SERENITY

The last few months (since April actually) have been hectic in terms of house and mood changes, mainly due to the job search, but I want this period to touch to an end before I write about it in detail.

Today I took a long walk by the sea, spending one hour sitting in the sun on some deserted rocks and reading from the Book of Psalms. Around me gathered some tiny birds making funny noises. I had one of my  happiness moments, filled with peace and the sensation that everything is perfect the way it is: the caressing warmth and light of the sun, the blue of the sea and the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks, the cute birds and the words in the book. 

During the last few weeks I was asked in a couple of job interviews what motivates me, what makes me wake up in the morning, and both times I answered it is the light of sun, the fact of being alive, a flower, the smile of a child, anything, really. And today there was a real epiphany, we are so affected by all the continuous CHANGES we go through, and try to cling to people, situations and objects, when the one thing that doesn't change is whatever is called CREATION: nature, people, animals. I would add art to it, art is to me the highest expression of the human aspiration to overcome its mortal condition. Every little beautiful detail we can observe and watch with love and care gives us a feeling of fulfillment, if only we were open and softhearted enough. Celebrate LIFE!

WINDS OF CHANGE, THERE'S NO HOME BUT TRAVELING

Tel Aviv  - Yafo

My life simply doesn't want to stand still since I came back from Canada, almost three years ago. It twists and turns like a fish on dry sand, trying to reach back to the water. 

When I was working on cruiseships a  key phrase during emergency drills was "reach your final destination". On the ship it was easy, it meant a little square from where we were supposed to get on life boats or rafts.  But in life on solid ground it looks like my real final destination doesn't want to be found. I finished much less than gloriously my cultural promotion mission in Portugal, on the ground of dramatic political and administrative changes in my motherland. I can't call it homeland as I don't have a home for now, or, again, since I left Canada. Which is also arguable as my rent appartment felt like home, not the country per se. 

After spending Christmas in Bucharest with my beloved mother, sister and brother, plus some extended family members, I went to Israel to end up a conversation. It started in the Madrid subway with an Israeli song author, video-editor and aspiring writer, about a year before and we kept in touch only via Facebook, getting acquainted through our photographs, phrases, likes and dislikes. I decided to take up his invitation to visit a contrasting and controversial country. It was not meant to be a pilgrimage, but I didn't discard the idea of making it part of the whole experience. I was richly rewarded for this decision. I received so much love and positive energy during this trip that I can hardly describe how much it enlightened my mind and my soul.

I don't know if this is the Holy Land...all land is holy, as long as people don't spoil it with their changes. I felt amazingly in the desert, on the shore of the Kinneret Lake (Sea of Galilee) or in the Ein Gedi Park.

Lake Kinneret

Judean desert

And I met amazing people, that treated me with such effortless genuine kindness that I am still in awe, regardless of being Israeli or Palestinian,  religious or not, Christian, Jewish or Muslim . This trip above all restored my trust in the human race. Especially that I was in conflictive area, and I expected the inhabitants to be more nervous and impatient. It was a real life lesson, about the beauty of nature and the human kind. It's hard to explain, but I felt pure unconditional love flowing towards me.So in these terms I would advise anyone to go there, regardless also of their nationality or faith. 

I deeply appreciated the cosmopolitan vibe of Tel Aviv, its colourful market, white beaches and modern looking leisure port. Here and there one can see interesting Bauhaus buildings and wander on Rotschild Boulevard or hang out in lively neighbourhoods like Neve Tzedek, Sheinkin street or Florentin. I was very  lucky to have such good hosts there. 

And so was I in Bethlehem, on the Palestinian side of the story, spending time with a Christian family and taking a day trip around with a Muslim taxi driver and tour guide, a former history and geography teacher. I saw bedouins on donkeys and horses, a desert monastery, the Shepherds' Field, Solomon's Pools and the ruins of a Herode's palace in a record time, with a great guide, who spoke decent English and knew plenty of stories. The Nativity church is simply beautiful but really rundown, and most visitors were paying less attention to its beauty and more to the basement stone were Jesus was supposed to be born. I was shocked to see the caretaker washing the Byzantine mosaics with a dirty mop. But I guess this is as much as they have. Life is far from being easy there, but smiles are for free. 

