Monday 23 August 2010

The mathematics of existence

You know you have made an important step towards happiness when you can slow your pace down and even let go of things... One of the principle of Buddhism is to avoid getting attached to things/people as we are not the owners of them. We are only the owners of our feelings towards that thing or person and the only thing we can do is enjoy and rejoice in its memory, once it's gone...

Milan Kundera said in Slowness that speed is directly proportional with the power of forgetting and that slowness is directly proportional with the memory. We live in world where the speed is a sine qua non quality, but does this makes us a generation of amnesiacs?... Quite possibly so.

He calles this relation between speed and forgetting, and slowness and memory the existential mathematics and I tend to believe it is true.

In order to ensure the balance of the life equation we must foremost take things slowly, breath into the present (like in Yoga) and rely on the the stability of the memory rather than expect things to turn a certain way to avoid disappointment.

I noticed that most of my past frustration was generated by the impatience I was treating every situation with. I wanted answers right then and there, I wanted things to happen then and there, I wanted results there and then. Nowadays I have learned that it is far more pleasant to place the seeds of future circumstances and pick the riped fruits only when they are perfectly ready to be enjoyed, at their peak.

I noticed that the level of my patience is directly proportional with the satisfaction I get afterwards and I found out that I finally learned to let go. I can always rely on the strongest memories and indulge in them really slowly...

Thursday 12 August 2010

Where the truth lies...

The truth is that after turning 30, I started seeing the world with different eyes... It wasn't that before I wasn't aware of my surroundings, but as if by magic, I was able to look at my life objectively, as if stepping out of my body and contemplating it, rather than being stuck in it.

There is a lot of scientific evidence to explain the reasons why it happened and I am also not falling short of mystical ways of coming up with conclusions.

Reading this week's Stylist, I came across an interesting article about "quarter life crisis" and why so many brilliant musicians died aged 27. It seems that turning 27 can mark a turbulent time for people, with the brain going through an interesting transformation around that age. According to Dr. Daniel G Amen quoted in the article, a process called "myelination" occurs and nerve cells are being wrapped in myelin to provide insulation. If the process is disrupted with drink or/and drugs, the person is more vulnerable to depression and impulsive actions. Which brings me to the subject of depression...

Depression is a disease, a biological condition that affects the brain and it can be triggered by events, lifestyle choices, or genetic factors (though not very commonly). Sometimes it is something that builds up over time and it can, why not, start during childhood and erupt when the person is already an adult. Depression has been treated lightly and generally people have perceived it as a weakness rather than what it really is: a disease. The subject is, in certain cultures, quite a taboo.

According to the Toltec Master Don Miguel Ruiz, we are born perfect, happy and intact, but from the moment we learn how to speak and understand the power of the words, we start building up a "tree of knowledge" in our brain, that is made of common beliefs fed to us by parents, relatives, teachers, public figures etc. These common beliefs are not necessarily true (the author actually calls them lies) and we use them to make sense of life and produce judgements. So far it doesn't sound so bad, but the main concern of believing in the Tree of Knowledge is that it comes with a distorted image of the self: we should be like this, but we're not. We grow up with the image of perfection of what we should be and we're not, denying the reality that we are already born perfect.

Many cases of depression are triggered by this "I should be happy, but I'm not", "I should be rich, but I'm not", "I should be beautiful, but I'm not", "I should have children but I don't", "I should be married, but I'm not", "I should be free, but I am not" and the list is infinite.

This is the territory where science and mysticism meet. Depression episodes can be treated with chemicals, but the long time management of this fearful enemy, must be handed in to the people preaching inner happiness as a sine qua non condition for living a long and depression free life.

I have been depressed on this blog one too many times. If I hadn't, I probably would have ended up taking anti-depressants sooner or later... If I am to believe myself (though according to Don Miguel Ruiz, we shouldn't believe ourselves as we tend to proliferate lies from the Tree of Knowledge), I will reach this conclusion: I have suffered from depression for a very long time, with many lapsing episodes, probably ever since I was a teenager. Depression has been one big constant in my life and, due to my understandable ignorance, I have always blamed external factors (things I didn't have, not being in a relationship, not having the perfect job, being a foreigner in this country,,the weather,anything I could have thought about really) for my mood swings and lack of living enthusiasm. Luckily I've survived through all that and being able to complain about it on this blog has proved cathartic, perhaps it even saved me from far worse scenarios. If I am to believe myself, reading and being spritual had given me a completely new perspective and perhaps I don't exaggerate in saying that it has offered me a second chance to life. Perhaps my brain stopped producing myelin as well and that, combined with an improved drinking habit, may be the reason why turning 30 has actually completely shifted my perception on life.

