tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9218218278829581672024-03-13T03:30:09.156+01:00Pure Land ResidentMar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-77963627031701959032020-04-19T14:03:00.003+02:002020-04-23T15:52:38.580+02:00Gratefulness to the three wonderful men who are guiding me on this journey<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">This post is as much about gratefulness to the three wonderful men who are guiding me on this journey, as it is meant to bring comfort to anyone </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">fighting disease. May it bring hope to many.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">On January 27, I met with Dr. Hemang Parekh in Paris.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Dr. Hemang is an Ayurvedic doctor, and I went to him looking for a natural way of healing</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">from cancer, following the advice of two great Lamas, Sherab Gyaltsen Rinpoche, who emphatically told me NOT to take chemotherapy and to</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">follow Ayurveda, and Lama Ole Nydahl, who after listening to what western doctors and Rinpoche were advising, reminded me that a Buddha’s</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> advice is the wisest of all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo9fCrXe_5GhjTxHrZpYsV2U0y2SF1fpzjSgOj4lKSSAOPrvfJcbEDqF_Euc4oOqN6alhvZOMmqFn6tmqPK-JUkP_A_zcB8Y8r6cBkzer_DIeaoyAGTAr6auoNI8MooDA0aymRSRKOoHY/s1600/IMG_7012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="655" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo9fCrXe_5GhjTxHrZpYsV2U0y2SF1fpzjSgOj4lKSSAOPrvfJcbEDqF_Euc4oOqN6alhvZOMmqFn6tmqPK-JUkP_A_zcB8Y8r6cBkzer_DIeaoyAGTAr6auoNI8MooDA0aymRSRKOoHY/s200/IMG_7012.jpg" width="143" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hIVibMJSRUvzZeHCv4kw_GHGJZMJNJcN9PYVrdYD3SYE_ShwyLQW28vpz7Wd4CcVlbe8-F9cPR_saqGsiXjQw_YVdQYduUEPmoxFe_N0CGO2-4wPg6t4LeHqzB6lAVq-Et9UJLyJceE/s1600/IMG_7013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hIVibMJSRUvzZeHCv4kw_GHGJZMJNJcN9PYVrdYD3SYE_ShwyLQW28vpz7Wd4CcVlbe8-F9cPR_saqGsiXjQw_YVdQYduUEPmoxFe_N0CGO2-4wPg6t4LeHqzB6lAVq-Et9UJLyJceE/s200/IMG_7013.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZx2il8I2CPj1xsSpd8Vs9g32rnNCaUoDqrTvJDC3qaNW61oNdz2gEH6CY-YaJLyPDH29ojipMXdjaXZe1rajq4aSgBkAVTVj_lG3lMvjzWF9SHdizd9tcEmLjct4EVkavIiGIuDRo8A/s1600/IMG_7011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="952" data-original-width="691" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZx2il8I2CPj1xsSpd8Vs9g32rnNCaUoDqrTvJDC3qaNW61oNdz2gEH6CY-YaJLyPDH29ojipMXdjaXZe1rajq4aSgBkAVTVj_lG3lMvjzWF9SHdizd9tcEmLjct4EVkavIiGIuDRo8A/s200/IMG_7011.jpg" width="145" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Dr. Hemang gave me dietary advises and herbal supplements. He added that some of his patients had been given months to live by western </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">oncologists, and yet they were alive and thriving several years later, because they had simply changed their diet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">I was coming from months of scary meetings with several doctors who all had only one advise to give: chemo! Poison your body or you’ll die. That</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">was the consensus. Still is probably.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The last thing I wanted to do was take more medications. The pain killers they gave me after my double mastectomy had either made me sick or</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">taken me on a confusing mental trip, but none had gotten rid of the pain. I realized I had to make a choice: I could either surrender to the fear the</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> doctors were trying hard to drill into me, or I had to be brave, take all my courage and defy the cancer status quo and follow my intuition.</span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8e4fgrf6aZuoPH9rTvjJYveeryyhYIZ3CZ7qcUi4KGVTkO94WkqwCIJMXQtC2VF641-tE0KqLPVS6nd7beSeAxYlHF05RKugIhn-vYruJJTPZWuq-RTR8OOxkf-KY1djNkzKpx_rpb8/s1600/27ed78bf-5e91-4b76-b098-5f3d28c8568f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="914" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8e4fgrf6aZuoPH9rTvjJYveeryyhYIZ3CZ7qcUi4KGVTkO94WkqwCIJMXQtC2VF641-tE0KqLPVS6nd7beSeAxYlHF05RKugIhn-vYruJJTPZWuq-RTR8OOxkf-KY1djNkzKpx_rpb8/s320/27ed78bf-5e91-4b76-b098-5f3d28c8568f.jpg" width="285" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The leap was not without challenges. I cried so much out of pure fear and despair. I longed for help, for someone to help with research, to hold my </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">hand, hug me, tell me everything will be alright, but I had only myself, a Buddha, and a gentle, quiet, and kind Indian doctor.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">-I needed no one else-</b></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">There began a journey of learning to stand up for myself, to make myself my own priority, to care for my body like I didn’t even know was possible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">I always loved to cook, so that made everything easier. I didn’t ease into the new diet, I jumped right in and decided it is possible to heal without</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">chemicals, poisons and all that our poor western doctors (within the limits of their actually budding science) consider lifesaving.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Last Wednesday, I received the results of my last PET Scan, 6 months after my first diagnosis, 4 after my surgery. The results came back negative.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">In practical terms, this means I am cancer free.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">I don’t know what the future will bring. I am only responsible for what I can do myself, and I assume gladly such responsibility.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Here, you can see a picture of the supplements I take every day. From dr. Hemang I got Pratishakti, to prevent metastasis, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">16/day; Fibron to get</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">rid of toxins, 9/day; Metaboost, self-explanatory, 4/day, Chandrikaras, to help with the induced menopause symptoms, 16/day; Brainto, 4/day. I also take 2 capsules of curcumin with black pepper, 1 capsule vitamin D-3, 1 of Indome-</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">3-carbinol (to control hormones), 20 mg CDB and a droplet of CBD oil before bed. 55 pills a day of 100% natural products, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">100% meals made with</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">100% whole, natural, fresh ingredients, meditation and yoga. That’s the only </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">protocol that makes sense to me.</span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0t4_xZUvCKXHpf736W6Qdm4uGI_kouaJ6cRnESjIs8g9suIr_xOlCtsroTcdk8_xfsOAzUrVbPyQwm8gnWPs0eTsvuo6JWxMleTlx0vlVgfJFpg5QpTuTFFDfdL5bXHTP0EoMMvhg5k/s1600/IMG_7008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0t4_xZUvCKXHpf736W6Qdm4uGI_kouaJ6cRnESjIs8g9suIr_xOlCtsroTcdk8_xfsOAzUrVbPyQwm8gnWPs0eTsvuo6JWxMleTlx0vlVgfJFpg5QpTuTFFDfdL5bXHTP0EoMMvhg5k/s320/IMG_7008.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">May all beings be healthy, may those who need to heal do so promptly, may all beings be safe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">#naturalhealing #ayurveda #buddhism #healing #alreadyhealed #trustyourintuition #trustinspace #yoga #meditation #mybodymydecision </span>
Marhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15488341276916624721noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-86313132113171111342020-03-13T11:26:00.000+01:002020-03-16T19:02:07.351+01:00Be mindful of your words<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="655q8-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 19.260000228881836px;">Yesterday was so beautiful, and warm, I had a short interpretation event around the corner from my house, and after it ended, I couldn't resist a walk in the sunshine. As I was walking home on Andrássy, enjoying the sun and the blue sky, feeling quite invincible, despite everything, I ran into a friend I had not seen in a long time. I was happy to see him, and we chatted for a while.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 19.260000228881836px;">This friend is very intelligent, and unfortunately has a know-it-all (or know-it-better-than-anybody-else) tendency. I say this to provide context on what happens next.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 19.260000228881836px;">So naturally, he asked about my health and the treatments I follow. As I informed him of my decision to stop radiation and to not engage in any other "traditional" treatment, he was very surprised. If only he had left it at surprise.... He didn't of course. Instead he went on about what a stupid decision I had taken and went as far as to practically telling me I was going to die because of my choice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 19.260000228881836px;">I have had it with this people.</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 19.260000228881836px;">Please understand the following: EVERYONE DESERVES RESPECT. Everyone's decision deserve respect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The process of decision making when you suffer from a serious disease is excruciating. I cannot even explain how many tears I've cried wondering what to do. I felt completely helpless and abandoned, alone and afraid. Basically, morning was the time to cry. I would wake up, take my supplements and eat breakfast. Then the crushing feeling of uncertainty would attack me, and I would break down and cry, and cry, and cry...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I knew my survival was in my hands. No one to counsel me, no one to sit next to me while I weighted the options. No one to talk about it and cry over it. It was my burden and mine alone, and I bore it terribly</span>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">At the same time, one of the oncologists I met with told me I was running out of time. If I were to do any treatment at all, it had to be now, and that is how I felt obligated to do radiation therapy. However, some issues happened. The oncologist in Miami accepted after several weeks of pressure from my side, that maybe the test results confused the sides of the tumors, which meant that I might have irradiated the wrong side of my body 10 times. She wrote to say maybe they will test my biggest tumor again, but never again responded to my emails. Neither did my Miami surgeon. All in all, I've been abandoned by most doctors (local oncologist refusing to work with me because I don't want to do chemo or hormone therapy), so my feelings of abandonment are quite justified, I think.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Anyway, this "maybe we confused the sides" was the final push I needed to stop radiation. My skin was burning, I was starting to experience important pain in the left axilla, and I felt exhausted all the time. This simply was not "me".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">I would never dream of approaching someone who's decided to do chemo, radiation and hormone therapy, etc. and tell them: "You should stop. You are weakening your body and immune system and you will die because of making such a poor choice." Although that is clearly my opinion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">In my case, my decision was taken very carefully, after speaking to many doctors, researching the drugs they were proposing, thinking, meditating, thinking again, reading, and analyzing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">I wonder how many cancer patients taking chemo, radiation and hormone therapy have given it so much effort and thought, I can assume very few. See, cancer is a very scary diagnosis. Most people struggle to stay in control and sometimes undertaking this research is way too much for them. Also, challenging the establishment is not for everyone... (somehow I've always excelled at this, hehe).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">I know because I felt this way as well. In fact, after receiving my own diagnosis, I think my life went up in the air for a while. I couldn't keep my routines, I felt so scattered that I had no discipline to study or work, or do anything reasonably, really. I was lucky at the time, I could rely on the support of someone close who cooked for me, took me out on bike rides in nature, to the beach, even to doctors' appointments and made me forget the live or die sensation that had taken hold of me. This helped my mental health a lot. Maybe it would have also helped my decision-making process but who knows... he was not there at that time, and it was definitely the hardest process I've ever gone through. I guess I was meant to go through it alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">All I can say now, one week after making that decision, is I don't cry anymore. I found peace. I made a decision that resonates with my inner wisdom, with my gut, with my mind. I've found that my inner Buddha supports me and talks to me quite clearly through my intuition. I feel aligned with myself and full of trust in space, in my process, in life... My beautiful friend Celina helped me find an "integrative" oncologist, whom I hope to meet today. Hopefully this woman will help me navigate these troubled waters respecting my decision and supporting me all along the way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=921821827882958167" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">I know my friends are very smart. I wouldn't have you any other way! But often, I've found that intelligence should be reined in by compassion. You might have all the knowledge in the world, if you cannot find a way to communicate it to others, what good can it do them or you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13.5pt;">For a moment after meeting this friend, I was shaky. But I refused to ponder his ideas of me dying from staying away from the western treatments. In my heart, this is what makes sense. Respect it. My being at peace with it surely is more important than you speaking your piece.</span></div>
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Marhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15488341276916624721noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-26188074438777283692020-02-27T10:38:00.001+01:002020-02-27T21:45:49.166+01:00East or West<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-hyphenate: none;">
<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In my cancer journey I have been confronted with
many difficult decisions. Since I am away from my family and friends, I can
only rely on my own intuition and inner wisdom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Decisions such as what treatment to follow are the
hardest. The medical community varies in their approach, whether they are in El
Salvador, the US or Hungary, and are sometimes a bit contradictory, which can
contribute to feelings of confusion and anxiety, a lot of fear of making the
wrong choice and dying from it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">However the advice Western medicine has for breast
cancer patients is pretty much the same everywhere: poison your body with
chemotherapy, then proceed to burn it with radiation and please don’t forget to
insert a hormonal time bomb by either removing your ovaries or inducing
menopause.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I am both horrified and terrified of all of the
above.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The highest blessing in my life has been the
contact with the dharma, the teachings Buddha gave to the world 2600 years ago.
