Category Archives: Travel

To the margin of a winter solstice

To the margin of a winter solstice

Today is 21st December. Winter solstice. Everyone is opening their hearts, lighting the candles, thinking through the old year, planning the new one. At the end of the day we will welcome the longest night of the year to bring even more light into the world from the following morning.

There are days when only the endless darkness exists within. The doubts, the fears, the unanswered questions mudding the sea of the thoughts. The expectations wanted to get fulfilled – even unconsciously. Sometimes there is comparison – myself, my life, where I am on my life path. Sometimes it seems the ornaments of the learned patterns are engraved hopelessly deeply. The little mermaid just floating, floating in the ocean of despair.

And there are days when there is nothing else but the silence. The breath. The sip of hot cacao as it is crawling through the throat. The sweet air as it is expanding the lungs. This is it. This is what I have. This is me. This hot sensation. This bite of air. But all these are for a quick moment only. As the next exhale takes everything away.

Someone is sitting here and writing these words – she was shaped by places, people, events. I am a monument. Proof of a past. Moments swept away by time.

In the city which was a home one day, the streets have new names, there are new shops, old buildings disappeared. The name of the city is the same, but THE city who made me to myself, does not exist anymore, does not exist anywhere – only within me.

As that people neither – who shaped the me who I am today. The name, the body is the same. But the person I met, who shared my steps, who exchanged thoughts and feelings only exists within me, nowhere else in this universe.

From tomorrow the darkness of the night slowly fades away. More light enters into our life. The little mermaid swims into the shore, shake it off her glittering scales and starts to dance. Because today is the day of celebration, gratitude and thanks. For everything and everyone ever stepped into my chalk circle. And since that moment they are with me, within me forever to build, to destroy, to shape. Within me until the last moment of my existence.

(A magyar valtozat ekezetek nelkul olvashato.)

Egy napfordulo margojara

December 21-e van. Teli napfordulo. Mindenki unneplobe oltozteti a lelket, fenyeket gyújt, osszegez es terveket gyart. A nap vegen a leghosszabb ejszaka koszont rank, hogy atadja helyet a novekvo vilagossagnak.

Van, mikor a vegtelen sotetseg letezik csak ott bent. A ketsegek, a felelmek, a megvalaszolatlan kerdesek teszik zavarossa a gondolat-tengert. Az elvarasok, mik fele ohatatlan is ott a megfelelni vagyas. Neha hasonlitok – magam, az eletem, ahol tartok. A tanult mintak sordisze olykor levakarhatatlannak tunik. Uszik a kis hableany, uszik a ketsegbeeses vegtelen oceanjaban.

Maskor meg van a csend. A lelegzet. A korty forro kakao ahogy kuszik vegig a torkon. Az edes levego tagitja a tüdőt. Ennyi van. Ennyim van. Ennyi vagyok. Ez a forro erzes. Ez a falat levego. De ez is csak egy pillanatra, mert mar ki is lelegeztem.

Ul itt valaki, aki irja ezeket a sorokat. Formaltak tajak, emberek, esemenyek. Emlekmu vagyok. Multbizonyitek. Lepergett pillanatok.

A varosban, mi egykor az otthon volt, atneveztek az utcakat, uj boltok nyiltak, epuletek tuntek el. A nev egyezik, de AZ a varos, ami engem magamma tett, rajtam kivul mashol nem letezik.

Ahogy azok az emberek sem, akik azza tettek, aki ma vagyok. A nev, a test ugyanaz, de akivel en talalkoztam, aki mellettem lepdelt, hozzam beszelt, mar csak bennem el, sehol mashol.

Holnapol az ej sotetje enyhul. A napfenyes orak hosszabbak lesznek. A kis hableany majd kiuszik a partra, lecsatolja a pikkelyes rokolyat. Es tancol. Mert unnep van, hala, koszonet. Mindennek es mindenkinek, aki valaha belepett a kretakorombe. Es azota is itt van velem, bennem, epitve, rombolva, formalva, alakitva. Bennem önnön letezesem vegso pontjaig.

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.)



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.


Informal report about a Maya fire ceremony

The candle is burning…

Yes, there are moments when I feel I am the luckiest person of this universe. For instance when in the middle of the jungle I am standing around a huge fire with the local Maya descendants, participating in a fire ceremony, my mind just stops working as it is not able to process the fact I am originated literally from the other part of the globe from a sleepy, small town of the flattest, most boring part of Hungary. (It is my own personal Kansas.) And that it is nothing else than a miracle that something guided me here from there.

I sneaked out to a fire ceremony with a friend in the time of corona virus. Officially after 5pm no one were allowed to leave their house. The rule breaker risked to get arrested. I thought as all local people will be there (might be the police person himself) there is no way not to be present for us. Worst case scenario I will spend some time with a whole Maya community in a jail. Even better.

People have been standing around the huge fire behind the local church. ‘Inglesia Catolica’ written on the facade. In the spot of the hesitantly placed wood cross a huge fire blazes. Even hundreds of years are not able to erase a thousands year old tradition. Nothing and no one is able to cut out that seed from the hearth of the people which gives them hope, fate, which helps them to live their life. Yes, it is possible to build a church during the day, but night time the walls will collapse and the fire became the ruler.

Children, adults, older people, people are not even able to stand climbed up to the top of the hill to be together this night to offer the ceremony for the ending of the virus, opening the nearby national park that creates income for the locals, to get healed, to give a birth for healthy baby and so forth.

Two men are dancing around the fire to the sound of the marimba which trickling down from the hill, filling up the valley, the river bank, colouring the sleeping darkness between the trees of the jungle. One of the dancing men gave me a piece of wood. I beset the piece of wood. I’m wondering what it should symbolise when it will be my turn to throw it into the fire?

I do watch people. On some of their face I tend to recognize the features of certain person from my life before Guatemala. They are not surprised by my presence though I am everything but similar to them. I do fit. There is space for me. They invite me to the first row to really see what is happening. It is hard to concentrate on my thoughts. I am lost in what surrounds me in the very moment.

