that time I moved

I've moved around quite a bit.  An "I can't take this place anymore!" feeling accompanied most of these moves for different reasons.
When I moved from Istanbul to Athens it was a relief because I hated my manager at that time
When I moved from Athens back to Istanbul it was a relief because all my neighbors were getting robbed and I was scared to sleep at nights.
When I moved from Istanbul to Dubai it was a relief because I was finally away from the aggressive traffic and the crowd.
When I moved from Dubai to Asia it was a relief because I could no longer take the corporate life.

Brown Iguana, Image by DogMom Librarian

However, when I was moving from Bali to Istanbul two months ago I didn't have that feeling at all. I wasn't fed up with anything. In fact everything was as good as it could ever be.
I was staying in a small place with a Balinese family, a few meters away from a ravine. I was sleeping to the sound of the waterfall, waking up to watch iguanas sunbathing on coconut trees. I was enjoying the nature so much, most nights I was falling asleep out in the veranda.

I met the most amazing people in Bali, and had been very inspired by their stories. Ubud was the place that I discovered the wisdom of the "older", solo travelers. Mostly women. Coming from a place where people over 25 are considered as rather "expired", it was extremely refreshing to meet 60+ people who used their wisdom to do inner work and to bring improvements into the lives of others. With some people I've only shared a cup of tea, but those 20 minutes are still vivid in my memory. With some, I spent hours 5 days a week for many many months and felt that there's still so much to share. Teachers, neighbors, students, clients, friends, colleagues... Every contact, every relationship in Bali meant something and had huge impact on who I am today. I was always blessed with the right people around me.

It takes a bit of time to settle in somewhere and have a reputation in your work so that you would attract clients, right? Within 12 hours of landing to Bali, I had also landed on my first yoga teaching job. From that moment on, it just kept getting better and more. I was lucky to have a balance of paid and charity work. Especially with CranioSacral, I had a number of clients that I would probably expect after at least 4-5 years of experience. I was very busy and very happy about it.

So the weeks before I left Bali were golden. A peaceful life in nature, amazing friends, great work that enabled me to create difference in other people's lives. It was the first time that I was leaving a place at its peak, with a lot of good memories and confidence. Moving to Bali was a huge leap of faith and that was only one year ago. Everything was ambigious, but I knew I had to be there. Looking back, I feel that I was gifted with a happy life in Bali because I was able to trust and take that major step.


2 months ago, I even took a bigger leap of faith by moving to Istanbul. I lived here twice before and both times were very hard on me (to say the least). Yet deep down I feel that I have to be here again.
I am just curious if I will be able to continue trusting and what things will change in my life a year from today?

madonna and buddhism

This morning I woke up and browsed through the tweets of the previous night to see if anything interesting or important happened. A yoga journal tweeted about Madonna's Super Bowl show and how she is still amazing at the age of 53. I watched the video and there she was; once again in a very extravagant stage show. Songs were Madonna, but remixed. Her dance was Madonna but adapted. Her face was Madonna but obviously lifted. She was a chameleon and that was one of the main factors that kept her as the star for over 3 decades. 

Some people are stuck to a certain period of their lives. Careless college years, honeymoon months of a new relationship, or the peak years of the career. They fail to notice that with every passing moment, life changes. And that change requires adaptation. The minute we try to hang on the "good old days", we begin to suffer. We desire something that we don't have and we will never have again. The more we desire, the more time we spend fantasizing about that time. The more time we spend thinking what we had in the past, or how great it would be to have it again in the future the less we become aware of the present. Then maybe 25 years from now, we will look back in surprise and realize what made us such bitter and resentful old people...

Alternatively we can choose to go with the flow and live what present moment brings. Adapting to every new stage of life will always come with its own rewards. If Madonna was stuck in her "Material Girl" tunes and look, she would have disappeared as fast as Cyndi Lauper. If she stopped reinventing herself after Vogue, her name wouldn't be recited more often than Spice Girls. If she didn't take the bold risk of creating religious controversy (just after an album that sold 25 million), she wouldn't have been who she is right now. I see Madonna as a good example of Buddhism, at least in the way she works; continuously accepting that nothing is permanent and everything changes.

For those who might be interested in the three marks of existence in Buddhism and how change fits into that scheme, I created a little something:

journey in Asia takes a 10,000 kilometer shift

This is an old story, it happened about three months ago. I was indecisive for a long time if I should write it or not. Finally convinced myself that it’s better write it late than never…

End of September, I visited the forest monastery again – this time for 12 days only (You can read about the previous visit here, here and here). Most mornings, I was giving CranioSacral sessions to the monks and in the afternoons teaching group yoga classes. In the evenings, the most senior monk in the monastery was giving me private meditation sessions. The rest of the days were long walks in the forest, reading or fruit-picking. Days were busy and very productive. Monks were getting a lot of benefit from the CranioSacral and the yoga sessions so we were all very happy.

I had two free days in Bangkok between the monastery and Bali. So I wanted to visit the monk (let’s call him Phra) who arranged everything for me and thank him in person. Phra’s monastery is 1-hour south of Bangkok so I took the bus there. By the time I arrived, everyone was busy working with a senior monk who was visiting for the day (let’s call him Ajahn). I recognized him immediately because I saw few of his photos on the walls in other monsteries. As it’s the custom I was offered lunch and cold drinks as soon as I arrived. Seeing how busy Phra was, I wanted to keep my visit short. I thanked him for everything he’s done and organized for me.

As I was about to leave, Ajahn invited me closer to his desk and started asking questions. Ajahn didn't speak any English so Phra was translating for us. He asked how I liked the life in the monastery, what was I doing in Bali etc. Phra told him that I helped the monks via CranioSacral therapy and yoga. Ajahn closed his eyes for a moment,seemed to go really deep and then open his eyes to describe to me what CranioSacral therapy is. It was very interesting because not many people know it enough to describe it in their own words just by hearing it. It felt as if Ajahn was able to contact his inner wisdom and get all knowledge he needs from there. Then he asked me where I was from, I told him and again he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he told me that Turkey was a crowded country, with very little Buddhist presence and spirituality. Another accurate insight! I was reading a lot about how experienced Buddhist monks were very wise and insightful, but that was the first time that I had a personal experience of it.

