Why don't you settle down?...

Funny how slowly all your Facebook friends are starting to sport pictures of their children as they profile photo. Before you know it, you're the only adult left on what seems to become a kindergarten social networking site.

I was just talking about it the other day with one of my best friends. We just concluded that we were perhaps amongst the last few left from our generation who haven't got married nor given birth and who basically running around in search for adventures and fun. A couple of days later she called me in complete shock to announce her younger sister is pregnant... I think I was even more shocked. The reason behind our shocked reaction is that it's happening closer and closer to home. At first, children springing around wouldn't really affect me as they were somehow far away in a different universe - friends and friends of friends that I didn't get too see nor speak to very often. I guess that if I am completely honest with myself, I have even developed a sort of rejection towards these friends, keeping contact to a minimum. I mean, don't get me wrong, they are still my friends and I love them dearly, but as soon as children were involved, I was kind of stepping out on the back door. But as time takes its toll, more of my very close friends are getting ready for or enjoying parenthood making it more and more difficult for me to run away and hide from the evidence.

Pregnancies closer to base are haunting me these days. It is a cruel reminder of the fact that I am no longer a youngster, hell I ain't even in my late twenties no more. I should have bred long time ago according to Mother Nature. But all I am thinking about is how to avoid reality, how to keep myself busy with all sorts of other things like doing charity treks and fantasising about becoming a writer, or at least a peace activist. It saddens me to realize that time is passing and not only my head is full of grey hair (thankfully, skillfully died) but I am no longer young at heart. I am utterly exhausted of putting up a fight.

And the final blow came from my own mother today who, despite the fact that she's always been supportive and never questioned my lifestyle choices, suddenly asked me why I am not settling down, why am I not looking into having a baby, having a family, do what NORMAL people do!!! It hurt more than I expected because I didn't expect my own mother to give in to the pressure...

I mean, who is there to say what people should do with their lives? Who is that superior instance to say we should all get married and breed? We are human, not animals. We defy the laws of nature and do all kinds of un-natural things. Why living as a late-teenager in one's 30s is suddenly a crime?? Is it really wrong of me to wanting to do other things with my life?...
All through my 20s I had the feeling of running out of time, still too young to understand that not everyone has to be set on the goal of achieving a husband, a family, buy a house, get a dog etc.
Since then, I have spent a great deal of effort into convincing myself that it's ok not to have all that and we can still have perfectly fulfilled lives even when we're 31, single and childless. And then suddenly, I am bombarded from everywhere with this pressure again...
I hear around me things such as "You're not young anymore, you should be happy with what you get etc etc." My blood is boiling. I try to be calm and find out what is it that really makes me so upset? Is it the fact that maybe I do want to have a family but fail to admit it to myself, that perhaps I was designed to do something else and the rest of the world doesn't understand me or that I may be actually going trough a quarter life crisis and I really need to find out what is it that I REALLY WANT...?

One thing I know for certain is what I DON'T want: I don't want to live an amputated life just because everyone else says so.

Sometimes things are just said though. Fortunately, my mother loves me enough to grant me that I may just not be like other kids and take me for what I am. I was HER choice, after all!...

The charity 'business'

Back for already over two weeks from my charity trekking and yet my efforts are not over. I didn't realize how much vital energy this has taken from me - mind you I needed almost a week only to be able to phisicaly recover. Once I started to feel like a normal person again,I realized that I still needed lots of energy to carry on fundraising.

Despite having received lots of donations from many generous hearts and despite having contributed myself a great deal already, I am still to achieve my target. I am extremely proud and grateful to all my contributors for having reached 73% of my target up to date, considering I have not received any corporate sponsorship (although I was expecting some initially...), but unfortunately my fight is not over.

I must confess I feel drained. I feel drained from reminding people about it and from having to explain myself all the time what is it that I am doing, what is it that I am trying to achieve...

I have a distinct impression that people have mixed feelings regarding charity work and why shouldn't they?... After all, what is charity but a business in itself?...

People feel robbed by the fact that some of the money that are being donated end up paying for the charity workers' salaries. Or, as in my case, paying for some of the expenses of my trip... In fact this is true, but isn't it as true that without the effort of these people, things wouldn't happen...

How can you turn the £5 you have donated into a month's fresh water supply for a village in Africa without the system that has been put in place by a bunch of enthusiastic people working for a charity? And after all, we all agree that they have to make a living too... Oh, wouldn't we all want to help the less fortunate, not pay any rent, not need to spend any money, feel good and generous and rich both spiritually and financially? But the reality as we all know it, plays by different rules. The truth is that if we want things to do happen, some investments need to be made.