Everyone gazes the fire. The shapes formed by the fire burned into my retina – the crazy twists, spirals, the gorging tongues as they are licking the dark nothing. The black smoke is scorching. Tears are running.

People are throwing their own piece of woods, their candles – tiny flames – into the giant bonfire. All the flames are merging. Or they have never been separated? The big fire will not be bigger or more. The small ones will not get lost. They never existed. The huge fire was pinned onto the tip of the candles. Fire-butterflies.

I’m walking around the fire. My soul follows the rhythm of the marimba. Now or never. Quickly, quickly, what do I want to get burned from my life? I do scan through my life. I feel endless gratitude for every moment I have behind me. I can forget myself that for a long time I was not able to fall in love with my life. Or just loved it far too much? Finally I throw the little piece of wood into the lunatic arms of the fire with everything it symbolises.

Ten o’clock in the night. We are walking home in the soaking dark through the jungle. My flip-flop gave up already on the first 100 meter when we left our home on the way towards the ceremony. The rainy season just recently started. I feel the mud squeezing through between my toes. Pachamama a bit slippery under my feet but at the end of the day she is there. Always. The thread leads us home is the babble of the river. The fire ecstatic pictures still hanging on the wall of my retinas. My lungs are overwhelmed by the smell of the flowers.

I do breathe. I breath my life in – through my roots from the Earth. Through my skin from the scorching of the fire. The cups of my pores get gently filled up with the drizzling rain. I feel peace. Harmony. There is nothing to burn. The ME like that has lost its sense. There is no ME. My life stories are just mirages. The ME is just the little piece of the universe found its home in my body.

The candle is burning…

(A magyar valtozat ekezetek nelkul olvashato.)

Eg a gyertya…

Igen, vannak pillanatok, amikor az univerzum legszerencsesebb emberekent letezem szemelyes adatnyilvantartasomban. Peldaul mikor a dzsungel kozepen maja leszarmazottakkal allok egy hatalmas tabortuz korul, tuz szertartason veve reszt, az agyam nemes egyszeruseggel kikapcsol, mert nem kepes feldolgozni a tenyt, hogy lenyegeben a foldgolyo masik felerol erkeztem, egy almos kis telepulesrol, hazam egyik leglaposabb, legunalmasabb sarkabol. (Az en szemelyes Kansas-em). Ez semmi mas mint csoda, hogy onnan valami ide vezerelt.

A tuz ceremoniara lenyegeben kiloptuk magunkat egy baratommal a korona lezarasok idejen. Hivatalosan delutan ot utan senki nem hagyhatta el az otthonat. A szabalyszegesert borton jar. Azon toprengtem, hogy valoszinu minden helyi ember ott lesz (talan maga a rendorseg kepviseloje is). Akkor pedig nem letezik, hogy pont en ne legyek ott. Legrosszabb esetben egy egesz maja kozosseggel mulatom idom a bortonben. Kivanni sem kivanhatnek egyebet.

Az emberek korbealljak a hatalmas tabortuzet a helyi templom mogott. ‘Angol Katolikus’, hirdeti a homlokzat. A ‘mintha csak veletlen’ leszurt fakereszt helyen most hatalmas tuz lobog. Hiaba evek szazai, evezredes tradicio nem radirozhato ki. Senki es semmi nem tudja az emberek szive melyerol kiirtani azt ami hitet ad, ami elni segit.  Lehet nappal templomot epiteni barmilyen isten neveben, de mikor leszall az ej, a falak leomlanak es fellobog az osi tuz.

Gyerekek, felnottek, idosebb felnottek, jarni szinte keptelenek mind felkapaszkodtak a hegy tetejere, hogy egyuttesen ajanljak fel e ceremoniat, kerve a virus jarvany veget, a kozeli nemzeti park ujboli megnyitasat, ami tobbseguk beveteli forrasa, vagy gyogyulasert, egeszseges gyermek szuleteseert fohaszkodjanak.

Ket ferfi tancol a tuz korul a marimba dallamara, mi lecsorog a hegyrol, megtolti a volgyet, a folyo medret, a dzsungel fai kozt szuszogo ejjeli sotetet. Az egyik tancolo ferfi egy fadarabot nyujt felem. Szorongatom a fadarabkat. Mit kepviselve vessem majd a langok koze, ha rajtam a sor?

Nezem az embereket. Nemelyikuk arcan felismerni velem otthoni ismeroseim vonasait. Nem utkoznek meg jelenletemen, holott minden vagyok, csak hasonlo nem. Elferek. Van hely. Az elso sorba tessekelnek, hogy lassam, mi tortenik. Nehez a gondolataimra koncentralni. Elveszek a tortenesekben ott kint.

Mindenki a tuzet bamulja. A tuz agai-bogai a retinamba egnek. Bele az orult csavarok, spiralok, a sotet semmit nyaldoso moho nyelvek.  A ferfiak arcan folyik az izzadtsag. Perzsel a fekete fust. Folyik a konny.

Dobaljak az emberek a maguk fadarabkait, gyertyait – apro langokat a hatalmas tabortuzbe. A langok egybekelnek. Vagy soha nem is voltak kulon? A nagy tuz nem lesz nagyobb, tobb. A picik nem vesznek el. Mert nem is voltak soha. A vegtelen nagy tuz volt mindig, gyertyak hegyere tuzve. Tuzpillangok.

Setalok korbe a tuz korul. A marimba ritmusara ring a lelkem. Most vagy soha. Hamar-hamar, mit is egetnek el? Vegigporgetem az eletem. Vegtelen halat erzek minden pillanatert, ami mogottem van. Most meg azt is megbocsatom magamnak, hogy oly sok even at nem birtam beleszeretni az eletembe? Vagy tulsagosan is szerettem? Vegul a tuz bomlott karjaiba vetem a fadarabkat, s mindent, amit kepvisel.