At that time, I was contemplating if I should spend a few months in Istanbul to practice CranioSacral. I told this to Ajahn and his response was very surprising. He told me that I should not spend just a few months in Istanbul. Instead I should move there permanently! He said it was easy to live in forest monasteries and beautiful islands like Bali and help people there. He said that in forests life can get so comfortable and relaxed, that I can even forget my name. He added that the real challenge is to live in a city with extremes and try to accept them as they are; without trying to change, even without trying to make them better. Everything he said was so true, but not what I wanted to hear... I told him that I liked living in Bali, that Turkey was too aggressive and didn't have the spirituality of Asia. Looking directly into my eyes, Ajahn said "You are born in Turkey and you are going to die in Turkey!" That was a shock to me and looking at the expression on his face, also to Phra. Softening his tone a little, Ajahn added that no one is born randomly into countries. He said I've been around different countries long enough to absorb their wisdom and get a perspective. Yet it was time for me to move back and share whatever I've learned, in order to help people in my own country. He said that I cannot achieve anything by running away; anything I needed to face, anything that would challenge me to be better was "back home". It felt like a bombardment of ideas that I didn't want to hear because at a deeper level I knew that they were true. I sat there trying to absorb everything that I heard, while Phra and Ajahn were looking at me with the most compassionate eyes.

It was too much and too shocking to hear all that, at a time and place that I least expected. In the last 2 years most of  what I did, were the things I was afraid of.  Only a few more things were more scary than moving back to Istanbul  - I tried living in this city twice before and failed miserably both times. Feeling the support and the clarity of the monks, it felt like the best time to give it a third and a final try. 

That day, Ajahn spent 3 hours with me. Not only did he tell me that I should live and die in Turkey, he added how I should work. He almost gave me a business plan; he told me whom to work with, where to be located etc. I took out a pen and a notebook and he made me write down a detailed list of things I should do. It felt surreal, sitting in a monastery in Thailand, taking down notes on how I should live the rest of my life based on the words of a monk that I only met 3 hours ago. Things could have been lost in translation, he may not have been as wise as I perceived him. It was (and still is) the biggest leap of faith in my life but I took it. That evening as soon as I arrived back to Bangkok, I made arrangements for return tickets to Turkey.

Later I've learned that Ajahn was a very well-known monk. People from all over Thailand would go to his monastery to seek his advice and he would be very selective to share it. I was told that some of the business tycoons and even the Thai Secret Service would come to seek his advice before strategic decisions. And I happened to be visiting Phra's monastery on the day he was also visiting. He chose to spend 3 hours with me, changing my life with every word... Sometimes, some things seem a little more than coincidence, don't they?

men diet - part 2

1.  Do not touch the camera for a while and never date  photographers again:

From day one, I know it was not the wisest thing to attribute the whole thing to photography or to photographers. But if I hadn't blamed photography, I would have to start pointing the finger at myself. I was really not in the mood to analyze myself or my patterns only to suffer more after two breakups. 

+ it was great that I didn't have to drag my heavy camera bag everywhere I went and enjoyed just what my eyes captured in that moment. 

- apparently photography (like anything else) needs constant practice. Not practicing brought my photos to the level of a facebook snapshot from your average tourist.

- especially in humid climates like the tropics, being in a closed camera bag creates fungus on the lenses. Not all service centers can clear fungus and even if they can, it costs a fortune. One of my lenses was saved, however 2 are in critical condition and will probably be unusable in a year or two. I can say that the fungus on the lenses hurt a lot more than the two breakups. With time, emotional wounds heal, but fungus just keeps growing.  

2. Be in a men-diet for 11 months.

This was the wiser of my two decisions. Especially the first 4-5 months felt really good, like an extended summer break from boarding school. Around the 6th month, I started to regret my decision – 11 months felt ridiculously long. I'm sure this happened because I was in Istanbul around that time. And life in Istanbul is like in a Cosmo magazine – a lot of gossip and advice on men, relations, sex and not much more. So much obsession about men and relations had an impact on how I was feeling. During that time, I was almost sure that I would not be able to keep my promise and give up. Thankfully, it didn't happen. 

This was the time that I realized that temptation can take many different forms; chocolate, a good glass of wine, sleeping in someone's arms or desire for an earth-shattering orgasm. However different they appear to be, in reality they are reflections of the same craving. Craving for some different, heightened sensation than what I already have. And I noticed that if I can be aware of that craving but not act on it, it just melts away. With men, it invariably always took 3 days to melt. I see someone I like, I want to be witrh him like crazy and 3 days later I find myself completely alientated from that craving and from the guy...  Why 3 days I have no idea, but that was one of th most interesting discoveries of this whole process.    

Around 9th month, I realized that I got into the comfort zone too much and didn't really use the previous months for introspection or for changing my patterns.  I panicked a little, but I can't really force awareness, can I?

+ I felt very comfortable around men that I've just met or being introduced to. Subconsciously most of us tend to categorize members of the other sex as “potential dating material” or not as soon as we meet them. When that categorization if off the shelf, it's a whole different feeling.   

+ life became much easier and much simpler in so many ways. I was truly by myself in almost everything I did. No lengthy discussions, no undecisive moments where to have dinner, no misunderstandings, no fights, no jealousy, no long-term plans... Can you imagine that??? Instead a lot of spare time and energy to do things that I enjoy. This was probably the best aspect of the diet – so good that I cannot fully express it in words.  

+ I noticed that I don't really “need” a relationship. I am perfectly happy with myself and if I'm going to include someone in my life, he really needs to add a lot of value. That value is surely not money, not breakfast in bed or not someone to take care of me while I'm sick. It's something much deeper.  

- life became so much relaxed and simple that I'm not sure if I can get back to being with someone easily. The diet was supposed to last 11 months – it's been 17  months already and I now feel so much more comfortable in monasteries and around monks than anywhere else. More importantly, the monks feel very comfortable in my presence too. (A monk is never ever supposed to be alone with a woman, there has to be at least 2 more monks present and watching – but lately they've been trusting me so much, I work with monks one-to-one behind closed doors.) 

Feeling very easy in a monastery but cringing at the presence of a caring and interesting French man... This might be a good reference for a career as nun, but doesn't sound very promising for an average 37-year old, single woman.

So the diet brought awareness to my temptations, cravings and my fears. As boring as it sounds, it also made me more aware of “people”, rather than women, men, hot guys, handsome boys, dates etc. I feel much stronger because I can notice the temptations but I now know I have a choice of not acting on them. And when I don't act on them, I can see cravings for what they really are – just cravings that will pass away. 