It is true that I did the trek to Ethiopia because I wanted to. I could have paid for my trip, go there and come back without the hassle of raising money, which I must admit has been 10 times more exhausting than the trek istelf. But I chose the hard way because I felt that something had to be done, that I had to do something. And it's because other 9 people have decided to do the same that the charity we are supporting has raised enough money to implement a few very important projects in Africa. A small and dedicated charity that doesn't flaunt children pictures or panda bears, but does its job. As non-glamorous as this may sound, it saves hundreds of lives every year.

So let me just conclude with this: if it wasn't for the 'business' of charity and for the few crazy people ready to go through difficult tasks to raise the money, very few things would be achieved. So if you feel you may have misjudged the charity sector or simply feel generous, I am still taking donations on Just Giving so, click here to donate.

Ethiopian Portraits

Unspoilt Ethiopia - trekking through the Simien mountains

Situated inland in the horn of Africa, bordered by Somalia, Eritrea, Sudan, Kenya and Djibouti, Ethiopia is a fascinating land than many know next to nothing about. Also known as the cradle of humanity, due to the discovery of Lucy, the oldest human skeleton aged 3.2 million years, Ethiopia is mainly "famous" in the Western world because of the famines, especially the one between 1984 - 1986, which affected more than 8 million people. A predominately agricultural country, Ethiopia is still at the mercy of rainfalls.



However, the richness of its culture and the breathtaking natural sceneries, more than make up for its possible lack of modern commodities which may very well put off the over spoilt today's travellers.

Which of course wasn't the case of our charity trekking group, ready to face any challenges the country, the weather or our own limits may have thrown at us.

Day 1

Arriving on a Saturday early morning after a 7,5 hrs overnight Ethiopian Airlines flight, we were quickly introduced to the hustle and bustle of Addis Ababa (meaning New Flower in Amharic, the most widespread Ethiopian language), which, at first glance, seemed to be a bit too much to take in... Busy streets, mules crossing the streets, a little bit too Communist buildings, people sleeping on the pavement, lots of local "entrepreneurs" selling their merchandise off a blanket on the sidewalk, many half finished constructions and above all the dust and the heat.

The visit to the market in Addis was a bit of a scary experience, overcrowded,smelling of fumes and spices, almost a huge creature with millions of heads and pumping hearts, ready to eat you in, never to be seen again... But most interesting it was the things that they were selling at the market, including empty plastic bottles and used raffia sacks, used spare parts, chains and lots of plastic crockery... Not much that I would have bought to bring back as a souvenir... I must confess that my second visit to the market, on our last day, was less of a shock and more of an enjoyable experience as I had grown to like these Ethiopian people so much that watching the people going by or getting rid of the two lads selling me African toothbrushes (which literally were carved wood branches used to refresh the smell and clean the teeth) was actually a heart filling thing to do.





I must admit that it wasn't much I knew about Ethiopia before my visit. Perhaps only that the Emperor Haile Silasse was the one who inspired the Rastafari movement in Jamaica after his visit there and that Ethiopia was considered the sacred land, the Zion for all the rastafari followers. Perhaps faint rumours of the Queen of Sheba and king Solomon reminded me a bit of what used to be Abyssinia and that the Simiens were apparently a must see. Other than that, a lot of ignorance of my part... I wouldn't recommend going to Ethiopia without a local guide. They seem not only extremely knowledgeable but also very excited about sharing as much as they can about their country, which they all seem to be very proud of. The Ethiopians are proud of their heritage, of their glorious past and of their independence over the years. They have a huge smile on their faces which is extremely contagious, but above all, they are rare beauties. Both men and women have a specific face bone structure, with high sculptural cheek bones, big brown eyes and a skin colour to make anyone green with envy. They are all slender and athletic as if born to be strong and ready to achieve excellence. I also became interested in learning about their history, their brave and majestic kings such as Tewodoros, Yohannes and Haile Sillasie and about their overwhelming cultural heritage, thirst which has been diligently fed throughout our trip.

Day 2

Breakfast at candlelight and packing guided by flashlight. Thank God I didn't forget anything at the hotel in Addis. Everything in my backpack was an essential item for the trekking ahead, I couldn't have afforded to leave anything behind...
Due to lack of resources, electricity cuts seem to be quite a frequent occurrence in places in Africa. Somehow I managed to forget that the same happened in Romania when I was growing up. Now, how easy it is to take things for granted...


