Cities’ Scape >< Nature’s Escape

I have come to realize that, when I travel, I don’t enjoy cities that much anymore. They give me a sense of unresolvable sadness. They pop up the question “now what?” more and more often. Restore faith in humanity, now. No matter where I have found myself on this planet, so far and often times, cities have given me a sense of absurd repetition. Different coordinates, different geopolitical space, same issue: humans are here. Take different little corners of cities all around the globe and you can loose yourself into the same landscape, over and over again. Concrete, cars, pharmacies, dust, artificial garbage that doesn’t get absorbed by the soil but just stay there. Insane noise. Dust. Rectangular geometry that stopped cutting your eyesight just because you got used to seeing it ever since you were so little. Get closer and the macro universe offers you so little. Most probably just a same cold, repetitive texture, with no depth.

Now, nature on the other hand, has this sense of delightful repetition combined with its God driven uniqueness. Different coordinates, different geopolitical space – who gives a crap in the natural world? Same issue, still: humans are around, near, somewhere. Take different corners of nature all around the globe and you get an infinity of diverse paradises. Sand – red, yellow, black, white; soil – red, yellow, black, white; sky – red, yellow, black, white, blue, purple; trees – red, yellow, brown, green, turquoise. Still, never-mind the simplicity of such a basic color spectrum. Talk about shapes.

Rounded geometry that caresses your eyesight and gets you to blend into the ambient just like a little baby does into his mother’s womb, without even making sense of it. Get closer and the macro universe offers you the world. A whole and holly new one. With uniqueness and depth, just following the sacred patterns and reminding you of sequences you don’t even know that are embedded in you.

Maybe that is why the city landscape gets to be so repugnant, once you are in tune with the real world out there. Yeah, so, restore faith in humanity now. Please.

Maya Says

I am trying to write down what Maya does or says, as I notice there are some really surprising and cute things going on, that I might tell very few people about. And that in time would vanish, dusted by other moments – that become memories, and that then get dusted as well.

Ubud, Bali, Indonesia, December 2019

We were in one of the Indomarets, a local groceries store chain, where we used to spend our noon little walk, just to get an ice-cream (Maya strawberry, me durian flavor) or some fresh jackfruit.

Sometimes I was buying her some little animal stickers, just because we used to love sticking them in all sorts of places or parts of our bodies. And this time, looking for some new bits of plastic to play with, Maya noticed the little metal car models, for a change. She noticed one, and then the few ones underneath. I suggested her to pick one of her choice. I do that. I show her various options and then she picks. I think maybe this would help her develop her own style and taste, make her own decisions.

Just that, this time, Maya did not make up her mind on only one car. She really wanted two. One turquoise and yellow, that I was really fancying and this is why I specifically showed it to her, in the first place. And the other one dull and orange, with two black horizontal lines – such a classic car.

I asked her to make up her mind; and to make a choice. And she told me, after some dancing going on, on one foot and then the other, that she has made her choice. She wants them both. The turquoise and the orange. Not one, but two.

In my mind, I panicked a little bit. It didn’t show, though. But I felt blocked. And paralyzed. All sorts of questions popped up. What if I set up a precedent? How can I not impose my rules upon her? My adult control is out of order, and she is out of control. A series of affirmations and questions that, in that very second, summed up in my mind as the beginning of the end. What end? The end of my authority and power as a parent.

And then, I just felt a tiny bit of space in that mind. I doubted it, and then I forced it, and then it just became natural. That space was telling me to let it be. To go with it. To trust her. That space was educated. Perhaps my reads, perhaps Natural Child or Continuum Concept, perhaps the Circle of Safety philosophy. Hack knows. It was and is a space that was educated and that I work so very hard on maintaining, every single day. When I don’t mess up, of course. Just because I didn’t grow up with it. My subconscious mind is not educated with these freedom values for the child.

So here we were, at the cashier, still a little bit tense, both of us. Maya because she was still waiting for it to be for real, bought and all. Me because such a strong part of my brain was still fighting this decision. I somehow was not believing I was doing this. And didn’t get why.

Got out of Indomaret and opened the boxes for both cars, threw them to the garbage in front. And passed Maya the little metal wheeled toys. That same second, very serene, she passed me the turquoise car and said “mama”. She took the orange one to her chest and said “Maya”. I was just perplex. I asked her, Maya, what are you saying? Is this car mine? She said yes. And is the orange one yours? And she said yes, and started playing. She said “haide”, which is “common, play”, us already having the two little cars rolling, in parallel.