Am I enlightened as to why I suffer in relationships? Not really. Still I can say that the “men diet” worked well; it brought answers to what I needed to know at this stage of my life, not to what I thought I have to know.    

men diet - part 1

Some recent events stirred up a lot in me and I started thinking about past relations.  I had been in a relationship for most of my adult life despite being very pro-single. Yet I very my much liked if my partner was at a distance, preferably as far as in another city of country. Too close and too predictable suffocated me. The idea of a husband was terrifying, because even the concepts like “always” or “forever” were too scary. I just couldn't imagine being with someone forever... Not because I'm polygamist or I cheat, but as soon as I know something or someone will be there forever, it loses its true meaning. In relationships, I always had my set of Fight Club rules and made them very clear. Rule number one: you do not propose to me, Rule number two: if you propose to me, you get dumped on the spot. A proposal, which brings tears of joy to the faces of many would suffocate me with fear and I'd run away like crazy.

Naturally being so rigid and so scared,  I broke many good boys and many bad boys broke me. Those who wanted a “normal” relationship with a caring and sharing person were hurt. Those who were even more terrified with the idea of a relationship than me, ended up hurting me.

In the recent years, I had two relationships that broke me a lot worse than the past ones . I was just getting familiar with the concept of commitment. Like a kid with a new science test kit, I was eager to play with it as soon as possible. Science kits, when played safely at home would probably teach a lot. I tried mine under unsafe conditions and it exploded in my face – twice. After the second breakup, I started to think where I went wrong; The guys were extremely different profiles, had completely different backgrounds and were even in different countries! Oh, the only thing common with them was both were photographers. I needed to find where I was going wrong in order to avoid repeating my mistakes. So to be on the very very safe side I took two decisions:
   
1. Do not touch the camera for a while and never date photographers again.
2. Start a “men-diet” for 11 months and use that time to figure out what goes wrong in my relationships. A men-diet meant no flirting, no dating, no physical intimacy in any way.

Why 11 months? No sensible reasons. There was a time in the past that I was single for 11 months (after a very long-term relation) and it seemed to clear the debris of the former relationship. So I thought if it worked in the past, it would work again.

All that was about than 18 months ago. Looking back, it was great in some ways and not so great in others.
to be continued...

to relate or not to relate

About two months ago, I had a dream. I was in a public bus in Istanbul and a geeky-looking guy starts a conversation with me. He has his friends with him and we all get in a very lively chat. I get to learn that he owns an internet company (yes, even in dreams I attract geeks) and he's also very smart (an IQ score above 120 is the sexiest thing for me). I really like him. After maybe about half an hour, the bus reaches my stop and I get off. By the time I step out of the bus, I intuitively feel that he will be my boyfriend in the near future and suddenly that light and elevated feeling of meeting someone I really like, turns into a very heavy load in my chest. All sorts of worries start to fill my head and I wake up with that very heavy and dark feeling... Some degree of attraction is fine, yet when there's the slightest possibility that it would turn into a relationship I freak out – even in a dream.

About a week ago I was flying to Bali from Bangkok. It was a very early morning flight and by the time my bum touched the plane seat, I started to fall fast asleep. It was one of these uncomfortable flight-sleeps where my head kept rolling here and there. Unfortunately most of the time, it rolled towards the chest of the passenger sitting next to me. Each time I'd wake up in panic and mumble “sorry” to him and immediately fall back asleep, only to find my head hovering somewhere near his chest again in a few minutes.  A few times he said “don't worry” with a smile. Then I noticed him closing all window blinds so that when the sun rises up I won't be disturbed. Then he reclined my seat (why hadn't I thought of that???) with the slowest, smoothest movements possible and my head finally rested in the tiny groove created between the seat and the window. The rest was a very comfortable and uninterrupted sleep for more than 2 hours.

I noticed how kind he was only after we landed. The plane was only half-full, he could have changed seats. Not only did he stay next to me, but he also did everything possible to make sure I was comfortable. Who would do that to a complete stranger in a flight? I know I wouldn't. We barely spoke afterwards, but as soon as I arrived to Ubud, I told my friends about the unbelievable “guardian angel” of my sleep. All agreed that it was unusually kind and sweet.

Tonight I was having dinner with friends and my guardian angel appears in the street out of nowhere! What are the chances of coming face to face with your flight-neighbor in an island with 5 million people and hundreds of different tourist destinations? I have been feeling very thankful towards him, so I invite him for a cup of tea one of these days. He says he's free in fifteen minutes so we meet much sooner than I expected, so I didn't have time to put my usual guards up. He's French, traveling around, arrived to Ubud just hours ago. We talk about museums in Europe, the history of Egypt and the like... However the conversation turns to a direction that I don't like because I don't know how to handle it. I thank him many times for his kindness. He says he would remember my sweet face anywhere and would do the same thing again. And he wouldn't mind staying in Ubud longer if he knew he'd be seeing me again. Oops!

He's got just the right amount of French accent, the kindest eyes I've seen in a long time, is truly caring and is a traveler. He says he's divorced and didn't have a relationship since then. So very Eat, Pray Love-ishly attractive right?   Not for me... I tense up and drink my hot tea so fast that he has to tell me to slow down so that I don't burn myself. He doesn't know that a scalding tongue is a relief compared to how I'm feeling at that moment. Thanks to my friends who were waiting for me around the corner, I have a quick excuse to leave the table. He says he'll call me again tomorrow. So here I am wide-awake at midnight writing all this.

The dream of a relationship makes me wake up feeling very heavy. The real-life possibility of a relationship gives me a sleepless night... Something's definitely not right in this picture, is it?

I can give up all material possessions and live out of a luggage in a small room. I can leave my comfortable profession and move to an Indonesian village not knowing what to expect. I can turn my back to a 6-digit income and don't mind calculating cents for lunch money. I am scared of all that, yet I would do (and have already done) these things... However up until this moment, I've never realized how terrified I was of an actual relationship, that even the idea of it tenses me up to a point of complete paralysis.

All the things I've been scared of are happening to me one by one... They are like yearly final exams at university. Something tells me that “a man” would be my ultimate graduation thesis. And I don't feel ready to work on any kind of thesis now – or in the next three decades or so...


ps1: image copied from http://nolongercensored.wordpress.com
ps2: After writing. I thought for two days whether I should post this or not. This subject seems to touch somewhere really deep. Hmm...

the rock

Before meeting Lance in Bali around March, I've always thought of Buddhism as a very “dry” belief centered around suffering. You meditate, notice the suffering in the world and then meditate some more... (Meditation by itself is a horrible form of suffering for me, my knees hurt and my mind constantly searches for an escape plan from the cross-legged seating.) On the other hand, Hinduism is spicy; countless gods, stories, rituals  and everything else. Buddhism doesn't have a god, heaven, hell, warriors that can jump across the ocean, that's why I thought it was dry. Talking to Lance and having a first hand experience of his Buddhist spiritual guides surprised me a lot and made me wonder what else is there...