We were going to leave for Gondar, spend another day getting acclimatised before saying good bye to civilisation for the next 4 days. A short flight with a small Ethiopian Airways plane and couple of hours later we were descending to the city of Gondar, famous for its impressive castle ruins and for being the birth place of one of Ethiopia's most famous kings, Thewodoros, who shot himself rather to surrender to the English. According to our guide, a famous armour is still displayed at the British Museum and Ethiopians want it back. I promised myself I'd go again to the British Museum and look for it.





Gondar is full of blue tuk-tuks, a rather touristic place (though still not many Europeans in sight...) and a continuous source of awe. After visiting the "Camelot of Africa", the royal palaces starting with the palace of King Fassilidas, and a wonderful lunch at Dashen Brewery where we enjoyed a pint of the freshly brewed Ethiopian beer, we went on to visit the oldest orthodox church in Gondar made surprisingly of mud and straw and holding on proudly to its original mural paintings. I am only sorry I didn't get to see an actual sermon, full of chanting and strange ceremonies as we were told. On our way out, we were lucky enough to see a loud Ethiopian wedding which strangely reminded me of the Romanian weddings...

Day 3

Our first day of trekking started with a 4 hours bumpy ride from Gondar to the Simien National Park. In Ethiopia and especially in the Simiens, roads are still being built and a feeble start of a sustainable infrastructure is being attempted. Thus, we were jiggled on the long drive over cobblestone leaving clouds of dust behind us as if we were in fact sometime at the beginning of the 20th century. This road, however, was our only access to the Simiens and after a short lunch break, we began our first day of trek from the Simien lodge, accompanied by Tash, our wonderful guide, two scouts employed by the National Park and a couple of helpers with a horse and a mule to carry extra water.
Passing through various changes of scenery, it was impossible to hide our amazement and awe. As far as the eyes can see, reddish volcanic formations were displayed to our sights' content as if they were in fact temples built by an alien civilization. They seemed so perfect and surreal, almost extra-terrestrial. This is how I have probably imagined how other planets looked like and yet, all this was now in front of me, as real as anything else.



Passing through, we had our first encounter with the famous local Gelada Baboons (also known as the Bleeding Heart Baboons) and spent a good period of time observing those interesting creatures that absolutely loved the attention.






Just before dark, we arrived at our first camp site, where our tents were already erect and our main luggage already waiting for us. After a cup of tea and a delicious dinner prepared by our resident chef, we all headed down to our tents, exhausted after a first day of walking and looking to hide as quickly as possible from the freezing cold, which did get down to 0 degrees C during the night. My first night in the tent went pretty well, managing to sleep through most of the night, but waking up with a semi-paralyzed face that only started to feel like a normal face after washing with a bit of warm water left outside by a caring hand.

Day 4

My second day of trekking has also been the hardest. Oblivious to the fact that I might be affected by altitude, I chose not to take altitude sickness prophylaxis tablets and I ended up having difficulties breathing and experiencing headaches. As we marched, the scenery changed slowly into a red dust desert-like setting and breathing became even more impaired as dust insinuated into our lungs with every step we took.
During the first part of the day, we ran into another group of baboons, minding their own business by the river, but towards the afternoon though, human presence became accentuated the closer we were getting to a village. By the time we got to the village, my lungs were desperately crying for air and desperation became greater when finding out that we were only half way through to the camp site, which became the end goal of every taken step. Skinny, dark, bare feet children of all ages appeared out of nowhere and started a “hello” saying contest. Trying to respond to all those “hellos” meant we had to give up climbing as the air was never enough… And that wasn’t really an option, as we had to make sure we arrive at the campsite before dark.
My strength was leaving me and by the time we finally managed to get to the camp, I started feeling feverish and getting cold shivers. By dinnertime, all I wished for was to get through the night. Which turned out to be probably the worst night of my entire trip…

Day 5

The morning of the next day I wasn’t feeling well. I was still shivering, wearing no less that four layers and my ski jacket. At that point I was convinced that I will fall ill but I carried on walking. Slowly and struggling, but I carried on walking. It wasn’t as if I had a choice… It wasn’t as if I could have picked up the phone, call sick and lie in bed all day, feeling miserable. All I could have done was to carry on walking.

Soon enough though, I started gaining strength and my ascension wasn’t as painful as I feared. The higher we went, the colder it got, so kept most of my layers on, except for the ski jacket.
Every once in a while we’d reach a peak which allowed us to embrace with our gaze most of the scenery below and no matter how often that would happen, we would still burst with amazement in “wows” and “ohs”.