In spite of coming to us millennia ago, these teachings are still relevant in
the world of today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Through my practice of dharma I have come in
contact with very high lamas and have received their blessing and advice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I am not talking about wishy-washy ideas that
present themselves as alternative medicine. I am talking about Eastern wisdom
and a medical science that has been healing people for thousands of years,
without poison or burning or aggravating one’s condition with unnecessary pain
or difficulties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Most of the Western doctors I have spoken to in the
past six months have been appalled at my determination *NOT* to have
chemotherapy, and several have felt offended by my doubts and a few have been
less than respectful to me when I’ve expressed my doubts and tried digging deeper with my
many questions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Following the advice of a Buddha, I’ve decided to
follow an Ayurvedic treatment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">This feels true in my deep self. <u>I trust it with my
life</u>, quite literally.</span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It doesn’t mean it’s easy. The limitations are
many. But it feels right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="PL" style="font-family: "liberation serif" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Anyway, what to trust more? The advice of a Buddha
who sees everything in every situation, or that of a doctor who only sees
statistics (which by the way do not include me)?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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I'll just follow my heart.<br />
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Marhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15488341276916624721noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-82622764761795189002020-02-26T17:59:00.001+01:002020-02-26T18:07:49.194+01:00Strengthening my immune system<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I realize I haven't written a blog post in like.... forever! So,
it is hard to make up for all the time that I stayed silent. So much has
happened I wouldn't know where to start, so instead of starting at the
beginning, I'll just start with wherever I am at right now. If I later feel the
urge to fill up the gaps, we'll see, but for now —and as a brief
introduction to this post— let me just say: I was diagnosed with bilateral
breast cancer about 5 months ago. I had a double mastectomy with immediate
reconstruction in November, all of the above, while living in Miami (!!!) but I
am back home in Hungary now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Finding myself in such a situation, dealing with uncertainty and trying to make
the right BIG decisions, a deep sense of loneliness pervades me. I don't know
where to turn for advise, or for a gentle pat in the back, or some sort of
confirmation about my choices. I don't know anyone here who's gone through the
same process, and relying solely on myself can be exhausting...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Therefore, I joined a few breast cancer support groups on Facebook, I simply
couldn’t find one in Budapest adequate for me language-wise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">There was a post about how to
strengthen the immune system, a valid question when enduring treatments I don't
really know if I trust. One of the contributions resonated deeply within me. It
said, “work with your mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Wow! Well, isn’t that what I’ve
been trying to do for the past 15 years or more?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Work with my mind. It sounds
easy and everyone talks about visualization and the law of attraction and about
manifestation. The truth is that things are not so clear cut. They say
cancer is an emotional disease. And I actually feel so many different things
now, enough to keep my mind very busy trying to work it all out. It's up and
downs every day. What seems like a fine morning can easily turn into a crying
marathon, and vice versa, a difficult morning can become a beautiful day full
of hope and happy sensations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">So much for balance. But who
ever said that working with our mind is easy?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I remember the summer of 2012,
when Karmapa gave us the initiation on Dzambala in Becske. He said, “abundance
is good health” and I remember thinking something in the lines of “come on!
What I need is money!” Oh well... now it’s the other way around and I think of
my foolish younger self with compassion. Little did I know...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">In the end, all I can do is whisper to my
cells in a soft, humble voice: “Thank you for healing me.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Marhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15488341276916624721noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-87772273674912926702017-10-25T15:46:00.003+02:002017-10-25T16:06:22.578+02:00I'm back (in more ways than one)Two years without posting... Wow!<br />
<br />
Truth is I was struggling on many fronts, trying to make a professional breakthrough and sailing rough waters in my private life.<br />
<br />
I think I may have reached an equilibrium point, and that I am ready now to come back to my blog, to write and share my aha moments. Why did I start this blog? I guess I was so very inspired by my travels, by my decision to start a new life for me and my girls, that I needed to share it. I am still inspired, but more generally by my life. My practice, my teacher, my Buddhist community, my family are all blessings in my life which give me so much. My cup overflows.<br />
<br />
I don't think that going over the past two years would make sense. My life has changed a lot. Suffice to say I am in a better place now. Liberated from an exhausting relationship, hopeful professionally and full of blessings and light.<br />
<br />
The past few months have been interesting. I have traveled a lot, renewed old friendships and made new ones. I fell in love and harvested a broken heart. But that's ok. I realized I was walking the same road, only with a different person. I don't want to fall into the same old traps. I am ready for the fresh and the new. So I lick my wounds and lift up my chin and look onwards. As long as I am alive, there is joy to be found in the world, and I am deeply committed to happiness. Never again shall I allow someone to diminish or manipulate me. I vow to be vigilant. I am back on track and I take the reins of my life and of my happiness.<br />
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<br />Marhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15488341276916624721noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-3667700587016993902015-07-07T18:04:00.000+02:002015-07-07T18:08:49.657+02:00Impermanence, friend or foe?I remember a friend telling me how for her Buddhism made sense when she understood the concept of impermanence. As I considered her comment, I realized that impermanence has been a part of my life for a very long time.<br />
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My father died when I was 13 years old. At that time, I couldn't imagine this could ever happen to anyone. Of course, I heard about tragic things happening around the world, even in Paris fires would happen, and car accidents, but my life was so perfect and protected, I could never imagine this would change.<br />
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But change it did. In fact my life was shattered when my father was diagnosed with cancer and died merely 6 months later. Nothing was ever the same. My small world was destroyed, my mother and I moved to a different country, a different continent, a different culture and language and it was extremely hard for me to adapt.<br />
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But I did adapt in the end. El Salvador became my home and I lived there many years and built a life for myself and my children.<br />
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However when I became a Buddhist I realized impermanence has been part of my life for a very long time... so when the Buddhist teachers spoke about it, it wasn't earth-shattering, it was right there inside me, a natural concept, one I understood all too well.<br />
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After my father died, I continued experimenting loss. My boyfriend died when I was 17, later my grand mother and then a very dear friend my own age. To say I am well acquaintanced with death is quite the understatement.<br />
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I also lost my home in Paris, and later other homes followed, and with them friends, familiar settings and routines. I eventually came back to Europe, and I am now living in Budapest, Hungary, trying to make a new life for me and my girls, trying to settle in, to make friends, to grow professionally and to feel at home, since I don't really know where home is.<br />
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But impermanence is more than a liberating concept that we learn when we become Buddhists "<i>Everything will change</i>" or "<i>This too shall pass</i>". It is a constant feeling of possibilities, and not the comforting type. It is the possibility of loss... at any moment, in any way, all the time.<br />
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I often reflect on the possibility of my own death, and how this would affect my girls, my mother and all those who love me. I often reflect on their death, and how this could happen right now, in this very second, and there is nothing one can do about it.<br />
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I am not comforted by this. I am not traumatized by it either. I just think about it more frequently than other people do, I guess. I also have a tendency to have the darkest worst-case-scenario come to mind quite quickly if my daughters or my husband don't answer the phone.<br />
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I had an accident recently. It was a small accident, but it required hospitalization, and it involved a lot of pain. This was not pleasant, of course, but not that big a deal in the end. What really makes me tick though is how it makes me think so morbidly about my health, and of course, the possibility of dying.<br />
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And so here it is, once more... the confrontation with my own impermanence, the possibility of death staring at me in the face, making me feel like the ground is collapsing under my feet, and I realize this is not the Buddhist impermanence. This is the opposite, this is fear.<br />
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The reality of things is there is no safety net. Yet, after so many years, I still don't know how to deal with impermanence, or how to make it become my friend.<br />
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<br />Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-55054809834823472332014-03-30T11:40:00.000+02:002014-03-30T11:49:45.102+02:00On the quality of meditationI recently read this quote from the Buddhist teacher <a href="http://www.diamondway-buddhism.org/buddhist-teachers/hannah-nydahl/">Hannah Nydahl</a>:<br />
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"<i>In practice, quality and quantity are united. Quality gives depth to the practice, it is connected with understanding, deep motivation, dedication to the teacher and compassion for other beings. Quantity means a consistent habit to not be lazy and using a little more time for practice than is comfortable for us at present. This will always be rewarded. <a href="http://karmapa.org/history/the_karmapas/karmapa9.htm">Ninth Karmapa Wangchuk Dorje</a> said, "If you meditate, strengthening diligence when confronted with difficulties, you wiil get rewards in the form of incredible qualities</i>."<br />
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I have already understood that quantity is important. The more we push ourselves to sit on the cushion, the better. Sometimes our busy schedules don't allow for as much time as we'd like, but arrangements can always be made to increase our time. Waking up one hour earlier is an option, although not welcomed by everyone. It is also possible to use any "window" of time that opens up to us.<br />
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A friend of mine spends an incredible amount of time meditating. He has a full time job, but uses whatever free time he gets for meditation and ends up accumulating hours each day. Of course, this is not about putting hours upon hours of meditation every single day. It is about giving it your best, even if that means 20 minutes instead of 3 hours. The point Hannah Nydahl makes in her quote, I think, is the importance of meditating "a little more time" than what feels comfortable. Once again our teachers push us to <a href="http://purelandresident.blogspot.hu/2014/02/outside-comfort-zone.html">go beyond our comfort zone</a>, where all the magic appears.<br />