Coming to Thailand with this different view point, talking to devoted Buddhists, visiting 2 major temples and living in one of them for about 3 weeks plus being blessed by one of the most powerful monks have completely changed my ideas about Buddhism. It is highly spirited, it has a very clear and strong energy. What we call “supernatural” is often considered as very natural in Thailand. Senior monks often have powers to bless, offer protection, sometimes even see the future or read minds. During ceremonies, people receive blessings or protective amulets from monks and use them everywhere. I've already received enough protective bracelets, pendants, holy ropes to use with the pendants that would probably last me for the rest of my life. This all makes sense to me, I've experienced the difference that the energy of these pendants and photos create so I do believe in them without a doubt.

meditating on the rock

Today  5 monks and one of the residents of the monastery took me to a sight-seeing tour. The first stop was to another monastery nearby. It was small and rather shabby, just a few hundred meters away from the border of Burma. I was told that the abbot had a stone that would answer questions about your future.  Hmm... We paid our respects, monks talked among themselves for a while and I sat there with a shy smile plastered across my face, knowing that I was the center of attention. A foreign woman arriving to a small monastery in the Burma border with 5 monks in a pick-up truck does attract some curiosity and I can understand that.

Then the abbot brought the stone from a locked room. I was told that he would never take it out for public; it was only for monks and for special occasions, which made me feel a little privileged. The abbot prayed and gave us a quick demo.  I would hold the stone in my hands, meditate on my question and choose a direction for the stone to move, then put the stone on the floor and my hands on it. If the answer is yes, the stone would turn in the direction I chose. If it's no, there would be no movement. 2 monks tried it. It didn't work for one of them, and there was a slight twist for the other.

and the rock starts to turn
notice the surprise in the faces of the monks?

It was my turn and I was a little scared; The question I had in my mind was a centrally important one for me and a negative answer would make me feel quite devastated. Yet I was curious. I took the stone and asked my question. I was told that I would need to meditate for a few minutes before the stone moves, but for me it started moving almost immediately towards left, which was the direction I chose along with my question. I was ecstatic for a positive answer but at the same time stunned by the movement I was feeling under my hands. The stone kept turning and the abbot told me to keep moving with it. Somewhere near 270 degrees, he told me to mentally aim for a right-turn as a confirmation to my question. I closed my eyes and did exactly as told and then the stone started to turn towards right! I followed it's movement for about another 180 degrees and then everyone was convinced
that my wish would come true. As I passed the stone to the next person who wanted to try, my hands were trembling in a high frequency. I was feeling the energy of the stone all the way up to my elbows. I sat in amazement and with gratitude for a while.

The stone started moving almost immediately for the next person too. But this time its movement was much faster and sharp. Later the abbot explained that the harder you press on the stone or the more weight you put on it the bigger the movement would be. In the past there were people who didn't believe in the power of the stone and instead of putting on their hands, they laid on the stone. The stone moved their whole bodies in fast circles! 

Having a first-hand experience is very different that hearing the story of something that happened to someone else. I believe in the powers of the senior monks and their protective abilities. I believe that one can purify his/her mind  through meditation to a level to see the future. I believe that chanting can change the energy of a place. I believe in all of that because I have experienced them.

Today was just another day in Thailand, just a little closer to Burma... And with a little more faith in my own future.

spider

There's a big spider in front of my room, the biggest I've seen in my life. His web is also big, wider than a meter in diameter. First days, I was scared that he would attack me so I kept my distance.

One morning as I was practicing my morning yoga, I noticed that he was also doing his own version of asanas, moving every leg towards his head and touching it with one of the front arms. He was surely more flexible than me. Taking a closer look, I noticed that he was missing a leg. In nature, that should mean a disadvantage, but apparently this spider survived and even got really big. Later he became my breakfast buddy. I would observe him while I eat. I came to learn how he does his yoga asanas, how he repairs his web, how he catches butterflies. More importantly, how he sits in complete stillness for hours when there's no prey or no work to be done on his web. He would come to the very center of his web, hang upside down and wait.

This morning I noticed that his web was completely gone. It had been steadily widening every day since I came, but this morning there was nothing. Maybe a big bird attacked, maybe he had a fight, I have no idea how cobwebs are destroyed but when I saw it, he was hanging on just 2 threads. By the time I finished my morning practice, he had the outline of his new web completed. In the next few hours, he continuously worked and created a new web, it is yet half the size of the old one but he instinctively knew what was enough. Then again, he positioned himself right in the center and waited in complete stillness. Within a few hours he caught his first butterfly and now he's eating it. First catch of the new web, I raise my tea cup for him.

Despite his disadvantage of a missing leg, this spider survived. He's actually catching more food than any other spiders around my room. He instinctively knows when it's time to expand, when it's time to repair and more importantly when it's time to wait in complete stillness. He doesn't get anxious if he'll ever catch a new butterfly again, and paces nervously. He stays still. More importantly, when his whole house hence his source of food  is destroyed, he didn't spend time mourning over his loss. Instead he started right from the beginning to build a web. Then again, patiently waited...

Situations can be quite unfavorable to our expectations. Often we have no idea what the future holds for us. Sometimes we lose everything. More than the actual situation, it is those emotions we attach to situations that blind us. If we can clear ourselves from the emotional drama and simply wait with complete stillness of the mind sooner or later we see what we need to do.
This is the nature...

10th August 2011, Kanchanaburi 

forest tradition

the view from the 3rd floor of the chanting hall

Within Buddhism, there are some different schools and traditions. The monastery I stayed in Thailand follows the Thai Forest tradition. Monks following this tradition spend a lot of alone time in nature, especially in the rain forests in the northern parts of Thailand. They believe that clear, big spaces (unlike cities) creates a clear mind too. Also observing the nature and living in complete harmony with it is important. Monks who follow this tradition are generally experts of insight meditation and they are believed to have some “supernatural” powers. I met a few who can see beyond what eyes can see, but I doubt if that should be called supernatural. Anyway...