Este tiz van. Csurom sotetben setalunk hazafele keresztul a dzsungelen. A papucsom meg indulaskor feladta az elso szaz meteren. Esos evszakot irunk. Labujjaim kozt preseli at magat a sar. Foldanya picit csuszos alattam, de vegulis van, ott van, stabilan. A folyo csobogasa a fonal, ami menten haladunk. A tuz rajzolta orult kepek meg ott csungenek retinam falaim. Tudom csurig a viragok ragacsos illataval.

Lelegzem. Beszivom az eletet. A gyokereimen at a foldbol. Boromon at a tuz perzselesebol. Porusaim kelyheit a szitalo esocseppek finoman toltik szinultig. Beke van. Harmonia. Nincs mit elegetni. Az EN mint olyan elveszitette ertelmet. Nincs EN. A torteneteim csak delibabok. Az EN csak a nagy mindenseg egy a testembe szakadt picinyke darabja.

Eg a gyertya…

As above, so below, as within, so without…

For the spine mobilizing flow check my YOUTUBE channel

“As above, so below, as within, so without”…


For a long time I was living in a big city. Stores on every corner 24/7 open. Selling everything you can imagine regardless of the season. When I started to work in a hotel in the jungle, at the beginning I felt uncomfortable when we had no items the menu offered. ‘We run out of wine, sorry. Maybe a week or so.’, ‘No fresh orange juice, sorry, no orange season. ‘

One morning I was in charge to open the restaurant of the hotel. I stepped into the empty kitchen. Dozens and dozens of eggs were piled in the middle of the huge kitchen table. And for a moment I felt there is something wrong with this picture front of me.

When I was a child my grandma had some chicken. If they gave us eggs we had omelette for breakfast. If not, no omelette. We had jam on the bread instead. When I have seen this huge pile of eggs, not the picture of freely running, happy chickens popped into my mind. But the ones who were born and were put into a cage just big enough for their bodies, their feet cramped to catch the bars underneath until they died or stopped producing eggs. Chicken who never seen sunshine, never touched the earth with their feet, never smell the wind, never ate fresh grass. I have seen misery and suffering on the table. An altered version of the menu appeared in my mind: ‘Suffering with spinach’, ‘Scrambled misery’, ‘Or do you prefer the fried version? No worries! We happy to offer!’

I used to have an office job. I was not able to get rid of the picture from my head during the whole time I worked there: I’m a chicken in the ‘chicken-factory’. Are you an evening person? Forget it. You have to wake up early to go to work. Are you a woman, you have your period and just want to curl under your duvet? Forget it! Put your make-up on, you have an important meeting today! Do you have your baby and want to stay with her/him to see his/her growing and enjoy the moment with her/him? Forget it! Hire a kid from abroad to spend the precious time with your baby as long as you sit front of a computer making money for someone already has a lot and to pay this stranger at home looking after your kid. Do you want to enjoy the sunshine? Forget it! Take your jumper on as in your office you will sit in a 21 degree-airconditioned room for 9 hours even there is 30 degree outside brightened up with sunshine-imitating, super-eco light bulbs.

In the nature there is time for strawberries. There is time for apple. Time for sowing the seed. Time for harvest. Time to work and time to rest. In our civilized human life every time is time for everything. No respect for natural cycles. No respect for nature. No respect for ourselves. Since Hermes Trismegistus we know:

“As above, so below, as within, so without, as the universe, so the soul…”

There is no difference between how we treat plants, animals and how we treat ourselves. Are we worried because of the Earth? … Lots of human has cancer. Uncurable illnesses around and the doctors just shrug their shoulders. Many people depressed. Mental illness in every household. Substance abuse is so common if you are not involved you are a weirdo. Overworked, overstressed, exhausted bodies and spirits all around. And “as above, so below”… yes, our planet is exhausted.

Instead of wanting to save the world, might be time to start to think about to save ourselves. No, I am not talking about growing plants on the Mars. But to clean up our own s…t here, on the Earth. Inside of us. In each one of us. One by one. Not to wait for politicians, not to blame wealthy people, no to push responsibility to our neighbors, to the god… to do something. Do it. You. Now. Slow down. Make your own decision. You have a choice. Always have a choice. What is your choice? How DO YOU WANT to live YOUR OWN LIFE?

(A magyar valtozat ekezetek nelkul olvashato.)


“Amint fent ugy lent, amint kint ugy bent.”

Sokaig egy nagyvarosban eltem. Boltok minden sarkon, nyitva 24/7 oraban. Mindig minden kaphato, evszaktol fuggetlen. Amikor egy a dzsungel melyen megbuvo hostelben kezdtem dolgozni, eleinte kellemetlenul erintett, ha nem volt raktaron az, amit a menuben igertunk. “Oh, bocsanat, elfogyott a bor. Talan egy het mulva.’, ‘Nem, nincs friss narancsle. Csak kannas. Nincs szezonja.’

Egy reggel en nyitottam az ettermet. Amikor beleptem az ures konyhaba, tojasok tucatjai tornyosultak a konyha kozepen terpeszkedo konyhaasztalon. Ereztem, valami nagyon nincs rendben ezzel a keppel, amit latok.

Gyerekkoromban nagymamam mini allatkertjeben voltak csirkek is. Ha tojtak tojast, volt rantotta reggelire, ha nem, nem. Ekkor lepett eletbe a barmi mas opcio: lekvaros/zsiros/sos kenyer. Amikor ez a hegynyi tojasmennyiseg ott tornysult elottem, valahogy nem a nagyi szabadon lofralo csirkeinek kepe idezodott fel bennem. De azoke, akiket szuletesuk utan egy ketrecbe zartak. Ketrecbe, mi eppen csak elegendo meretu egy csirkenek. Ketrecbe, amire ragorcsolodtek a kapaszkodo labujjak, azzal a gorccsel, amit csak a halal old.  Csirkek kepe idezodott fel elottem, akik sosem lattak napfenyt, sosem kapirgaltak az elo foldet, sosem borzolta tollukat a szel, sosem csipkedtek friss novenyeket. Szenvedest es fajdalmat lattam az asztalon tornyosulni. Elkepzeltem, mi lenne, ha igy modositanank a menut: “spenotos szenvedes”, vagy “rantotta egzotikus kinokkal fuszerezve… Oh, hogy jobban kedveli a serpenyos verziot?! Semmi problema. Boldogsag, hogy elkeszithetjuk kedvencet.”

