No more chestnuts

No more chestnuts.
No more such friends.
I have plenty of friends, I'm full of friends. Exhaustively full.
Next time I won't have sex with someone I clearly don't see as a friend. No, thank you.
Generally and also given my recent experience, men work like this:

Approach, take chances, possibly score. Mission accomplished. Go for next one. 

It's as if they're driven by the animal need to plant their seed in as many partners as possible. A need to survive.
Screw what M. said about the men's crucial search for their mother. I tell you what works.
Men plant their seed and woman become mothers. That's all.
Obviously I'm too affected by culture to want a man for other things than that. 

But I have decided on one thing. Before I sleep with the next one, I'm gonna tell him that we are not just friends and we'll never be just friends. In fact, I never saw him as a friend and why should I do it after we have sex. 

And if he walks away then good. Perfect, actually. Make space for the next try. Don't waste my time.
And no matter how immature I may be or how motherly I behave, how much I care and give and take and ruin, the process is what matters. I can say, I have been trying all along. I am true and I have feelings.
So no more bloody chestnuts. No more of these weird friends who either want something from you or you want something from them and you cannot just enjoy life with.

Death and our rippling

Two Sundays ago in Sunday Assembly the topic was death.
In the beginning, I was surprised that in a social gathering which celebrates life we would talk about death.
When I was there, though, the connection between life and death became much clearer.
Death is your kind pal, standing next to you all the time, asking you this question:
"Are you doing what you want to do in your life?"
or maybe even "Are you enjoying this?",
with the background thought that this is not going to last for ever.
So, he (why not she, actually?) is helping you to make the best of your life.

One of my favourite bands has summarised this in two lines:
"As soon as you're born you start dying
So you might as well have a good time. " (Cake,  from "Sheep go to heaven, goats go to hell")

The other thought that helped me stare death in the face with less fear was the idea of rippling. Ru Callender, creator of Green Funerals in Devon and Cornwall, said that our legacy consists of our acts and our interaction with other people. Also, even after we die, our legacy will be rippling over the people we had interacted with. Meaning, it would still be affecting people and we would continue to exist as influence, just as a wave continues to exist for as far as it travels. If the sea is big, the wave continues rippling further and further and for a long time.

The thought of rippling helped me cope with the certainty of my parents death in the future, which is one of my greatest fears. I have seen my father change and become more like my grandpa (his father) after the latter one died. So, my grandpa is rippling over my father. He is also rippling over me, when I cite him "Άφρικα εγεννήκαμε" (meaning We have become Africa and referring to the south wind on Crete and to the moving of tectonic plates that bring Crete closer to Africa). In this sense, when my parents die, I will most probably keep their words, their actions, their influence and I will still be interacting with my memories of them. These memories will guide my actions and in this way my parents will be rippling over me. The more I miss them, the more I can make them ripple over me. Now, that's a reassuring thought. Really. I told Ru how thankful I was to him for planting this thought in my mind and he thanked me for sharing.

In my mind I also connected the idea of rippling with the "Yellow - Rippling Arm Exercise" in Margaret Morris Movement. Now the rippling of the hands and arms in this exercise have a new meaning for me; I am thinking of Barbara, of Wiltrud, of Margaret Morris herself, that are rippling on me, no matter alive or dead, shaping not only my dance movement but most importantly my psyche.

"They can't take that away from me" on a Monday morning

Ξύπνησα μέσα στη Δευτέρα από τον συγκάτοικό μου να ρωτάει αν θέλω πρωινό.
Περίμενε, ναι, θέλω, τι έγινε, ξύπνησα, όνειρο ήταν;
Σηκώνομαι και αποφασίζω πως ήταν όνειρο το Σαββατοκύριακο και ως όνειρο θα το αντιμετωπίσω.
Στο πρωινό μιλήσαμε για τους μουσουλμάνους και για το πόσο γρήγορα αναπαράγονται.
Συμφωνήσαμε ότι σε κάποια χρόνια θα αποτελούν την πλειονότητα.
Και μετά γενίκευσε ο συγκάτοικος σε κάτι ρατσιστικό και τον παρακάλεσα να μην γίνει ρατσιστής.
Συμφωνούμε στις παρατηρήσεις αλλά όχι στα συμπεράσματα.
I still believe in humans, του είπα.
Και συμπλήρωσα τραγουδιστά "No, they can't take that away from me".

