Just love

Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.
Kahlil Gibran

Source: stylefrizz.com via Iulia on Pinterest

Yesterday I spent a few hours at the Design Museum. I've wanted to see the Christian Laboutin's exhibition for a long time and yesterday, after my run which always takes my by the Design Museum, I was drawn inside. I've enjoyed it a lot. Looking at shoes that are more than just things you put on your feet but statements of cultural, sexual or emotional identity was a highly rewarding experience. Especially when I got close to the 'Love' shoes of the Pigalle Collection. They had me mesmerised. There I was looking at these shoes for minutes (or maybe hours?) and thinking about this tiny little word stitched across two shoes. One shoe. Another shoe. Love... I felt they were trying to tell me something. That it takes two 'shoes' to make one 'love'.

It's funny how love's been poking its head into my life lately. Phrases and quotes I come across, plays I see, exhibitions I visit, they're all screaming love at me! 'The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death' cried Salome in the opera I went to see last Saturday, 'If love was a disease would you take the cure?' was the book I just finished reading (Delirium by Lauren Oliver) asking me. 'The hunger for love is greater than the hunger for bread' was Mother Theresa's opinion which I used in one of my older posts when I was talking about the boy with the bread. And now the Love shoes. But what's even more interesting is that today I saw a swan, a single, lost swan on the Thames in an area which was muddy a few days before. Now the waters looked like they were starting to rise and that swan was just there floating on the muddy waters, randomly and almost surreal. I've never seen swans on Thames before, it seems like she somehow got lost and ended up on that bit of the river. It suddenly occurred to me that swans mate for life and this was a lonely swan. Was she me?... Have I somehow ended up alone in muddy waters?

Maybe I'm done with loving just myself. I suddenly have this urge to share my love with somebody else, take the word love and stretch it over another shoe, who is just like me only slightly bit different, and start walking together. Because 'love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction'  (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)  and doesn't 'love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other' (Rainer Maria Rilke)?

I'm done with being afraid too. I'm done with being cynical, with expecting the worst, with being distrustful of men, with sabotaging myself over and over again. I am ready to just love. And do nothing but. 'I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love' said Mother Teresa and I believe her. The only cure for fear is love and I am not going to be afraid anymore. I've been too deep down in the swamps, swimming in muddy waters, tortured by fear, feeling lonely and lost. 'A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave' (Mahatma Gandhi) and I am no coward.

It's shocking how loveless modern life can be. It's almost as if we are afraid to say the word, like it's going to kill us if we admit we are searching for love. In the past, I would never speak of love when I spoke of a man. I would call it dating, having a casual relationship with a like minded adult, being friends or whatever else. I never said I loved a man before but that wouldn't be right because in reality I do love every man that has been, is and will be in my life for having loved me or hurt me equally. Because they've made me who I am today.

'And think not you can Direct the course of love, For love, If it finds you worthy, Directs your course' 
Kahlil Gibran

'The darkest hour of the night...'

'...is the one just before the sunrise.' ('The Alchemist' - Paulo Coelho)

This is a quote that's stuck with me since I first read The Alchemist, more than 10 years ago, and never left me. And everytime I find myself in the dark, not knowing which way to go and who to turn to, feeling my way around with trembling hands and a painful ball of fear in my stomach, I remind myself about this quote: that it's only the darkest hour before sunrise.
 
And then I remind myself that I've been in the dark before, many times in fact. And the sunrise always came. Stronger and brigther than before. There's necessity in darkness, it makes the light stronger.

I think my gremlin, my depression, has now faded away, it has finally left me and I am picking myself up again: doing the things I love, surrounding myself with people, feeling charged with energy. But I'm trying to take it slowly because I've learnt my lesson: sometimes things just take time, the night still has to come and last for a while, before the sunrise can take place.

I don't hate my depression, I think it had its purpose, it needed to happen, it was the night before my sunrise. It allowed me to think deeper about things and in the end to make the choice to be strong and continue searching for my dreams. But apart from teaching me to give it time, it also taught me that I don't have to do everything myself, that things are meant to come my way too, all I really need to do is to be alert and recognise them for being part of my life.

I remember a story I read when I was little. It was a collection of Chinese tales and I'm rather sorry I don't have that book anymore because the tales were probably quite magical, though as I child I must have missed most of the meaning. I do remember this one in particular though, mainly because I thought it was ridiculous. Without recalling a lot of details, the story went something like that: a young poor farmer found a straw stuck to his shirt. He tried to get rid of it but he couldn't, it obstinately stuck to his shirt. Then he decided he might as well make use of it and caught a fly and tied it by a string to his straw (this is why I thought it was silly, like who does this and why??), which was now stuck to his shirt. He met a merchant who offered him 3 oranges in return for the fly he had tied to his straw. They exchanged items and then the young man encountered the carriage of a princess who was dying of thirst. The poor young farmer offered her the three oranges and, grateful, the princess decided to marry him.