Volt ido, hogy irodaban dolgoztam. Csodas uvegepulet, foldig ero ablakokkal. De elso pillanattol fogva keptelen voltam elszakadni a kepzettol, hogy egy csirke vagyok a keltetogepben.

Hogy ejjeli bagoly az alaptermeszeted, a reggel nem a te idoszakod?! Felejtsd el! Reggel koran kell kelned, mert idore kell erkezned az irodaba. Hogy no vagy eppen radkoszono menstruacioval es masra se vagysz, mint begubodzni a dunyhad melyere?! Felejtds el! Fesd fel a napi arcod! Fontos targyalas var rad. Hogy nemreg szuletett babad, es jo lenne otthon lenni vele, latni, ahogy no, valtozik napra nap, elvezni a soha vissza nem tero pillanatokat vele?! Felejtsd el! Alkalmazz egy kulfoldi tinit, maga is gyermek, aki majd elmeseli, hogy amig te masnak termelted a penzt, vagy epp arra kerestel, hogy e kedves idegent kifizesd, hogy tette megy gyermeked az elso lepeseit, hogy keresett teged elso kiejtett szavaival. Sut kint a nap?! Felejtsd el! Tegyel egy extra pulcsit a taskadba, mert var rad a 21 fokosra legkondicionalt iroda, valodi napfeny helyett napfenyt imitalo eco egokkel teve kenyelmesebbe eleted.

A termeszetben ideje van az eper eresenek. Az almanak. Ideje a magvetesnek es az aratasnak. Ideje a munkanak es a pihenesnek. Mai civilizalt vilagunkban mindig ideje van mindennek. Az elet termeszetes ciklusait nem tiszteljuk tobbe. Sajat testunk igenyeit szonyeg ala soporjuk.

Hermész Triszmegisztosz ota tudjuk:

“Amint fent ugy lent, amint kint ugy bent.”

Azaz nem, nincs kulonbseg akkozott, hogyan banunk a termeszettel, az allatokkal, vagy onmagunkkal. Ujabban felemeltuk hangunkat, es aggodunk a Foldert… Minden idoknel tobben szenvednek rakban. Gyogyithatatlan betegsegek utik fel fejuket a semmibol, amire az orvosok csak tanacstalanul megvonjak a vallukat. Milliok depressziosok. Minden haztartasban van legalabb egy mentalis problema. A fuggoseg (alkohol, cigaretta, stb) olyan egyertelmuen letezik, hogy lassan az az urleny, aki nem hasznal semmit. Tulhajszolt, szetstresszelt, kimerult testek es lelkek mindenutt. “Amint fent ugy lent”… nem csak mi, a Fold is kimerult.

Ahelyett, hogy a Foldet akarnank megmenteni, talan ideje onmagunk megmentesere koncentralni. Nem, nem arra gondolok, hogy repuljunk a Marsra novenyt termeszteni. Hanem hogy itt a Foldon elve kezdjunk el szembenezni onmagunkkal, kipucolva a sok felhalmozott szemetet testbol, szivbol, lelekbol. Mi mind. Egyenkent. Kivetel nelkul. Nem politikusokra varva, a tehetos embereket okolva, vagy a szomszedot, az istent… ki mit izlese szerint. Ideje nekunk, egyenenkent tenni a dolgunkat. Te is. En is. Itt es most. Lassabb fokozatba kapcsolni. Tiszta donteseket hozni. Mert a dontes a mienk. Mert van dontesunk. Mindig.

Te hogy dontesz? TE hogy akarod elni a SAJAT eleted?




Open the heart for gratefulness


For a 12 minutes upper back mobilizing/heart opening practice check in to my YOUTUBE channel. Enjoy!



Recently I noticed that at the end of my practice when I scan through my body I am not only relaxing the certain body parts but I started to have conversation with them. I started to say thank you for them being as they are. I started to see them as they are and being grateful for what I have and to learn how cruel I was with myself for years and years. Basically I was my worst enemy: I criticised, I compared myself. I always felt I have to do more and more to deserve anyone’s attention, love. This self-unacceptance was so natural for me and so deeply engraved within, I did not even realize what I was doing. I had to look into some mirrors to see it.

I am lying on the floor. I am in savasana. Corps pose. A reminder of the fact where we are all heading. I surrender. I listen my breath. Scanning through my body. My alive body.

Instead of wanting to hide it, to change the colour of it, I am grateful to have a thick, long, healthy hair which reminds me to my dad.

Instead of wanting to change the size of it, I say thank you for my nose it works properly and I have something with me all the time reminds me to my mom whenever I look into a mirror.

Instead of wanting to change or erase them, I am grateful for all of the wrinkles, lines, asymmetry on my face. They are the storytellers of all the sweet and hurtful moments of my 44 years.

I say thank you for the discomfort in my throat teaching me to say ‘yes’ when I mean ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when I mean ‘no’.

I am grateful for the pain in my shoulders reminding me whenever I start to carry far too much weight, responsibilities again.

I say thank you for the stiffness in my upper back making clear the smile on my face is not always real yet.

For my lover back pain for offering me the direction and the speed of a more aware life.
For the knee pain making it clear the direction of my life is not always the right one.

I am lying on the floor. Giving space to the moment as it is. To myself in the moment as I am.