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What really shook my neurones this time however, was the comment regarding quality. As Buddhist practitioners, of course we feel a deep devotion to our teacher, and we work with compassion, spreading it more and more around us as we develop. But what is real quality in meditation?<br />
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As my friend Réka - who is a traveling teacher from Hungary - explained at a lecture a couple of days ago, it is only natural for thoughts to constantly emerge in our mind during our meditation sessions. However, meditation is about resting in the here and now, and the thoughts that arise in our mind are rarely conducive to "here and now", but are much more likely to take us to yesterday, tomorrow, or to the possibility of tomorrow. <br />
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Instead of following the waterfall of thoughts, which is our most natural response, we should simply notice the thought, and go back to the Buddha. It is a simple shift in our attention, and it transforms it into awareness. This of course requires discipline. But as practitioners we already know a bit about creating positive habits, so pushing a little bit more is simply taking the next logical step. The first reward we will reap is a focused meditation, which feels much shorter than a dissipated one, and gently invites us to stay longer in the practice. <br />
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Then, quite simply, and almost effortlessly, quantity and quality meet.<br />
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More about <a href="http://www.hannahthefilm.com/hannah/">Hannah Nydahl</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline !important; float: none; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span> Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-12904139959929294422014-02-18T17:46:00.001+01:002014-02-18T17:46:41.066+01:00Do you judge your meditation?Of course you do, and you're not alone!<br />
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Over and over we hear our meditation teachers tell us not to "judge" our meditations. But of course, we all do. It's always somewhere between the "What a great meditation!" and the "This was terrible".<br />
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We are all trying to be "good" buddhist and students, we want to practice the different methods, we want to become better parents, better partners... better people! We want to stop experimenting anger, or pride, or to recognize these emotions as soon as they are triggered so we no longer cave in and produce negative karma... We want to be worthy of the Lama, we want to become Buddhas!<br />
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Sometimes I am so disappointed at my meditation I wonder if I meditated at all.... Was I actually meditating? or did I just sit there, letting the thoughts go wild while I repeated a mantra like a parrot. Yes... I can be pretty hard on myself.<br />
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I recently asked a meditation teacher about these experiences, and whether "they counted" as meditation or not. With lots of compassion he said they do. "When it comes to our practice - he said - whatever we did is done." And of course he said not to judge our meditations... yes... I know...<br />
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I am working on this now, on sitting on the cushion to do my thing, as best as I can, and then just stand up and leave the cushion behind. No further thoughts, whatever I did is done. Seriously, I am!<br />
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So there was I Sunday evening, in our Buddhist Center gompa, happily meditating away, while other friends were doing their own stuff; when in walked a man with his three year old little girl. Quietly he took her around the room, shoing her the Buddhas on our altar and the different thangkas on the walls. He was very respectful of us and whispered quietly. But a three year old is a three year old. She could appreciate that her father was whispering, and she answered in whispers also; but mainly she saw a big, long room, all to herself. She started running to and fro, giggling, she went up to the altar and grabbed a mala (what a wonderful toy!), and daddy sat down somewhere and left her to it.<br />
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I will be fair, she wasn't being noisy, but she wasn't quiet either. She was running around, not loudly, but still... running around. To say I was irritated would be just. I was. And the more time they spent there, the more frustrated I got... My mind was giving me pictures of the carpeted area full of toys, devoted to children in our cafeteria, a mere 100 meters away, and I was <b>seriously </b>wondering why this man could not simply realize that a more appropriate place lied in the next room.<br />
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Changing rapidly, I next had images of my daughters, years ago, when I first discovered the Dharma. And how much I wanted to share it all with them, how touched I was when they would mumble a mantra, or stroke a statue. All in all, my meditation was a <b><u>disaster</u></b>.<br />
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As all this intense drama unfolded between my ears, the guy simply sat there, on the carpet and watched his girl run happily to and from the altar. As I followed her with my gaze I saw the statue of the particular Buddha aspect I was meditating on, and somehow was able to resume my concentration. I repeated the mantra a little louder than before and closed my eyes tightly. I focused on the visualization of this perfect Buddha form and suddenly the little girl, her father, and actually the whole room was gone.<br />
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For a delicious time I enjoyed one of the most focused meditations I have ever practiced. What a joy! (yes, I know, I am still judging.)<br />
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As I came out of the gompa, I met the papa and the little girl. I sat next to them and stroke her soft hair, and in halting and clumsy Hungarian started a conversation. His very first words were an apology. I told him how frustrated I had been, and he further thanked my patience. I said I was anything but patient, but explained what happened after, and how much more intense my experience had been thanks to their visit. I thanked him. He smiled and went on to explain in great detail why he had taken his child to see the Buddhas, unfortunately, I didn't understand much of that. We later said goodbye and he enthusiastically congratulated me on my command of the language... basically that was the only part I really understood.<br />
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Haha!<br />
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What a great meditation!!! :)<br />
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Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-15052058319829025682014-02-12T10:14:00.000+01:002014-02-12T10:18:06.272+01:00Outside the comfort zoneSo we've all heard it before... "Development happens beyond the comfort zone". Especially in the Diamond Way Buddhist Centers, we hear it everyday because our teacher, Lama Ole Nydahl, continuously advises us to follow his example and go "beyond the comfort zone". In fact I've heard this so often that I truly believed I understood what it meant.<br />
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After all it's pretty straightforward, isn't it? going beyond the comfort zone means taking on challenges, facing difficulties, turning suffering into dramatic and profound insights, and embracing changes through adaptation. So yes, I thought I knew all about it... After all I'm quite the expert at adaptation... right?<br />
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Well, last weekend a very inspiring teacher gave a few talks in our Budapest Buddhist Center. During one of his teachings, I had one of the famous Aha! moments that carry the potential for changing our lives. As simple as it may seem to others, my clear insight moment revealed what it meant for me to go beyond the comfort zone...<br />
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In my very own little personal universe being beyond the comfort zone means braving the winter cold; it also means "no ocean"; it means a very strange foreign language, and it means my closest most beloved friends are very, very far away; so is my mom's house, her embrace, and her kitchen. As a matter of fact all of my favorite kitchens are far away and beyond reach, as are beloved and familiar places. My habits no longer hold true in this "beyond the comfort zone" place I call home now. My favorite pizza is unreachable, as is my best friend, my confident, my always wise adviser, and when I have real problems, there is no running over to her to spill the beans, to share my deepest feelings, or my unconfessed fears.<br />
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This makes it very difficult for me to run away from my troubles, from my pain, there's no one left to complain to, because frankly Skype and Facebook are useful at keeping in touch, but not really at "being miserable together", if there is such a thing...<br />
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So what happens when there's no where left to hide? what do you do when all your established safety systems are all out of reach? Where do you go then?<br />
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It turns out there is only one place left...<br />
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I don't think it had ever made as much sense as it does now... but in the absence of the familiar outlets for my periods of unrest, what I do now when there is pain is meditate. When there is doubt I meditate. When I feel like complaining on and on... I meditate. When I am angry, I meditate. When I am unsure and afraid... you guessed it, I meditate. <br />
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And it works so well, because this is where comfort is found ultimately, and yes, this is where development
happens, because there is only one place left to turn for refuge, and
that Refuge is giving us everything.<br />
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So, as I reach out to this deeper place, my fears subside, my doubts are set to rest, my pain is soothed, there is nothing to complain about, and there is nothing to accomplish. I open my eyes stronger than before, I see clearly now, if only for a moment, and the vision sustains me until the next sitting.<br />
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Does it mean that there is no more rage, no more tears, no more hesitation in my life? Of course not. This happens again and again... but the hold it had on me once is slowly fading away, and the clarity my Refuge gives me reappears quicker than before. This is why I now welcome these difficult times, because now I know they are the ultimate gift. They happen here and now so I can see them, taste them, and grow beyond them.<br />
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I am braver now, I know I have all the tools needed; so I can take one more little step, go out and explore.<br />
<br />Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-30919034098935376582013-11-22T22:41:00.001+01:002013-11-22T22:41:15.092+01:00ObstaclesThe past couple of years have been hard. Not dramatically so, but hard. Relocating to a different country, where they speak the (apparently second) most difficult language in the world, building a relationship - a marriage!!! bringing my two daughters to live with us, and trying to get everyone to get along, working 9 to 5 at a job I hated, earning less money than... I don't even remember making so little money... And to think I used to complain about my income in El Salvador... It was divided by four when I came to live in Budapest, and it wasn't easy.<br />
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But of course a lot of wonderful things happened... I relocated to a different, exotic country, I took on the challenge of learning the second most difficult language in the world, I am married to the greatest man alive, who has become a natural second father to my two beautiful, sweet daughters, I quit a horrible 9 to 5 job that I hated, and decided to set up a freelancing business...<br />
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And I would say I have quite an amazing life, I live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world (decidedly!), in a cozy and warm little flat with my loving family. I have made new friends. I feel more and more at home in Budapest day by day. I am excited about my new business, although I have never been a business woman before. And it's a learning process.<br />