I have long time ago realised that no matter how well crafted, painted, projected or built a work of art is, there simply is no comparison to the perfection of the greatest creator: Nature. Perhaps because we stand astounded at the sight of something so magnificent and beautiful which perhaps wasn’t even created with intent (think about volcanic formations, erosions etc.), we are left breathless. Perhaps because it reminds us of how small we really are… Or because we simply understand that we are part of a Universe that lives and breathes and carries on without us, if we chose to ignore it, living our lives as if there’s nothing more important than our selfish little selfs… Perhaps that’s why when I saw Sagrada Familia I was so touched – because it doesn’t try to claim the human superiority but rather kneels in front of the greatest artist of all times: Nature… To me, Sagrada is homage to Nature…
Here I was standing in front of something far greater than even Sagrada… Miles and miles of red mountains resembling ancient pyramids…
But before I was even able to take in all that, I found myself surrounded by giant labellias (beautiful plants resembling palm trees, which only grow at high altitudes) scattered across a scenery that made me wonder if I haven’t magically been transported via a parallel universe gate to a desert…



The desert soon changed into a dangerously looking path that would scare anyone with a freight of heights. I must confess I am one of those people that when looking down from a dangerous spot gets the vertigo (or at least thinks it). In this case though, I couldn’t afford that. I had to carry on without looking down and making sure my foot is grounded at every step I took. That dangerous march seemed to take forever, but before dark we made it to the next camp…

I’d like to talk to you a bit about the stars… I often wonder if we are actually on the same planet, as depending on where I am, the sky is always different. I have never seen so many stars on the sky in my entire life… The sky was made of black velvet (you could almost feel its tenderness) and millions of crystals were scattered everywhere as if the sky was the most expensive ball gown… It was so amazing that it was almost scary… I planned on lying down on my back and just look at it intently until my gaze hurt, but the cold made that impossible. I had to throw a quick glance, take yet another deep breath and rush into my sleeping bag… There was more walking to do…

Day 6

The actual last day of our trekking was planned to be an 800m climb up to the peak of Ras Bwahit (14,500 ft). At times steep and stoney, the asscension proved to be the most difficult yet. Breathing was becoming almost an impossible task and yet filling my lungs with more and more air with every step I took, kept me going. They say that during hard physical effort, people tend to talk to themselves and repeat mantras to keep them going. All I could think about was making sure to take in the next breath of air. Soon, it felt as in a different dimension, getting slightly dizzy and really starting to wonder if I'd make it to the top. We were working against a deadline and not making it to the top by 10 am, meant having to go back no matter where we were... For that we had to wake up erlier than usual and walk in the dark with the help of flashlights until the sun came up.
I really wanted to get to the top. If I didn't, all that effort meant nothing. Just one more step, just one more breath... When I finally made it to the top, I felt pure happiness. Congratulating eachother on the top of the world, I felt tears in my eyes and they were some of the happiest tears I've ever shed... It may have been the result of the physical effort, or maybe the team work that this challenge has been, perhaps I felt incredibly lucky for having experienced something of such importance, for the blessing of having set foor in Ethiopia or all at once, but I was incredibly happy.




I knew I was never going to be same after this. I knew I wanted to do even more... As much as I could...

3 days away to Ethiopia...

Yes, I am officially freaking out! I am only 3 days away from flying off to Ethiopia and although I have reached more than 60% of my target, did all my vaccinations, got my visa, bought all the first aid bits, trekking boots etc etc. I am freaking out!!

It may be because I started the year in a major rush! I wanted to avoid at all costs going through the depressive state I went through last year and perhaps I went a bit too far. Perhaps January is indeed the month of wallowing, staying indoors, watching cheesy films and pledging to go to the gym, but never doing it...

I've just kept myself busy fundraising heavily, getting quickly adjusted to a new job, even to a potential new relationship and occasionally training, that I reached the point of saturation and mental exhaustion. Now, I am less than 3 days away from flying off to Ethiopia and instead of jumping up and down with major excitement, I am stressing out that perhaps I haven't done enough to ensure my overwhelming success...

Is it perhaps that I have forgotten the fact that I am going there for two major reasons: for the immense satisfaction of knowing I am helping others and for the privilege of being even for a few short days in the middle of the nature, somewhere remote and hopefully closer to God and my own feelings than I could ever be in an urban environment. I am longing for that peace that I should already be inducing myself...

But one thing I know for sure: once I decide I don't like where things are going, I am always adjusting my feelings in order to feel great.

