Category Archives: Meditation

Like the raindrops…

 

 

Like the raindrops…

 

Raining. I’m sitting in an old, unfinished building on a cocoa bean bucket. Gazing the hill’s brand new  cloud-dresses. Listening the fall of the drops from the floor above. After a while I start to follow the dripping noise. My eye is on the drops. They disappear in a crack on the concrete. I need some time to realize what I see – that there might be connection between the existence of the crack and the landing drops. Rain by rain, day by day, year by year the constant presence of the soft, gentle drops creates something what the ‘here-and-now’ only would be able to reproduce by a strong, violent machine.

I remember how many times I wanted to deal with things and situations ‘here-and-now’. Quickly, immediately, impatiently. Instant life. Violent ‘hammer-drill’ me instead of the soft, patient, gentle raindrops.

One day the building might collapse. This could be something dramatic with tremendous noise, dust, smell of destruction. Or it could be a long, soft falling, melting into the minutes, silent faint into the nothingness.

We are always in a constant rush. What for? Where? Where the need, the urge is coming from to do something, be somewhere, be someone? Where the ‘I have no time’ was born? Where we lost the enjoyment of tasting the minutes, the ability to be open to the presence of this very moment? When did I gave the key of the bliss, the love of my life into others hand?

…or just leave the question. Does not matter anymore. As I am the one who can stop at any time this crazy, rushing chariot. I can leave it and walk instead. To feel the earth under my feet, to feel as the mud is squeezed through between my toes, the velvety touch of the moss-dressed stones. I can uncover the invisible bug-life, witnessing the perfectly sketched map of their dreams. I can be drunk from the blossoming fragrances. With every step. In every second. Slowly, softly, gently. Like the raindrops.

 


(A magyar valtozat ekezetek nelkul olvashato.)


 

Mint az esocseppek…

 

Esik. Egy oreg, befejezetlen betonepulet ad menedeket. Ulok egy kakaobab-gyujto vodron. Bamulom a felhobe fulo hegyeket. Hallgatom, ahogy a felsobb emeleten felgyulemlett viz a kozelemben pattan a betonra. Egy ido utan elkezdem kovetni a zajt. Nezem a cseppeket. A cseppek egyenesen egy repedesben landolnak. Ido kell, mig konstatalom, a cseppek es a padlon huzodo repedes kozt osszefugges lehet. Esore eso, napra nap, evre ev a puha, finom cseppek kitarto munkaja olyat hoz letre, amit az ‘itt-es-most’ csak eros, eroszakos gepekkel tudna reprodukalni.

Hanyszor akartam ‘itt-es-most’ elintezni dolgokat, megvaltozatani helyzeteket! Gyorsan, azonnal, turelmetlenul. Instant elet. Eroszakos ‘utvefuro-en’ a finom, turelmes, puha esocsepp helyett.

Az epulet majd osszedol egy nap. Ez lehet dramai omlas, robaj, por, pusztitas-szag. Vagy lehet hosszu, lagy hullas, percekbe olvadas, csendes nemletbe ajulas.

Mire fel a rohanas? Honnan a surgetes? A ‘nem erek ra’? Hova lett a percek izlelgetese, a pillanat ajandeka ovatos bontogatasanak kepessege? Mikor adtam ki a kezembol az eletem elvezetenek, szeretetenek kulcsat?

Mindegy is. A jo, hogy barmikor megallithatom ezt az orulten rohano szekeret. Kiszallhatok, es folytathatom gyalog az utam. Erezve talpam alatt a foldet, a labujjaim kozt utat toro sarat, a ko mohakabatjanak barsonyat. Szemugyre vehetem a legaprobb bogar-eletet, a lathatatlan vonalak pontosan bogozott terkepet. Belebodulhatok a szirmukat bontogato illatokba. Lepesrol lepesre. Percrol percre. Lassan, puhan, finoman. Mint az esocseppek.

 

Waiting for my soul

 

Waiting for my soul

Fourteen years ago, when I started my life in London I was working in cafes.  I felt desperately trapped because I felt I can do more and I waste my life with mindless coffee making.

Later I became a yoga teacher. I count myself the luckiest person as I was teaching classes in amazing gyms and in the best yoga studio in London after five years of my graduation. This was (is) the job made me satisfied. I loved it. When I was teaching I felt free, full of life. I had no pain, no problem any more even I had to hold my broken pieces together before the class. I dissolved in the teaching. …and gradually the ‘ME’ became equal to my ‘PROFESSION’. My life was about nothing else but my job. After the class I went home and… the ‘I’ never arrived into the flat. When I was not teaching I had no points to relate to anymore. I was empty. I was no one. The ‘I’ disappeared.

The distance between my public and private persona became so enormous I felt I cheat on people who thinks I always the same – strong, balanced, peaceful, calm – person who I am when I do teach. And I felt I will get crazy bouncing between these two worlds.