I have no idea how I ended up in this monastery. Despite currently living in Ubud, I'm still very much a city girl. Nature is good to observe from the windows of an A/C car and organic food is healthy, that's pretty much my relationship with the nature. So coming here, people ask me if I like to swim in the water fall or take hikes in the jungle. I would feel trapped on one floor if shopping mall escalators are being serviced, and they are talking about hikes in jungle?

The first days were pretty hard. Constant rain, limited electricity, no hot water, walking to the chanting hall in darkness with a thousand creatures around is not my cup of tea. My teacher kept saying “open space, open mind”. Yet I felt very much trapped and scared. This didn't feel like an open and clear mind to me.

constant fog in the mountains

Then slowly, but very slowly things began to improve. I was no longer scared to death when I walk to the chanting hall at 4am. I was confident to take 45 minute walks in the forest (the distance I can go is less that a kilometer but sometimes slow is good) . During one of these walks, I saw a big snake catch and eat a lizard and I stood at a distance to watch it. I almost enjoyed the space that my teacher was talking about. I can't say that my mind was clear, however within that new space I was able to see my fears. Sometimes I felt too old to face them, other times I felt that if I wasn't meant to overcome them, I wouldn't be there...

I'll be back in the monastery in about two weeks. Maybe it would be time for me to try the forest walk under the rain. Maybe I'll understand the forest tradition monks, maybe I'll find the clarity.

At least I hope to get some of these supernatural powers. Courage shouldn't go unrewarded, should it?

life in a Buddhist monastery - part 3

Coming back to the forest monastery felt good. Despite the constant rain and the lack of sunshine I was happy to be back. From the smiles in their faces, I could tell that the monks were happy to see me too. 

the waterfall view from the guesthouse veranda

Life in the monastery starts with a 4am gong. Around 4:30, while it's still completely dark we gather in the main hall for 45 minutes of chanting followed by another 45 minutes of meditation. Around 6, some monks walk into the village barefoot to collect the almsfood. While the monks are in the village, the residents of the monastery are in the kitchen cooking. That part of Thailand is mostly populated by Burmese refugees and it's very poor. The villagers do not have enough food to regularly share with the monks so the monastery has a kitchen to prepare a wider variety of food.  Around 7:30, the monks come back with a lot of rice (and occasionally with some other food). Then gong rings once again and  everyone gathers in the kitchen. The residents of the monastery take a bowl of rice and offer a spoon to each monk first. It's a small offering ceremony that takes place every morning. Then the monks take their food get back to the main hall first to pray for the food and then eat. Whatever is left is shared by the residents. The food was always very delicious and had a lot of variety.

8:30 onwards, monks do whatever they need to do. Some work in building houses for each other, some go out to the forest to pick up fruits, some study Buddhist scripts. Some mornings, I would give CranioSacral sessions, other days I would take forest hikes or read. Around 11, another bell is rung. This is the time for the monks to take some snacks – nothing that requires preparation or cooking but some fruits, milk, crackers etc. This is their final meal until the next morning, as Buddhist monks do not consume food after mid-day. I am amazed how fit, strong and healthy the monks are on just a single meal.

Until the 5pm gong, the monks again do whatever they need to do. At 5:30, we gather in the main hall once more for for 45 minutes of chanting followed by 45 minutes of meditation. Afterwards, some monks stay in the main hall to talk, to study with more senior monks or occasionally to play games on the computer.

There are no strict rules or musts in a monastery. Nobody has to wake up at 4 or join group chantings. Everything is completely up to your free will and this works well. Within this freedom, everybody seems to take full responsibility, offer their best, therefore everything runs very smoothly. I was especially told that I do not need to wake up at 4am and join, yet I wanted to. Except for 2 very cold and rainy mornings, I was always there.

Within this emptiness, I felt quite satisfied. Very little is set and the rest is fully up to you to fill it or not. I thought my life in Bali was slow, however it took me a few days to get used to this new level of slowness. And once I started flowing with that pace, it felt good. Once in a while, it is good to surrender  the content and the pace of the day to a few gongs.

life in a Buddhist monastery - part 2

The temple ceremony in West Thailand was for a very senior and well-known monk, Luang Por Chamnian. It was a lot of time and effort to get there and back from the forest monastery, but at the end it was worth it. There were about 200 monks from all over Thailand and at least twice of that his followers. Among that crowd, I was the only foreigner. I observed that Thai people are quite curious why a foreigner would bother to come all the way for a ceremony, especially considering that I don't understand a single word of it. At the same time, they highly respect and appreciate the interest of a foreigner towards their customs, country and especially beliefs.

Luang Por Chamnian

At noon, I had the opportunity to spend a few minutes alone with Luang Por Chamnian, during which he blessed me and offered protective amulets. That blessing was the first time that I felt the strong presence and the radiating energy of a monk. He is nowhere near a usual monk by Buddhism standards anyway. He lives with 30-kilos of weight dangling around his chest and belly. This weight consists of small gifts, amulets, key chains so when he is walking around, he looks very colorful. I was told that it used to be 60 kilos, but he reduced it by half at the age of 65. He constantly keeps them on, and especially when he's sleeping those 30 kilos put a lot of pressure to his lungs and pointed edges of metal objects hurt his skin. All the pain aside, monks are not supposed to own anything, so I was puzzled. I later found out that it is his way of walking the talk. He teaches that when one practices pure Buddhism the space and the clarity of his/her mind will persist regardless of how much physical discomfort s/he may be experiencing. At his current age of 75, with 30 kilos around his belly Luang Por Chamnian is a strong man who radiates his positive energy and lives an exemplary life to those who support him.

During my 5 minutes with him, I was told I could ask anything. Yet I had no idea what one can ask to a monk. Do I ask about my future, do I ask for protection or just throw out some technical questions about Buddhism? Seeing me sitting there tongue-tied, he smiled and just blessed me in his own way. It did have an impact – I am definitely feeling more grounded and my meditations got much deeper since then. I am constantly wearing the amulet he gave me and feel its protective powers.

life in a Buddhist monastery - part 1

“So what exactly I'm supposed to do when I'm in the monastery?” I asked Lance for the third time. Like the previous two times, he smiled and said “Nothing, you're not supposed to do anything. Just go and relax, things will flow naturally”. That answer was far from satisfactory. I needed exact schedules, an extensive list of what's appropriate to do around monks, what to avoid, what to take with me, … but I also knew I wouldn't get anything more from him. I decided to try my best of “going with the flow”, as I didn't have any other options.

This was about a month ago in Bali, after Lance told me that everything was arranged for me to stay in one of the most beautiful monasteries in Thailand.