Αφού έφυγε έμεινα μόνη με τα φαντάσματα του Σαββατοκύριακου συνειδητοποίησα ότι το Σαββατοκύριακο ως όνειρο δεν μπορεί να μου το πάρει κανείς. Δικό μου όνειρο και τέλειο.

Η Κυριακή ήταν μια υπέροχη μέρα, από τις πιο χαρούμενες της ζωής μου, να το σημειώσω, Κυριακή 25 Σεπτεμβρίου 2016. Και τρελή να με πουν σαν τις πρωταγωνίστριες της ταινίας La pazza gioia, το όνειρο δεν μπορούν να μου το πάρουν. Και ποιός ξέρει, μπορεί να το ξαναζήσω.

Oh God it's already September

I haven't written in the blog in a while. The reason is the most exciting things that keep happening and me not having the time to reflect. But let's take things from where I left them.

In July I was "measuring like a daemon" as my boss said. I was kind of proud of this. But it also got me exhausted and hurt. I was stressing a lot and putting all this stress and effort on my poor knees when going to work in the morning. So I ended up hurting my knees quite a lot. I was too harsh on them. Ann told me to rest, take baths, leave the bike for the week before summer school. And as a good kid I listened to my teacher. Thanks to taking care of them, my knees went through the "White Colour" exam unharmed. And I managed to get "Highly Commended" grade, which I must say, I am quite proud of. :)

Then summer school came. So stressful. Training for basic teachers diploma. Anatomy in French and English mixed. "Le grand dorsal ouai ouai", I was sometimes too frustrated to ask for a translation. But then Amanda was rephrasing and wouldn't even realise how much that would help me. The last day, when she had almost given up mentally, I made up by asking and rephrasing in English. I am so happy that I met Amanda and that we took the teacher training course together. It would have been unbearable without her. All the rest of the training went well. Most importantly, I learned that when I am relaxed and believe in myself I can perform and create amazing things. I learned that in the assessment with Janet. I am grateful to all my teachers for their support and understanding. So when I start a class I will keep calm and strong and I am sure that many beautiful things will happen naturally.

I welcomed August in England but very soon flew over to Greece for the most efficient vacation ever. The percentage of spending time with family versus friends was ideal. I saw everybody who is important to me. I did MMM in the sunset on the beach, I greeted the sun in the morning and the stars in the night. I counted countless falling stars, but made no wishes. I have enjoyed the freedom of appreciating nature and not projecting myself to it. I bathed naked in the southern seas of Crete, played with the waves and laughed extensively. I even drunk salted water unwillingly, which I think it made me strong in the long term [tongue out smiley]. The evening cantata was a pure highlight, strolling down the beach singing an amazing variety of hits, from Cretan to Ionian and old Rembetiko songs and the sea tickling our feet.

My 30th birthday began on that beach, continued at home with my parents and a small heart-shaped chocolate cake. In the same evening, I went to my favourite bar in my home town, with two true friends, had my favourite cocktail. And then we ate at Goody's like 12-year-olds. Only special occasions deserve Goody's meals! Then in the weekend there was the big party with relatives, cousins and friends in my village. The food was so good and I had so much of it. I had fasolakia every day for the last 4 days on Crete. And I was never tired of them. I was tanking olive oil and taste of home to last for the whole winter in London.

Then as always I was deeply hurt to leave Crete but had a good feeling of going to Athens. I said what I wanted to say, did what I wanted to do. I am crystal clear to myself and satisfied with this. The ball is on the other side of the terrain. I was glad to see my "good news" friends along with Bill. The warm evening in Athens broke my heart, I couldn't help not dreaming of a life in Athens with further warm evenings and cool drinks. And air condition. And bedsheets. And love.

I left Athens sad but relieved and with a sense of duty for my work. The conference in London started the same day, but I was still struggling to return back to work mentally. And by the time the conference finished, work was already overwhelming. New ideas and a lot of encouragement form my boss. He is the best boss. Now we "just" need to get a new project funded so that I can realise my research ideas. And the research career will take off.