I decided to leave my loved job behind to find the ‘ME’ who is happy just because she exists. Who does not overdo to prove she worth the attention, love…, life. Who KNOWS in her every cells she is loved and she deserves the best company and she feels comfortable being in this company – herself. Who KNOWS, FEELS, LIVES the truth: that life is a magic.

Once I bumped into a short video. People in all age range had been asked about what do they want to change on themselves. Some of the adult wanted to loose some weight, some of them wanted to be taller/shorter, more black or more white. The children had been a bit puzzled. They did not really understand why should they change anything? After a short thinking they wished to have pointy ear like a fairy has, bigger teeth, like a shark. A sweet little chubby girl with red hair said – I do not want to change anything.

I was wondering, where is the turning point. When do we start to see certain parts of ourselves as impossible to love? When did we break the love agreement with ourselves first? When we abandoned ourselves, put the first masks on and crave for the company of others to prove we still worth to exist as we are?

I live in the jungle. I have a top bunkbed to sleep shaped by many people before me in a shared dorm. I have three food per day. I have some clothes fit into a suitcase. Serving food and coffee. I sit long hours next to the river. Gazing the water, the trees, the hills. Just gazing. I have no aim but finding the lost me. Being able to say YES to myself again. To believe I am enough. I am worthy. I do not have to DO to deserve.

Morning. Standing in the river. Inhaling the smell of the river. Feeling the numbing cold on my skin, the tamed strength of the current on my ankles. Watching the ecstatic dance of the moskitos above the surface. I am not more for this river than this piece of wood just bumped into my ankle. No more than the leaf was falling from this tree right now. I am no one. There is no me. No names. No positions. Not even clothes in a suitcase. Only surrender. Humbleness. Nothing. Everything.

The Indians said if you feel tired you might walked too fast. Better just to sit down and wait for your spirit to arrive. I’m standing in the river. Waiting. Waiting for my spirit to arrive.

 


(A magyar valtozat ekezetek nelkul olvashato.)


Lelekvaras

 

Tizennegy evvel ezelott, londoni eletem hajnalan kavezokban dolgoztam. Elkeseredetten ultem onnon csapdamban, mert erzetem, a kavekeszitesnel tobbre vagyok kepes, hogy csak vesztegetem ertekes eletem.

Kesobb joga tanarra lettem. Az legszerencsesebbek egyikenek tartom magam, hogy a masfel eves trening utan ot evvel mar London legnagyobb joga studiojaban tanithattam. Ez volt (es ma is az) az a munka, ami boldogga tett. Imadtam. Amikor tanitottam, szabadnak ereztem magam, elonek. Fajdalom, problema nem letezett tobbe ha tanitottam, meg ha apro darabjaimbol kellett is osszeraknom magam ora elott. Feloldodtam a tanitasban. … es fokozatosan az ‘EN’ egyet jelentett a ‘MUNKA’-val. Az eletem masrol sem szolt, mint a munkamrol. Hanem aztan elindultam haza, es… soha nem ertem haza. Amikor nem tanitottam, nem volt tobbe mihez kepest leteznem. Ures voltam. Senki. Az ‘EN’ eltunt.

A szakadek a nyilvanos es a magan enem kozott olyan vegtelenne tagult, hogy azt ereztem, csalok. Hogy becsapom azokat, akik azt hiszik, en mindig az vagyok, akit akkor latnak, amikor tanitok – egy eros, kiegyensulyozott, bekes, nyugodt letezo. Es lassan kezdett felorolni a ket vilag kozti koteltanc.

Szeretett munkam magam mogott hagyva elindultam megkeresni azt az ‘EN’-t, aki attol elegedett, hogy letezik. Aki nem nem akar kenyszeresen tobbet es tobbet tenni, csak hogy bizonysagot nyerjen, erdemes a figyelemre, a szeretetre… az eletre. Aki minden sejtjevel TUDJA, jar neki a szeretet, megredemli a legjobb tarsasagot, es jol erzi magat ebben a tarsasagban – onmagaeban. Aki TUDJA, ERZI, ELI az igazsagot: az elet csoda.

Egyszer egy rodid videora bukkantam. Mindefele eletkoru embereket kerdeztek, mit valtoztatnanak a kulsejukon. Nehany felnott le akart adni par kilot, volt aki magasabb/alacsonyabb szerett volna lenni, vagy sotetebb/vilagosabb. A gyerekek kicsit zavarban voltak. Nem igazan ertettek, miert kellene barmit megvaltoztatni. Vegul rovid toprengest kovetoen arra jutottak, hogy jo lenne egy hegyes ful, mint a tundereknek, vagy nagyobb fogak, mint a capanak. Egy pici, voros haju,  kerek lanyka gondor mosollyal kozolte, o jo ugy, ahogy van.