For the last few months in Bali, I was having some interesting Buddhist experiences. Having had those experiences already for over a decade, Lance suggested that cleaning kitchens in meditation centers was a waste of time for me, as I was already at a higher level. According to him, the best thing was to dive right into it, in the presence of the monks in a real monastery. So he contacted some senior monks and the whole trip was organized within a few weeks. I had very limited information about Buddhism.  For me, monks were isolated and strict people dressed in all shades of orange and brown. I started reading as much as I could gather from the internet, but quickly figured out this is one of those things that theoretical knowledge doesn't bring much preparation to the real thing.

The family of a monk volunteered to drive me to the monastery from Bangkok. They didn't want me to  struggle with buses and get lost. Considering that it was a 6-hour drive one-way, that was a very generous help. On the way, I bombarded them with questions and got some answers. When we arrived, I was a little surprised. I pictured, “beautiful” as colorful flowers, manicured gardens, cute cottages. Yet I saw a wild forest and some worn-down buildings and not much else. For a moment I panicked, seriously what was I supposed to do here for 5 days? Returning to Bangkok crossed my mind but trusting Lance's judgment, I decided to give it a try.

I went into the guesthouse to settle. Judging by the amount of dust and cobwebs gathered, it obviously had been empty for quite a while. We laid down 5 layers of blankets on the floor to be my bed. Then Phra Mo gave m a quick tour of the monastery. Phra Mo is a senior monk, who's actually been living in the US for the last 11 years. He was visiting Thailand for a few months. His presence  was just another synchronicity. What are the odds of going to a monastery in northwest Thailand, in a wild rainforest and meeting a monk who speaks English and is very willing to teach?


On the third day, I started giving CranioSacral sessions to monks! Women are not allowed to touch monks – it's a huge offense. Yet during a CranioSacral session I need to place my hands very gently on the person to get in tune, to listen to their tides. I've seen my teacher give sessions without touching so I know it's possible. I'm nowhere near that advanced, but seeing the monks' enthusiasm for healing sessions I wanted to give it a try. It turned out to be harder than I thought, still most of the sessions worked. At the end of the day, I explained to Phra Mo that I am used to feeling the tide by my hands so trying to “see” without a sense of touch  was quite tiring for me. As if stating the most obvious thing in the world Phra Mo said “If you can sense by touching, you can surely see it too. Just need to clear yourself and empty your mind a little more”. Then he offered to give me private meditation sessions in the evenings to increase my sensitivity and clarity. I was ecstatic and we started that evening. Some days it was long talks filled with information and short meditations, some other days it was a deep meditation... Every day I felt luckier and more thankful to the chain of events that brought me here.

the guesthouse, from outside

inside the guesthouse

The plan was to stay in this monastery for 5 days. Then I would attend a big temple ceremony in west Thailand to take photos followed by about 10 days in a famous meditation center near Chiang Mai. Yet within 5 days my first impressions of the monastery changed dramatically. I got used to walking in the dark, hiking alone in the jungle, eating only one meal a day and simply listening to myself. More importantly, the CranioSacral sessions and the private meditation sessions were going so well. I strongly felt that I needed to stay a little longer here. I asked the abbot permission to return and he warmly agreed.

be your own shiva

There are a thousand ways to describe the Hindu deity Shiva and his qualities. I like the simplest version where Shiva is the God of change, both in terms of destruction and death. When I first heard it it sounded weird; why would there be a god for destruction and who would worship him?


There's probably no change without destroying the old habit, form, thought, relationship, belief, method, … All that has a beginning must also have an end. The death of one thing creates the birth of another.


We all like happy beginnings, surprises. Hardly ever we take the endings well. We fail to realize that the more we hang on to the old, the less the chance to create something new, fresh and inspiring.

Every new year, we make big resolutions for changing things in our lives. We wish to lose weight, find the prince charming, become richer, and whatnot... We want all that to come without getting rid of the old. It doesn't happen...

A snake doesn't hang onto his skin, worrying whether a new skin will come, or if it would be as beautiful as the old one. The snake just helps this process of change by slithering on rough surfaces so that the skin will come off faster. The new skin always comes, and it's always stronger and more protective than the old one. Had the old skin stayed on, the snake wouldn't have space to grow...

Sometimes it's good to get rid of the old to create room for the new. Sometimes one needs to take bold step to kill the useless or the dysfunctional so that the new, exciting, valuable and useful has room to be in our lives. Once in a while, try being your own Shiva; take a bold decision, take ownership of your own life, bring the death to whatever is no longer needed, take it off and watch the beauty to come to life and shine with a light you've never seen before.

beginner at being a beginner

For a very long time, I earned a living by doing something that I've been doing for a long time. Through a lot of trainings and experience I naturally became good at it. Do you know that “auto pilot” mode, where one can smoothly handle a wide variety of situations without needing to think? That was the case for me most of the time. Even if I needed to think, that was often because I needed to calculate the options, not a need to come up with a really novice solution.

Then I decided to quit that all together to start something entirely new. That entirely new thing had nothing in common with what I've been doing all along. It was difficult in many ways, but mostly because I forgot what it feels like being a beginner at something that matters. Learning, trying to retrieve that new information, grasping the tweaks, finding the gray shades when all that I've learned was black and white... But maybe most importantly accepting that I am a beginner and by definition there is a long path of learning ahead of me. That not all learning is smooth, fun and has immediate positive results. Somethings depend purely on experience and accumulation of knowledge and without them, one can just be “average” to start with. That some patterns are very deeply etched and it takes more than a one-month intensive training to shift.


I'm learning to teach yoga. I've always known that how I practice yoga on the mat is a pure reflection of how I play in life... Now I am also discovering that how I play in life is a pure reflection of how I teach. I cannot teach beyond my limitations, so I constantly need to expand and to transcend all the while I am struggling to be a beginner. It's mostly exhausting. Yet in rare occasions that I can pull myself a little back and look at it, then it feels good. It's very empowering to be able let go of somethings and have new beginnings, however awkward they may be initially.

dubai lessons - part 2

Before I left Dubai in August 2009, I decided to store my items, thinking that I'd be back in a few months, to find another corporate job, rent a place and get back to “normal life”. The warehouse guys came to pack and told that my items would take 18 cubic meters of space. I barely had any furniture besides a sofa and a bed, so it meant that I had 18 cubic meters of stuff. Stuff of all sorts like useless kitchen gadgets, accessories, cables, notebooks, coin collections... and of course clothes, shoes and bags, heaps of them... I had closets full of t-shirts that I didn't even have time to wear even once. Shoes that still had the price tags on. I regularly had to buy extra shelves to be able to store shoes... That of course didn't change the drama of “Oh, I have nothing to wear to the office today”every morning.