I am in savasana. THE END pose. Every end has the seed of a new beginning. I surrender to the new the next moment will bring to me, to the lesson, that “perhaps there is no mistake […]. Perhaps the story the mind has constructed about life is just that, a story, and you are here, whole, prior to all stories. […] Just become more and more real, more and more human, more and more conscious, less and less perfect. More self-aware and willing to feel. […] And to feel more. And more. […] To sometimes not know what the next step is. […] Discovering who we really are. With each day we begin meeting with ourselves more deeply. […] Treat ourselves like the […] most fascinating and beloved creatures.” (Jeff Foster – The joy of true mediation, New Sarum Press, 2019)

Savasana. There is nothing within me but gratefulness, peace and space for growing into the next moment.


(A magyar valtozat meg mindig csupan ekezetek nelkul olvashato.)



Azt fedeztem fel, hogy ujabban a joga gyakorlas vegen, mikor gondolatban vegiglatogatom az osszes testreszem, nem csak ellazitom oket, de egyfajta parbeszedben talalom magam veluk: koszonetet mondva nekik hogy vannak ugy, ahogy. Elkezdtem felfedezni es halas lenni azert, amim van, es megerteni azt, mennyire konyortelen voltam magammmal hosszu eveken keresztul. Tulajdonkeppen en voltam onmagam legadazabb ellensege: kritizaltam, hasonlitottam magam midenhez es mindenkihez aminek a vegen mindig ott volt a kovetkeztetes, meg tobbet es tobbet kell tennem, hogy kierdemeljem masok figyelmet, szeretetet. Ez az ‘onelnemfogadas’ olyan termeszetesen letezett bennem, olyan melyen gyokerezett, hogy eszre se vettem, mit csinalok magammal. Bele kellett neznem par tukorbe, hogy feltunjon.

Fekszem a foldon. Savasana pozban. Halott poz. Emlekezteto, merre tartunk mindannyian, barhol allomasozunk is most az eletben. Nincs bennem akaras. Csak letezem. Hallgatom a lelegzetem. Vegiglatogatom testem zugait. Elo, letezo, lukteto testem.

Es ahelyett, hogy el akarnam rejteni, vagy meg akarnam valtoztatni a szinet, halat erzek hogy dus, hosszu, egeszseges hajjal aldott meg az eg, ami apura emlekeztet.

A merete miatti elegedetlenseg helyett halas vagyok az orromnak, hogy mukodik, s hogy van valamim, ami mindig emlekzetet anyura, barhanyszor a tukorbe nezek.

Ahelyett hogy kisimittatnam, vagy leradiroztatnam arcomrol a rancokat, foltokat, helyreigazittatnam annak asszimmetriajat, orulok hogy leteznek nekem, elmult 44 even minden edes es bus pillanatanak hirmondoikent.

Meghajtom fejem es megkoszonom a torkomban volt gombocoknak, hogy tanitottak ‘igen’-t mondani, amikor annak volt ideje, es ‘nem’-et, mikor annak.

Meghajtom fejem es megkoszonom a fajdalmat a vallamban, mi mindig ott volt, ha figyelmeztetni kellett, ujra tobb sulyt, felelosseget vettem rajuk.

Meghajtom fejem es megkoszonom a lapockaim kozti bedermedt erzest, mi emlekzetet, a mosoly az arcomon neha meg nem kepes a szivem legmelyerol erkezni.

Meghajtom fejem es megkoszonom a fajdalmat a derekamban, hogy utiranyt mutat es lassitasra invital ha annak van ideje.

Meghajtom fejem es megkoszonom a terdeimnek, hogy neha megallasra kenyszeritettek, idot engedve atgondolni, merre legyen a kovetkezo lepes.

Fekszem a foldon. Hagyva a pillanatot alakulni, ahogy alakul. Hagyva magam letezni a pillanatban, ahogy letezem.

Fekszem a foldon savasana pozban. A VEGE poz. Minden vegben ott az uj kezdet apro magja. Megadom magam az ujnak, amitol a kovetkezo pillanat terhes, a megertesnek, hogy “talan nincs is itt hiba […]. Hogy talan a tortenet, amit az elme krealt az eletet illetoen, ennyi csupan: egy tortenet. Hogy a valosag pusztan annyi, hogy letezem a magam teljessegeben, minden tortenetet megelozoen.” Hagyom magam tanulni a lecket, “igazibbnak es igazibbnak lenni, emberebbnek, kevesbe tokeletesnek. Hagyom magam erezni a bennem zakatolo eletet. Hagyom magam erezni. Hagyom erezni. Hagyom… erezni. […] Hagyom neha nem tudni, mi a kovetkez lepes. […] Felfedezni, ki is vagyok valojaban. Hagyni magam napra nap ujra talalkozni az eppen valodi enemmel. […] Ugy banni magammal, mint a legvarazslatosabb, legszeretnivalobb lennyel.” (Jeff Foster – The joy of true mediation, New Sarum Press, 2019)

Savasana. Nincs mas bennem csak hala, beke, es vegtelen hely a csirazo jovonek.

Know your own strength

For the strengthening yoga flow click here: YOUTUBE STRENGTHENING YOGA FLOW


Know your own strength


Back in time when I tried to convince a friend to practice yoga with me in a beautiful studio she said, she does not want to join me as she feels intimidated. Her view was: in yoga studios everyone has amazing body, stunning yoga clothes, everyone is self confident, levitating at least 5 cm above the floor, talks about green smoothies or the latest yoga retreat they attended.

I admit there was time when I felt the same. It is very easy to look around, compare ourselves with others and realise: there is ALWAYS someone more beautiful, taller, shorter, smaller, bigger, younger, older, richer, poorer… than me.

Not in yoga studios only by the way.

Do you want to live a desperate life? I can give you the best recipe: ALWAYS compare yourself, keep your focus on what you do not have. It “helps” you to feel you are the faultiest, weakest, less appealing human being on this planet.