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In El Salvador I had a growing, successful career. I had a professional reputation and made good money doing something I both enjoyed and was good at. I was a simultaneous interpreter. I was in and out of super interesting conferences, or airplanes, meeting Heads of States or of huge Corporations, and working by their side. Going on the field to the rural areas, connecting to people with realities so different than mine. From a UN conference to a glacier in the Andes... Yes, I loved my job.<br />
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But I never had to really make that happen, my good friends Ute and Gretel, as well as others, who were true business women and owned top-of-the-industry translation agencies were the ones giving me the jobs. I did get a few contracts on my own here or there, but basically I just relaxed and enjoyed... Unfortunately, neither Ute nor Gretel are operating in Hungary, and after one year as a regular Multinational employee, devoting my days to meaningless tasks, I decided something had to change. So I did.<br />
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Of course there was a miracle, as it always happens when you're a true Pure Land Resident, and the miracle was a 6-weeks contract in El Salvador. The money I made there is buying me the time to set up my new venture, and hopefully turn my life around and be a huge success... (Make strong wishes friends!) So I spend a lot of time sitting at my desk, working like never before. Who would have known setting up a business could be so hard? Then came the first opportunity, 2 days in late November, in the French booth. I promptly confirmed my availability and smiled big. This was not so hard after all! The date came and passed with no further news from the recruiter. No answers to my emails...<br />
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I know it happens... Events fall apart, busy people forget to answer emails... But to say I wasn't disappointed would be a lie.<br />
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Yesterday, as I was stepping into the Gompa at our Buddhist Meditation Center, a wonderful friend, who is also launching herself as an interpreter (Hungarian-German) told me she got a job in a few weeks. She was joyful and excited.<br />
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It immediately brought me back to my own "event" and how it didn't come through... I was almost jealous for a minute, but the faithful sign on the entrance of our gompa, which reads this gentle reminder:<br />
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made me realize I was not jealous at all. I am just used to believe in my emotions. In truth, I felt genuinely happy for my friend! I realized how what happened to me was just a simple obstacle, like one of the many I've had to face since moving to Budapest, or worse... since birth :)<br />
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The XVIth Gyalwa Karmapa, Living Buddha of Tibet and leader of the Karma Kagyu lineage once said "<i><b>When you do things, then obstacles will come and you can go through them. Obstacles are a sign of success</b></i>".<br />
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So here I go, steady on the road to success.Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-81234895101265390382012-01-07T01:01:00.000+01:002012-01-07T01:01:01.985+01:00The very bad horseIn one of the Sutras the Buddha talks about the four kinds of horses: there is the excellent horse, the good horse, the poor horse and the very bad horse. The excellent horse moves before the whip even touches its back; just the shadow of the whip or a sound from the driver is enough to make the horse move. The good horse runs at the slightest touch of the whip on its back. The poor horse doesn't go until it feels pain, and the very bad horse doesn't bulge until the pain penetrates to the marrow of its bones.<br />
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I came to Europe approximately 3 weeks ago. And for most of that time, I have been a Very Bad Horse.<br />
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Somehow the separation from my family has been brutal. I understand at a very rational level that it is the psychological effect of "coming to stay". But the heart is seldom rational, and the memory of my child's face or voice has plunged me repeatedly into the abyss of distress. I have also missed my mother, the comfort of her home, the warmth of the linen on the beds, the smells of the kitchen, the flowers in the garden, the special way the sun touches the window. Every single little thing has made me feel homesick... An interesting affair when you were as eager to leave as I was.<br />
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Then, the death-blow... my best friend is diagnosed with cancer, and I am here, impotent, looking at my computer screen and wanting to jump out of my skin. How can something like this happen when I am so helpless and useless... But it does.<br />
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All this while, and for 16 days and 16 unbearable nights, I have the FLU, and I mean it in capital cases. I do not sleep at night, because I am too busy coughing, sneezing or snorting disgustingly. My boyfriend doesn't sleep either, and probably has the very urgent instinctive need to choke me or suffocate me with a pillow at the very least. Yet, praise his heart, he doesn't, but rather takes gentle care of me. I wish I could say his love cured me, but it didn't. Fevers came and went, sore throat at bed time, sorer in the morning. Mucus my constant and revolting company. And my mood just kept improving.<br />
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Christmas came and went, together with a quite frank speech from a concerned boyfriend who gently but firmly crossed every T and dotted every I. So I faced the new year with a strong decision: Stop complaining, stop the bleeding wounds, stop the heartaches... just STOP.<br />
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January 1st finds me in the Gompa, resolutely doing prostrations, cough or no cough, pain or no pain. I continue to ache at different times, when I see little children with their mothers for example, or see pictures of smiling little girls. I still miss my mom and my heart goes out to my best friend every single day. But the point is not to deny these emotions. The point is to accept they are there and go on. The point is, when you find yourself to be the very bad horse, you get inspired and try harder.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTMqeq5pXPWRJicH2FFCYHljYsOpMlvuHdwuRJ6kORTTo_KY0JfuO6C4AiklG1mur3Y_zZi6sKSs3MuN0e9W4HDhLm3hhCZpPX6BSoM14fAJ_CVsU_8BcEngVZuyHIobfC-3195FbaZo/s1600/horse1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTMqeq5pXPWRJicH2FFCYHljYsOpMlvuHdwuRJ6kORTTo_KY0JfuO6C4AiklG1mur3Y_zZi6sKSs3MuN0e9W4HDhLm3hhCZpPX6BSoM14fAJ_CVsU_8BcEngVZuyHIobfC-3195FbaZo/s320/horse1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-59863794289141636792011-11-23T23:48:00.001+01:002011-11-23T23:52:16.333+01:00A jokeAs I check my email rapidly - I don't have much time, I am in the translation booth and the topic is quite technical, no time to waste on Facebook and other timewasting devices... (yet here I am, ok...) Anyways, I open my email and find the strangest email ever. A Catholic group has my name in their mailing list and have been sending regular emails lately. Today I got two, and the last one makes me smile.<br />
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They are kindly letting me know that someone died and are now inviting me to messes, I assume, I didn't finish reading the thing before I deleted it. I am not smiling because someone died, although death happens all the time and shouldn't be considered so gravely when you are sure the soul will go to heaven. I guess the possibility of hell is to blame for all the solemnity. Anyway, what was funny was the wording of the email. Apparently the departed was someone's grandfather, someone they call "Consecrated". It was literally something like this: Our consecrated jane doe's grand father has died, please join our prayers, bla, bla bla...<br />
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It might not even be funny. I guess what I am laughing at in the end is how completely crazy this sounds to me, personally. And how these crazy things were completely out of my head after just a few months in Europe as a resident of the Pure Land, following my lama with my sangha all over central Europe, and later living in a Buddhist Center in Budapest.<br />
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I had forgotten what it was like to live in a country where there is no Church-Government separation (except on paper, somewhere on the Constitution), since the church has the power to collect biology books from all schools because there is chapter speaking of masturbation and homosexuality (the horror!!!), and also condemns AIDS awareness programs if condoms are distributed. Please understand I am not trying to offend anybody, I do not consider these things to be either good or bad, these are simply facts. This is a country where all presentable people are either Catholics or Protestants, where many carry a bible under the arm and are able to accurately quote from it, and where Buddhism is just a word, and not a well understood one.<br />
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I am not complaining or condemning. Just stating the fact. To be cool in this country, my young teenage daughter considers it necessary to participate in a Catholic youth group, however in disagreement she may be with the general dogmas of the Catholic church. She is my daughter, and has grown-up watching me meditate and practice Yoga, two practices heavily condemned by the Catholic church. She is inevitably a product of my meditation and has been brought-up to have a broad mind where she can understand and accept others, be empathetic and open. What I wish for her is a culture where you don't need religious affiliations to be cool, where you are free to believe and think what you want.<br />
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Freedom is a good thing.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmD2xksBR-t_tMb6jBobmqJfMLfAZ_tk1C_8l5ca00OMhZAVa6AYurK5ipbsyRh6f6MBgDD1yx4YKsYnw90ffc78yN_H2BgW7Wm_7GWwH1B6iSzn96_LY516vEigMnqKs-aK0tLNN4hDk/s1600/optimism.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmD2xksBR-t_tMb6jBobmqJfMLfAZ_tk1C_8l5ca00OMhZAVa6AYurK5ipbsyRh6f6MBgDD1yx4YKsYnw90ffc78yN_H2BgW7Wm_7GWwH1B6iSzn96_LY516vEigMnqKs-aK0tLNN4hDk/s320/optimism.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-37456624713403852582011-11-17T04:52:00.002+01:002011-11-17T20:43:39.253+01:00e=mc2It's been a while.<br />
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Ever since I came home, things have been a bit hectic, emotion-wise, and I have been intensely "with me", meaning I haven't been overly social, actually I must admit, I've rather been behaving a bit hermit-like.I wouldn't say I've been sad, or overly disturbed by the situations unfolding around me, but I haven't been totally indifferent either. Change has been the only constant and I try to ride it with as much detachment as possible, thinking little about problems but feeling them all the same. Many issues coincided, and I was facing purification left and right. My inspiration was the first to suffer, although I had many ideas to share with you all, I just couldn't get myself to actually put them into words.<br />
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While I wouldn't say I have suffered, I must admit these past few weeks were difficult. It's not easy when things don't go as you planned. When your well-thought-out, well-organized and prepared projects just don't follow our predictions (projections?). In retrospect, it would seem that this is what the whole lesson was about: Things don't always fit our expectations. Boom! I hear an echo from the summer's teachings: "Don't have expectations!" Our lama keeps repeating to us. It is a stupid waste of our time. Yet I must say it also a good opportunity to look at ourselves more closely.<br />
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And everything has not been a loss. I must admit I have never before in my adult life spent as much quality time with my mother. I can feel the improvement, and although we still don't always see eye to eye (I sort of suspect, we'll never actually see eye to eye, in fact, I fear on some issues we will forever remain in well separated corners), we enjoy being with each other. The beginning was tough, it was as if my mom was very subtly complaining about all my months of absence, and wanted me to make good for lost time in a matter of hours (minutes, please?). But I feel we've finally asserted ourselves in comfortable positions where I am more able and willing to give than ever before, and she is open as she hadn't been in a long time. It's good.<br />
