My stories are a ton of metaphors. My stories are heavy, incredulous, incredible, judgemental, shamed, guilt-ridden, stories. My stories are numerous, and every time I peel off yet another story, I thank it, just so, I say thank you. I know that the point of the story is not in the words that story uses or the plot line it creates. The meaning of the story is in the purpose of the story. The purpose of the story is to give itself out and to give. I tell myself a story that I am judgmental when I criticize myself. Criticism is judgment. Of course it gets out of proportion. It’s a diet of criticism not a light snack now and then.  If criticism is present, let’s look past all the nicknames the critic has some up with, and look into a deeper story : I am judgmental.
Is it a true story? Nobody can know for sure, no way. I used to have a maths teacher who loved to make us prove countless theorems so that we knew things were true for f****** sure, and I don’t need to prove the sufficiency of my resentment toward that practice.  But now, after years and many dreams featuring that teacher, I have come to see the metaphor I’ve acquired back then. What that teacher taught me was:

Question the heck out of your assumptions!

Question everything.

Especially your stories about yourself.

About your life.

About your possibilities.

Question! Question! Question!

So after questioning the truth of the story that I am judgmental, I always see that it’s fiction looking real and twice as natural.
The next step is to question the purpose of the story. My being judgmental. What is the positive intention? If I am judgmental, what does being judgmental give me? If I rip myself up, then I get compassion. It’s an extreme way to go about compassion. Perhaps, there are less hurtful, better ways to go about feeling compassion – from others or yourself. In my case, I lived for many years in a judgmental community. So, by judging myself, I came to “agree” with the community. Now, there’s camaraderie. But aren’t there better, less hurtful ways to go about camaraderie? There have to be.
Think, feel, be intuition.
Question the heck out of it all.