Cand nu te mai (re)gasesti in tine

Imagineaza-ti ca esti inchisa intr-o camera si ca ai atarnate pe perete o serie de tablouri/ ipostaze cu tine in diverse momente din viata; tablouri cu zecile, sutele. Tu in fiecare din ele, de fapt, proiectiile personalitatii tale, totului tau unitar, vizavi de realitatea inconjuratoare a.k.a prieteni, familie, colaboratori, cunostinte, etc. Cum spuneam, esti tu, cel/cea pe care ti-ai dorit, de multe ori constient, de mult prea multe ori subconstient, sa il/o arati. Hai sa repet, sa parafrazez: tu ai facut in asa fel incat cei din jur sa te vada, perceapa, inteleaga, aprofundeze, observe, intr-o anume lumina, si dintr-o data vine cineva, o forta invizibila, cu un topor in mana sau o bata sau orice obiect contondent, si sparge fiecare tablou. Azi unul, maine unul sau chiar doua si tot asa … cam asta inseamna acum terapia pentru mine: multe tablouri distruse, nimicite, reduse la praf si pulbere si cioburi. Si eu ce fac acum cu ele? sunt ale mele, nu? eu le-am creat, eu le-am nascut, eu le-am perpetuat, numai ca acum ele sunt o frumoasa adunatura de foste sau inca actuale euri; complicat, nu? cu fiecare noua sedinta mai distrug un mit, mai adaug la gramajoara niste reziduuri, hai sa nu le zic reziduuri, suna urat si poate incorect, mai adun niste ramasite. Ori eu cum mi le asum acum? asa … dezorganizate, libere si in cadere libera, divizate si ….you get the point. Pai … e al naibii de greu, de solicitant, de complex si usturator. Da, pentru ca te doare prin tot corpul, doare sa te dezbraci de ceea ce stiai tu ca esti si totusi nu esti si tu stiai ce nu esti. Undeva, pe dinauntru, stiai, dar nu erai nebuna sa recunosti, e mai comod si firesc sa bagi sub pres, sa nu te dai de gol. Uite totusi ca a devenit sufocant si apasator si iese la suprafata. Defulezi, te cureti, cioburile alea sunt parti din tine, mai bune sau mai rele, dar ale tale 100% indiferent ca vrei sau ca nu. In mod ideal in fata ta se va ridica o oglinda si te vei vedea poate pentru prima oara asa cum nu ti-ai permis sa o faci pana acum. Dar si asta presupune rabdare, rezilienta, aprofundare si, in final, acceptare. Si mai presupune o nevoie imperioasa de schimbare. A ta cu tine. Pentru ca nu te mai intelegi uneori, pentru ca nu te mai gasesti, pentru ca iti e greu sa duci fiecare zi in carca si pentru ca dezechilbrul din tine e prea mare si continua sa se adanceasca cu fiecare zi in care stai si-l vizualizezi ba chiar contempli fara sa ii aduci vreo modificare. Pentru ca te simti un fake, pentru ca nu stii sa-ti explici cum ai ajuns aici si te temi ca vad si altii prin tine.

Presupunand ca treci de etapa cu oglinda si ca ajungi la acceptare, pasul urmator ar fi sa te intrebi: cine o sa ma mai placa asa? cine va mai “vorbi” cu mine? pai … si, da, va suna siropos si rascolitor de adevarat si des intalnit – TU – doar tu poti sa te placi pe tine pentru ca apoi sa ai pretentia sa ceri si celorlalti sa o faca.

De multe ori in ultimul timp am crezut ca ceea ce mi se releva in timpul terapiei e ca o sentinta finala care va influenta absolut fiecare aspect al vietii si al relatiilor mele cu cei din jur, dar nu e mereu chiar asa. Alegerea e la tine, tu te recalibrezi, daca vrei, tu te adaptezi si ajustezi, nu cei din jur. Cat timp exista procesul numit “evolutie” si cat timp ma angrenez in el, cat timp imi dau voie sa ma las afectata de el, am posibilitatea si alegerea personala de a imi schimba optica si perspectiva, dar mai ales modul in care ma raportez la fluxul de informatie pe care il primesc si pe care ma straduiesc sa il inteleg. Da, voi fi destul de circumspecta cu reactiile mele, imi voi pune mai multe intrebari decat de obicei, ma voi distanta atat cat voi considera necesar pentru a-mi da voie sa ma privesc in oglinda fara sa ma mint. Si ma voi apropia cand voi sti ca sunt pe drumul cel bun. Nu cred ca exista sentinte finale cum nu cred ca exista doar alb si negru.