Yes, we are often times just the two of us around. In our travels. With her father also working. With no grandma or constant nanny figure or toddler friends around. And yes, I was perplex. This is Maya. She knows what she wants. And she wants such beautiful things. To happen. Not to have, but to happen.

Later that day, Maya agreed to give the turquoise car to Dion, her Indonesian 3 years old playmate. She has given it much easier than I did. The child in me needs to learn sharing and caring. So, each day, I need to learn and to work on it. Every single day. Thank God. Thank Maya.

S-Pace

What’s up with space?

Even the space key is so big, on the keyboard. Why is that?
To find it easily.

Do you easily find space between your words?
Do you easily feel the space between your syllables?
Do you easily feel the space between your letters?

Do you feel the space between your breath in
And your breath out?

Do you feel the space between sleeping
And being awake?

Do you comprehend the space between dreaming
And the awaken state?

What’s up with space?
It is so big, on the keyboard.
Yet so small,
and all over the place.

Did you know that most of what there is
Is in this “space” –
And not in what we think is “out of space”?

How about the space between
Atoms and molecules?
Yes, I’m talking about that.

Do you offer yourself space
To feel that?

Do you comprehend the space between your body cells?
Do you easily feel the space between your neurons?
Do you easily feel the space between your time?
Do you easily feel this?
Space.

S p a c e .

S p a c e.

S

p

a

c

e.

|______________|

Ponder and Wander

08-06-2018

These days we just got back home from our very first travel experience together with our baby girl („very first” longer travel experience, by plane and by a plan, I mean – she did sleep in a tent or a hut before). Fifteen days, 2 flights, 2 adults, one 4 months old baby. 15 places visited (some of them even for a short 20 minutes walk, at Cinque Terre National Park). 6 places at the seaside, 1 trek in the mountains, 1 metropolis. Most used means of transportation: train. Others: foot, car, metro, plane. No stroller. Region visited: Italy, Tuscany (Bologna, Florence, Pisa, Cinque Terre, Apuan Alps) and then Rome.

*

The illustration was drawn on June the 8th, on Maya’s 4 months celebration day. After something like a 6 kilometers walk in and out of a small Italian village, a severe rain grew out of the crazy-loaded clouds. On a tiny street with all 3 of us tucked in a corner, we received as a gift a black umbrella. We were laughing like crazy because of the whole extreme, watery situation. The skies were pouring. The umbrella had IKEA family written on it. Someone could have filmed an ad then and there. I drew the umbrella red. Looks nicer in red. (And you can’t tell the brand this way. Except if you actually tell it. Ha. Ha.) We walked like an octopus, like a composed being, under that umbrella. Had a hot shower when we got indoors. Our baby didn’t need one, she was perfectly dry. The hold-the-baby-hold-the-umbrella-and-walk-in-tandem machine had worked.

*

Oh, I have seen an octopus underwater. A real, tiny one. A living octopus, underwater, under me. On this trip. While traveling with a tiny human.

So then, what do you ponder? Wander!

As I am

IMG_20180318_220033_879.jpgExactly one year ago I was heading to Asia. This has been my first day of the voyage that has changed life forever. 29th of March. Milan. Then Bangkok. Then Manila. Then Puerto Princesa. Then Tigman. Then Tigman. Then Tigman. Then Il Nido. Then Puerto Princesa. Then Manila. Then Saigon. Then Vung Tau. Then Mekong Delta. Then Saigon. Then Kuala Lumpur. Then Tehran. Then Baku. Then Istanbul. Then Bucharest. Then home. Then Barcelona. Then pregnancy test. This has been my first day of the voyage that has changed life forever. I am getting ready to rest next to my daughter and my beloved partner. This has been my first day of the voyage that has changed life forever.

Today I bumped on the streets into a very dear person met last autumn. He lives isolated, at one hour or so away from this town. He has built a small house with his bare hands there. He has the most beautiful natural landscape in his backyard and doesn’t come to town very often. But I bumped into him. Him into me, to be more accurate. He was on the bike. My daughter wraped on me. He bumped into us, to be more accurate. I invited him over to dinner. He just left. One hour ago, to be more accurate.

He asked me to have a look over the drawings I have told him about – „from my trip to Thailand or whatever”. Found them. Browsed them. Laughed. All of us. Such a good thing to happen. I almost forgot that this has been my first day of the voyage that has changed life forever. Forever and ever, to be more accurate.

This post is to Maya.

„An Illustrated Travel Journal” is also to be dedicated to her.

As I am.

As i a,

Thank you!

See you around.

A round.

Haha.

Get it?

Intensitate

Intensitate.

Acum toate sunt intense.

Intens in toate.

Intensitate.

Asta voi simți.