I had a hole inside. I thought if I stuffed it with shoes and dresses, the hole would be mended and I would be complete. I kept buying, I spent with a vengeance, I thought it was my right to earn so much and to spend so much because it was my reward for putting up with the work life and nicely playing my role in it.

I kept shopping, I owned more stuff but it didn't help with the hole. I didn't feel complete. Quite the contrary, the discrepancy and the frustration felt bigger and bigger every day. In order not to notice the discrepancy, I shopped more. That's how I ended up with 18 cubic meters of stuff. Then for another year, I paid a really high rent to make sure that my stuff was well taken care of in an air-conditioned warehouse. Ironically, all the time that precious18 cubic meters was sitting in a warehouse, I was happily living in Bali with one bag full of clothes and books. 10 months passed that I didn't need a single thing other than what I already had with me. Slowly I started to realize that the need didn't come from the actual variety of t-shirts or the number of shoes that I had. It was a distortion of my perception.

It is difficult to turn the attention inwards, to notice and to admit an emotional hole. It is painful and the roots go way beyond a single shopping spree. So I had chosen the path of least resistance, to keep my attention outwards, and to buy stuff, assuming that they will make me a better person. Through yoga and one breath at a time, I started to realize that it all came from within, so it had to be completed also from within. To own and then to be addicted to that ownership wouldn't really solve anything.

I realized the true meaning of the quote “things you own end up owning you”. I had stuff sitting in a warehouse and costing me, as well as taking a lot of my mental energy how to best get rid of them.  It's idealized a lot in self-help books, however in reality letting go is not really easy. At one level, it gives freedom, but it also makes one feel really naked.


I still managed to offload the things I owned. The crescendo of it was the Dubai Flea Market two weeks ago, where I managed to sell all my clothes, shoes, CDs, gadgets etc. All items of addiction were gone within a frame of few hours. I didn't make a lot of money, but the feeling of liberation and buoyancy at the end was worth it all. The day after the flee market, I packed the remaining bare minimum, to be shipped. The new volume? 157 kilograms and only 0.7 cubic meters!


The lesson? It's hard to pinpoint one single thing. There was a time that I owned a lot but didn't feel complete. I'm still far from feeling totally complete – whatever that may mean. At least I realized that the feeling of being whole and centered has nothing to do with the amount of stuff I gather around me. Quite the opposite, the more I can let go; be it obsessions, shoes, dysfunctional patterns or money the more I feel secure, strong and “whole”. This feeling of security and strength is far less tangible than a retirement fund or a steady income, but it comes from being able to trust myself and only myself.

dubai lessons - part 1

I'm a single child and spent a lot of alone-time reading books when I was growing up. Socializing with flesh & bone humans was the least of my needs. In our tiny and very independent household, it was highly appreciated to be self-sufficient and asking help was something only needy people did. So I grew up with some defects in my sharing,helping, receiving cells.

During the Vipassana, there were evening talks about killing ego, genuinely being able to ask for help as well as being able to offer help for the sake of the other person, without boosting your ego. It touched a really deep place. It helped me realize how delicate and inter-connected our behavior patterns are; My inability to receive help fed my illusion of self-sufficiency (It is easier to believe that I am so capable that I don't need help, instead of saying “I don't know how to ask for it”). Whereas in reality, I was probably constantly searching for someone to lean on. Again, because I thought it was only the weak or needy people who needed assistance, my offers of help didn't come from a genuinely altruistic place. I probably liked helping people because it made me feel superior/better/more able in one way or the other. (Ouch, even writing this twists my guts and makes me feel horrible)

Last 5 months, I have been at my neediest. It was like a boot-camp for my ego. I didn't have money, a home, car and the brains to deal with the variety of difficult situations that I've been into. So I constantly needed to ask for advice, money, food, a bed and whatnot. It was like the life of a Buddhist monk in a very capitalist city that has no monks. (Oh well, I still could keep my hair and wearing nothing but an orange robe would be an immediate criminal offense in Dubai.)

Having very little and asking for help was ok in Bali but in Dubai where everyone is rich, able and powerful (or under the illusion of being rich, able or powerful), it felt like hell.

It was so much and too intense for me. There were days I simply felt tired because I needed to ask so many things from different people. The most difficult was when I needed anything from my parents...

It's way too early and too pretentious to say that I've learned my lesson, passed my exam and ready for the next grade. The roots are too deep for me to reach within 5 months only. Yet, looking back, I at least start to realize that my ego had nothing but rough edges and Dubai was my coarse sandpaper.

dragging my feet

I've been contemplating on this blog entry for weeks and weeks. So much has happened that's worth writing. Then again, so much has happened that drained my energy and writing was the last thing I could possibly do...

Back in June, when I applied for a tourist visa to Dubai, the Immigration said that according to their database, I already appear in the country with a valid residence permit, so they cannot issue me a tourist visa! From that point onwards, everything about Dubai went extremely slow or terribly wrong or both. All the corporate positions I applied froze for no reason, it was summer so I never had enough yoga students, I got the stupidest traffic fines, et cetera et cetera... About two months into my Dubai adventure, I seriously started thinking if all these are signs that Dubai is no longer the place for me? There was a major gap in my resistance-free, easy flowing life in Asia and all the hassle and hardship that I was facing in Dubai. I chose to interpret all that as a learning towards persistence because I've always been the one to give up at the first sign of difficulty. I thought that I spent two months planting the seeds for a new life and I should not leave before seeing the blossoms. Oh, how things went so downhill after that...

Within the next few weeks I got seriously sick due to stress, had a mistreatment that increased my pain, had a big car accident, lost my car, lost a lot of money and got so broke that I could only afford 4 bus tickets and one meal every day. Then another corporate job opening popped up; I thought it could be the perfect opportunity for me to fix my finances. Deep down, I could not bear the idea that I needed to get back to corporate life but thought I had no other option. I felt powerless. 3 days before I needed to fly to UK for my final job interview, my visa application got rejected for a very stupid reason.

