As I dozed off on the dusty couch for an afternoon nap, I pondered on the nature of privilege and privacy. The fact that I could arrive in this room to sleep in the middle of the day. That I have friends with extra couches and blinds on their windows to shut out the sun.… Continue reading Temporary
Experiment of freedom
There was a dream and then there wasn’t. As soon as I woke up, I forgot all of it. Still, I grabbed my notebook and wrote down three sentences: The concept of free will is a factor of the ego. Any act of freedom leads to pain. Love will set us free. The what? I… Continue reading Experiment of freedom
Purpose of pleasure
The bench was made of wood and by the greyish cracked texture, had been there for a time. It was placed on top of a small hill, overlooking the sea its waters shadowy from a cloudy day. A mild wind was scraping at the water surface, creating a rippling effect. As I took my seat… Continue reading Purpose of pleasure
The Ego and the Spirit
Who am I? The eons-old human question – who are we? Naturally, we are the ones that know our name, title, geography, sex, our list of positions and achievements. But aren't these just a tiny parts of us? A label, a medal, a happenstance.Who is aware of all that we are? I can be aware… Continue reading The Ego and the Spirit
Did I win?
We set out for the race, all three of us on horseback. The finish line was twenty long units away and we were all prepared to grab that trophy. I looked down at the gleaming tack of my chestnut mare, full of power to carry me all the way. We can win this, I thought.We… Continue reading Did I win?
Weight of ideas
I have one of those over-analyser brains, so I tend to dream a lot. This time I don’t mean the night-time adventures, even if they are getting increasingly more bizarre. Imagine: last night I got dizzy spinning inside a massive white soup plate with some dream-friends. Besides people, the plate was half-filled with spaghetti dripping… Continue reading Weight of ideas
Last night I only had one hand. It was my right hand, which I kept covered with a red satin glove, glittering all over with tiny sparkling Swarovskis. It was my only hand and I had made it my artefact, my most treasured body part. Living with one hand was uncomfortable. It made me cranky… Continue reading One handed
It’s a string
I'm enjoying myself immensely in this dream. With a merry-band-of-misfits we laugh and joke and adventure until nature calls, and I need to excuse myself from the sweet band of companions I can no longer recall.I walk down a long corridor to find the nearest bathroom. It's clean and bright with three stalls. I pick… Continue reading It’s a string
Last night I dreamed. I was in a large workshop space, light wooden floors, colourful textiles with inspiring quotes on the walls. A circle of people, including myself, sitting on sturdy pillows. A teacher standing in the center of the circle. That's odd, I remember thinking. In most workshops, teachers don't stand in the middle… Continue reading One task