Unconventional family, Tolstoy's opening line and Disneyland

Thanks to my choice of living I have had a chance to understand and to experience the Tolstoy's opening line of Ana Karenina: All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Sometimes we have a family days, my ex-husband, our daughter and I. We spent all week or more together like a regular family. It is fun, like a going to Disneyland or seeing the latest blockbuster in the cinema. It feels like a template of living. Even though the comprehension of  life provides us with the understanding that this is a short-term happiness, we still allow ourselves to (ab)use these moments. It is human belief that things can be improved; that love stories can be saved; that dreams can find their hazardous way to become reality. Yes, all of it is more than possible; all of it happens all the time, but what about the things which have the tendency to  follow our moments of happiness like a dark shadows? 

Those things are happening simultaneously. Life is a game of light and darkness. 

​What about the situations in life when we find ourselves as part of collateral damage? What about our lost loves? Nevertheless, what about our broken or forgotten dreams? 

​Sorrow is equally as precious as love; hurting makes room  for improvement of empathy and solitude can sometimes be the greatest company. 

​Beautiful people you used to know are not necessary the ones you share your present with, but not being part of your life does not make them less beautiful. Lost loves are like butterflies- tragedy is crucial part of their existence. ​So, we have a choice, even when it does not seem so. We can accept or refuse; we can settle with ordinary or we can seek someting unique. We can do whatever we feel like doing or whatever we ever wanted. 

But, do we completely understand the difference between our dreams and our fears? 

You can choose your starting point as empathy or religion, but it is crucial to make a humble observation of your transience and human vulnerability. Is our fate the path we follow, or do we create the path for ourselves? It is a personal inner debate, and it is essential for understanding the distinction between our longings and our  aims. 

I believe in God, I trust in life and I love people. 

When I was younger I thought I knew exactly what I wanted from life, but along the way I realized I had just a sketch designed by my imagination within my mind. Life is the canvas (even this metaphor sounds cheap). We hope we can draw with our desires, but eventually we do it with our actions. We are mapping our lives by choosing our next step, all the while dancing under the moonlight or crying in the dark. I love to compare a life with the sea; I see both as a movement of the greatest force. 

As years passed I learned to truly embrace my imperfect life and the people who are or who were part of it; I accepted all brokenness of humans relations. In the meantime I started to live in the present moment , instead of daydreaming of future I was longing for. Yes, I do have quality time with my unconventional family, but I also  have time for my highly appreciated  much sought after creative solitude. In the personal choice of independent  living social labeling is useless. The traditional norms are needless- only beliefs and human ethics are really relevant.  The aim is to make a collection of all meaningful moments we have had a chance to  pass through.  At the end of our journey in our memory only the joyful moments and sparks of happiness will remain.   

Thanks to my choice of living I have had a chance to understand and to experience the Tolstoy's opening line of Ana Karenina: All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

​I guess, we are a happily unhappy family; we have a family days without going to Disneyland. ​

Catwoman will save a day (with the puppy look in her eyes)

On the beginning of my twenties I used to date an older guys. They made me feel special; they made me feel spoiled. Simply, I felt as a young girl should feel: like a princess. From them I  learned how to be grateful to my youth, how to enjoy the time and the present moment, further on to dream big, to explore my inner world, to understand how to love my body, the other person, their fears and worlds around us. They loved me, they admire me, they broke me and eventually  helped me to grow up. I still love those few individuals and their madness as I love my favorite writers. 

The thing I love about them the most is that they never changed; they remain to be a lunatics, socially unexceptionable, emotionally unreachable,  now in their forties, but still caring around the boy's dreams and boy's heart. They loved life and all manifests of it. I was always smart enough to understand that the only person whom you should try to save from the inner demons is yourself. Even then, success is not guarantied. The funny thing is that I was always ready, despite common sense,  as every young believer is, to trade my dreams and my heart for salvation of their brokenness.  Luckily or unfortunately, depends of your perception, I was saved by my own demons and my broke illusions at the end.

But that is the new chapter, the broken ones. I loved those men. I think I still do. Those are the most intense and most hopeless emotional relationships; you love his imperfections, but for some reason, which none of evolved understands, you try to fix it; you try to help him.  He might asks for the help, but to tell you the truth, he does not really want it; he simply enjoys your good will to sacrifice for him. But, once when you are distanced and you can see clearly what this all was about, you understand how stupid you were, but you do not regret! How fake it  was? Fake enough to believe in ti!  But, you are young, you are now aware of your innocent blindness and so it shall be forgiven!

As time was passing I spotted the young ones. The beautiful boys with big dreams, but shy individuals. Insecure ones. The ones with a lot of potential to grow up into men every girl or woman dreams of, but the boys with the lack of courage. 

So, what I did? I tried to encourage them. To provoke them to think big, to be brave, to become aware how beautiful they are (I believe everyone is, but I find some people more beautiful then others; the one with the vision I admire the most) and how to keep up with this (re)mark in their lives. 

Everyone needs encouragement; someone gets it for free from local lunatics, and the others pay for it with their smashed self-esteem, with their tears, and most important with their lost time.

I am 29 today. I do not need encouragement anymore, but I am truly enjoying to raise awareness of people how beautiful they are, how big they can grow, how far their imagination can take them, if they would only try to believe. 

To believe in my words, in the look of a stranger, in the impossible, in their hopes in third person's dreams, in their own strength. If  they would only allowed themselves to escape this judgmental environment, they would discover that there are a parallel universes in their everyday's lives! Your dreams are reality there; there can become here if you deeply believe in magic.

The truth is: there are people whom trust in you more that you trust in yourself. 

Some of my already forgotten loves made their way out of this madness called socially acceptable behavior, adult expectations, real life and the other bullshit. They saved their souls and shared their beauty with those whom are cable to recognize it in their art or simply in their humanity. 

There was a lot of, more or less, significant men in my life, even though I cannot recall some of their names. There were also the ones I used to dream about years after, but regardless the fact that  I was always surrounded with more men, rather then women during my twenties, the women are those whom truly made an impact in my life, and whom inspired me the most. 

I do not know a lot of woman, but those l know I had admired from the beginning.

Those women are storms; they are hurricanes of alien energies, waterfalls of fresh inspirations, and nevertheless, they are goddess and warriors for their believes and dreams; they are braver than any men I ever cross the path with. Each of them is a Catwoman and owns the avenue of  her broken dreams, lost loves and past lives. All of them are proud, but, in the same time, humble. All of those women own the universe within.

Women I admire are cats with the puppy look in their eyes, but with the dragon's fire in their hearts.  

Catwoman will save a day.  Trust me.