Teaching yoga, working with people changed my life in many senses. I started realising there is ALWAYS a reason people attending in yoga classes. At the beginning – as said – is mostly the physical element – we have pains here or there. But slowly we are shifting from the physical to another level. Slowly most of us realises our body is just a vehicle, a mirror. It shows us what is inside.

We are all here to learn something. We have this body, this life as a tool to be able to learn our lessons. There is NOONE without things to learn. Which means we all – all living creatures – has struggles. We are all searching for solutions, balance, less pain. Some of us in a yoga studio. Even the most fancy looking ones, the ones with the most self-confident vibe.

I was teaching the wealthiest area of London. Beautifully carved noses, boobs, faces all around. But the energy in the room was heavy. Sadness, self doubt, exhausted spirits and hearts have been hiding behind these beautifully painted masks. That was the moment I started to feel more compassion towards people. Mainly towards the ones challenged me in any way. My experience is: the meanest ones had the biggest pain within.

How many times I heard praising nature: “What a beautiful flower! What a mesmerising hill! What an amazing tree!” Yes, creatures of nature are wonderful things. But do not forget we are all creations of nature as well. As a leaf, a flower, a bird is perfect, you are perfect.  It is sort of funny to think when mother nature created US, it made a mistake. Don’t let your own power get depleted because of your fears, comparison, limiting beliefs. ALWAYS remember: you have your inner strength. YOU ARE STRONG. YOU ARE PERFECT. YOU ARE ENOUGH. Just as a flower, a leaf. Just as you are.


(Elore is elnezest, a magyar valtozat meg mindig csupan ekezetek nelkul olvashato.)


Erosebb vagy, mint gondolod!


Felvetettem egyszer egy ismerosomnek, jojjon el velem joga orara az egyik legszebb, legkonfortosabb joga studioba. Nem jott, mert mint mondta, ezeken a helyeken teljesen ufonak erzi magat – mert ott mindenkinek gazella teste van, a legmenobb joganacikban feszitenek, magabiztosan vonulnak vegig a studion, mit vonulnak?!, 5 centivel a fold folott lebegve kozlekednek zold smoothie-rol es a legutobbi varazslatos joga retreatrol tarsalogva.

Bevallom, volt ido, mikor engem is zavarba ejtett ha joga studio kozelebe keveredtem. Mert ha korbeneztem MINDIG volt/van szebb, jobb, okosabb, magasabb, alacsonyabb, fiatalabb, oregebb… mint en.

Jegyzem meg, nem csak a joga studiokban.

Akarod tudni egy elkeseredett elet receptjet? Egyszeru: MINDIG nezz korul es hasonlitsd magad masokhoz. Koncentralj szigoruan arra, amid nincs. Garantaltan az univerzum legertektelenebb, legtokeletlenebb, legvacakabb letezojenek fogod erezni magad!

A jogatanarsag korulbelul fenekestul forgatta fel az eletem. Peldaul rajottem, hogy MINDIG van oka, ha valaki jogazni kezd. Igen, eleinte foleg a fizikalis nyugok – itt faj, ott faj. Aztan valami valtozni kezd, es a fizikalis sikrol eszrevetlen attranszportalodunk egy masik szinterre. Hol azt latjuk, a test csak egy eszkoz, egy tukor. Ami arrol arulkodik, arrol mesel, ami bent van.

Hiszem, hogy mind tanulni erkeztunk ebbe az eletbe. A testunk, az eletunk ezen tanulnivalok elsajatitasanak eszkoze, terepe csupan. NINCS EMBER, akinek ne lenne tanulnivaloja. Ami azt is jelenti, mindannyian kuzdunk mindenfele kevesbe kedves demonokkal. Mind megoldasokat keresunk, egyensulyt, kevesebb kinlodast, kuzdelmet. A legmagabiztosabbnak, a leg ’en vagyok a vilag ura’-nak tunok is.

Volt, hogy London egyik legtehetosebb negyedeben tartottam orakat. Magazinba illo orrok, mellek, arcok amerre a szem ellatott. De valami nehez, szomoru energia lengte be a termet. Onmaguk ertekeben ketkedo, faradt lelkek es szivek rejtoztek a tokeletesen konstrualt alarcok mogott. Ez a tapasztalat segitett abban, hogy osszehasonlitas es itelkezes helyett reszvettel tudjak fordulni masok fele. Kulonos tekintettel a nehezebb esetekre. Sokszor a legelviselhetetlenebb embereknek faj leginkabb valami ott bent.

Millioszor hallom, hogy “O, ez a virag milyen gyonyoru! Ez a hegyseg lenyugozo! Ez a fa maga a tokely!” Es valoban, a termeszet teremtmenyei tokeletesek. De ne feledjuk, MI MIND a termeszet reszei vagyunk. Es ahogy egy level, egy virag, egy madar tokeletes, mi emberek is tokeletesek vagyunk. Te is kedves olvaso. Ugy ahogy vagy. Ha jobban meggondolom, tulajdonkeppen van valami vicces abban, mikor azt gondoljuk, a termeszet pont a mi megalkotasunkkor tevedett. A felelem, az osszehasonlitas, a korlatozo hiedelmek rossz szellemkent kuporogva utaznak vallainkon, elgyengitve, elhomalyositva azt a vegtelen erot, ami eredendoen ott van mindannyiunkban.

Allj meg neha (ha kihivasra vagysz, menj el egy joga orara egy zavarba ejto joga studioba) es halld meg a hangot, ami ott bent folyton sugja, emlekeztetve: EROS VAGY. TOKELETES. ELEG. Epp mint egy virag, egy level. Epp mint ahogy vagy.