Alright, this update is a good enough approximation of how I felt about the most efficient vacation ever. It had everything I needed. And gave me strength and hope. All the very best.

(Later I found the song that summarises this summer's feeling in Elytis's poetry)

Ωδή στο αγόρι με τα μάτια τα μελιά

Ω κούρε που κοίτεσαι στο τραγανό ντιβάνι της καρδιάς μου
Πέτα το βλέμμα σου στην άβυσσο
Και πάρε με σε ταξίδι γλυκό
Να ξεχάσω τι αγαπώ και τι μισώ
Να μάθω να απολαμβάνω το λεπτό, την ώρα.

Ω κούρε όμορφε με το μεταξένιο δέρμα
την πληγές μου γιάτρεψε με το απαλό σου άγγιγμα
Στην πόλη αυτή που μ' έγδαρε και με δηλητηρίασε
τα γλυκά σου χείλη χάρισέ μου ξανά
Να μάθω να αφήνομαι απλά, βαθιά.

Ω κούρε με το καθάριο βλέμμα
θωρώ ευθεία στην ψυχή σου
και γίνομαι ξανά παιδί.

A poppy in my hands

The poppy in Anns garden filled my palms today. So big, so gorgeous.
Except the dazzling red, the colour that striked me was the dark matt purple of the seeds inside.
And the glowing black drawn petals inside the actual petals.
Such outstanding beauty!

Ann said we can now do the Smooth Step and think of the poppy.
I felt my hands move like opening petals and my legs grounded in the earth like the stable but also flexible poppy stalk.
So inspiring!

I so hope I can inspire people like Ann and the poppy did for me today.
Such greatness and gratefullness.

Wear sunscreen in London

Most people in London have forgotten how to have fun.
They are used to buying things, buying food, buying clothes, buying fun, buying drugs.
Drugs is an effortless way to have fun.

Why should that be cool?
I never considered laziness cool or sexy.
Why can't people just let loose and trust the others?
Why can't they open and let go of their fears?
So feared and miserable, yeah, continue doing drugs.

So, just not to end this post with a negative note, and to give an alternative approach to what I see in London:

Wear sunscreen!!

Thin border line

Listening to my favorite radio station playing this song:

 I came to some insights.

It's this thin and fusy border between braveness and masochism that keeps confusing me.
"Strong like me!" would Clayton say about me.
I would say yeah, yest strong like me and kind of careless like me.
Strong, I can take it. So let's hit and be hit.
And just a bit of sufferring is good, makes me feel alive.
Else, life is too boring.

In any case, the underlying principle (apart from being bored) is the least possible restriction of my freedom to express myself and live my life as I want. (oh, so much I, me, my and myself in one sentence..)
At the same time it is difficult to combine it with my need for warthm and cosyness.
I miss my friends. They would be a big hug and a shoulder to fall asleep on.
Then no unnecessary bonding would happen. Or maybe not.
But I cannot test it anyway, so no point in thinking about it.

My brother told me recently that a good practice is, when you talk to others, to try to forget what you want from them. I tried it yesterday and it was so liberating. But it is more difficult with the ones you want more of. I will keep trying though, cause it is most probably liberating for the other person, too. You would not impose any type of underlying pressure. And freedom is precious.

but you left a trace in my heart

Marburg.
Packing is sad. Wherever you are going. Packing is sad.
It forces you to think what to take and what to leave.
To leave behind, to give to people, to throw it in the rubbish bin.
One can take it positively, that they get rid of a lot of shit they have been accumulating through the years.
I find it hard to sort out. This might be useful sometime, and this, and this. Oh no, I can't get rid of this one. By no means.
Uh.
In the last drawer in my office I had, besides dry danish bread and two drops of virgin olive oil, all the Lingulelen songs. My eye fell on one line of our greatest hit "Kill all phoneticians":
"A trace can't keep want and to apart,
but you left a trace in my heart"
You left a trace in my heart Marburg.
And especially Lingulelen.
But I cannot hold back to sweet memories if they are hurting now.
Let's just pack them in and when I can sort them out again in London, I can write another melancholic post about how I am not going to re-live those glorious moments again.