So don't worry, I will come back with wonderful stories and hopefully amazing life conclusions ;)

The singleton syndrome

I didn't even realize it, but I think I may have crossed the line between being single and longing for a relationship and being single and feeling really comfortable about it.

I only just came to the conclusion that all the ideas I have been toying with about me coming of age and looking for the Nice Guy were just self-convincing statements, when, in reality, I have made such an incredible good job at really enjoying being single that I have reasons to believe that I may have become a relationship phobic.

While dumbfound by the realization that I may actually have a problem, I went on the ever reliable Google and wandered around in search of answers. I cam across this title: "The Successfully Single Syndrome" by Dr. Nancy Kenyon and thought it could be a good idea to read some of this literature that may find me some answers. It seems that the book is dealing with why people are still single and giving advice on how to find the right partner, but I am not sure many people have bothered to see that while trying hard to convince ourselves we don't need somebody else in our lives to make us happy, us single people have programmed our minds that we are probably happier alone than trapped inside a relationship that we can't seem to be able to embrace the perspective of a one...

Scared by the things I have just discovered, I have also noticed that no matter how much I rationalize it, I do, without a shred of a doubt, have a falling in love pattern and yes, it is the people that don't want me that make me want them. How pathetic. In a day and age when I thought I had it all sorted out, turns out that if I a guy is too much into me, I tend to run away as if I was bitten by a poisonous cobra. I cannot help but wonder what is it that I must do, to let go of this bad habit and simply open my heart fully to a person that surrounds me with attention and perhaps "loves me just the way I am". I am fighting battles with my own feelings and instincts and I do pray to God that I win. Otherwise, I'll be chasing dead horses all my life while wondering what am I doing wrong. What am I doing wrong is being set on some silly self imposed criteria and not being able to open my eyes and be more flexible about things. I wonder if I may still stand a chance to be cured of the Single Syndrome or is the kind that sticks with you forever and ever?...

Nobody is supposed to live alone and yet again, we have beaten Mother Nature to the polls. Take that Nature, who said we can't live single happily ever after?... Who says we can't be walking the earth in search for some sense and purpose? I mean, what else if left after I come back from climbing mountains like a goat? Just a big black emptiness... I guess.

New Year - so much to do, so little time!

This would be my first post in 2011. Not because I have nothing to say, but because there is so much happening!

Christmas seems so far away already, the New Year party, being home, it's already so last year. It's been great, but as always, happy to be back home in London.

And this year I have more reasons to be excited: I have started the year with a brand new job in a great ad agency and already feeling better about the work aspect of my life. But more than anything is the fast aproaching trek to Ethiopia.

It's less than a month away and I am running around trying to sort out insurances, visas, vaccinations and above all - training sessions! I obviously have spent Christmas training pork delicacies down my throat so the need of getting in shape is stronger than ever. My motivation is high, the only thing I am short of is time. Trying to walk 2-3 hours a week-end, going to gym classes after work, getting crash-training at work as well and preparing for the fundraising party - it seems that the luxury of sleeping is no longer mine! No wonder I am knackered all the time.

But hey, the January blues are certainly not something I should be worried about! I am full of energy and high on excitement. So far, I had no time to breathe and think but got my little notebook ready and will make sure I write everything down when I'm there. I am expecting this to be one of the best experiences of my life!

A really big thank you to all the people that have donated towards my charity trekking and have helped me reach 25% of my target! I won't let you down.

If you wish to donate you can do it by clicking on my JustGiving page.

Make Christmas everyday

Every year from ever since I can remember, I have associated Christmas with a poignant sadness.

Not only that I sometimes unwillingly reminisce about the cold winters back in the communist times when our main source of heating in the flat was an old electric heater which proved to be pointless when the electricity was cut off, but I also can't stop thinking about the many years I have spent Christmas away from my family until I felt it didn't belong to me anymore.

When I was a child, Christmas was a joyful celebration and like millions of children around the world I too waited for Santa Claus to bring me presents.

But he only came at kindergarten and somehow he only brought me things I didn't want. I remember once Mum asked me what did I want for Santa to bring me and I was embarrassed to tell her I wanted a toy so I said I wanted a sweater, though secretly hoping for a doll. And guess what? Santa did bring me a sweater. I was painfully disappointed. I couldn't believe Santa listened to my lie and not to what my heart wanted.

Anyway, years later and I felt the sadness on many Christmases spent away from home, especially last year when my flight got cancelled and had to spend another Christmas in an empty London with no jingle bells.