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My kids are also on top of things with my self inflicted reclusion. They get to see me ALL the time (probably TOO MUCH time for my adorable teenager, but just perfect for my youngest!). We sleep, eat, play, dream, joke, cook, drink, study, read, and almost bathe together. It's not too much for me either. I'm just fine with it, (although my teenager I would probably like to lock in a closet sometimes, but it's part of the story and I always knew these days would come, just please promise me it won't happen with the other one as well!!!!), so definitely, there are upsides to the whole confinement situation.<br />
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However, I have been trying so hard to focus only on the good parts and outperform the misery, that I think I just forgot I am suppose to work on this, to do the magic, to use the methods and turn coal into gold. Or better! into diamonds. As I was meditating one morning, finally lightning struck. I could suddenly understand that I have not managed to ignore ANY of my suffering, that I have actually suffered, am suffering right now, and will probably continue to do so until I acknowledge the fact that the only thing that's hurting is my own expectation of things. That it was stupid of me to actually build and have these expectations. That when you lose something, you're actually NOT losing anything. That all is good in the world (yes!), and that deep inside I have nothing to worry about (yikes! really?)<br />
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I remembered that disturbing emotions are not rocks and bumps to be avoided, rather they are truly the fuel on which wisdom runs, and I realized I was quite lucky to be able to burn all this before it did any more harm. Buddha's present is infinite and unmeasurable. I had forgotten it, but now, I remember. I am suddenly brought back a few months into the past, at a time of great confusion and suffering, when I thought I might have committed an act of folly and that my heart would never heal from its longing. I remember how deeply I felt it then, how profoundly I connected with my pain, and how quickly I allowed for it to heal. That's really what it takes, to accept our shortcomings as what they are, and stop blaming everyone and everything else. Things are the way they are, and that's not so bad if one takes a good look. Everything happens for a reason and we can only accept this and move on.<br />
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I decide not too linger on my own flaws, I see them clearly and also move on, little can be learned from self-recrimination. Eyes wide open it's easy to see the emptiness of phenomena, and how little weight the small tragedies have on the big picture of our lives. Just a few months have passed, and my life has changed drastically, of course not only the areas that I wanted to change changed, some changes I couldn't foresee took place, and I decide to start considering everything as evolution. After all, my life is blessed, full of prosperity, health, love, and blessings, so what if some people stay behind, if some chapters close, if some moves entail some suffering. Success comes to the bold, the dreamers who dare to make their dreams come true, come what may.<br />
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After that sad bump in the summer, I found myself at a Phowa course experimenting the wildest of disturbing emotions: desire/attachment. Without seeing it coming I had become slightly obsessed over a handsome stranger that kept locking eyes with me, but who never approached me, for his life. I wanted him and no other, and could not understand the sad fate that would not bring this man to me. After a couple of days of more and more miserable longing, a cute, funny guy sat next to me in the course. We became fast friends and in a surprising turn of events I found myself one night happily entangled with this young man in Carina's tent. After a most satisfying and entertaining night, we said goodbye, as my new friend was leaving the course early. With a sweet and spontaneous speech, he wished me good luck, may I soon enjoy many nights like the one we had just shared, good-humoured and loving, may this bring me happiness. As you all know, his wishes worked. I can't complain of the gifts that came my way afterwards, and I think of my good friend with unending gratitude. May all his wishes come true for him as well.<br />
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Not only did he teach me that the greatest joy comes from wishing the best for others, he also gave me the ultimate teaching: although we generally believe we know quite well what's best for us, if we release our own projections for a minute and open up to space, the results will be much more than we ever hoped for, even if they surprise us greatly. It's once again a matter of absolute trust.<br />
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Smiling while in the heart of the Red Buddha, these lessons are quite easy to appreciate. Reconnecting with the blissful nature of space proved a little bit more difficult locked-up in my mother's house in San Salvador, sulking with grief over the idea of lost friends and the resulting disappointment, and worried about the future as to money-issues and the impending separation from my family. Yet, by simply bringing it to my mind, the joy of the Phowa meditation is once again all over me, and I can effortlessly connect with the nature of bliss, and reclaim it as my birth right.<br />
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It's all very well to have emotions and to understand them, even better if we let wisdom surge also from the process, yet it's even better to play them down in order to focus on what's real through and through, the nature of my mind. Once again I take ownership of my reactions. This is MY life after all...<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_DG-kLohUX9y1ldrdHp4UOjjN69lasF2rL7l_PwLhgh6lQIWX8FPBbOsWgCenmHUF4ZC-vsPBX6JwCUI4g656DjNikEfKW0ZWMhgsA3IT3xCNTu6sA1ZCIebuH7rf0xOZPBVgE0_eKw/s1600/E%253Dmc2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_DG-kLohUX9y1ldrdHp4UOjjN69lasF2rL7l_PwLhgh6lQIWX8FPBbOsWgCenmHUF4ZC-vsPBX6JwCUI4g656DjNikEfKW0ZWMhgsA3IT3xCNTu6sA1ZCIebuH7rf0xOZPBVgE0_eKw/s320/E%253Dmc2.png" width="320" /></a></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-89468965541595469222011-10-24T07:13:00.003+02:002011-10-25T23:57:02.050+02:00The Most Wonderful AdventureI went to the beach today. Ever since I came back, I hadn't even been near the ocean, and it honestly felt good. It felt more than good. So much so that for a while, I truly thought I was in the Pure Land, or what most people would understand as heaven.<br />
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As we were driving to the coast, I could finally remember what it was that I love so much here... It is not the country, which is after all only a name, with unfriendly associations (for me). It is the land... Lush shades of green, high cliffs overlooking the bluest of the bluest, there, where the sky mixes with the ocean...<br />
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And trust me, I have been to many beaches in my life. My travels have taken me all the way to the Indian Ocean, which is magnificent, populated with the most colorful and interesting lifeforms, and on whose shores one finds paradisaical spas and jewels of small hotels, where the life of the tourist is, indeed, heavenly. I have also been to the Caribbean, where you can lay in the water all day while pelicans lounge nearby and you just relax while Piña Colada oozes endlessly into your glass, never half-empty... I've swum with sharks and turtles and rays in the blue waters, and as a child, I was a regular at the Cote d'Azur Mediterranean sea, from the shores of Camargues to the small creek at Théoule-sur-Mer, where I spent most of my summers. I even swam in the cold North Sea, while vacationing at the Oléron Peninsula, or in the Atlantic shores of Bretagne summers. I've walked through the Aegean Sea, in Crete, with a group of buddies, fully clothed, (by the way, that is one of the joyful moments of my life that I will never forget). More recently I even crossed the Baltic Sea with a bunch of Dharma friends, and actually scuba dived - without scubas - in the Adriatic Sea with my boyfriend a couple of months ago. So you could say I know a thing or two when it comes to great masses of water...<br />
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So, my friends, believe me... The Pacific Ocean is something else entirely!!!<br />
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First of all, the name... come on!!! Could it possibly be more enthralling? "Pacific"... that is, of course, the last thing you'd think upon looking at the wild upsurge and breaking of the waves. And yet it is, pacific, in the sense that swimming in these waters transforms you... Today, for example, was magical! As I stood there, staring, in absolute fascination, the Ocean's only witness except for a lone fisherman, some distance away, the waves hit and crashed in almost miraculous ways... I wished I had my camera with me and had been able to catch a special moment, when a tall wall of crystal water rised, fascinating, transparent, only to crash and disappear in the world's largest bubble bath one second later. It was so magnificent, I almost felt like clapping, and although I did not clap, I screamed! I screamed in glee, in wonder and amazement, in gratitude at being there, and then just stripped and ran to the water.<br />
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It was fresh and deep and playful and it opened up to me like a mother to her estranged child. I dived and swam and laughed for a long long time. Both Maïa and Glo came to join me after a while, and we all felt brand new... like somehow the sea had taken all our worries, all our preoccupations, all negativity, all fear to a deep far away abyss, and replaced them with open space... space to be happy, space to be radiant, space to be nothing but to only exist.<br />
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We even flew a kite! Maïa brought hers. It's an orange Koi fish, and it flew high over our heads, brilliant against a deep blue sky. After the afternoon nap, in a brightly colored hammock (oh how I have missed those!), I meditated on the beach, while my kid jumped in the waves at low tide. The sun set and ignited the sea with pink, the sky ablazed... All I could feel was space enveloping me, and time was an illusion, I could only think "If this is not real - and somehow it is not - then mind is truly the most wonderful adventure."<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewA0zfwinA6THeTr-zMMBsTl9UAJnccEwXZY5Pqm38FDTSynYFDzPLCOw38sH3NLaJB-qqJ6RBnzdJfnNsJsTZOfZABdX0L0FU0-xc90nlhaPxFI2ig7i_ZP5OkdnjLQk68zR1mb8TV4/s1600/DSC09773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewA0zfwinA6THeTr-zMMBsTl9UAJnccEwXZY5Pqm38FDTSynYFDzPLCOw38sH3NLaJB-qqJ6RBnzdJfnNsJsTZOfZABdX0L0FU0-xc90nlhaPxFI2ig7i_ZP5OkdnjLQk68zR1mb8TV4/s320/DSC09773.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-1940305368161435772011-10-18T18:26:00.000+02:002011-10-18T18:26:02.368+02:00Mo"If you go back to El Salvador, it will be bad, you must come back here to Europe"<br />
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This was Lama Ole's divination for me, when my doubts attacked me and I asked him whether I should move to Europe or go back to El Salvador.<br />
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As always, he was right.<br />
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My lama knows me, he knows who I am, and what I am capable of. That's all I need.<br />
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The rest, those who also know and hate it, I have no use for.Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-43767029589788109392011-10-18T03:04:00.001+02:002011-10-25T23:58:42.156+02:00So hard<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Stay in the present moment. </span></b></div><br />
Wow! That's so hard!!!! It's so hard to stay in the present moment because I miss my boyfriend so much, and I just keep on thinking about the day I'll finally see him again. It is so hard because there are so many things on my mind that worry me, about whether the rain is going to continue pouring down for another week or not. It is so hard because my daughter has a lovely friend who has many problems at home and I'd like to help. It is so hard because coming back to El Salvador I have had to face so many disappointments and I feel out of place. It is so hard because I've ran out of money and need to make so many expenses. It is so hard because the roads in my country are blocked because bridges have fallen and I had a trip planned I can no longer take. It is so hard because my mother's getting older and I find her so vulnerable. It is so hard because once again I find myself without a Sangha to go to just when I need to meditate so hard. It is so hard because I just want to be elsewhere most of the time. It is so hard because if I were elsewhere I would be worried about my family who would have stayed behind. It is so hard because I don't like my here and now. It is so hard because I miss my boyfriend so much and he is so far away, and there's still such a long time before we see each other again. (Did I say that already?) It is hard because of the many choices that mean I will always be leaving someone behind.<br />