Or maybe none of the above. Who knows where the truth really lies... I may be full of lies picked up from the Tree of Knowledge. I know one thing to be the truth though: I am perfect!...

Friday 6 August 2010

You are here and this is now

One of my favourite books is "Life is elsewhere" by Milan Kundera. I love many authors and I hold many books dear, but Kundera has a really special place in my heart. There's something effortlessly elaborate about his digressions, about the way he not only raises important life questions, but it does it in a way that is neither simplistic nor too precious.
I felt attracted by "Life is elsewhere" straight from the title, almost as in a Jerry Maguire "You had me from hello" kind of way. Because the moment I saw that book I understood what was it that effectively drove me across Europe, what was it that made my decisions for me and what was it that made me see life in a blur when I could have seen it crystal clear from the very beginning. It was the fact that I have always believed that life was elsewhere...

When I was around 20 years old I invented this notion called "Authentic Moments". I realized back then that not all moments in life have the same intensity. Most of our days are dull and uninteresting but sometimes, when everything is right, when all the characters and the settings are aligned, when the planets are coordinated in such a way that you happen to be in the middle of it, right there and then, the moments become full of meaning, intense, there's a sense of plenitude and happines about those moments and they become authentic. I was quite proud of myself for having realized that and after reading a lot more since, I also realized that my idea of authenticity is not entirely new, it relates to the Existential Truth, the Idea, the pure notion of what life stands for, that is to be found in many philosophies and spiritualities.

The way this discovery has influenced my life is not without significance. From the day I reached this conclusion, I have set myself high standards: I expected my life to be as full of Authentic Moments as possible and I would get easily disapointed if that wouldn't happen. I started blaming my country and have decided, without a trace of regret, that life (with her plethora of authentic moments) was definitely elsewhere. And I set off looking for it. And the journey lasted for 7 years. It may very well be a magic number as, once the 7 years passed, I felt the pressure lifted off my shoulders and suddenly (perhaps suddenly, but surely not out of the blue, as I started reading and studying a lot about balance and inner peace quite a while ago) I realized I have been looking for life in the wrong place.

Life is here and now and it's not going off anywhere else. I won't find it on an exotic island more that I can find it right here in (windy these days) London. Life is always with me, wherever I go. It's not going away and it's not staying behind. It is with me all the time and by realizing that, I finally started living.

No wonder I was torn between going home and coming back to London without a resolution. I have always expected something to happen at home and put my mind at ease as much as I eagerly awaited the return to London in the hope that this time something great and magnificent was going to happen for me... The good news is: it doesn't matter. I can be anywhere in the world and life wouldn't be elsewhere - it would be with me.

And to prove that I mean every single word I am writing, is that, probably for the first time ever, I am not complaining about the London weather and I don't feel that I want to spend every day off in a different country, with different people, under different auspices. I am staying at home, quietly, with no pre-plans for the week-end and absolutely enjoying every minute of it! And my life has as many Authentic Moments as I want it to have, I can make myself as happy as I want and I am more excited about being alive and doing mundane things than I probably ever was. I can watch a romantic movie feeling warm and fuzzy inside instead of cynically thinking "that is never going to happen to me" and really looking forward to spend half a day tomorrow in a cafe all by myself with a large latte and a book of Spanish grammar. Life couldn't be closer than here and now!

Sunday 1 August 2010

Out with the old, in with the new

There are periods in life when nearly everything changes. I have recently been through a gigantic "out with old, in with the new" stage and it feels as if I changed skins or refreshed my blood. It wasn't all pretty, some of the stuff were quite hard and I am surprised how well I coped with it all and somehow emerged stronger, calmer, wiser, healthier and, against certain circumstances, happier.