It finally flashed; I was no longer meant to be in the Middle East. The interpretation of everything that happened as a a test of persistence didn't really work. It took me many months, a lot of money and a lot of health to figure that out. I was fast becoming the person that people spoke in only checklists. Instead of simply asking how I was when they saw me, people had to go through a list to make sure that I am ok, “how are you today, any injuries from the accident, are you still taking your antibiotics, did you have any students in your class today?” I used to feel fantastic all the time and this radiated to the people around me. At some point in Dubai, I turned into this fragile and unlucky being who always had to be checked and taken care of. I didn't like it a bit...

There are no absolutes, rights or wrongs in life decisions. Even things that seem like a momentary lapse of reason, lacking common sense or plain stupid happen for a reason, don't they? What makes them precious is probably our interpretations of it. It's really easy to blame things on fate, live the life of a drama queen feeding on misery and continuing to live in the past. There's also the option to learn your lesson and move on. Dubai was my lesson on many things but mostly humbleness and the importance of friends.

bitten

I've been badly bitten by the “Bali bug” about 13 months ago and I can't seem to stop itching. Even 3 weeks before leaving Bali, I was showing withdrawal symptoms, such as insomnia, irritability and random bursts of tears. The irony of it was that clinging to something and missing it all the while still experiencing it was completely against everything I liked about Bali and my life there.

The withdrawal symptoms were temporarily relieved when I was in Bangkok and then in Istanbul, but they came back even stronger as I spent more time in Dubai. It was a lot of stress, hardship and constant frustration. Of course none of these symptoms of helped with relieving the itch of the bite. Quite the contrary, things continued to get worse. It took me 5 long months to realize that trying to put up with unhappiness would not actually help with anything. So I took the plunge and decided to live in Bali. It was the biggest and the boldest decision in my life, yet at some level it was so easy. The itch stopped as soon as I make that decision, so at some level it feels right. Yet at most other levels, things do not feel any more stable than a steep, slippery pathway covered with ice. All I know is that it's my decision, hence it cannot be wrong for me.

We'll see, we'll see...

t-junction

Starting with my Reiki initiation years back, I tried to pay attention to the order of things around me. I realized that if I was starting something good or wholesome, somehow the things ran smoother, the doors opened easier. On the contrary, if what I'm doing wasn't eventually good for myself of for the others hurdles, delays and hindrances would start to pop up.

I would know that simple, tried and tested actions are good for me or not. It's common sense to know that lying, back-stabbing and gossiping will eventually hurt me or someone else. But how about starting something entirely new? There was a time that I was completely exhausted by my corporate work and decided to start up my own consulting company. In a country where bureaucracy is famously complicated, things ran thunder speed and I received so much help from people around me. Even before I had time to worry whether I was doing the right thing, the company was established and clients were coming in. It was impossible to predict how well I would do before I started, but the signs gave me the encouragement that I was doing something right.

Since I came to Dubai about 6 weeks ago, things have been going very slow. Things get lost, key people leave on 3-week vacations, papers don't get signed, you name it. At some point I was drained and wanted to feel bad and sorry for myself. I wanted to whine and bitch and point fingers. I couldn't... Because it was almost funny how things completely outside of my control were going wrong as much as they could. 

Then I started thinking; for the last few months I was seeking signs where I should be. Dubai felt right in some ways and horribly wrong in others. The signs were not really clear before I landed here. But recently they were as loud as a Metallica concert and I was still not getting it. I kept pushing and pushing with not much luck. So was I really not meant to be here, was there another place and another plan for me? I felt relieved to reach this understanding and shared it with a few friends. They had a totally different perspective. They thought they were the challenges  sprinkled along the way to demonstrate my persistence to stay here and to teach yoga. They added that far from being some divine signs, the delays I was experiencing were related to the usual slowness of Dubai summers. They said that if  I quit now and leave Dubai, I would have never really given myself the full chance, that I would have given up just before the crack of dawn.

When it comes to viewpoints, there is no absolute right or wrong. There's only what's right for me. I don't know what's right for me so it's confusing. I've been a quitter at the first sign of resistance for most of my life, so really what I'm going through can be a “test” of how much patience and perseverance I've accumulated. Or it can be a reminder that I need to be kinder to myself, not push for things that feel abrasive and  wrong for me.

Deep down, I still don't know where I want to be now and what I want to do, so I keep seeking external signs. I had the slightest hope that putting all that down in writing would help me organize my thoughts and lead somewhere. It didn't really work this time.

corporate "security"

If you ever worked in an international corporation, or known anyone who worked/works there, you would know that it comes with a shiny bunch of perks other than salary. Depending on the location and the industry, the benefits can be anything like shuttle buses, valet car parking, all-day free drinks, paying full tuition fees of your kids, dry cleaner on the premises and 24 hour emergency hot line. Plus you get discounts on many things because your corporation has deals with other corporations. The bigger the corporation gets, the more the benefits are. It takes care of you in so many ways, almost like family. Yet again, the  bigger the corporation gets, the more it resembles an over-protective mother. It handles everything for you but once you call quits to your cubicle, you are like a fish out of the water. You need to pay the tuition for your own kids, make your own travel arrangements, buy your own mobile, take your car to the service by yourself, etc etc... It can become quite overwhelming. For years you lean your back against a solid wall and now you need to stand up on your own two feet.

I've read quite a few theories about this. Some say that corporations offer these perks to attract the best talent in the market. I'm not sure if really talented people are attracted by dry cleaning services.

Some say these are benefits to ensure that you dedicate all your time and energy on your work. When your attention is not interrupted by when you need to change your winter tires, you can be be more productive in your work. Maybe; then again that makes me wonder how resourceful you can be when all you think and do is predefined by a single-page job description.

Some say that by taking care of all your needs, the corporations actually take away your self-reliance. Spending 12 hours in an office for your office work and have other people take care of your “actual” life can eventually be quite addictive. Once your are used to the illusionary ease of having things done for you, it's difficult to get your hands dirty and do your own things.

At some point, you may start hating your job or your boss. Yet you start working even harder and look more dedicated. You don't know what else you can do if someone notices that you dislike your boss and you're fired. As the hate grows, the mask thickens to cover it up. This is a deep dissonance, which creates an even deeper frustration.

It feels easier to get used to a negative environment as compared to stepping out and taking responsibility for your own life – relying on your own capabilities. At the end of the day, when you look around which one do you see more? Corporate slaves with grayish faces, complaining all the time about their work yet boasting about their 5-star tropics holiday last summer, or content people who are firmly on their own feet, not dependent on some other source to take care of them for all their neediness? Come to think of it, who actually needs valet-parking, unlimited free coke, discounts at car rental and 12 different lunch menus?