But you know what? This year I am happy either way! Because Christmas is just another day and it really should be Christmas every day!

What really is the point and spirit of Christmas? It's not about the millions of things that people rush to buy and wrap them up to put under the tree and it's not about the new dress at the Christmas party. It's about the joy and gratitude and it's about helping!

I feel blessed that, probably for the first time ever, I put no pressure on Christmas day and truly believe that the legacy of it lives in my heart every single day of the year. And this has been proven to me by so many people that have supported and encouraged me in my charity trekking fundraising and the more you receive, the more you want to give. So I say, give love everyday and make everyday a Christmas day!


I have come across a young Romanian girl that has a brain tumour and needs help and decided to write about it on my blog. They are presently working on arranging a PayPal account so people (including myself) can donate online, but in the meantime, if you live in Romania and would like to help someone who might not be able to make everyday a Christmas day without help, you can find more details on this blog "Ajutati-o pe Ana" (Help Ana).

They joys of fundraising

So, after the initial excitement of “Oh, my God, I am actually doing this!” I reached the inevitable “Oh, my God, how am I going to do this?...” It looks like raising money it’s far more stressful and complicated than I ever anticipated.
Firstly, I started pretty late... It wasn’t that I was half hearted about climbing mountains, but fundraising the whole amount seemed something far more complicated. But as I always do (and believe me, it’s brought me more troubles than benefits) I just decided to go for it, either way.
Yeah, it’s easy to say, I’ll do it next year, I’ll do it when the sun will shine, when I’ll have more money so I can practically pay for it myself entirely without going through the hassle of raising money etc etc. But they are all just excuses for not doing things and as cliché as this sounds, life really is short! And, since a recent epiphany, I have decided never to leave things for later. As troublesome as this may be!
So here I am struggling. I managed to schedule a fund raising fancy dress party on 22nd of January at my flat (thanks to a few very dedicated friends) and currently trying to negotiate some deals with the local pubs for a pub quiz night or darts championship. I offered to sing karaoke all night in return for donations but they kindly asked me not to do so. They must have heard me singing before... Anyway, slowly slowly and mostly through begging or emotionally blackmailing all my friends for sponsorship, I have started to build up the necessary amount. In fact, I have reached 11% of my target, which is not too bad considering how late I have started my fundraising campaign. However, my place has been booked and half of the money (£1500) need to reach the charity by first week of January. Hmmm.... Complicated stuff, huh?...
For those of you wanting to know about how my training is going, I have disturbing news. I have been stressing so much about gathering funds, that I have actually eaten a lot of the chocolate I brought in to work to try and sweeten people up towards my case, I have been drinking a lot at the Xmas party trying to forget all about not reaching my target and when finally I took a strong direction towards they gym, I ended up with painful muscular cramps following an intense session of body pump. So apart of the regular jogging (which I must admit, is not great on ice), I am not doing a lot. Truth be told, I did a bit of surfing a couple of weeks ago which did improve my stamina but left me with a cold that doesn’t want to go away...
Anyway, just thought I’d keep you all up to date with how everything is going. In case I do get stranded trying to go home for Xmas, I promise I’ll do some working out with the shovel at the front door and maybe skip the Xmas turkey in favour or some delicious energy bars.
So, if you have not been impressed by the suffering people in Africa, I am sure that after reading this, you can’t help but wipe that tear off the corner of your eye.

Merry Christmas!!

Iulia xxx

PS. Yes, you can donate, by clicking here.

Merry Christmas from Transaid and the people they have helped in Africa (click below)

Merry Xmas!

The rastafari movement started in Ethiopia...

Seize the day

I can't think of a better way to start this but with a reference to Goethe's masterpiece "Faust". I have been planning to write an article about my trip to Africa next year as part of a charity trekking and kept thinking of a way to express my feelings the right way. While trying hard to explain why is this so important to me, I remembered Goethe's "Faust".

Faust, a man of great wisdom and virtue, made a pact with the Devil, who promised him unlimited access to all the pleasures and all the knowledge in the world. But the Devil, as a good advocate himself, has written a clause, which stated that if at any point Faust would be happy and would like to seize the moment, he would die the next instant. As much as he enjoyed worldly pleasures and had access to everything he could possibly want, Faust didn't feel the need to want to seize the moment, until he became involved in helping others. The satisfaction he received from helping, made him, without even realizing, intensely happy.

That's because Faust was probably experiencing what anthopologists and psychologists call the "warm glow" of giving.