VA URMA …

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Pregatiri de sarbatori…

Te loveste in plex. La inceput e doar un drum ce trebuie efectuat pentru ca apoi sa-l tai de pe lista. Nu te poti ascunde si nici macar nu ai de ce sa o faci. Oricum o dai si orice ai zice, mersul in cimitir pentru a atarna o coroana ornamentala (Craciun, sarbatori, asa se face la noi, deh, cica trebuie) la crucea tatalui tau te rascoleste. Si ajungi acolo, te apuci minutios de treaba, cauti unghiul potrivit, iti repeti in gand ca atunci cand vei veni cu mama (a doua zi de Craciun, tot dupa datina) ea va analiza si va evalua succesul sau esecul demersului tau, deci must not screw up! si cand aproape ai terminat, vezi ceea ce inconstient evitai – poza lui …si te izbeste: durerea, furia, neputinta, tristetea, dorul, dorul asta nemilos si crunt…. si te pui pe plans pentru ca doar asta poti sa faci. Te-ai abtinut destul. Te descarci si apoi pleci spre casa unde te duci sa executi pregatiri de sarbatoare; numai ca tu ai vrea orice mai putin asta. Pana la urma a devenit si asta normalul tau de cand el nu mai e. Un normal ce incomodeaza si te strange la suflet, dar un normal pe cat de normal, pe atat de anormal perceput de mintea si simturile tale.

Thank you for the music, Dad!

Growing up in my household you’d notice several things being repeated daily: me chasing my younger brother to hug and kiss him and occasionally nag him, my mom cooking and going out of her way to convince us, her extremely picky children, to eat the food she was putting on the table, and my dad blasting music whenever he could. He loved music! Oh, boy, how he loved listening to music! My most vivid memories of him revolve around his passion for this form of art and how he would incorporate that in his day to day activities.

Let me set the picture and elaborate further. I am talking about post-Communist Romania, a freshly democratic state trying to catch up with the West; what better way to do that than by watching MTV?!?! That is back when MTV used to play music videos and had decent programming. I’m talking about the MTV of the 90’s, to be more exact. My father’s generation had little access to the cultural movements that were taking place in Europe, freedom of speech was not encouraged, and they were forced fed “educational” shows that were in line with the Communist Party policy. Censorship  was in full effect and everyone was mindful of who to trust even when sharing personal taste in music or books. This is why I consider myself lucky to have grown up in post-revolutionary Romania, back then you could actually appreciate freedom of expression and people were not taking it for granted. Therefore, a lot of my childhood memories involve Dad turning on the TV and letting MTV play in the background while he would turn up the volume every time a song he liked came on.

My father was a seafarer, which meant that he would spend up to 6 months a year aboard a commercial vessel travelling the world or better put, its oceans and seas. Upon returning home, he would always bring us something from his voyages. Cue to my first ever walkman. For all you born prior to the Apple revolution or after the year 2000 this is the great grandfather of the iPod. I remember being so happy that I could finally listen to whatever type of music I wanted even if that meant having to buy cassette tapes (another ancient word that bares no meaning to today’s youth). But the biggest joy of all occurred when dad brought me my first cassette/ CD player. I was bursting with pride and excitement. You had 3 methods of listening to music – via cassette, CD or radio. Talk about upgrade! This is when dad introduced me to the kind of music he liked. From this moment on I embraced artists such as: Aerosmith, UB40, Bruce Springsteen, Tina Turner, Dire Straits, Peter Gabriel, Status Quo, Celine Dion, BB King, Eric Clapton and many more.  He had some very eclectic musical tastes, my dad. Something which I inherited myself, thankfully. Apart from the devices themselves, he would also buy CDs, lots of them, and share them with me. I can’t even begin to describe how precious these memories are to me and how much I appreciate being given a musical culture courtesy of my father.