Azon toprengtem, hol lehet a fordulopont? Mikor kezdunk el ugy tekinteni egyes reszeinkre, amiket lehetetlenseg szeretni? Mikor ‘hagyjuk el’ magunkat eloszor? Mikor kerul fel az elso maszk, ami mogott ucsorogve remeljuk betoppanni azt a masikat, aki bebizonyitja nekunk, szerethetok vagyunk?

A dzsungelben elek. Egy hat fos halo egyik emeletes agyanak tetejen alszom, mit elottem ottalvok testei formaztak. Napi haromszor kapok enni. Van egy borondnyi ruham. Etelt es kavet szolgalok fel. Hosszu orakat ulok a folyo sziklain. Nezem a rohano vizet, a fakat, a hegyeket. Csak nezek. Minden egyeb cel nelkul, mint ratalalni az elveszett EN-re. Hogy kepes legyek IGEN-t mondani magamra. Hogy elhiggyem, eleg vagyok. Erdemes. Hogy nem kell folyton TENNEM, hogy kierdemeljem.

  Reggel van. Allok a folyoban. Belelegzem a folyo illatat. Erzem boromon a viz zsibbaszto  hideget, az aramlas szelid nogatasat a bokamon. Nezem a szunyogok orult tancat a viz felett. Nem vagyok tobb e folyonak, mint ez a faag, ami epp a bokamnak utkozott. Nem tobb, mint ez a level, ami idepottyant. Senki vagyok. Nincs EN. Nincs nev. Pozicio. Meg a ruhak a borondben sem leteznek. Csak megadas. Alazat. Semmi. Minden.

Az indianok azt mondjak, ha faradt vagy, lehet, tul gyorsan haladtal. Jobban teszed ha leulsz, es megvarod, mig megerkezik a lelked. Allok a folyoban. Varom a lelkem. Varom, hogy megerkezzen.

 

Where to find safety in an unsafe world?

– Where to find safety in an unsafe world? –

The only thing I love in the winter that it’s getting dark early so when I sit on the bus I can peak into others home. I love to watch what is happening in others ‘aquarium’. Every window is a new set. I imagine I live their life – I sit on their sofa, watching their TV, eating their dinner, wearing their clothes.

After I arrive into my own aquarium I know inside out. Into my home. Into the only place on this world I can be naked – in every sense. Into the place where without thinking I can reach my toothpaste. Where the rhythm of the dripping tap is a well-known music. Where I know the length of the time the toilet tank fills up. The screech of the front door. The noise of the hanging plastic decoration as the breeze runs through the kitchen. Where every little corner has the splash of color of me. Where I can lock the door, cocoon myself into my soft, furry blanket and I know I am safe.

I love to loose my hands in the warmth of someone special’s hands. I love the feeling I am safe with this person and when he hugs me I can be lost in this hug, knowing, does not matter what happens in the world around us, because I am safe.

I love to go to sleep with the knowledge there is a reason to wake up next morning because there is a job I love, people are waiting for me, I can support my life – my home, my food, my clothing. I do not need to relay on anyone’s good will. I am free. I am safe.

Have a you ever lost you bank card, travel card, all documents in one go with a dead telephone in your pocket, no cash at all, in the middle of a big city? Standing on the street not knowing what to do, where to go? And no one trust you are not a beggar when you ask some money to go home. We all heard it millions of time from a stranger holding some penny in his/her hand, ‘Just one pound please, I need to pay the train’. Who would trust YOU? Who would trust you are definitely the one who need that pound… No one. All you will have the look makes you feel you are naked in a room of ully clothed people. And no one and nothing is there to put a blanket on your shoulder.

Yes, that day might come (might not)…

…when the very important person walks out of your life.

…when the safe home turns into a cage, a trap where the countless memories in every corner are like little soul-sucking creatures slowly taking your color.

…when you open a letter informing you the loss of your job.

Yes, that day might come when you are floating in the big, dark, cold nothing completely alone and there is no one and nothing to pull you back, to give you warmth.

BUT there IS one safe place in this universe. The place where you are right now.

Just close your eyes. Breath in. Feel the air filling up your body. You are alive. This is the blanket on your shoulder. You have the Earth underneath you – always there to hold you, support you.

Now imagine you are sitting in a bubble. A glowing, shiny bubble. This is the arm hugging you. Warm, caring, safe.

Now open your arms. Open them wide. Lift your face towards the sky and find your smile. Even the most cracked one. And say thank you for the air in your lung, the Earth underneath your bum, and for this shiny, beautiful light bubble around you in this very moment. This is the only thing you have – nothing else. And you are the only one who can bring safety and caring into your life. No one and nothing can give it to you from outside of you.

So as long as you are here, alive, celebrate yourself. Celebrate this moment. And this one. And this. Celebrate your life in this very moment.

 


(A magyar valtozat ekezetek nelkul olvashato.)