I wanted to lay my motives bare in front of everyone and say that yes, perhaps I too, long for the "warm glow" of giving. And that perhaps it comes a time in life when nothing seems valuable anymore, when you stopp running for succes, money, career and everything that we were trained to pursue and wonder whether there isn't something else out that will make life worthwhile.

"Ah! Now I’ve done Philosophy,

I’ve finished Law and Medicine,

And sadly even Theology:

Taken fierce pains, from end to end.

Now here I am, a fool for sure!

No wiser than I was before:

Master, Doctor’s what they call me,

And I’ve been ten years, already,

Crosswise, arcing, to and fro,

Leading my students by the nose,

And see that we can know - nothing!" (Faust, Act 1)



What do we know in fact? That somewhere in the world people live different lives as if Earth was divided in different little planets. That we know close to nothing about the other little planets, except that they need our help. We also know that abundance doesn't bring happiness and it doesn't bring the satisfaction a person longs for. But what we do know is that we can take this abundance and put it to good use - maybe plant a few seeds of hope on a poor little foreign planet. While sacrificing for it. The "warm glow" will come together with the endorfines released from climbing the high Simien mountains and maybe then, on a high peak, surrounded by greatness and silence, with the wind telling magical tales of ancient civilisations and universal truths, perhaps then, the Faust in me will want to absolutely seize the moment.


If you would like to sponsor me in my trekking, please donate on my Just Giving page.
If you would like any information about the trekking, the charity or the cause, just drop me a line.

My way

In a world that keeps pushing dreams our way, it seems that living for what one really wants has become one of the biggest challenges one could encounter.
In a world that becomes more and more diverse and complex, one finds himself wondering how come that all that he has achieved up to date doesn't really hold any real value.
In a world that speeds frantically and irrationally, one has forgotten how to live.

If it was only my case, I would stand accused and say nothing, as I have always been one of those people that has pointed things out and has always complained about the wrong things in life. If I were the only one that didn't find my place and cried in the middle of the night because waking up and going to work just doesn't have any logic, I would stand accused. If I were the only one who finds herself suddenly woken up from the common dream and wondering what was life suppose to be all about, I would say no word.

But I am not the only one and the same way I stare at the wall and ask myself over and over again what is it that I am suppose to be doing with my life in order to feel the happines and satisfaction with my existence, the same way, I am sure, there are hundreds, thousands and possibly even millions of people asking themselves the same question.

In a world that is so big and yet so small, young Londoners find themselves wondering what will it take to make the life worth living... Surely it can't be the season sales, or the all inclusive holidays, or the drinking with mates, or the comfort eating, or the playing sports, or the pulling in bars, or... Surely there must be something else. That something that we were born to do and is probably just under our noses without our noticing...

One of my very good friends pointed it out for me the other day that I should stop taking whatever comes my way and go for what I really want. I stopped for a second to think about it and I realized that I have always(ALWAYS!!!) just taken opportunities that came my way. I have never gone for a job because I wanted that job badly and I would have polished someone's shoes for a year just to get it. I have just accepted offers that happened to seem reasonable at the time, never taking into account what would that offer mean to me in the long run. I just did it and moved on, hoping that the future will write itself somehow. As if I was afraid to make choices for myself, I have allowed fate to decide for me. I suppose this type of attitude is valid for everything else in my life: I have never chosen. I have simply accepted. Hence my lifelong dissatisfaction with my life.
I think the only choices I have made are my friends and my books. These are the two aspects in my life I feel strongly about and I feel entitled to accept or reject. Anything else, until now, didn't mean much...

I have worked hard with myself to not only give myself unconditional love, but change the way I look at life in order to reflect this self love. I believe that by making my own choices, I show myself love and respect and portray that person that I have always wanted to be.

I still don't know what choices will I have to make and what compromises in order to achieve my goals, but at least now I am sure that if I want to live a meaningful life, I will have to do things my way!