You normally expect this type of things to happen with the New Year resolutions period, but you never know when it hits. Perhaps when you are mentally ready to take the plunge. For me, everything was set, as if by a superior being, in such a way that every single step I took was a natural follow-up of the previous one...

First I changed jobs. I have felt an unsettling urge of such a change ever since the year started and I began feeling that professionally I wasn't going anywhere. As much as I loved working in my old place, I had to listen to my instincts and my gut feeling kept telling me I wasn't going to make it too far there. I changed jobs in May and, though heartbroken, I survived the shock of moving from an extremely fun environment and from an office in the vibrant Covent Garden area to a small office, on a residential street in Hammersmith, practically on the other side of the city. By changing jobs I took a bit of a industry change turn and I had to struggle to pick up on the specifics of the pharma and healthcare... Yet another sector I knew next to nothing about to add to my varied portfolio... Three months later and I am still trying hard to settle into everything but my objectives are much clearer now and I am grateful I managed to train my mind into putting things into their real perspective, rather than expecting an immediate satisfaction.

Then I had to move house. I calculated that in seven years of London, I moved house 8 times. So a little bit over a house per year. Apparently, according to some studies, moving house is one of the most stressful changes in a person's life. It is common knowledge also that the place where you live has to be a sort of a sanctuary where a person feels safe and enjoys moments of relaxation and calm, a retreat from the craziness of everyday living. 8 houses so far and none of them has been a real home to me. I find myself puzzled whenever on holiday whether it is worth me buying a souvenir I would just carry around London moving houses for the rest of my life... A need of a home is growing stronger by the day and I finally decided looking into buying. I don't know where to start yet and when it will be finished but I have finally agreed with myself that, in all fairness, London is my home now and I might as well have a home here after all...

In the meantime, I have found a lovely place to live, which ticks all my boxes (quiet, central, clean, modern, en-suite shower, great flatmates, safe and with an outside patio). Looking for a place to live was as expected the nightmare from hell and I felt much under pressure as moving out date was drawing closer, until I decided that compromise was not an option. I had to temporarily live at a friend's house until finding the right place and being able to move, but it was worth the wait and the effort. Luckily, I got by with a little help from my friends.

They say personal issues come from childhood and, though in the recent years I have learned to love myself and forgive myself and accept myself for what I am, perhaps residues of my self-inflicted self-loathe were still to be found floating around my molecules and decided to take a journey back to childhood and see what I would find. When back to Romania in July, I took a try and surrounded by familiar objects and the specific energy of the place, I lied on my back, closed my eyes and went back in time... I found a scared little me in a grey knitted suit (I remember that suit from a Polaroid photo taken many years ago in a hotel by a German tourist, which my mum had knitted for me) crying in the corner of our old apartment by the Black Sea, thinking that the future will never look bright again... I mentally took the child version of myself into my arms and assured myself that the future does look better and that it will all be all right. With tears running down my cheeks I have made peace with the past, allowing the present to unfold at its best.

Last but not least, a family medical emergency introduced me to the stress of being in and out of a London hospital, of looking the suffering in the face, and watching the painful spectacle of the human being deprived of dignity by the sickness. I had the chance to look around me and realize how incredibly lucky I am and stop looking at my petty worries as if there was no tomorrow...I know I should have done it a long time ago, but there is no better way of acknowledgment as seeing it with your own eyes... I also had a chance to reflect a lot about the algorithm of suffering and eventually I could only reach one conclusion: there is no logic to why some people suffer more than others, why some live happy fulfilling lives and others have nothing to eat, why some live to see 100 and others die of cancer, and the only way to fight this "injustice" is to properly celebrate every single day of life for what it is - a miracle and a blessing!

So this is me now, with a new vision and a new plan. To be happy! No matter what. To look at my life and say: I did all right! To look at my problems and say: will I really care about this a few months from now?... To acknowledge what I want and patiently wait for it to come my way without being frustrated for not having it on the spot. To spend more time with the loved ones and tell them more often that I love them. To love. Everything and everyone around me. It's the only way...



When asked recently how do I manage with so many changes I stopped a bit and thought about it. Then I said: I got used to change...