It’s strange how in moments like this — like the pandemic where we’re all in, on a planetary level, and have no idea what’s coming next — we realise that we can’t ever know what’s coming next. Pandemic or no pandemic. In the past, we used to plan — maybe you did. I haven’t really done much of that, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but it brought me to who I am today. I’ve learned the hard way that having some kind of plan can lead to a planetary level. Sometimes. Just as, sometimes, greatness happens when we don’t plan at all.
It’s when my awe grows stronger, and everything feels like a drive along the Malibu coast — around ten in the morning. You’re wearing an ivory t-shirt, the soft cotton kind, slightly wrinkled — it’s the cotton that wrinkles look the best on. It floats around your body. And around your favourite blue jeans. I know I’m excited to be inside of them and excited at the thought alone of my next favourite pair of jeans. I’m curious what it’ll be like. These thoughts — barely even thoughts at all — are riding for a couple of seconds — for a fraction of a second — through my mind, as I’m absorbing every bit of my ride on the coast. I haven’t yet been to Malibu, by the way.
Just when you think you’ve got it, life laughs and another season begins. It changes you, it makes you who you are, but first it makes you go: Maaan. It gets rough, at times, but you know what Gloria Steinem said: The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off. And then, one day comes, and everything connects to everything you’ve been doing in the meantime, and you feel you’re back on the Malibu coast. Or in a completely different place. On a completely different journey. You fasten your seatbelt and promise yourself to give your best. To live as much as you can, and feel the breeze every now and then.
When I got two tickets to a U2 concert, in Manchester, two years ago, for my brother and I — two, two, two, two, aw — I thought I had it all under control. Of course I did. You can’t go to a concert somewhere on the planet without any planning, without any planning in advance, without starting to adjust the course of your life around the freshly constructed situation. Or can you? You don’t live in Manchester — or even in England. It is, however, one of the nicest thoughts riding through your mind while you’re riding on the coast. A concert. For that previously mentioned fraction of a second. Whatever it might have been, control or plan, everything that happened around that particular U2 concert — eXPERIENCE + iNNOCENCE — was beyond any plans I could’ve imagined. Everything that happened around that particular U2 concert was meant to become a story, and stories are what our lives are made of. And then you get it. Are mesmerised by it. In awe.
It feels like falling in love — even though we know nothing feels like falling in love. I hope you know what I mean. Wait. I think it really is falling in love. It is with life that you are actually falling in love with. And I don’t only mean it in the fairytale way, but in the hardcore — straight to the centre of you, the love that changes you — way, as well. The love that took you so deep into yourself that you had to change. Grow. Any other way is just too dull and we only have one life. This is not a dress rehearsal, as Bill Murray would say.
When I said around that particular U2 concert, I meant it. I’d expected the concert to be everything that U2 was. It was more and I enjoyed it with my brother from the best seats in the Arena. I might’ve been lied to for the entire half of the year prior to the concert — as I’d bought false tickets on viagogo — but, magically, the best two seats in the Arena unfolded effortlessly within an hour prior to the concert. Imagine the thrill! And the huge lesson on trust. I was — yet again! — blown away by how far people would go to lie. Would plan to go to lie. I can’t lie. I’ve lied to myself a few times in life, and it felt horrible when I realised it. I choose not to lie to anyone, as well. Naturally, I forget it’s even possible. At the same time, acutely, I can sense a lie from a distance. But hey, we’re only human. Or are we? It always comes out one way or another, anyway, people, relax.
A lesson on trust or — more romantically — on the ease the Universe surrounds us with. Surprise!
When you capture this whole thing — life — you find yourself in a peaceful place. Now you know. Now you know better and can’t even be mad at it. I’m so lucky to be aware of all the magnificent things I feel when I’m happy. From the simple to the grand. But what is simple, and what is grand? When it’s intense, it’s intense. Full stop. Same with the pain, but it’s only life, remember?
It’s the truth. It felt like we grabbed each other’s naked hearts with our bare hands in public is a note in my phone, and the picture of it on my mind has stood with me ever since I wrote the note.
Raw.
When I no longer am in any sort of control. I have the ocean on my side. Or Tour Eiffel. When my mom and I have some incredible conversation. Or when my eyes turn into cherries because I’m wearing the pink jacket I adore or into hearts because I’m eating watermelon. Chocolate.
Stories connect people. A cool lady just sent me this, the other day. Out of the blue.
My dear, I feel the need to write to you, although I have felt pretty embarrassed, until now, to do so. I absolutely wanted to tell you that you have super inspired me and made me try to change (for the better) things in my life, or better said, the way I see them. With some simple stories, that was it. Today was the first day I applied it and I feel great, thank you!