Asta voi fi, asta voi lăsa să fiu.

Intensitate.

Ce luni frumoase, ce carusel.

Ce an surpriză, ce minunății de aventuri,

Ce minunăție de existență.

Ce de mulțumire.

Ce de emoție.

Fără definiri și clișee.

Ce greu e să percepi și să exiști

Fără ele.

Sunt logodnică.

Sunt logodnică.

Am un inel pe deget care spune că mă voi că-să-to-ri cu cineva.

Eu. Cu cineva. Căsători.

Am spus da. Sunt logodnică.

Sunt însărcinată.

Sunt însărcinată.

Am o fetiță în pântec care acum, când scriu, se mișcă.

Care simte tot ce simt.

Care e cu mine tot timpul.

Am o fetiță în pântec care spune că voi fi mamă.

Că sunt mamă în devenire.

Eu. Mamă. În curând.

Dincolo de roluri și clișee, eu sunt.

Eu împart. Împart existența cu încă două suflete.

Îndeaproape. 3, cu tot cu Frido. Îngerul de cățel.

Eu am tot fost. Eu.

M-am protejat.

M-am iubit.

M-am sabotat.

M-am urât.

M-am schingiuit.

M-am ascuns.

M-am neglijat.

M-am strâns în brațe.

M-am iertat.

M-am iertat.

M-am iertat.

M-am iubit.

M-am sabotat.

M-am pierdut iarăși.

Am înnebunit de ego.

Am înnebunit de ciudă

Fiindcă am înnebunit de ego.

M-am iertat.

M-am iertat.

M-am iertat.

El.

Mă vede.

Mă vede.

Vede în mine iubirea

Vede în mine lumina

Vede în mine puterea

Vede în mine sensibilitatea

Vede în mine feminitatea

Vede în mine lascivitatea

Vede în mine vioiciunea

Vede în mine vulnerabilitatea.

Mă vede.

Cât de frumos

Și de rar.

Cât de frumos

Îmi spuneam în gând zilele trecute că

I-aș spune, sub forma unei declarații de iubire,

Dacă Dumnezeu nu ar exista, l-aș inventa doar cât să îi sărut picioarele

Fiindcă îl am pe el în viața mea.

Iar în momentele în care lumina  nu e aprinsă,

În momentele în care face feste becul din beciul minții

Cu flash-uri repetitive și psihoze abuzive,

Îl las să treacă.

Pâlpâieli obosite în întuneric

Care și înnebunesc că nu mă întorc în tenebre.

Păi ce să caut eu acolo, când am văzut ce frumos e la

Frumosul etaj nou, nouă?

Toate universurile paralele sunt pe Planeta Pământ.

Doamne, cel care ești, îți sărut picioarele pentru cel în care

Eu. Exist. Acum.

 

Cât durează toamna

Am văzut ieri un arțar impresionant. 

Era foarte înalt. 

Frunzele se jucau în cerneluri galbene, oranj şi sângerii. 

De sus-sus, am ochit începutul dansului unei frunze galbene. 

Se unduia ştergând aerul doar cu aceeaşi parte, zbâțâită scurt, ca un fund obraznic, dar nu îndeajuns de tare cât să se dea peste cap. Era calmă în tot dansul ăsta al ei, poetic calculat. Cred că a făcut trei – patru secunde până jos. 

Oare câte secunde lipite durează chelirea arțarului? 

Mai sunt dansuri la unison, împerecheate, rostogolite, înfuriate de-un vânt diagonal. 

Aş îndrăzni să estimez o medie de 2 secunde per frunză.

Aş îndrăzni să estimez un total de cinci mii şase sute – şase mii de frunze în arțarul ăla. 

Facem o medie. 

5800 × 2 = 11600 secunde

11600 : 60 = 193,(3) minute

193,(3) : 60 = 3,(2) ore
Cam atât durează toamna.

Trei. 

Ore,

Luni,

Dansuri,

Minuni.

Singing Second

I have always believed that there are two types of dogs:

Dogs that sing and dogs that don’t.

I have come to believe that my dog is part of the second category.

He’s almost 3 years old. Hasn’t sang once, ever.

He’s a non-singer.

He’s cute and all. But that’s it.

I have come to believe that my theory is void.

 

I was on a restaurant’s terrace. Medieval town, old church just next to us. We were serving a good, fancy meal, after 3 days of nature. One second (a sharp one, most probably) the church bell started a solid loud sound across all surrounding air. That was all that one could hear.