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It is just so damn hard...Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-61775858523416930682011-10-16T02:08:00.001+02:002011-10-16T02:10:14.619+02:00The struggleThe rain doesn't stop falling down, and it reflects my mood to perfection.<br />
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I learned yesterday that the complex and intricate immigration laws of the European Union will not allow me to come back to Hungary until December.<br />
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I try to look at the bright side of things and suppose it means I will have more time to spend with my family and also more time to work at my profession, earning good money that I can later use to invest in building my new life in Europe. But... my mood still is as closed and gray as the sky above, where the rain never stops. I could scream.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenvRpSXc0d0PusDHgWkD7WEZXWfBBWhJ4WBm1f1Md9LWcxhCuj3QzRZtM4WwODu8Ck_XKCFWOU3tshX7u0IxVlcVNQ7NPSeQHFqrHZPnZHhChxwawSxquDtilevRh_6_5R3SHPuevcBU/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenvRpSXc0d0PusDHgWkD7WEZXWfBBWhJ4WBm1f1Md9LWcxhCuj3QzRZtM4WwODu8Ck_XKCFWOU3tshX7u0IxVlcVNQ7NPSeQHFqrHZPnZHhChxwawSxquDtilevRh_6_5R3SHPuevcBU/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I try to distract myself and see my friends, take my kids to the movies, and work on a difficult legal translation I'm in the process of doing. I even try to cook. But the rain doesn't stop falling and my efforts to improve my mood just fall with it. I am angry, irritable, and did I mention it, also PMSy. I feel trapped in a golden cage, where everything looks perfect but it is all a bad joke because I can't leave it.<br />
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I know I am supposed to be a grown-up about this, and act all mature and wise. Focus on the higher view all the time and smile happily because all is well in my world, when it could actually be going so much worse. Literally much worse. Around me, in the whole of Central America, people are dying, losing their homes and everything they hold dear, and we cannot do much to help. Sure we can donate our clothes, our blankets, even some food or medications, but their predicament is still terrible and unforgiving.<br />
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Reflecting on others' misery actually gets me out of my egotistical little world and makes me look at my life in perspective... I am healthy, I am safe, my loved ones are as well, we have a strongly built home, which provides warmth and comfort, and a hot cup of tea is within my reach anytime, heck! even hot chocolate if I want! This should do it.<br />
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Yet, ever so human, my ego refuses to let me go. It screams from deep inside to focus on my own petty dramas, it wants me angry and sad. It needs me insecure and weak, trembling with leaky eyes. It thrives on my discomfort, on my craving for attention. This actually pisses me off even more than anything else. Am I really this basic??? Am I really so shallow??? And the sad answer is yes I am.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Lvl5IwBXBJD9R3KY6NOzpJcFCLRyz4SCoW4BJzujkdgfWOlo5rLWR7D5xuhHY3GDpjkNhyk_UREO0fG0I9vA6KILuOzE1JQjuw1KUki9t4tTUpwZpecQosefGFzIPAYb_IYzFSsnijA/s1600/la-vague-de-Hokusa-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Lvl5IwBXBJD9R3KY6NOzpJcFCLRyz4SCoW4BJzujkdgfWOlo5rLWR7D5xuhHY3GDpjkNhyk_UREO0fG0I9vA6KILuOzE1JQjuw1KUki9t4tTUpwZpecQosefGFzIPAYb_IYzFSsnijA/s1600/la-vague-de-Hokusa-.jpg" /></a></div><br />
But I am also something else. I am also a deep and profound lake of inner peace, a shining female Buddha, who looks lovingly upon the world around. I am a temple of strength, endurance and trust. I am a mountain, tall and unshakable. I am his student, and a devoted practitioner. I am the music, and I am all joy; and I am true love. Even when I forget about it and let the inner storm rage in the oceans of my mind; underneath the surface, a Buddha is smiling. And I suddenly realize... I am smiling too.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghaqXOx2nVOGSfQL7mYpNLNiW0sx1b9W4RrcH1o3BKjsvFLPDP4RkW3sJA4zYqx1FVhqKorctny84ukRoGphsYOSJyKfk0iH1j3LKoE-VABd5P4FcYN7Vm0wTx-NxDLrpr3uBK8XWeQeE/s1600/mer+panama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghaqXOx2nVOGSfQL7mYpNLNiW0sx1b9W4RrcH1o3BKjsvFLPDP4RkW3sJA4zYqx1FVhqKorctny84ukRoGphsYOSJyKfk0iH1j3LKoE-VABd5P4FcYN7Vm0wTx-NxDLrpr3uBK8XWeQeE/s320/mer+panama.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-52888625259343290502011-10-13T23:54:00.007+02:002011-10-14T17:07:21.841+02:00What the Rain Takes Away<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">In today's newspaper I read El Salvador is officially classified as the country most vulnerable to the consequences of ill weather and rain-provoked catastrophes. More than surprised, I was angered by this. I just find it shocking that in a country where the President collects sport cars, and all members of congress earn their weight in gold (quite undeservedly), there is yet not enough money in the government's budget to educate its people. Another thing our government still doesn't understand, even after decades of tropical storms and hurricane seasons that come ALWAYS on the same month of the year, is that there is such a thing as a "Weather forecast". Heck! There's even something called "Hurricane's watch". Yet, apparently, the national meteorological institute has better things to do than to issue timely warnings, I mean, like BEFORE people lose their houses and livestock and need to be evacuated with water up to their waist...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">A couple of years ago, I had the very interesting task of translating into French a study made by a well known international NGO regarding adaptation to climate change in Cuba. What I found fascinating is that, in spite of it being an island, and in spite of the fact that it is the country with statistically more hurricanes than any other in the Latin America and the Caribbean region, it is also the LESS VULNERABLE to these natural catastrophes. It is even more interesting, because Cuba is, in our region, the "elephant in the room". The one shameful communist country, where everyone is poor, with no industry, no food, no nothing. So how do these poor backward Cubans, who supposedly can't get anything right because of their evil government, manage to survive and actually not lose EVERYTHING (as in: their lives) with so many hurricanes hitting their coasts???</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And this NGO was not making anything up, just check this web-site: <a href="http://www.cubahurricanes.org/history-hurricanes-chronicles.php">http://www.cubahurricanes.org/history-hurricanes-chronicles.php</a> where I quote "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;">Hurricanes are the more devastating natural disasters occurred in Cuba during this century and in particular at the cyclone season from October to November. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;">However, only four got a dantesque character because of the human and material lost that it provoked. These four took place before 1959. Four years later, the Cuban government designed and passed a Measure System for Civil Defense of the country. It reduced damages of every type." Yes, four years after 1959, as in "Castro times".</span></span><br />
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</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">So what's going on here? Am I suggesting we all turn to Fidel Castro and become communists ourselves? Please, give me more credit. I will give you more credit also and assume nobody has yet jumped to such a simplistic and stupid conclusion (yet it seems in El Salvador, whenever someones mentions something about Cuba that seems to work well, in spite of the potent anti-Cuba American propaganda, we immediately become the new encarnation of Trotsky, or someone...)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Well the study actually emphasized the importance of education to prevent the most damaging consequences of natural catastrophes. And this also applies to earthquakes, since this area is also prone to this other sort of cataclysmic entertainment. If people are educated, if they are not only able to read and write, but are also capable of abstract thinking, and of reasoning on their own (something our governments are not too excited about, because, then, if the people actually become smarter, what will they say when they realize who their rulers truly are????) Well, that may well be a drawback of educating people, but come on Politicians, it also means </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">you </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">will be more educated, and then maybe smarter... you'll still be able to nail everyone, it will only imply slightly more complex schemes and machinations. But quite honestly, this is really not about you and your power-addictions. This is about the people whose walls collapse with every tropical storm, who lose their children when the rivers overflow, whose chickens, goats and cows drown and leave them with no livelihood. And I'm not even </span>getting<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> into the Dengue and other epidemics...</span></div><div>Yet, think about it this way... Less money invested in reconstructing these already pitiful villages,($837K according to today's newspaper) more money for your pockets! More sport cars mister President! More bodyguards mister Congressman! More fake nails and liposuction for your trophy mistresses!!!</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">How horrible... I am sorry for the sarcasm outburst, but this is just how pissed off I am to see that the years go by, looking exactly the same, and yet our authorities apparently learn next to NOTHING about preventing natural catastrophes. It makes me angry to watch the news and see young mothers cry their eyes out because they lost their babies to a stupid flood. This should not be happening. At least not <b><u><i>all the time</i></u></b>, at least not without learning the lesson. But guess what? As long as people are kept ignorant and stupid, it will. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And no, I won't make the mistake of coming down on the government without offering solutions. The ones I present here come from the study I mentioned before. It's so simple it makes me want to cry. It's like this:</span><br />
<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Formal education, specifically on preparation (as in: What to do/Where to go/What to leave behind/What to take with us when an alert comes out)</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Regular nationwide drills. (Yes, drills. Like the fire drill at school. So simple...)</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Political will from the highest level of decision-making down to the local communities... Communication, the key to every well functioning relationship. This allows for centralized decision-making as well as decentralized execution.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Meteorological forecasts (you'd think everyone knew about this, but...)</span></li>
</ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It's that simple, and yet apparently it's so hard. Good luck El Salvador... I'm so so soooooo sorry.</span><br />
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</span></span></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-32957223483465735992011-10-12T03:22:00.005+02:002011-10-17T07:28:55.490+02:00MovedI am not really sure of how to write this post. I just feel it's important to share what I feel now. Maybe because I've seriously never felt this - and please, I'm not talking about "the depth, or breadth, or heights" of my feelings (to paraphrase Elizabeth Barret Browning), since I strongly believe one should never compare one love to the next - I'm talking about feeling loved, not only <i>in love</i>, but actually <i>loved back</i>.<br />
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You see, I think there is a big difference between <i>falling </i>in love - which is a rather short period of time, and can sometimes sum up the whole of the relationship - and <i>being </i>in love. The latter is what I am, now. "I am aware" of this, like Alanis says in her beautiful song "Head over feet". A song I've come to identify myself with lately.<br />
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As you may remember, I had mixed feeling about leaving Budapest, but ended up <b>trusting</b>, not only the man I love, but also myself, us, our relationship, what we've found in each other, what we're building together. Because I've realized now, we <b>are building something together!!! </b>And that is actually the first time in my life when I've ever had this feeling of joint purpose, of unity, of clan or pack feeling - although we're just two, so maybe these words are not the best choices to describe the situation, but bear with me...<br />
