Door to the Past and Future

It seems that lately (I guess since adulthood sneaked in) I have been thinking more and more about what has been happening to my life during a passing year, and wished for things for the new year to come. I am not sure if I picked up this habbit from Hollywood movies or it just happened, but in a way I like this retrospective analysis of how I spend my last 365 days. Although New Years Eve does no longer represent that night when parents allow you to sip some champaigne, and although it is a night which I do not particulary care for, New Years Eve still tends to represent an important night... it's a door to the past and a door to the future.

Looking back, 2011 was an overwhelming and tumultuous year. It took me about half of it to find inner peace, start smiling and appreciate people for being in my life, rain or shine. In 2011, I managed to check with the speed of light my wish list for the year, leaving me wondering what I still wish for, for the rest of the year :) In 2011, I fell out of love and fell in once again; I burned bridges, worked asiduously at maintaining older ones and managed to build some new top of notch structures too. In 2011, I challenged myself again and ripped a comfort bandage off myself; I gained new insights which reminded me that the height of your success is not measured in the cloths you wear, the parties you attend or your lover's job title. I travelled, jumped off of airplanes, attended concerts and plays, I tracked in the mountains, swam in the Mediteranean sea, I planted a tree, I learned how to drive, I lost someone very dear to me, I cried, I smiled, I hesitated, I took matters in my own hands, I let go and I embraced.
I have conflicting thoughts and feelings about this 2011, which I guess makes it a round and complete good year.

Looking forward to 2012, it appears in front of me as a vaste space and time. I am sure it will go by in a blink of an eye but right now it gives me that shivers just like when looking at a field covered with fresh white snow... intact, full of possibilities and yet mysterious enough so to inspire curiosity and a touch of timid fear.

I do not belive in New Year resolutions, but more in New Year dreams and hopes. I feel that 2012 is "the year of me", therefore I dream of inner peace and self re-discovery. I hope for a calm and love filled year. I dream of finding the strenghts to come to terms with my roots (trunk, branches, leaves, well the entire tree!!). I hope to tame the little grinch inside of me so to appreciate the great people in my life. I dream of solid sails so no wind can trip my plans and projects. I hope to find adventure in little things; I dream adventure finds me. I dream of hope and I hope to dream...

Wish you a/an ............. and ............. 2012! (please fill in the blanks)
Miruna :o)

Slightly Vegetarian

A: Mom, I decided I will no longer eat meat...
B: [silence] What do you mean, darling?
A: I mean, I am making a conscious decision to no longer eat meat.
B: Are you sick?
A: No, I am not! I simply decided that I will no longer eat any meat except fish and seafood.
B: OK, darling, if this is what you want.
A: Thank you for understanding.
B: You know I love you, darling.
Soooo how about a nice roasted chicken leg with baked potatoes?
A: Mooooom, I am no longer eating chicken!
B: But what does chicken have to do with anything??

When I broke the news to my parents about me becoming "slightly" vegetarian, it was almost like telling them that I was pregnant. They were not very sure how to put one and two together; they did not see that coming at all and it just hit them right smack in the core of their perception about me. Just to explain myself: as a child and even when growing up, if there was no meat in my plate I would not eat. In kindergarten I was making deals over lunch and trading with other kids sauce, polenta and bones in exchange for juicy meat. One year, over Easter, my mom asked me if I do not feel sorry for the poor lamb who had to die for me to feed. I looked at her in surprise and said with an innocent face "How about my poor tummy, then?".

I used to like meat... A LOT! And I still have good memories about eating it :) It just seems that I outgrew this moment, my meaty moment, I mean.
There are times when my mouth waters at the thought of a nicely roasted and crunchy chicken leg, or a soft piece of fresh pork chop; I sometimes miss cold cuts (especially salami slices) and sausages and the list could go on, as apparently humankind is really great at expressing some of its creativity by preparing meat dishes. But then when I feel tempted and stick a mouth full of meat, I chew this weird texture which resembles to a piece of rubber or a wet towel, and I realize it's all brain leftovers... culinary memories which no longer transfer into reality.

It's amazing how well we can adapt to decisions that we take, no matter how preposterous they might seem considering recent or forgotten self history. And what is even more amazing is the fact that based on a prior positive experience we have the tendency to try and go back to the initial state; test if we are still convinced of what we decided, or if, for comfort's sake, we could just go back to where we were in the first place. It would all be much more easy, wouldn't it?

But then reality rushes back into your mouth and you realize there is no turning back. Some decisions are there to stay and no matter how tempting the BBQ might smell, you know that when the meal is served you will be feeding off of the veggie plate, knowing you are managing 3 things: stick to your decisions, stay true to your current self and piss some people off.

Eggplant, anyone? :o)

Baby, take off your coat...

I was talking to one of my friends a few weeks ago about life and random happenings, a very pleasant conversation between two people who have recently started to re-discover themselves and build something in the lines of a friendship. Out of this conversation, there is something that stuck to me like glue, and no matter how many showers passed over my skin, I cannot seem to shake it off. Among others we also talked about freedom. Such an overstated and overused word, this "freedom", this concept which is making people, communities and entire nations shake to their core!