Frido shifted his head to face the church, with a very short but well-decided move. His eyes were wide open and looked quite surprised. He was staring in amazement. The next second he lifted his little face up and closed his eyes. That lasted I think a couple of seconds more. I was asking arround and in my head what is going on. But the next second everything was as clear as the sound of a church organ. It was the Singing Second.

He switched to that little whistling look, twisting his dog lips and just
s   i   n   g   i   n   g.

 

He sang for 3-4 very long and beautiful seconds.

And I almost started crying.

 

***
There’s no such thing as a non-singer dog. There’s just the magical Singing Second. When a non-singer dog becomes a singer dog. And only he knows what would make his soul vibrate.

 

20170817_100004-01-01-01-01Always be your dog’s believer.

Space-Time Notes:
This story has happened in Sighisoara, after 3 days near the woods of Micfalău, Covasna, more than a month ago.
The illustration has been done near the woods of Ulmoasa, Maramureș, where Frido and I have stayed for 3 days, more than a week ago.
This story has been written and indexed after 3 days near the woods of Rimetea, Alba, for my 31st birthday.
Frido will be 3 in September.

 

 

Ce-ați văzut de-atâta ceață?

Știi când te uiți la cer și-l vezi așa, greu și înnăbușit, de atâta ceață sau nori indeciși?

Nu vezi lumina soarelui atunci. Doar bănui că e acolo (că doar de aia vezi orice). Dar nu o simți. Nu-i acolo. Nu ți se imprimă pe retină. Nu îți hrănește sufletul.

Așa e cu lumina. Când e ceață. Nu trece.

Așa e și cu ochii. Când te cufunzi în gânduri, când ești răpit, cam într-atât de tare încât trebuie să fii scuturat sau strigat de câteva ori ca să revii. Atunci. Atunci ai ochii încețoșați. Și lumea vede că nu-i acolo licărirea aia. Nu e lumina. Nu trece de pojghița gândurilor. Nu ești acolo.

Știi cum sunt oamenii ăia cărora nu le sclipesc ochii? Parcă nu le poți vedea licărirea. Au o ceață indecisă permanentă pe ochi. Eu știu cum sunt oamenii ăia. Am fost unul dintre ei, semipermanent. Și am și acum zile mai îngândurate în care sunt unul dintre ei.

Ceața aia care se pune pe ochi și care nu lasă lumina prezenței să se arate sunt tot gândurile. Dar sunt alea și mai toxice. Pentru că nu te acaparează până în punctul în care ești disfuncțional social. Nu. Poți avea reacții, automatisme, replici, grimase fabricate, chiar și zâmbete. Poți trăi așa. Ani de zile. Poți crede că ești perfect funcțional așa. Poți ajunge să uiți cum e să nu fii așa. Cum e să fii limpede. Să strălucești. Să-ți lași lumina să iasă în afară. Să ți se oglindească sufletul și să îi zâmbească vieții, cu gura mare, până la urechi. În vreme ce mintea tace. Căci nu-i nu-știu-ce utilă atunci.

Sunt buni norii grei, plini cu picuri de ploaie. E bună și ceața. Te-ajută să funcționezi. Ce frumos e totuși să vezi soarele. Să îl lași să te pătrundă. Să îl lași să te inspire. Să îl lași să te expire.

 

Omul sfințește locul

Când vede duhul din el.

E ca și cu văz-duhul.

Când ieși din dens văzduh,

Mai poți să vezi și-un duh.

Al tău. Și sfânt.

 

 

Scoate „t”-ul din „Minte”

Ce faci dacă scoți „t”-ul din „minți”?

Adică din „minte”?

Ieși din minți și ajungi la tine.

Atât de simplu.

Cât de bine e să ieși din minți.

Cel mai frumos lucru posibil.

Min(t)e.

Mine.

Gata.

L-am scos.

 

 

Mi-e dor să scriu

Mi-e dor de mine

Doamne, ce terapie, să-mi citesc gândurile șugubețe.

Să nu uit că sunt mai mult decât cred că aș fi în momentele de inerție-inepție

Să nu uit că m-am bucurat de primul fir de păr alb. Și de al doilea.

Să nu uit că sunt mult mai mult decât cred că aș fi.

Mai mult decât atât, acum sunt și mult mai mult decât se vede c-aș fi.

Asta trebuie să indexez. Să arhivez.

Acum sunt mai mult. Sau, acum sunt și altfel, mai mult.

Singurul motiv pentru care sunt așa este iubirea.

Iubirea, nu frica.

Iubirea, nu frica.

Nimic altceva.

Acum, după ce scutur „t”-ul din „minte”, fără să-l trec vreo secundă pe la „ego”, mai am de purtat curajul curat. În loc de șosete.

Oricum e cald.