– Hol a biztos pont egy bizonytalan vilagban? –

 

Az egyetlen dolog, amit szeretek a telben, hogy koran sotetedik, es a buszon ulve bekukucskalhatok masok eletebe. Szeretem figyelni, masok hogyan elik ‘akvarium – eletuket’.  Minden ablak uj izgalom, meglepetes. Elkepzelem, hogy a bent elok eletet elem – en ulok a kanapejukon, nezem a TV-juket, eszem a vacsorajukat, es viselem az elnyutt treningnacit.

Aztan hazaerkezem az en kis akvariumomba, aminek minden szegletet ismerem. Az en otthonomba. Az egyetlen helyre, ahol lemeztelenedhetek – minden tekintetben. A helyre, ahol gondolkodas nelkul nyulok a fogkremert. Ahol ismeros zene a csap csepegesenek ritmusa. Tudom mennyi ido alatt tolt ujra a WC tartaly. Tudom az ajto nyikorgasat. A csillogo terelvalaszto fuggony csillingeleset, mikor a huzat keresztulrohan a konyhan. Ahol minden aldott sarok az en eletemmel van telemazolva. Ahol bezarhatom az ajtot, es a puha, szoros takaroba babozodva tudom, itt biztonsagban vagyok.

Szeretem az erzest, mikor a kezem elvesz egy szamomra kulonleges ember tenyereben. Szeretem az erzest, hogy biztonsagban vagyok ezzel az emberrel. Hogy mikor megolel, a vilag gond nelkul osszeomolhatna korottunk. Mert ebben az olelesben tudom, biztonsagban vagyok.

Szeretek nyugovora terni a tudattal, hogy van okom reggel kinyitni a szemeim, mert van munkam, olyan munkam, amit szeretek, ahol szamitanak ram, ami segit eletet teremteni – lesz belole otthonom, etelem, ruham. Hogy senki joindulatatol nem fuggok. Hogy szabad vagyok. Biztonsagban vagyok.

Veszitetted el valaha a bankkartyad, a berleted, minden papirod egyszerre lemerult telefonnal es nulla keszpenzzel a zsebedben egy hatalmas varos kellos kozepen? Alltal mar az utcan halvany sejtes nelkul, hogy most hogyan es hova tovabb? Mikor senki nem hitte el, nem szelhamos penzcsalo vagy, mikor aprot kertel hazamenni. Mert mi mind millioszor hallottuk idegenektol, kik par fillert mutogattak tenyerukon, hogy ‘De csak 100 forint kene a vonatra!’. Miert biznanak az emberek eppen benned? Ki fogja elhinni, hogy TE valoban csak haza szeretnel jutni? Senki… Csak a megveto tekintetek, csak a lehunyt pillak, csak az erzes, hogy puceran allsz egy emberekkel teli terem kellos kozepen, ahol senki es semmi nincs, aki egy takarot teritene a valladra.

Igen, az a nap talan eljon (talan nem)…

… amikor az a nagyon kulonleges ember kisetal az eletedbol.

… amikor a biztonsagot nyujto otthon csapda lesz csupan, hol a millio emlek mint elet-ragcsalo lenyek bujnak minden sarokban, fekete-feherre mazolva szinektol vibralo eleted.

… amikor a felnyitott levelbol nem mas pottyan ki, mint egy jo kover felmondas.

 

Igen, eljohet az a nap, mikor csak lebegsz a nagy, sotet, hideg semmiben, tokeletesen egyedul, es senki es semmi nincs, aki visszarantana, aki meleget tekerne kored.

AZONBAN VAN egy valoban biztonsagos hely ebben a mindensegben. AZ a hely, ahol eppen most letezel.

Csak hunyd be szemed. Csak erezd, ahogy a levego megtolti a tested. Eletben vagy. Ez a takaro a valladon. Erezd a Foldet alattad – mindig ott van, mindig megtart.

Most kepzeld el, hogy egy buborekban ulsz. Egy fenyes, ragyogo buborekban. Meleg, ovo, biztonsagos.

Tard ki a karjaid. Szelesre, mint aki olelni keszul. Mutasd az egre az arcod, es guberalj ossze nemi mosolyt. Nem baj, ha kicsit poros, csikorgo. Es koszond meg a levegot a tudodben, a FOLDet a feneked alatt, es ezt a ragyogo, fenyes buborekot korotted – ebben az egy pillanatban. Mert ennyi, amid van. Semmi mas. Es te vagy az egyetlen, aki biztonsagot, meleget teremthet az eletedbe. Senki es semmi mas rajtad kivul allo ezt soha meg nem adhatja.

Szoval amig itt vagy, amig elsz, unnepeld magad. Unnepeld ezt a pillanatot. Es ezt. Meg ezt. Unnepeld az eleted – ebben az egy pillanatban.