Nonetheless, we took a different approach and discussed about personal freedom, in a context where the individual lives in a time and space where they are from a legal, social and political point of view respected and treated equal as all the rest (give or take...).

How free are we? Are we born free? Do we live our lives freely? Do we die free? I guess the starting point of my search, which hoovers above my head, is my challenge to find a definition for "freedom"? What is "personal freedom" for me?

Freedom could be the feeling that there are no strings attached, there are no links, there is nothing that belongs to me and there is nothing to which I belong to? If this is the definition then I was never free, I will never be free, and even after death I will keep being not free; if I were to believe in reincarnation, the situation would still not change at all. Even before my conception I was part of a part which was owned by someone, actually by two someones. Once conceived, I continue to belong. Once out of my mom's womb a changed happened: not only that I was linked to others but others were linked to me and later on I started to create my own links and from owned I became owner. Does owning tie you down? Should we discuss macro or micro-owning? Do I own my mobile phone or does my mobile phone own me? That's a loonish thought, ain't it?

Well, but then freedom could just be the option of detaching yourself from all society rules, living day by day as you feel you should, without complying to what others tell you you should do and how you should act; freeing yourself from what others tell you you should be, to what you should react, aspire and dream. Could we as social beings be able to free ourselves of the strings attached by the "herd" effect? I know of people who choose, for different reasons, to part themselves with society and man, and live in their own interior bubble, cut themselves from the main cord and live in silence and harmony with themselves. I personally tend to view this as a slight deviation; it's something imposed and somehow unnatural; it seems a constraint which at some levels might be bordering with constraining your freedom.

Crazy thought, but maybe freedom, personal freedom might just be the state of being naked in front of others, just as you are in front of the mirror, without trying to cover yourself and being totally comfortable with yourself. Personal freedom might be to act as you feel and think is right, based on an inner set of values. Freedom might just be to wake up when you feel is right, say "I love" you when your heart is full, give when you feel you can part with things, despise and cry when you feel your cup is full. Maybe personal freedom is allowing you to be you and being at peace with whatever you discover.

We live in a world of illusions, smoke and mirrors; not all that we see and feel is real and not all that is absent is unreal. Personal freedom might just be a choice, a voice, a cry for yourself and for others; a time when you quit the magic show and you step aside from the crowds to show them your naked bum. Being naked might just give you the escape you might need, freeing yourself from the bounds, preconceptions, decisions, perceptions and demands of others and of yourself. Personal freedom might just be a see-through mirror, an X-ray machine reflecting you unaltered to yourself and to the world; the comfortable feeling of just being, regardless of how uneven your ears look, how low you breasts hang or how hairy your chest is...

I wake up each morning confident I will wear less clothes today, free of personal inhibitions and comfortable with public stares.
Wish you all a butt naked future!
Miruna :o)

Snoozing Reality

You keep waiting for the alarm to go off, but then you realize you are not fast asleep, you are just day dreaming. Sometimes we dream at night, sometimes we dream during the day, but sometimes we just dream regardless of the time and place, which makes it an extraordinary activity.

The mere fact that we can create this parallel reality, where we are the puppeteers deciding upon the next steps and shaping facts, makes me wonder about one's potential and power. I wonder what would happen if, any of us, had the power to shape their reality according to their dreams, to alter reality in such away it would fit their every fantasy and desire. Would we become malefic individuals with weird and experimental desires? Or would we balance ourselves and try to achieve greatness? hmmm... I continue wondering...

If I had absolute power over my reality, what would I change and what would I keep? Would I drive myself mad in trying to achieve perfection, happiness and serenity? Or would I hack into other people's reality and try to "correct" their unsuspected faults of destiny? To which extent would I like to have total control of my reality? Would I, as an individual, be able to live without small or great "SURPRIZE!!"? Would I, with time, be able to appreciate my power of control, if nothing can touch me, nothing can interrupt me from achieving my perfect dream? Would I get tired of perfection? Were we created so to search imperfection in perfection just to re-assure ourselves of the beauty we are entitled to experiment? Would this still be called dreaming or would it be called directing?

I love day dreaming; I love night dreaming, but what I love the most is always dreaming. Creating several parallel realities, with interferences between frames, with time holes and interchanging actors. Sometimes I like them so much I keep snoozing my return to the real world, to this place where I put into practice my learning's out of my experiments; this world where I can test in actual format things which were experimented before but in a lab setting.

Please don't get me wrong, I am not avidly supporting reality alienation! I am simply taking about parallel realities, one of which, at least in theory, should resemble to yours and several others which might resemble to nothing at all.
It's recomforting to have a place where if anything, you can just erase and re-write, where you can try and re-try and never actually fail, where you can be as perfect or as imperfect as you'd like and never have to give any explanation for it.

So, do you suffer from chronic reality snoozing? Are you a parallel world citizen? Hmmm... aren't we all to some extent?

Sleep light and don't let reality bite....
Miruna :o)

Boy meets girl, girl likes boy, boy likes girl...