Who doesn’t love compliments? Only this isn’t a compliment. This is her telling me, without even realising, her story. I was so happy because I felt her courage to tell the story to herself first. Her story. Through a message to me. We are almost strangers and, for a fraction of a second, my heart skips a bit. For someone else falling in love. With themselves first. It’s called acceptance, evolution, and it’s a choice.
Things are starting to surface from the shallow now. If you let them. Choose to. The kind of stories you share with the people you interact with are in close relationship with the intimacy you have with yourself. You can’t have the grand thing without the simple thing first. Yourself. You only get to know what grand is to you when you get to you. Me. Us. And then, one day comes, and life makes it into a planetary level. The cosmos says so.
Raw.
I don’t know when I did it, but I must’ve made the decision to live every second, every fraction of every second, one day. It just feels natural to me. It feels good. The idea of it being a grand thing didn’t cross my mind, so I didn’t put it into words. I might have done it, however, in the back of my mind. In my heart. I believed everyone lived every second. I believed everyone enjoyed every fraction of every second. It’s tough at times for me, too, but I’m not talking about those times. With everything happening right now, hurray, we — collectively — have slowly but surely been forced into a commitment to live every second. Consciously. No one had planned for it, but here we go. Simple. Surprise! Fractions. Now.
The year 2020 brought the word presence in front of us all. Diving fully into something is what makes me feel alive, and it’s what connects me to the person I’m sharing the dive with. It would be wonderful to do so with every person I meet (imagine!). I know it’s what I unconsciously intended on every time, but I’ve learned that it’s ok to choose not to if it doesn’t feel right. It made me sad too many times not to do something about it. So, I’m pretty much editing my life as we speak. I now fearlessly shut the door to something that is not me anymore, just as I fiercely open myself up to let’s see. You can’t let anyone steal moments away from you, not even the voices in your head. Walls are cartoonishly and invisibly built. It feels fantastic when walls are just as cartoonishly and invisibly dissolved. And I ride, we ride. On the coast of Malibu. For more than a fraction. For days. Months. Years. I can, almost, smell the ocean.
Nobody said it was easy is what they say. But the Universe keeps on surprising us with ease. It can get pretty hardcore, it takes discipline, it can be done, and there’s nothing like it. Like ease. Yum.
This current period has been my longest yet, filled with countless sleepless nights in a row, or nights when I slept but didn’t feel at all likeI did. Luckily, with just as many mornings filled with an energy that helped me not to focus on the sleepless effect, not to give it too much thought, not to feel tired, and instead, focusing on feeling everything I’d felt during the hours I just couldn’t sleep. Thriving on it. A small gather together with friends, at home, until five in the morning, sometimes, helps. Not to sleep. But not to be able to fall asleep even then, at five in the morning?!
The following picture was taken after one of these sleepless nights, at a friend’s wedding. A different kind of ride. Still, a ride. Sometimes, it’s on this kind of rides that I thrive. It rhymed way too nicely with ride not to use, one more time, thrive. Or sometimes. It’s the times when I write — a lot — in my head, on the ceiling. About the truth and about what could be done in the hours when we’re all awake. To appreciate this world for what it is. A miraculous place.
Also known as love, you know. Also known as life.
I even befriended two ladies doing surveys on the phone in these hours when we’re all awake, jees.
My brother used to get in trouble a lot as a teenager. For partying too hard. I was always there to witness it and, then, try to cover it up, so I must’ve made the decision not to cause trouble. Surprisingly however, haha, I ended up partying harder than my brother (without causing any trouble) and, just as surprisingly (and beautifully), he ended up being one of the best surgeons in the world. I don’t know if surprisingly or whatly, but luckily, I’m here and I salute you.
I love the feeling of not being able to hide something. I don’t really have brakes, maybe that’s why. I love making. When I’m into something, or the time spent with someone, or — rarely but surely — when I’m into someone, and always in a friendship, I just don’t stop. Until you show one aspect of ugly personality and it’s over for you, somewhere deep in my heart I kept on telling myself until I finally got it.
Loyalty is like that, like love, like a tight hug, like everything from above, and let’s not put pressure on doing the right thing. You just do the right thing. Easy. No pressure. Easy. Yes, twice.
Where is this going? I don’t know, but a lot of the people I’ve been talking to lately don’t know what they’re doing on New Year’s Eve, either, and it marks the end of the year 2020. I believe this pandemic is only the beginning. Things were bound to happen and get out of control. Some things, apparently, should be kept under control. Our planet seemed to have needed to build some walls, for a bit. Following rules from the heart is just as fabulous as breaking the rule of never wearing pink and orange together. And red. And sequins.
Is Let it be a synonym for Let go? Beatles, music, and this is how I get to a very fun friend of mine who sent me Dua Lipa – Levitating at the AMAs 2020 that I absorbed. Her name is Sweet Pie.