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We said goodbye exactly 17 days ago. That's not the end of the world, fortunately (!!!) but still, it's a long time not to sleep on his shoulder, not to tickle him, not to smell him, not to hold him in my arms... And there's still about 28 days, or more, before I can do all that once more. So I miss him. Yet, this distance (come on people, we're talking about 10,235 kilometers here!!!) is absolutely bearable.<br />
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This is not the first time I am in love with someone who lives far away. In fact, in the past four years, the distance between me and my beloved has averaged a little over 9,280 kilometers, so you see, I am no beginner at this long-distance thing. The one thing I am discovering though, even if I may know the theory from our Teachings, is that distance is only an illusion. (Thank you Skype!).<br />
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My man and I speak to each other everyday, we joke and laugh, we discuss serious business, make decisions, share our little and big everyday things, we send kisses and kiss the camera (real slowly so we can appreciate each other's lips, hihi!), we remind each other how much we love one another, and short of hugging, tickling, smelling and sleeping in each other's arms, we're pretty close to each other all the time.<br />
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Whenever I think of the distance between us, I can only measure it in the traveling hours that I will need to cover in order to be in his arms again (let me tell you there are maaaaany); otherwise, we could be next door to each other. I feel as close to him as ever, if not closer. You see, now he has an insight on the part of my life he could only imagine before... My country, my family, my role as a mother, the personality of my kids, even my cat (yes, this last part he probably could do without, but still...).<br />
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I am really moved to feel so strongly about him, ABOUT US!!! I am moved by his constancy, by his presence, everyday, in my life. I am moved by the tenderness we show each other in spite of... well... the distance (hehe, didn't I just say it was all just an illusion?).<br />
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I am moved by love. :')<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/9G5bC8MA638?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-23537275765997254402011-10-07T19:17:00.001+02:002011-10-09T16:42:20.739+02:00I Go for Refuge to the SanghaToday I had lunch with my friend Lex. Lex lives in San Francisco, and has come to El Salvador for a short time for quite sad reasons. His father just passed away after struggling against an unrelenting cancer. Lex is not the kind of person to get devastated by death. He is a Buddhist as well, and although we have different teachers and schools, he has an understanding of impermanence; he rather spoke to me about his feelings and beliefs. How we are caving in to cancer by living such unhealthy lifestyles, eating every and anything, creating false necessities that drive us to lead such stressful lives, forgetting to honor the necessary balance between nature and modern life, and how this leads more and more people to long sad illnesses.<br />
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I believe him. I believe my friend is right. He was also quite articulate discussing how the christian frame of mind makes you 'accept' and 'surrender' to 'bad things' instead of taking the opportunity to better ourselves and let our true selves shine. He feels this even more strongly because his mother is also a cancer victim, although in remission. We all hope she will never relapse, and I wish her the will to get over this sickness, to actually vanquish it completely, and to shine brightly over her world.<br />
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This topic also brought back memories from long ago, when my own father died of cancer, and how people came to offer their condolences and told me this was 'God's Will'. I remember the rebellion in my heart against a God whose will it was for my father to wither away and die like that... This actually sort of set the pace for my life in this country, to which I had just arrived, but that's a whole other story.<br />
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Lunch with Lex lead to many other interesting conversations. I shared my quasi permanent irritation about being here, and not feeling a part of it anymore, especially in areas close to my heart, and he gave me direct and clear teachings, reminding me how to be compassionate with myself and others, how to truly be useful to others and how to actively embody the values I so strongly advocate.<br />
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Listening to my friend talk about the loss of his father, about how he worries about his mother, about his love for this Earth we all need so desperately and constantly forget about, I suddenly felt my strength coming back to me, and was filled with purpose.<br />
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Ever so subtly, without seeing it clearly, I had done what needs to be done in times of confusion and disturbances. I went for refuge. And I found it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqctCk07s5kzXQuead0hMFgpo5wBEykYbH7y7ZNvYG21SI21dylJEwOcXjMMQok3DHZuK9LdkW8zHnn0bmaJvbmj8YnS-KSgkkrBuaTwVimpvETyXEB3uqXKGwRPmK8l08rAKOioUzTI/s1600/lex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqctCk07s5kzXQuead0hMFgpo5wBEykYbH7y7ZNvYG21SI21dylJEwOcXjMMQok3DHZuK9LdkW8zHnn0bmaJvbmj8YnS-KSgkkrBuaTwVimpvETyXEB3uqXKGwRPmK8l08rAKOioUzTI/s1600/lex.jpg" /></a></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-79377843929465946452011-09-29T02:31:00.002+02:002011-09-29T03:55:27.690+02:00Home - landed and grounded<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>As I walked out of the airplane I realized I was actually sulking, purposely NOT smiling to others. Upon realizing that I was actually avoiding to smile and pouting to other people, who, in the end, had absolutely NOTHING to do with the fact that I was frustrated at having landed in El Salvador (remember... chains and ALL), I had to laugh at myself, however secretly. How old are you? asked a little voice inside my head, and I HAD to smile, at my own childish behavior, and to other people of course. You have to understand I am - almost by definition - a <i>smiler</i>. I cannot help myself, I have always been a smiler. I do it well and I do it often if not always, often throwing people off as a strange person, or a flirt. (Now that is not my intention by the way, just a side effect of being a smiler).<br />
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So anyways, here I am, having just considered my life as I knew it coming to an end, and now suddenly feeling quite amused at my own pessimistic mind frame, walking through the Comalapa airport corridors, when I suddenly hear a male voice yell "MAR!" behind me. The surprise made me turn around, who could I possibly know here and now???? <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKBozfuiXZGwxL6bCDdAfbQ8ONjbtVwl7xvb_1Rbbwm2EjmocbwrFoVzWU1EyzAOmd4FCuIC04WvY2sKUU38eaqCs_3Xr2F1d1Oo0pIbaQQ6axKXcyQzPrKUcRZvjeOr_IgHqOmte0v4/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKBozfuiXZGwxL6bCDdAfbQ8ONjbtVwl7xvb_1Rbbwm2EjmocbwrFoVzWU1EyzAOmd4FCuIC04WvY2sKUU38eaqCs_3Xr2F1d1Oo0pIbaQQ6axKXcyQzPrKUcRZvjeOr_IgHqOmte0v4/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a>My dear friend Foncho was there, waving his arms for me to see him. That was the last straw and my foul mood melted away like it had never been there in the first place. Foncho is a member of my El Salvador Sangha, and the friend who made it possible for me to fly to Europe at all, offering me one of the buddy passes that the airline he works for gives to his employees. And here he was, receiving me right outside the plane. He lets me know other friends are waiting for me outside and slowly a warm homey feeling starts growing in my tummy.<br />
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We go through customs together and we get my bags, outside Rosma and Grace are waiting for me. I feel joyful and full of love. Here we are, accross the ocean, and still the Sangha envelops me with love. I am here, I am among my people, my friends, and all is well in the world after all. We hug, we laugh, we are happy to see each other...<br />
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Already I am showered with questions, and we laugh and talk all at the same time. It <i>is </i>good to be home... with my friends.<br />
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The next thing we do is go to the school to pick up Rosma and my kids, Maïa stayed home, sick, and still doesn't know I'm home, but Sofia is there, and I manage to surprise her. She cannot believe her eyes and jumps into my arms. Our love is whole and intact, and pure. My heart beats faster. I am home, truly home.<br />
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We drive to my mother's place. Now that I don't have a house of my own, this is where I'll spend my time here, this is where my daughters live while I am away. The door opens and Maïa sees her mom for the first time. My little girl's eyes fill up with tears that do not flow, instead we hold each other close and laugh. I feel her heart beat faster. I am home, truly, warmly, astonishingly, lovingly <i><b>home</b></i>.<br />
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<u>And all is well.</u>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-51035213467356862232011-09-27T13:00:00.000+02:002011-09-28T16:27:55.645+02:00GaolAs the pilot's voice announces our impending landing, i look wearily out of the window at the landscape below. The muddy river undulating amid the emerald green valleys bear witness to the lushness of the rainy season that I just missed, and my mind morbidly wonders, as I incongruently marvel at the same time at the beauty of the "5 de Noviembre" reservoir's artificial lake, how many casualties the rain claimed this year, how many landslides, floodings and other wet catastrophies terrorized the poorest of the Salvadoran population, who, in spite of going through the same cycle of tormenting disasters year after year after year never seem to actually learn the drill and remain perpetually unprepared when the rains come.<br />
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I am immediately mortified by my own cynicism and wonder at this state of mind. This is the first time I land in El Salvador with such evident lack of enthusiasm and I feel how numb my spirit has become ever more acutely (again a paradox!) at my utter and complete indifference during the long turbulence the plane experiences while piercing through the largest of gray clouds. When we exit the cottony and unsettling cloud, the green pastures below reappear, although the rivers seem to have disappeared somewhere between the palm trees and the huge Mayan Ceibas and Conacastes, that look so tiny from up here.<br />
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On the other side of the airplane, I know the view is on the beaches and ocean front, yet not even that thought seems to have the capacity of cheering me up. I just want this plane to land already, to go through customs, pick-up my bags and be done with the whole thing. Not even the thought of soon hugging my loved ones cheers me up, the best I can aspire to in the near future I think, is sleep.<br />
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No, the perspective of spending time in Central America is not appealing to me, and I am not excited. I'd much rather load an airplane with my girls, friends and family and fly them all away to Europe, than to once again face what I today consider the depressive dirty mess of this little country. Even the accent of the people on board, happy to be coming home again, is irritating me and I wish I had brought my earplugs with me, the better to drown their slurry voices.<br />
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Please understand I have extremely ambivalent feelings for this country - and I can, like any other normal human being, fully appreciate its generosity, its natural beauty and abundance, and the warmth of its broad smiling people - Just... not now.<br />
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As the plane approaches the ground even more, I become able to discern the tin houses with improvised cardboard roofs and the coconut palm trees below. Then in a single mute moment, the plane touches the ground.<br />