Then there is Jerusalem, with its confusing old city, made of the Muslim, Christian, Jewish and Armenian Quarter. A true 1001 nights experience, especially on the market (souk) streets, some shops look like Ali Baba caves and you can sample many delights of the Middle Eastern exotic and flavourful world. I had a hard time getting the Christian vibe of the place, except for the hundreds of pilgrims that insisted in living in their own pious bubble. The churches were assaulted by hordes of passionate Christians, clicking desperately on their phones and cameras button, like there was no tomorrow. The next best thing to do was to touch whatever stone or image was supposed to be the holiest of the place: where Jesus died, wept, stepped, where Mary was born, were Mary died, etc., like on a freaking film set. No corner to recollect and reconnect, which for me gives sense to a pilgrimage. Most cathedrals show signs of their impressive age, old grey smoky walls with hardly any signs of painting, old icons and beautiful ancient lamps. My biggest frustration was not seeing the so called Dome of the Rock big mosque, an ancient piece of pure architectural beauty. On Friday and Saturday it is closed to non-Muslims.

The newer Israelian side also hosts a bustling market, Mahane Yehuda, full of goodies of all kinds and a central fun zone, with pedestrian streets and nice hang out coffee shops and bars. I had no time for museums, but for a first visit I think I had plenty on my plate. 

To me though the best experiences were the moments I spent out of the cities: Kinneret Lake, Judean desert (old Mar Saba monastery), the Ein Gedi oasis and national park, the Dead Sea shore, the Massada ruins. Nature is a gift of God to the humans troubled soul and restless mind.

Me daily - March 22, 2005

1422 days ago

A friend told me I'm becoming mystical lately. Maybe...it's true that every day I think about God and the meaning of life. My wandering around in nature in the Caribbean,enjoying its beauties, paying attention to details (a centipede, a fish, a flower, a miniatural lizzard) generated a feeling of belonging and a sense of eternity. The ever existing perfection of the world, caught in a moment. In the city I can only go to the church, eventually smile at a passing seagull or a playful squirrel. My feelings adapted, became more conscious, I'm not melting in the landscape anymore.

And I have more worries every day, than I used to have during the last three years. But now I learned serenity, I know everything passes like clouds in the sky. I just want to dedicate my life to something meaningful, to get involved at work. And I want to remember, always, the moments when me and the landscape were one, and none would talk to me, but my own thoughts.

Something I like - March 18, 05

1426 days ago

The Holy Now

There were no formerly heroic times, and there was no formerly pure generation. There is no one here but us chickens, and so it has always been: a people busy and powerful, knowledgeable, ambivalent, important, fearful and self-aware; a people who scheme, promote, deceive and conquer; who pray for their loved ones, and long to flee misery and skip death. It is a weakening and discoloring idea that rustic people knew God personally once upon a time -- or even knew selflessness or courage or literature -- but that it is too late for us. In fact, the absolute is available to everyone in every age. There never was a more holy age than ours, and never a less.

There is no less holiness at this time -- as you are reading this -- than there was the day the Red Sea parted, or that day in the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the fifth day of the month, as Ezekiel was a captive by the river Chebar, when the heavens opened and he saw visions of God. There is no whit less enlightenment under the tree by your street than there was under the Buddha's bo tree. There is no whit less might in heaven or on earth than there was the day Jesus said "Maid, arise" to the centurion's daughter, or the day Peter walked on water, or the night Mohammed flew to heaven on a horse. In any instant the sacred may wipe you with its finger. In any instant the bush may flare, your feet may rise, or you may see a bunch of souls in a tree. In any instant you may avail yourself of the power to love your enemies; to accept failure, slander, or the grief of loss; or to endure torture.

Purity's time is always now. Purity is no social phenomenon, a cultural thing whose time we have missed, whose generations are dead, so we can only buy Shaker furniture. "Each and every day the Divine Voice issues from Sinai," says the Talmud. Of eternal fulfillment, Tillich said, "If it is not seen in the present, it cannot be seen at all."

--Annie Dillard, For the Time Being

"Dimension Dali " and the Divine dimension - March 17, 05

1427 days ago

As I am working as a volunteer at the International Festival of Films about Art, I saw a few films last week-end and I'll continue this Saturday.

The documentary I saw about Dali and the different sciences that influenced his creative process opened my mind towards the ideas behind his paintings. I always loved words and images more than numbers, mathematics and physics were rather boring and insipid for me in highschool. Numbers are so precise, words have so many senses. Geometry was the only one that awakened a vague interest in me.