Marburg, February 2016

Περί (ιδανικού) θανάτου

Σήμερα τον ένιωσα για πρώτη φορά.
Τον φόβο, τον τρόμο του θανάτου.
Συνέβη όταν διάβαζα για τον εγκέφαλο του Albert Einstein, ο οποίος πέθανε στα 75 του. (Όταν πήγαινα σχολείο μαθαίναμε ότι ο μέσος όρος ηλικίας στην Ελλάδα είναι 75 έτη.)
Αφορμή για το φόβο μου ήταν το γεγονός ότι η αυτοψία του Αινστάιν στο νοσοκομείο του Princeton έχει χαθεί εδώ και πάνω από 18 χρόνια.

Για κάποιον ανεξήγητο λόγο άρχισα να προσθέτω ερμηνείες σε αυτό το τυχαίο γεγονός.
Μήπως ο Αινστάιν να πέθανε εθελουσίως στα 75 του για να δείξει ότι αυτή είναι η ιδανική ηλικία θάνατου;
Οπότε άρχισα τις συγκρίσεις.
Αν η ιδανική ηλικία θανάτου είναι τα 75 χρόνια, τότε ο παππούς μου έζησε 17 χρόνια παραπάνω.
Αν λοιπόν πεθάνω ιδανικά στα 75, αυτό σημαίνει ότι έχω ήδη ζήσει τα 2/5 της ζωής μου.
Τότε είναι που τρόμαξα. Τότε ένιωσα ότι υπάρχει ένα ρολόι που χρονομετρά ανάποδα μέχρι τα 75 μου.
Σκέφτηκα πως το μετά (το θάνατο) δεν είναι συνειδητή επιλογή.
Για την ακρίβεια δεν είναι καν επιλογή. Είναι σαν αυτά τα "μαθήματα υποχρεωτικής επιλογής" που είχαμε στη σχολή.
Θα το πάρεις, γιατί είναι στο πρόγραμμα, άσχετο ποιό από τα επόμενα θα είναι:
θάνατος χωρίς μεταθανάτια ζωή,
θάνατος με ορθόδοξη μεταθανάτια ζωή,
καθολική (ή προτεσταντική) μεταθανάτια ζωή,
ισλαμοπαράδεισο,
ινδουιστική ανακύκλωση ψυχών.*

Η πρώτη μου διέξοδος ήταν να κάνω κάτι στη ζωή μου μεγάλο, να προσφέρω κάτι που να αξίζει, στην επιστήμη.
Όχι απλώς να αναπαράγω ανθρώπους και σχέσεις (χωρίς κριτική σε όλον τον υπέροχο κόσμο που προτιμά αυτήν την επιλογή), αλλά να δημιουργήσω κάτι με στόχο την ουσία και την υστεροφημία.
Ίσως έτσι να νιώσω ότι αυτά τα 75 χρόνια που μου αναλογούν δεν έχουν περάσει άσκοπα.
Αργότερα, μελαγχολώντας που πιθανότατα να μην φτάσω σε τέτοια επίπεδα υστεροφημίας, σκέφτηκα πεθαίνοντας να βοηθήσω κόσμο που έχει ανάγκη τα όργανά μου.
Η δωρεά οργάνων ως "μια κάποια λύσις" με ανακούφισε αρκετά, ωστόσο δεν με ικανοποίησε απόλυτα.

Πάντως από όλο αυτό το ταξίδι του νου, έμαθα πώς είναι αυτός ο ύψιστος φόβος, που δεν είχα νιώσει ποτέ ως τώρα, ατρόμητη όπως πάντα.


Λονδίνο, 14 Μαρτίου 2016


* Η λίστα είναι ενδεικτική, αλλά σίγουρα η όποια επιλογή θα περιλαμβάνει θάνατο. Με σεβασμό προς όλες τις θρησκείες.

different bed every night

It might sound more adventurous than it actually is.
But I am sleeping (or not) in a different bed every night.
Flying around like a bird, here and there. So right now, in this quiet room in Brixton, my life feels like this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ntM59FkTpME