Ok, I know it's not a tale that makes much sense, after all, why would you catch a fly and tie it to your shirt, why would anyone want to buy the fly off you and since when oranges rehydrate that well? Anyway, suppose that's besides the point. The moral of this story is that nothing is simply random. Things and people come into our lives with a purpose, we just have to follow their lead and eventually the road will take us somewhere good. I already knew that but we people do get distracted and sometimes need a reminder. I think my depression was my reminder and, boy, how many things did I remember?... Like for example that...

'Everyone on earth has a treasure that awaits him.'
(The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho)

Stay inspired!

The great depression

I have vivid memories of the summer of 2007. It was the rainiest summer I'd ever known. It rained every day and my memories of that summer are soaked in total and palpable misery. I also remember I was looking for a job in marketing/PR and nobody would give me a chance because I didn't have the relevant experience in the UK. I was so sad, I cried tears of desperation every day and didn't think the sun would ever come up again. But it did. An opportunity presented itself and I got a job through a recommendation.

The summer of 2012 reminds me a lot of the summer of 2007. I don't remember having been so sad for so long in a very long time. I think it's safe to say I suffer from controlled depression. Controlled because I know its symptoms, I see it happening to me and I watch it from an observation point inside of me. Sometimes it looks like a gremlin which walks by my side. Sometimes he's holding on to my hand and the more I struggle to free myself, the more he thrusts his claws in my skin and doesn't want to let go. Sometimes he's not there and I can almost feel myself returning to normal, thinking it was all just a bad dream and that the sun is out and everything is all good again. Until he comes back, but every time feebler and thinner than the previous time. I'm not afraid of him anymore, I just don't like how he makes me feel about things. Nothing has flavour anymore, I am struggling to enjoy the things I used to love, I go out and surround myself with people despite that all I really want to do is isolate myself from everyone and hide under the duvet, I feel lonely and apathetic to almost everything around me. I miss having a zest for life. I miss being enthusiastic and excited about things. And that's what he's been doing to me.

But as always, writing is the only thing that keeps me grounded. I write, no matter what, knowing one day the sun will have to come up. I believe my mind and my body are trying to tell me something. That something's wrong, that I've changed, that I want other things, that I have to keep moving, keep exploring, keep living, keep being curious and different and defiant. And also that sometimes to be strong means standing still and waiting for the sun to come out all by itself. Hold hands with my gremlin and allow him to become thinner and feebler until there's nothing left of him but a memory... A reminiscence of the summer of 2012. When it rained a lot and I cried a lot...

Follow your dreams - part two

Remember my post about how it is important to follow your dreams no matter what? 

I was able to get in touch with Khaled, the lucky winner of the competition which allowed him to fulfill a lifelong dream: to trek the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. He was very happy to answer a few questions and share with us a few thoughts, following his wonderful adventure. And seeing pictures of him during the trek made feel nostalgic about my own adventure last year in Ethiopia...

 

Welcome back, Khaled. I trust you fully enjoyed your trek. Was it as amazing as you hoped?  I'll be honest, it was much more hard work than I anticipated and I probably should have trained properly! I enjoyed it very much but it was very tiring!

We know you chose the Inca Trail because your mum is originally from Peru, but what prompted you participate in this competition?

The Inca Trail is somewhere I have always wanted to visit, so when I heard about the competition I thought I'd enter. There are still a lot of places left for me to explore: 7+1 world summits, Sain Jacques de Compostella, driving in USA from the East to West coast, Trans Siberian and the Orient-Express! 
 

We know photography is your passion. Did you get to take lots of amazing photos?

The surroundings were beautiful do I did take a few pictures, however at times I was more concerned about taking care and putting one foot in front of the other without slipping! 

Tell us how you felt when you reached the Machu Picchu. What feelings did your trek in Peru inspire in you?

Getting to Machu Picchu was the best part of the trek and made all the effort worthwhile! It's mind over matter, it made me realise everything you do is just a battle with yourself and you just have to keep on going as the reward at the end is worth it and made me feel like the last few days hadn't happened. 

What advice would you give people who are dreaming about their adventure of a lifetime but haven't won a competition?

Look for opportunities around you, the adventure is just there. And if people tell you there is nothing there for you, just believe in yourself, and go for it! 


What are you planning next?

Next? Well I'm hoping Reckitt Benckiser will launch another competition.

Thank you, Khaled, for sharing your inspiring thoughts with us and wish you the best of luck to find the opportunities around you which will allow you to turn all your other dreams into sweet reality.


Stay inspired! 
 
 

The next Reckitt Benckiser Experience of a Lifetime winner will be cycling from London to Paris in June.