Bitchiness

I did not notice when, but now I know exaclty why we have gotten our current moral values. We go to places we do not really like, we buy gadgets and clothes that are not really comfortable for us to impress people who just don't care. People with botoxed faces and filled bottoms leave the impression of being so careless and look and behave so contentless that the younger generation does not have role models to follow. 

When I said I know why, I meant it. People do not know how to take care of themselves. They are not taught it. They have always been well groomed, but not a single trauma was ever worked on and soothed. Our parents, mines for sure, failed to teach us self-care. As a result, we have a generation of people with Saturn in Capricorn (coudn't help) who know how to earn money, but don't know where to direct it. We have middle aged single mothers who are proud but unhappy, we have handsome young men looking for satisfaction but ending up feeling useless and used. We have people scared of commitment and care. People avoid care. They dread care. Because when we care we get attached. Attachment is perceived as addiction and weakness nowadays. Social media advertises bitchiness. It is trendy to be a bitch. It is not trendy to be human. It is not cool to be empathic and loving, attentive and vulnerable.

For the sake of self defense and in response to childhood traumas some women have opted for the mask of a bitch, who seems invincible and strong, but who needs a proper hug from a real men to melt into a jelly. Our selfless granmothers are giving in to our bitchy granddaughers. I don't want my granddaughter to be a bitch. I want her to be open to love, able to give and take care. I want her to look at bitches and see how exactly she should not be. I wholeheartedly believe she will be rick in soul enough to let herself be vulnerable and truly authentic. 

I did not go into defining the word bitch here because it's clear I do not mean the female dog ;-)

Life-life balance

 Have you ever seen people in the waiting room of a chemo department? There’s so much pain and hope and expectations and determination in their eyes. They invest their very best to even slightly increase their life expectancy. It’s interesting to follow how with every session people adapt to their “destiny” and pass through this stage with dignity and faith.

As I sat there on the first day, I was thinking about the paradox of people struggling to prolong their already miserable life( due to a myriad of health issues and body malfunctioning) , while other jump from the bridge because of supposedly unrequited presumably love or hanging them selves because of their inability to take a courageous responsibility for their lame choices.

As I look at everything from the soul experience perspective and find astrological explanations to every deed, it’s easy to find answers to the questions that awake. But still… it’s so interesting to observe how people change while waiting in the chemo department… be it for a treatment or that of their beloved ones. 

People lose people

 

Lovers' park, Davook's bear
December 2019

It was back in 2010 ..I was about to graduate college, when my coursemate who I thought was my  bestie started to turn into a stranger (you know this feeling) and said in a conversation (not to me, just randomly) that people cannot lose people because noone belongs to anyone. In other words, we do not own people. Ever since that day I had been trying to instill it into my brain that it is impossible to lose anyone since noone owns anyone. And I was quite successful until recently...

What happened recently was that I have just lost many more and in bulks and thought about whether I lost them or what. I was inclined to think "or what", but then it struck me that people do own little particles of their loved ones. And it is when the relationship gets the first cracks that little by little these pieces are either returned to the owner or thrown into the wind. Sledom are they kept and cherished with gratitude.

In contrast, have you ever met a former partner or a friend after a while, say a decade, and gotten the vibe that there is still something small and unique and rare and exceptional between you too? This may be your ex-boyfriend introducing his fiancee to you and you having the feeling it is still you who he tries to impress, because you still matter. 

This week I heard of five deaths and visited two wakes. Losing physical bodies of our dearly beloved ones is another topic to elaborate on, but it is the loss of connection between souls that I am talking about here today.

It has become so trendy to encourage everyone to just move on, let go of "outdated" relationships. People try to be "self-enough", and do not always remember that we are social creatures, indeed. Moving from one person to another so rapidly is not exactly similar to bees jumping from flower to flower.          

People lose people and then find them in their shared bottles of wine, songs and food, parks and smells. Isn't this bad? How pleasant it is to recover a memory of years ago with a person who is not there for us anymore. And we are deeply convinced they have forgotten about us, but, as a matter of fact, they are as needy as us, and also, as insecure as us. "Self-enoughness" is insecurity, as to me, but I will talk about it some other time.

People do lose people. nevertheless. Because yes, we belong to the ones we give our time, hopes, love, expectations, care. By sharing our most valued possessions we give our particles, and with losing them we lose the people or vice versa. 

Happy Vardavar!

p.s.  Did you notice what was written on the bear's Tshirt?