Life-celebration – thoughts around a birthday party

Life-celebration – thoughts around a birthday party


I am the queen of the daily routine. Super happy to celebrate others, but still tend to shy back if others want to celebrate me. For a long time I have seen the whole life as a special occasion, so did not understand what is the point of this celebration buzz? Yes, life is something special and sacred. I still agree with myself. BUT I learned it worth to make some moments more special, more memorable. That we have to stop sometimes, otherwise we wake up one morning realising – I do not have this mental/emotional oasis where I can get back on the bluer days to warming up my heart.

We had a birthday celebration last week in Utopia Eco Hostel. Indy, the owners boy turned into three. Kids from all around the area were invited. I have to admit my first thought was – why the  fuss to create this big celebration for such a little boy? He won’t even remember.

As I grew up I inherited the knowledge to survive in any circumstances. To fight, to keep myself above the water no matter what. I am deeply grateful for all my ancestors I do carry awful lots of strength in my genes. But celebrating, stopping, creating special moments – I learned later.

From my grown-up years I clearly remember one particular birthday. After the university I was renting an attic-room from a very special family in Budapest. One day when I went home, all doors were open but the flat was empty, quiet. I was puzzled. …until the moment they jumped out from behind the sofa, singing, shouting me happy birthday. I almost ruined the celebration as I could not stop crying holding my first birthday cake in my hands.

That was the moment I vowed to myself I will make time to stop and celebrate. I will create memories. Because celebrations are vital to the human spirit. They affirm that life is more than just a day-to-day routine.

I was watching Indy. Though he is very young, he was behaving differently. He was like a king – I could feel his strength. No tantrum but quietly walking around, being present in every corner of the space. Yes, he might won’t remember the cake in 10-20 years time, but I’m convinced the feeling, the vibe of the afternoon will stay with him. He will remember that there was a day, when he felt loved, cared by many. And the feeling, the knowledge that he worth the love, the attention will get built into his bones.

So if you are like me, make the effort and set a party, a ceremony or a picnic in the park (or at least let others to do it for you) and invite everyone you think they care. Do not allow the voice of your fear: ‘WHAT IF no one turns up and it gets clear, no one loves me’ to stop you! Find the way you want to remember. Create pictures in your inner photo album. You do not need to follow the path of others. Just do something! Celebrate your life! Celebrate yourself! Because you worth it!


Eletunnep – gondolatok egy szuletesnap urugyen


Hetkoznapokban elso osztalyu vagyok. Masokat unnepelni is kitunoen tudok. A sajat magam unneplese… nos, az meg kicsit docogosen megy. Sokaig azt gondoltam, az elet onmagaban eleg kulonleges, minek a sok felhajtas? Es igen, az elet valoban egy csoda ugy ahogy van. DE azt is megtanultam, hogy kellenek unnepi pillanatok. Meg, hogy neha le kell lassulni, megpihenni, feldisziteni a lelkunket, maskulonben egy nap arra ebredunk, hogy visszatekintve csak egy szurke massza nyulik mogottunk, ami… hat igen, ez volt az elet. Es hianyoznak azok a kis oazisok, ahova vissza lehet vonulni a huvosebb napokon szivet melengetni.

Mult heten dzsungel-szulinapi partin vehettem reszt. Indy, a tulajok kisfia harom eves lett. A kornyek osszes gyereke hivatalos volt. Bevallom, az elso korben felbukkano gondolatom az volt – minek ez a nagy felhajtas egy ilyen pici gyereknek? Ugyse fog emlekezni.

Felnovekedve megtanultam hogy kell tulelni, harcolni, viz szinen maradni barmifele korulmenyek kozott. Minden felmenomnek orokre halas leszek az eroert, amit a genjeim minden csucskeben hordozok. Unnepelni, megallni, kulonleges pillanatokat teremteni azonban masoktol tanultam.

Felnott eveimbol van egy meghatarozo szulinapi emlekem. Az egyetem utan padlasszobat beretlem egy kulonleges csaladnal. Egyik nap arra mentem haza, hogy minden ajto tarva-nyitva, am a lakas ures. Sehol senki. Nem ertettem… egeszen addig, mig elo nem ugraltak a butorok mogul a haziak, ‘boldog szuletesnapot’ enekelve. Majdnem jol tonkretettem az unneplest – csak potyogtak a konnyeim az elso sajat szuletesnapi tortamra.

Ez volt az a pillanat, amikor megfogadtam, tudatosan torekedni fogok arra, hogy legyenek emlekezetes pillanatok az eletemben. Mert az unnepek eltetik a lelket. Emlekeztetnek, hogy az elet tobb mint napi rutin.

Figyeltem Indyt. Aki bar nagyon fiatal, valahogy mashogy viselkedett. Olyan volt, mint egy kis kiraly – csendesebb, lehetett erezni a megfontolt erot. Semmi harom eves hiszti. Jart korbe-korbe, mintegy felugyelve kis birodalma minden szegletet. Igen, lehet hogy 10-20 ev mulva nem emlekszik majd a tortara. De meggyozodesem, hogy az erzes, a delutan hangulata orokre vele marad. Emlekezni fog, hogy volt egy nap, mikor sokan osszejottek miatta, neki, erte. Es az erzes, a tudat, hogy masok szeretetere, figyelmere erdemes, lenye megingathatatlan alapelmenye lesz.

Szo mi szo kedves olvaso, ha te is hozzam hasonloan a hetkoznapok koronazatlan hose vagy, szedd ossze minden batorsagod, es rendezz partit magadnak, ceremoniat, vagy egy pikniket a szabadban. (De legalabb hagyd, hogy masok megrendezzek neked!) Es hivj meg mindenkit, akinek szamitasz. Ne hagyd, hogy a ‘de MI VAN HA senki nem jon el, es kiderul, tulajdonkeppen senkinek nem vagyok fontos’ felelme megallitson. Talald ki, rendezd meg a sajat emlekeidet! Mindegy mit, csak csinalj valamit! Unnepeld az eleted! Unnepeld magad! Mert megerdemled!

So THANK YOU MY MIND! “So long, and thanks for all the fishes!”