This I like you, you like me, and then KABOOM! smack! We are in loved, seems to be the easiest most wonderful story in the world! It all seems so simple when they show it on TV, when you read it in a book or when a friend is telling you about it. Pinkishly pink and perfect, all ribbons around and YEY they lived happily ever after. Now you try!...

OK, I try aaaand, well, failure... Then I try again... aaaahhh almost worked, but ended in a small disaster.... But mama raise no coward! So I try again, confident in the power of my learning's... and well huge failure AGAIN! I stop. Think. Replay. Forward and think again... damn, it all went down hill! Tripped and fell right onto my face; my head got stuck in the ground just like an ostrich.

I always get puzzled on how other people do it; they make it seem so simple: boy meets girl, girl likes boy, boy likes girl. Happy end of the story! Easy!

I take notes, figure my steps, talk to some "experts", get ready, hear the little voice saying "Ready, Set, GO!" and I freakin' GOOOOO!!! I go with everything in my power, with all my enthusiasm, with all my heart and soul, I smile and embrace the feeling of liking, of adoring, of discovering someone new! I get excited, I get nervous, unsure, delighted, awoken and all those good and weird feelings that get you hipped and high as no mushroom in the world can! I grow wings in the soles of my feet, and I start flying. I feel the wind in my hair, I can only hear one voice, I can only see one pair of eyes, I taste only his lips, I smell only his skin. I am possessed, I am taken! I am freakin' in loved!

Nice feeling, warm feeling, great feeling, cosy feeling. Then I open one eye... Then I open two... I say hello, he says maybe, I say I like you, he says I might, I say let's walk together for a while, he says I need space, I say let's smile together, he says I don't know, I say let's experiment, he says no sparks, I say hello, his silent, I am silent, he is silence, I am an ostrich, he is no more. Disaster of my soul. Reverse KABOOM!!

I like you, you like me, but the equation never ends there, or at least not for me. I have always sucked at Math, was not particularly good at Natural Sciences either, but I always excelled at Sports... so, there I go again and again and again: Ready.... Set... GOOOO!!! Ohh there must be an ostrich for me though!

Miruna :o)

Home Is...

When I first thought about leaving home, it was never in the lines that I, a few years later, ended up doing it. Do not get me wrong, "home" for me, in its most generous terms, is connected to a warm fuzzy feeling of belonging, comfort, love and happiness. Nonetheless, as with every bird, my wings were growing and I wanted to test my powers, see beyond the edge of the nest and wanted to fly, more than anything else. I never imagined that once out of the nest, I will have to settle for temporary nests, I will have to train hard for my wings to fly long distances and discipline myself to always keep the way back present in my head.

I am not sure if this speaks to everyone, but for the ones who left home, went places, stayed away for long periods of time and maybe came back, I believe, YOU, you are the ones who truly get me.

When we speak about "home", we speak about this memory in our heads, which is still vivid but somehow hazy. When we try dealing with the details we realize "home" is here, "home" is there, oh no "home" is actually, quite frankly, everywhere! We are no longer restricted by geography, it's all in a feeling which we get or not; "home" can be a kitchen table in Sibiu, a bunkbed in Urumqi, a coffee mug in San Jose, the smell of freshly washed linens in Guelph, the backyard in Bujumbura or the cracking of an open door in San Pedro de Atacama. In a way you feel liberated, unrooted but powerful, always at home, but constantly not there, unrestricted and flexible. A house owner with rooms in all four corners of the world.

Sometimes it gets confusing, especially when you try to explain yourself to others, your feeling of not belonging by belonging. We do belong, we do possess and are possessed, but the terms are much more relative than for others. For us belonging to this place equals belonging to another place. We belong and we don't. We are temporary permanent residents of a community. We are the non present presence in someone's home and life. We are there but we are not and our home seems to always be somewhere else than where it should be. We are constant visitors in our home, and home away from home.

Home is where I lay at night and dream of dreams. Home is where I find a smile and a warm embrace. Home is where my backpack is. Home is where I am accepted and loved. Home is where my keys know the lock. Home just is... home is.

The Elephant on a Feeble Table

A few nights ago, I was talking to one of my good friends. You know, just blabbing away, as usual, about life, love and everything in between. Priorities, plans and goals sneaked in there somehow, and I managed to set on the table my huge elephant. Big plans, small table; do not even get me started on how feeble the table is... and I suddenly realized, after a very long time that what I needed to do was to cut down the elephant in smaller pieces, re-arranged them and puzzle them together step by step.

It's been on my mind for a long time but somehow I did not managed until the other night to figure out why I was dragging my feet and not managing to really get started.

Therefore, I began to do some butchering in my head and came up with a plan. THE plan! Are you still with me? Good ;))

The main goal is to write, write and write. The related goal is to be read. I will write as long as I can get my brain to burp something; you might not like it, but I bet you'll visit often to see if I am finally getting better at it, or I am simply hopeless.

Because for the time being I am no longer travelling like a mad shoe, you are stuck with thoughts from something that people tell me is a regular life.

Good! Now that I am out and about walking the elephant, may you enjoy the circus! C y'a round :o)

Disclaimer for animal lovers: I do not actually have an elephant in my possession, and even if I had, I would never find myself tempted to cut it in small pieces.