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That's it, it's over. My adventure is over. I feel awfully like an escaped prisoner being brought back to the gaol feet chained and all...Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-76009375262034457912011-09-22T21:29:00.000+02:002011-09-22T21:29:10.227+02:00TrustWhen I decided to start this blog, I made a commitment with myself that I would always be as honest and transparent as possible, and I have so far been quite faithful in honoring this promise. Sometimes writing has been blissful and I assume reading might then be inspiring. At other times however, my writing comes from my processing difficult emotions and the results are not as hopeful or optimistic, like my last post.<br />
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When my man read it he told me pointblank "there isn't any trust reflected. It is sad." Indeed it was, because that is how I felt when writing it. A very easy and honest conversation followed, where he informed me he thought I was probably feeling this way because of a lack of trust in myself regarding our relationship, and that if this was so, it had little to do with me staying or leaving, and would anyway rise again later on. I didn't disagree completely but spoke about the previous experiences I've had with my other "long-distance" loves, where enthusiasm has died a slow or quite rapid death, depending on the conditions. Surely this justified my feeling so discouraged! With the clarity he can so easily summon whenever its called for, my love uttered the words that solved everything,swiftly removing the clouds of doubt. He said, with this mixture of gentleness and firmness he uses when speaking about matter pertaining to us that I like so much because it always settles things constructively; he simply said "Trust us." I couldn't believe how simple it was... Just like that, two simple words... and my heart was at ease.<br />
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It is true that our time together has been short. Not even two months have elapsed, but as he eloquently puts it, the time spent together has been intense. We have been sharing a very small space and been in each other's faces basically... all the time! Except when he goes out to work, or to his salsa classes, or if we go out with friends, separately, and also on my daily outings by myself. And this we've done quite well, I think, maintaining our independence while sharing such close proximity.<br />
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We've also been quite transparent with each other, sharing points of views, opinions, bad moods, as well as joys, happiness and relaxation. I even had the brilliant idea of getting sick, to add some stress to the situation (he - of course - took me to the doctor, ever so kindly, in his "lets-solve-this" no non-sense way of facing difficulties). We've both had our spouts of anger, although not directed at each other, so far. Fortunately. One angry person isn't optimal, but if both are, then everything is doomed. I think it's actually been educating. And a good way of getting to know each other, after all it's not rosy petals all the time, is it?<br />
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In fact, when, in the past few weeks spent in Budapest, I've had the opportunity of chatting with girls, and everyone knows that friendly girly conversations cover mainly the topic of boyfriends and love, this lack of rosy-petal relationships has become evident. They all eventually end up sharing some or other disastrous relationship they have manage to walk out of, and I've felt quite happy to see that although of course I have my own share of "ex-boyfriends from hell" stories to share, they actually go back quite far in time, and that from my recent experiences I can only speak of good relationships, with good men, who actually were also my good friends.<br />
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I am delighted to see how I have passed from the dissatisfying and hurtful relationships of the past to comfortable, loving and respectful ones, where the emphasis has been placed on love and happiness and not on resentments coming from unsatisfying relationships, or power struggles and manipulations or straight out disrespect, falsehood and deceit, as is unfortunately so often the case.<br />
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During the recent Kuchary course in late June, Lama Ole answered the question of an unhappy lady who was disappointed about the relationships in her life, he said "Become a better partner". The idea strikes me then that I have become a better partner, and that in fact, I am a <i>quite good</i> partner. That I have learned to love without all the troubling expectations that so cloud our feelings, and to argue or not argue but only listen to what the other has to say (depending on the situation) without taking anything personally. I have learned to express myself and my feelings directly, without shame or fear or added drama. I have learned to become sensitive to the other's emotions and state of mind, instead of listening only to my own mind and seeing only my perception of the situation at hand.<br />
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I realize I am completely open to the present moment and what it can bring and therefore not overly attached to my own plans. This gives me a freedom I couldn't enjoy before, the freedom of deciding how to act and even feel at every moment, with everybody. And the freedom of living every second of my life as it comes, without holding on to the past, regardless how recent, or to the future, regardless how brilliant... Of course I realize I've come a long way, but that is exactly my purpose as a Buddhist, as a mature woman... To leave behind all self-hindrances and self-sabotage strategies, to see beyond old and rancid ideas, patterns and opinions, to grow and develop everyday, and to be of benefit to others, especially to those closer to me, those whom I love the most, who incidentally are those who have the strongest impact on me.<br />
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It is clear to me then, I have better partners <i>because</i> I <i>am</i> a better partner myself.<br />
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I look at the man next to me, so busy in his own computer world of work, salsa and news while I dwell in my own computer world, writing my blog and checking facebook and I feel positively elated... He is interesting, and smart, and kind, and funny, and gentle, yet firm, and strong, and beautiful, and reliable; and I love him, and I trust him, and I <i>most definitely</i> <b>trust us</b>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYufr167JpPy_CjTsV3JrCORTmALQjHPe_m9o1VCVyBKy4wsiyFt_wxFdHethTM7DYyrbdfE78slhBTexCSH9LpPE4pZPSMfKvDmYafsH5wCDFLHLNEDlSVNnP4ReP3svv-Fg_mlhVps/s1600/Danube+162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYufr167JpPy_CjTsV3JrCORTmALQjHPe_m9o1VCVyBKy4wsiyFt_wxFdHethTM7DYyrbdfE78slhBTexCSH9LpPE4pZPSMfKvDmYafsH5wCDFLHLNEDlSVNnP4ReP3svv-Fg_mlhVps/s320/Danube+162.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-10397691498140171102011-09-20T12:53:00.006+02:002011-09-20T20:28:56.396+02:00I know...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Because experience is something that I always take into account, and not something I try to uncomfortably hide when I don't like what happens, I know time and space affect every single one of us. The energies present today aren't the energies present tomorrow. Like the waters flowing under the Chain bridge here in Budapest are never the same waters, like the clouds passing over us change with every second, like the weather, like the rain, like my hair in the wind, like hunger, and thirst, and everything else, so also feelings change.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So I know when I leave Budapest I am truly leaving. And this is not an easy knowledge to behold, because, of course, in the absurdity of our little and big hearts, we just want things that make us happy to stay the same. But they don't. And I know, because of what life has already taught me, not least of all this very summer, that when we let go of something, space in its vast generosity always rushes to bring us more, and we are never without what we need, inevitably receiving what we have earned through our thoughts, words and actions, since beginless times...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That doesn't mean I am not coming back. I am. This I also know for certain. But I know that in taking that plane I am weaving new conditions, new circumstances for my life that will mark it, dent it, for better or for worse, because every single step we take has a cause and a consequence. And although I do not know any of what will happen even this very afternoon, I know for a fact that one month away from here is one month spent creating something else, something entirely foreign to Budapest, to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19px;">Gergő</span>, to this "home", to this sangha, to this world that I've come to like so much.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I know that I will be happy surrounded by all my beloved ones, that I haven't seen, hugged, kissed in so long. I know I need to go home like one needs to breathe and drink and love, because I love my family, because I miss my friends, because I need to work and earn good money, and I know I will enjoy everything. Looking in the eyes of my beloved family, laughing with my girlfriends, eating the familiar food, driving again on the familiar streets, feeling again like a professional, dealing with my clients and colleagues, coming back to everything that is familiar, that is easy, that I know by heart...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I also know I will miss Europe, the proximity with the teachers, the stupas and the dharma energetic activities, I will miss Budapest's Gompa, where I feel so at home and so inspired, and the kind, lovely friends that I have met and made. But of course the worse will be missing <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19px;">Gergő</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;">, </span>and the life we've made and shared. I know...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So knowing everything I know about how water flows under bridges, about how fast clouds move in the sky and about how even the strongest personal energies change, I know it is sadness, and not trust, that I feel today.</span>Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-921821827882958167.post-42919424879247101162011-09-10T16:17:00.002+02:002011-09-11T13:00:16.282+02:00The Placement of the Letter "R"Today my boyfriend and I had an argument. The reasons behind it are not important, as it happens generally. In fact the conflict arose from such a stupid thing, that it would embarrass the both of us if I described it here, so let's just go to the core of things and say we had a conflict.<br />
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When two people argue, they use words. These words are supposed to explain our perspective and to give strength to our arguments. Sometimes however, we let words slip through our lips without thinking really of the weight they carry, and they come out and they take up space and they deliver a message, and like this, sometimes, they hurt.<br />
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I am standing in the door, and my beloved opens his lips and boom! out come these thoughtless words... I feel wounded. I do not react. I take the blow and feel it. I realize this is not who he is. I also decide he didn't realize what he was saying and most likely didn't mean it. But the words are there.<br />
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We continue to argue and then, I give up. I decide to make the bed instead and not to go to the supermarket. (This all happens before a shopping trip). He knows this and decides to come to me, as eager to mend this as I am. He doesn't walk away... I love him for that. As I explain to him how I feel, my eyes are teary, but I know this is just a physical reaction to my emotional state, so I don't cry, it is unnecessary.<br />
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All this time, I listen to him, and I think before speaking. I am trying very hard not to fall in the habitual patterns of interrupting, of saying anything to prove a point, of manipulating the situation by way of words or feelings, of using rhetorics to make the other look bad. I don't want my man to look bad. I don't want to win anything here. I want to explain and to understand.<br />
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He is also receptive and assertive. We talk. We see how different we truly are in some aspects. We also see the best in each other. He acknowledges the words that he let slip out too quickly and says "I'm sorry". I feel so relieved. We hold each other close and breathe. We think a little and talk about important things, mainly the differences between us, and how they don't separate us. I feel how important he has become to me, how good he truly is and how much I like him and my life with him. He holds me in his arms. We both feel the relief. Relief that this drama could be seen through dharma.Mar Incandescentehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16630866836664330623noreply@blogger.com0