My dad passed away 5 years ago, 2 months short of turning 50. He had battled cancer bravely and with dignity but his body decided it couldn’t do it anymore. Although he knew that he had passed on to me his love of music, I never really got the chance to tell him “thank you”. I never really got to tell him how he influenced my entire existence, how because of him my world, my life, my adventures, my sorrows, my core values feel and sound so much better. I will always regret not being able to take him to a concert with me and never having the opportunity to dance next to him. However, while I was recently reading Amy Poehler’s supremely sincere and fascinating book “Yes Please”, I got attached to an excerpt where she describes time travelling or at least her interpretation of it. It is really sweet and I’m sure many of us have felt something similar throughout our lives. About a week afterwards, I went to the mechanic’s to have my car fixed (I am currently driving my dad’s car) and out of the blue the CD player in the car started to function again (it had been broken for some time and I never really had time to fix it). As the first song began to play, I realised that I had made that CD for my father years ago. It had on a couple of UB40 tracks, one of his all time favourite bands, as well as some more contemporary stuff like The Chemical Brothers and Moby. I told you the man had eclectic taste :). I was obviously transported to that period when dad was healthy, alive and enjoying turning up the volume. I drove the rest of the way crying and remembering all the times he was able to put a huge smile on my face. I was crying and laughing at the same time and basically time travelling my way out of that situation.

So, “THANK YOU, DAD!” I miss you and I need you!

Must love cookies …

(South Africa hotel room)

– You drove 2 hours to get me my favourite type of chocolate chip cookies?!?! cookies that remind me of home, cookies bought from the same supermarket that sells them in my country?!?!

-Well, yeah… I know how much you like them, plus I’m trying to put back a smile on your face (grins widely). Every time you see me now you scowl, granted, I deserve that, I was an asshole, but still…

-Can we please not have that conversation again? The jury is out on that one and I’d rather we focus on other things at the moment (reaches for the blue folder on the table and the cookies).

-Listen, I need to talk to you about something … (gets anxious and fidgety). I love you!

-I love you, too! just because you can act like an arrogant prick sometimes doesn’t mean that I forget all the good things about you.

-Liv, I LOVE you!!! not in a friend loves another friend kinda way …

-Huh?!?!

-I love you in a man loves a woman kind of way!

(she shakes her head in disbelief, looks at him)

-You mean … you love me in a Michael Bolton “When a man loves a woman” kind of way ??

-Yes! :)) I do love you in a Michael Bolton “When a man loves a woman” kind of way, but I also love you in a M. Bolton -“Can I touch you there” way because #you #sexualattraction. I need to hear your thoughts on this matter, Liv!

-Well, (she panics, takes a deep breath) …then …. I would like to say that I love you in a Michael Bolton “Said I loved you but I lied” kinda way! (pauses, looks at him straight in the eyes)…. wow, we really good at this Michael Bolton song references thing (giggles).

-How about we end the night in a Nine Inch Nails “Closer’ kinda way ??? (James devilishly suggests)

-SOLD!!!

JUST DO!

Inmarmurita am ramas cand am vazut prima oara acest videoclip. Dansul este Andrew Scott, pentru unii James Moriarty din Sherlock Holmes (BBC version), pentru mine, un actor fantastic pe care sper sa ajung sa-l vad live pe o scena de teatru. Cu un impresionant background in teatru, Andrew arata aici ce poate face o persoana talentata si vadit inzestrata intr-ale artei teatrale atunci cand se foloseste de mimica, gestica, tonalitati diferite, tempouri, pe scurt – limbaj verbal si non-verbal. Il ador pur si simplu 😀 , in caz ca se mai intreba cineva !

El citeste scrisoarea artistului vizual american Sol LeWitt (Wikipedia il crediteaza ca fiind fondatorul artei minimaliste si conceptuale) catre sculptoarea Eva Hesse. Da, este motivational, inspirational, magnific, viu, brut si transpira genialitate (in umila mea parere). Departe de a fi vreo flacara creatoare, ce m-a atins pe mine, in afara de insiruirea de cuvinte terminate in “ing” (0:37 – 01:20) si crescendo-ul lor pana la momentul de climax … e simplitatea & visceralitatea sfaturilor pe care LeWitt le transmite: “Learn to say FUCK YOU to the world!”, “Shock yourself”, “Make your own world (…) your own uncool”, “Practise being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty!” Luati de aici ce se aplica la tumultul personal, adaptati si ideal, actionati!

Am vazut clipul asta de vreo cateva zeci de ori, il am in telefon si il ascult destul de des, daca ma simt abatuta sau ingandurata, la el recurg pentru o schimbare de perspectiva! Pentru ca e simplu – apuca-te si fa ceva pentru tine! nu mai da din gura de pomana, nu te mai minti, lupta cu temerile si senzatia paralizatoare de frica sau “aoleoo, ce vor zice ceilalti?” nu e ca si cand iti va taia cineva capul pentru ca ai incercat sa iesi din coconul tau. Cerceteaza, indrazneste, intreaba, scrie, numa’ evita sa tii ascunse in tine lumi si idei! JUST DO!