Online yoga practice for warm up the whole body
For the whole WARM UP yoga practice click here: YOUTUBE WARM UP

So THANK YOU MY MIND! “So long, and thanks for all the fishes!

This is my first video since I am back to Guatemala. I left behind my 14 years long life in London.

Many people said I am brave to make a decision like this. I do not think I call bravery to follow a very intense call. You just do it because you can not do anything else. Because you feel if you do not follow this voice you are not true to yourself. You are not living YOUR OWN life.

What bravery is?

Still in London I woke up several times in the middle of the night and questioned myself “What on earth are you doing? It has no sense! You have a safe, comfortable life here. You worked very hard to have all you have now. You are insane!”. No assurance arrived from the darkness. My only company was my super fast heartbeat and the moon.

Later, already in the jungle, exactly the same happened. I opened my eyes for the morning, looked around from the top of my bunk bed – five strangers sleeping all around me in a wooden cabin – and had no clue ‘What the heck I am doing here?! I should be in Triyoga now and teach the class for all those amazing people – some of them even changed their shift just to be able to come to my classes.’

In the morning I was sitting next to the river and was battling with my thoughts. And at one point I realized: I AM SITTING NEXT TO THAT RIVER I WANTED TO SIT WHEN I WAS IN LONDON. I AM HERE NOW. I AM LIVING MY DREAM! WHY DO I RUIN MY DREAM WITH ENDLESS WORRYING? That was the moment I realized: I was tricked! MY MIND created this whole story of regret, fear in my head. And in that moment I decided to step back and WATCH my mind. Just watched as it is debating with itself – but I was not involved any more.

And I have to admit – I have found it very entertaining. I started to smile. I was in my own theatre. I started to laugh and realised, felt the lightness of the fact: IT IS MY CHOICE to enjoy what is around me NOW or to destroy the beauty of THIS moment through my fears.

I was reading one of my (recently) favorite book (Jeff Foster: The joy of true meditation; New Sarum Press 2019) and I bumped into this sentence: “Thank you, mind, for your suggestions, your imagined futures, your fears. But I will not be your slave any longer.”
So THANK YOU MY MIND! “So long, and thanks for all the fishes!” (The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)

(Elore is elnezest, a magyar valtozat egyelore ekezetek nelkul lesz elerheto.)

Szoval: KOSZONOM ELMEM!  Most kicsit “viszlat es koszi a halakat

Ez az elso videom, miota visszajottem Guatemalaba, tizennegy evnyi londoni eletet hagyva magam mogott.

Sokan mondtak, micsoda batorsag ilyen dontest hozni! De vajon valoban batorsag az, mikor nem teszel mast, csak engedelmeskedsz egy ki tudja honnan erkezo, mindennel erosebb hivasnak? Amikor azert teszel valamit, mert nem tudsz mast tenni?! Mert erzed, ha nem koveted a hivast, nem a SAJAT ELETED eled.

Hogy mi a batorsag?!…

Meg Londonban, nem egy ejjel riadtam fel az ej kozepen a megkerulhetetlen kerdessel osszezarva: “Mi az eget csinalok tulajdonkeppen? Ennek semmi ertelme! Itt egy kenyelmes, biztonsagos elet. Rengeteget dolgoztam, hogy elerjek oda, ahol vagyok. Ez siman elmebetegseg!” Nem erkezett nyugtato haton lapogatas. Csak az ures sotet takart be, mig hallgattam zakatolo szivem, es neztem a hold kifejezestelenul bamulo arcat.

Kesobb, mar Guatemalaban sem volt jobb a helyzet. Elso reggel (meg a masodikon, harmadikon…) mikor a dzsungel kozepen egy osszetakolt faviskoban kinyitottam a szemem, ertetlenul pislogtam az emeletes agyam tetetjerol, hallgatva a korottem szuszogo idegenek egyenletes legzeset, hogy ‘Mi az atyaeget keresek en itt, ahelyett, hogy epp a Triyogaban tartanam az oraim azoknak az embereknek, akik meg arra is kepesek voltak, hogy beosztas cseret kerjenek a munkahelyen csak azert, hogy reszt vehessenek az oramon.’

Egyik ilyen aggodalomtol zsufolt reggelen a folyo partjan ucsorogve az jutott eszembe, hogy MOST EPPEN ANNAK A FOLYONAK A PARTJAN ULOK, AHOL AKKOR AKARTAM ULNI, AMIKOR LONDONBAN VOLTAM. HOGY ITT VAGYOK. EPP AZ ALMOMAT ELEM. MIERT IS ZUZOM PORRA AZT VEGTELEN AGGODALMASKODASSAL?! Ez volt az a pillanat, amikor vilagosan lattam: jol at vagyok verve! A SAJAT AGYAM altal, mert o gyartotta ezt az egesz megbanos, felos tortenetet. Es abban a pillanatban ugy hataroztam, ok, lassuk a medvet!, es picit visszalepve elkezdtem FIGYELNI  sajat gondolataimat. Csak figyeltem a szaguldo gondolatokat, mintha fout mellett a forgalmat, de nem ultem be egy autoba se.

Es be kell vallanom, tulajdonkeppen jol elszorakoztattam magam. Arra lettem figyelmes, hogy mosolygok. A sajat szinhazam neztem. Mikor a teny konnyedseget megereztem, hogy AZ EN VALASZTASOM hogy elvezem ami ITT ES MOST van, vagy a felelmeimre gorcsolve tonkre teszem azt, egyszercsak elkezdtem nevetni.

A (jelenleg) egyik kedvenc konyvemben (Jeff Foster: The joy of true meditation; New Sarum Press 2019) botlottam ma a kovetkezo gondolatba: “Koszonom elmem a jovomre vonatkozo javaslataid, felelmeid. De nem leszek a rabszolgad tobbe.”

Szoval: KOSZONOM ELMEM!  Most kicsit “viszlat es koszi a halakat” (Galaxis utikalauz stopposoknak)