Trusting myself

I am sure my friends want the best for me. I am also sure that sometimes they don't know what to tell me anymore after hearing my complaints over and over again and end up telling me off. Or telling me something that I don't want to hear simply because it makes sense to them.
I suppose I do the same for my friends. At first I am sympathetic and encouraging and after a period of time when things fail to improve, I suggest to them to seek specialized help. I suppose we can't blame each other because no friend in the world holds anybody else's answers. The only answers are within us and all we have to do is stop and feel.
Feelings are the only reality and the only indicator of what a person is going through. Learning to listen to those feelings is probably a person's best chance for survival. Listen to yourself and nurture your needs.
A lot of the things that I have been through recently I had to deal with myself. Don't get me wrong, I did pour my heart out in front of my closest friends, but in the end I had to deal with all my issues myself. And it works. Learning how to listen to myself is probably the best thing I have ever done. After a while, you become a doctor in your own feelings and recognize signals almost without fail. I have learned that no matter how well intentioned is a friend that tells me "I really liked that guy you were seeing two months ago, what was wrong with him? I think you might be becoming too demanding", or "I think you should get back with your ex", or "Just find yourself a nice guy", none really knows better what's best for me than myself.
I can only be with the person that brings the best in me and awakens the playful side of myself and allows me to live life with open arms. Anyone else, will just force me to live with a side of myself that is miserable and aggressive, reproachful and nasty, cold and bitter. And this is why, no matter how great someone was, sometimes their presence and solicitude provokes the worst in me. The more they would try to please me, the more I would reject them. While others, perhaps less than an obvious choice, would make me feel happy and light, funny and attractive.

Therefore, my friends, I think I have answered my own question: I have only myself to trust to make the right choices in life. But thanks anyway...

Hypochondria - the new "mal du siecle"?...

"Hypochondria is a mental preoccupation with real or suppositional physical or mental disorders, a discrepancy between the degree of preoccupation and the grounds for it so that the former is far in excess of what is justified, and an effective condition best characterized as interest with conviction and consequent concern, and with indifference to the opinion of the environment, including unresponsiveness to persuasion." (Retterstol, 2007)

Hypochondria is not new, it hasn't been invented yesterday, but goes back as Hypocrates. However, after going through a terrible episode myself, I have reasons to believe that it might just be the "plague" of the 21st century.

After being asked and get my lumps checked, I started convincing myself that, although most lumps are harmless, I was the one who had the really dangerous type. I went as far as having panic attacks, nightmares and even thinking that if this wasn't the case, then I probably had some other horrible and unimaginable disease. I went so far as to get myself checked for many other diseases (which in itself it's a good thing, especially as I came out clear) and the more I got reassurance on some, I wanted to check other possibilities. But somehow this had to stop, as feeling the way I was feeling contributed to a rapidly declining state of mind, which was affecting my day to day life. And if my biggest fear was to lose my life, well, I wasn't quite living it, was I?...

After doing a quick search on the disease and finding out how closely it related to depression and schizophrenia, I still didn't understand the extent to which this apparently harmless and mockable condition could affect someone's life until I found out that so many of my friends had been through similar episodes. Close friends came up to me and confessed similar phobias, whether it was fear of heart attack, cancer or bubonic plague.

I don't base my statement on any evidence(I am sure I can find one, if I must) so you'll have to trust me on this one, but it seems that the increased awareness of certain types of diseases makes them the top of the hypochondriac's shopping list. I also tend to believe that the mounting level of information and statistics regarding deaths and cases of terminally illnesses, influences people nowadays to believe that one day it is going to happen to them...

Why do we get like that? I mean, I am sure nobody wants to go through hell and back thinking about illness and death, so there must be something more subtle at work. Based on my own experience, I believe that a certain level of stress and feeling of unachievement can easily trigger it. When happy, we don't really listen to our bodies, but when we feel low, everything surfaces. Our body reacts to the instructions of our mind.

Someone mentioned to me the other day that it might be related to the Quarter Life Crisis (I couldn't have said it better myself: Read about Quarter Life Crisis) which more and more people go through nowadays. Other will argue that we live in blessed times when opportunities are higher than ever and it's not fair for the people of the 21st Century to go through Quarter Life Crisises when they have so much more than their predecessors, including a higher life expectancy! I would probably answer to those people that then again we are brought into this world with higher expectations and not meeting them (which is probably the case of most people) makes us feel like we are failures and gets us steps closer to depression and related states of mind. Perhaps that's why we are so afraid of disease and death. Because we haven't fulfilled our mission, haven't reached our goals and we are terrified that we will leave this world without having lived up to the standards.

Yes, hypochondria is an expression of all that and not something we should joke about. I noticed that being part of a small community of hypochondriacs did help and I urge anyone who has ever felt that kind of desperation to give a helping had to someone in distress. An article published in the Guardian in 2007 ("How do you cure Hypochondria?") talks about methods of dealing with the irrational fear of illness and thankfully, there is hope. Apparently, receiving reassurance from your doctor doesn't remove the fear. The sufferer is trapped in his/her own mind and cannot escape without help. I hope this can help...

I still haven't received my diagnosys, but I am hoping that hypochondria is not one of them...