But many times I would stop and stare at the perfection of the nuances and shape of a flower, wondering how was this possible, how can so much beauty and delicacy exist in such a simple thing?

Salvador Dali was a friend of Romanian prince and mathematician Matila Ghyka (that's really funny for a Romanian name), who came up in 1932 with the Golden Number - Golden Proportion theory. According to him all symmetry and harmony of shape are tributary to this report: 1,618. Pineapple fruit, flowers, shells, leaves, even human body are illustrating this theory. Pyramids, the Parthenon in Athens, Renaissance paintings are other proofs.

So Dali used this theory. But next to the mathematics, he gathered knowledge in nuclear and molecular physics, quantum mechanics, the Big Bang theory, DNA (ADN in Latin languages) and tried to show it all through his work. Like the famous Soft Watch which represents in fact the relativity of time. He knew that our senses and our intelligence are not enough to perceive and explain the Universe.

But what struck me in that film was the mention of the HYPER CUBE, a four-dimensional geometrical figure, to suggest the other dimension, the one we cannot perceive. Christ is to humanity what a hyper cube is to the cube. "Dali understood that Christ was the interface between two domains and was due to ascend to another one we cannot comprehend". Isn't it beautiful? To Dali all symmetry around us, all harmony and visual beauty were clear proofs of God's existence. Even DNA (ADN) code's structure. God as the supreme arhitect and mathematician.

To me, the need of creating and admiring art has no other explanation. Art recreates reality, in a supra-reality, the emotional dimension of it. It satisfies our longing for the outter world, the one we just feel, we know it is there. Because God is beyond the visible and the comprehensible, unlike anything we can perceive or explain. But He talks to us through the beauty of the world or the one we are able to create. A bright red apple, a perfumed pineapple, a luminous sunflower, clear water with colourful fish swimming in it...the little miracles we see every day.

Insomnia, Immigration, Identity, Divinity - March 8 - 9, 05

1436 days ago

I stare at the screen at 1.45 am, my eyes itchy and burning, my legs numb and my mind doesn't get it, why am I doing it to myself? Yes, I know, you'll say I have nothing better to do, only if there was a male version of the human race in the bed next to me (too small for 2 anyway). I have my books though, my diary, my CD's, but I'm so dependent on this fantastic dangerous toy. And my evening working schedule forbids me dating out of Friday and Saturday.

Anyway, just wanted to talk about this idea looping through my mind, my super smart friend Cristina (now in the States) just brought it up on her blog. Who are we, the immigrants - these lost, wandering souls. Her theory is that we're nothing anymore, maybe some kind of hybrids. Well, I felt the same, like an amphybia, that needs both earth and water for living, double identity, not really home in Romania, never really home in Canada. But, hey!, this is because the tight clothes of one country/one language don't fit anymore! It's ambiguous multi-identity, world citizenship, the ability of seeing things with fish and cat eyes at the same time. The ability to watch things from a distance, maybe that's why is scary? We can look at it ALL and criticize it, because we're always the "other", but we're not part of it anymore. Cu fundul in doua luntri - sitting on two chairs at the same time.

We, intellectuals, need definitions, theories, pinning our stomach buterflies, giving them latin names. We need to constantly analyse our thoughts and feelings and GIVE THEM NAMES. DEFINE. Identity, belonging, etc. We are prisoners of concepts and words (A Word's Child - Iris Murdoch). Our sight always blinded by aestethics. I know I'm doomed to it.

I live in a world of immigrants, I don't feel so brave among these people that came here with nothing, sometimes no education, no language knowledge. I'm so adaptable, compared to them. We have existential thoughts, otherwise our life is fine, too fine, we want to struggle, to face the immigrant problem, but we're so legal, so integrated, our soul refuses it, as it refused Romania before. "Jocul ideilor e jocul ielelor" "The dance of ideas is the fairies dance" It hypnotizes you and takes away your strength. Once you saw it you're its prisoner.

The way out? GOD, He can't be explained, defined, limited by words and concepts. We try, so hard, but we always use known notions and words to define the unknown, to get him down at our eye level.

Same about our own existence, our own meaning. Why asking? Just let it be. I have language obstacles with the people here, but, c'mon, don't tell me back in Europe we don't have plenty of ignorant people that don't know who's Don Quijote (I was in shock when a Front Desk colleague at the hotel ignored the character).

Like Voltaire said "Tout est pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes possibles" - Everything is for the better in the best possible world.

2.06AM - I am turning the beast off!