Adulthood fears smell of childhood insecurities

 I have taken up ice skating recently. Why? Cause one astrologer suggetsed to try scating to relieve aggression (of which I have tons). I went to the rink with a favorite student, and with two of them...Yesterday, as I was trying to push my tired and heavy body towards the unpolished ice surface a fear of not holding my physical weight and psychological load of failures captured me. And I recognized this fear. Like in Holiwood movies, I went back in my memories to over twenty years ago, when I was trying to master the art of roller skating. It was mesmarizing to feel this relation to the old-fellow fear, the one I had or hadn't overcome years and years ago. And then it hit me once again how circlic our life span is. Situations repeat over and over again...until we learn the lesson. 

A student at work mentioned one Trump book ten days ago. I asked to bring it to me for a read. As I started it, it looked a little not interesting to me, but I kept on reading to figure out at this very moment of last January morning blog post (after ritual Marlboro and in complete tranquility and harmony) the universe tries to create the most appropriate environment for my childhood insecurities to be finallly overcome. The book is all about not giving up, and overcoming obstacles, and finding the courage, and my routine is all about practice.

I have been coming across a word "eggregor" or something like that, which is basically the incidental occurence of one and the same phenomenon all around us for a reason. Probably that's the fear story. It came to draw my attention towards my fears, of which I thought I had none. I have created this image of strong independence, absolute determination and endless devotion so well, that I myself sometimes fail to remember of what I am made of. The asnwer is "insecurities" I guess...

Loss is gain

 I know this well, and can name endless examples to demonstrate. To begin with, when I failed my university entrance exam for history I lost my hopes to enter the Faculty of International affairs, but I gained an opportunity out of literally nowhere to find my dream profession and live happy 14 years doing the job I adore. I lost my dream, I found my vocation.

And then again, in the university it was, that I lost my best friend and first love. What had I gained I realized years afterwards- the most valuable gain of all- first love and a beautiful youth. What we had back when we were 18 was so pure and clean, no lies, no expectations, just us- honest, vulnerable, young, uncomplicated, unambitious. I lost my first love object, I gained my first love story, and the object is still around and keeps me happy by his mere existence on the planet.

I have lost three employments so far- all with my intent. I appeared in the right place at the right time, and after having completed my missions I had to leave, to move on, to go to the next level of the video game. I lost my jobs, and I found my next jobs. I lost old, and I gained new.

I will not be able to recover in my memory all the friends I have lost throughout my recent life, but yet again, I am so appreciative of them entering and leaving my life. No relationship suffers unless it is expired and exhausted. And if the connection is lame, why should people hold on to it? For what? I have lost many friends, some of them, true friends, to my own surprise, but I have always gained, excuse me please, even better friends in return.

I never cling to the old. I respect it, I honor it, I cherish it, but I easily lose it...because it is by losing that I always gain!

 Երևի սենց էլ ամբողջ կյանքս քեզ սիրելով մնամ,

Ուրիշներից հոտդ առնեմ, երգդ լսեմ ու քեզ սպասելով մնամ:

Ամեն կինոյի մեջ ռոմանտիկ պստմությունը իմ ու քո վրա դնեմ,

Մազերիդ կոպտությունը զգալով, սիգարետիտ հոտից փախնող,

Բայց քեզ սիրող մնամ:

Քո մասին խոսելիս, գրելիս, լսելիս խնդացող ու լացող մնամ,

Ամեն օր քեզ ավելի շատ հասկացող, ընդունող ու սիրող մնամ:

Երևի տենղ էլ կյանքիս մյուս կեսն ապրեմ ու քեզ նվիրված մնամ,

Երևի ծերանանք ու ցնդենք, բայց էլի իրար սիրով գնանք:

Եթե քեզ չսիրեի, երևի լավ լիներ, թեթև լիներ, հանգիստ ու հեշտ լիներ,

Բայց ոչ երգ կհասկանայի, ոչ կինո կնայեի, ոչ Լուսնին կաղոթեի,

Երևի դու չլինեիր, մի ուրիշը լիներ, ինձ հարմար կլիներ, ես էլ լավ կզգայի,

Բայց որ դու չլինեիր ես երևի չէ, հաստատ, սա չէի զգա: 

Եսիմ թե: Չգիտեմ: Չեմ իմանում, չեմ հասկանում,

Բայց մի բան կա, որ կլինի, ու շատ եմ վախենում:

Անջատ լինենք, լուր չունենանք, չխոսենք, չշփվենք,

Մենակ թե մի օր մեն-մենակ շիրիմիդ ես չգամ: