Tag: self-awareness

Stability

Recently, I was accused of being a “live-in-the-moment” kind of person. I’m saying accused because in that particular conversation it wasn’t said as a compliment. Or at least that’s not how I saw it.

What matters is, it got me thinking.

First of all, I don’t view myself as that kind of person. I would love to be one, though. I would love to anchor myself to here-and-now, to be fully present in the current moment. Instead, I find myself constantly waiting and chasing. Worrying about the future. Regretting or missing different parts of the past. Always looking forward to something. Always impatient for something. “Can’t wait until” slips from my lips way too often.

As I tried to analyze why I’m like that, I realized that partially (mostly?) it’s based on rarely having any stability in my life.

I was a kid when a country I was born in collapsed. I witnessed a whole empire crumble around me. Not from the news on TV. Not from the stories retold by others. No, I was there, inside it. Everything I knew, everything I was used to—it all changed pretty much in an instant. 

Most of the nineties in my part of the world (my teenage years and young adulthood) was pretty much spent in survival mode. It taught me a lot. It made me strong and resilient. But it took its toll. The concept of stability had become alien to me. 

Or maybe it started much earlier, when I was a little girl and found out that my father wasn’t a part of a scientific expedition in a faraway land as I had believed. And that he was never coming home. Because he didn’t have any interest or intention to. Because he was living happily with his family in the same city as me and didn’t really care if I existed.

Maybe it was then that I started subconsciously waiting for better, happier times. 

Because, as we know, hope dies last.

My first big loss was my grandfather who was like a dad to me. Strong, active, and full of life. He fell and broke his leg, and then he was gone within a month. All of a sudden, everything in his body crumbled like so many things tend to do in my life.

Then there were ten years of marriage. I loved him with all my heart. We built a house together and had a son. We even moved to a different country together. Throughout most of those years he was struggling with addiction. And I kept trying to save him. Needless to say, stability doesn’t belong in a scenario like that.

He lost the battle. Taking his life at 35, leaving behind a 10-year-old son, and shattering my whole world once again.

Years of living in immigration as a single mother didn’t contribute to feeling secure. The mythical concept of stability kept slipping away from me.

So no wonder I struggled to find comfort and security and to be able to look into the future without fear. 

Maybe this “can’t wait until” is rooted in the never dying glimmer of hope. I wish I could let go of the fear and doubt. To stop worrying about everything and just live happily in the moment. Such conflicted feelings — fearing the future subconsciously yet craving a better tomorrow and always trying to rush the time to see if that bright future is indeed around the corner. 

So yes, I have to admit, becoming a “live-in-the-moment” kind of person is not a reality for me now, but most definitely an aspiration.

Ironic

It’s so sad and ironic

how some things we learn

are a bit too late.

It’s never really too late, of course,

but have you ever felt

that you can’t help but regret

the time wasted on

trying

wanting

hoping

to learn something you know now?

I could never appreciate

being alone

in my younger years.

It was a fear of sorts.

Whenever faced with the

opportunity

(danger? threat?)

of spending some time on my own,

I’d panic and look for ways out,

or ways to let someone in,

calling

texting

arranging

What wouldn’t I give now

for a taste of that

alone time?

On my own,

with my thoughts,

in my world,

in blissful silence,

or with music blasting,

on a lazy stroll,

or curled up with a book.

With no need to

ask and answer,

pretend and engage,

entertain or be entertained

I’m enough for myself,

if only feeling somewhat guilty

for avoiding my own company

for all those years.

Reflections: Coming Soon

If anyone told me a year or two ago that I would be publishing a poetry collection, I’d find it hard to believe.

Since I started writing four years ago, I’ve always had several works in progress. I was working on my fantasy trilogy, writing short stories in between novels (for different anthologies and for my own short story collection), and even started learning screenwriting. 

I think the first poem came out of nowhere when I was feeling overwhelmed with my teenage son going away for a month and a half. Writing my feelings down was sort of therapeutic. Back then, I just left those words in a note on my phone, not knowing that it was the moment a new door opened for me. Or, rather, for my words—in poetry form.

I often say that poems pretty much write themselves, and it’s true. They either come or they don’t. I never sit there thinking, “I should write a poem. What will it be about?” No, the words just appear in my head and insist on being written down.

As more and more poems poured out, I started putting them all together into a collection (as well as sharing them on social media and here on my blog).

They’re all different. Some short, some long. Some dark and raw, others uplifting and inspirational. 

One thing they all have in common is that they come from the depths of my soul. From looking inward and trying to understand myself and this world. 

That’s why I decided to call this book Reflections.

I’m beyond anxious to share this collection with the world, to be honest. I have never considered myself a poet. All the words — as imperfect as they may be — are genuine and heartfelt. And it’s a scary thing, serving your heart on a plate for everyone’s judgement.

But I dare hope that apart from judgement my words will find a different kind of connection with the reader. One where they make you feel something. Where they inspire you to look inside, and ask questions, and seek answers. Where they inspire reflections of your own.

Below is the back cover blurb for Reflections. It releases on November 30, 2024, and is currently available for preorder on Amazon.

If you decide to give my little book a chance, thank you from the bottom of my heart and I truly hope you enjoy it.

Who do you see when you look in the mirror?

A friend? An enemy? A stranger?

Have you ever truly stopped to look into those eyes—not a rushed glance, but a long, deep, searching gaze? They say eyes are the windows to the soul. What do you see in yours? Light or darkness? Hope or despair? Pain, anger, joy, or love?

Perhaps it’s a little of everything. Inside each of us is a vast, unexplored universe—a fascinating, complex world that often feels too scary to confront. But if you find the courage to dive in, to truly look inside, you might discover something you’ve been searching for all along, perhaps without even realizing it.

You might discover yourself.

Reflections is a poetry collection that invites you on a journey of self-discovery, encouraging you to look inward with open eyes. Through raw, honest verse, this book will be your companion as you explore the depths of your soul and meet the person waiting to be found.

What a Funny Time

I’m watching my little son as he sleeps. Marveling at this miracle we’ve created. Trying to wrap my head around how perfect he is. And how this perfect human being came from inside me.

It’s such a strange season of my life. My youngest turns 5 next month. And no matter how cliche it sounds, these years just flew by in the blink of an eye. They really did. There was a lot that happened in these five years, of course. There was a whole pandemic that turned the world upside down. There was a start of my writing career that turned my life upside down. There were struggles, adventures, learning curves, moments of joy. Tears and laughter, hellos and goodbyes. Everything you could imagine. And yet, I look at this little angel (aren’t they all angels when they sleep?) and wonder—when did this happen?

I’m about to book a one-way flight to another country for my eldest son. He’s 18. He’s got a life of his own and rarely finds time for me. And he’s getting ready to embark on a journey of a lifetime, going abroad to study.

For a year, to start with.

Although he’s planning to stay longer. Okay, in fact, he’s not planning to return.

Which is a good thing, of course. We can never truly go back, we can only move forward. Besides, every journey, every smallest trip we take always cause irrevocable change inside us. You just can’t come back as the same person.

I know it. And I love it.

When it comes to my journeys.

But as I plan for my young adult’s departure, I realize that those eighteen years also flashed by. My little baby is not a baby anymore. And I have no idea how it happened.

Years.

Decades.

I’ve been building my life.

And a life for my kids.

Rebuilding it.

Sometimes from scratch.

Making decisions.

Going places.

Changing directions.

Countries, cities, homes, identities.

Am I even me anymore?

Who was me, anyway, and does it even matter, if I’m not her?

Who am I now, and who will I be next year?

I’m just someone who finds herself in a funny time.

Turned 45.

Published my 4th book.

Got my 1st tattoo.

Celebrated my mom’s 80th birthday.

Choosing a cake for my son’s 5th birthday.

Hoping my other son can come home for his Christmas break to celebrate his 19th.

Numbers.

They don’t define anything, yet they carry so much weight. We always rely on numbers, don’t we? They scare us but also ground us at the same time. As if they’re something we can desperately hold onto in this whirlwind of a life.

Except we can’t. Because numbers tend to change. They never stay the same. Because this is how time works.

Funny, crazy, weird time.

Good deeds, cherry tomatoes, and the power of perspective

An old lady in the street was selling cherry tomatoes and figs from her own garden. They looked nice, and I decided to get some. Besides, I figured it would be a good deed since she had to sit there in the August heat on a tiny, uncomfortable chair.

I ended up paying much more than I would had I bought them at the marketplace or on a supermarket. Not sure if she did it on purpose. I suspect she did, because she kept telling me different prices and didn’t even weigh the fruit like she did for the previous customer. So I left with a bit of an unpleasant feeling. Like when you want to do something good but people take advantage of you.

But then I sat on a bench, while waiting for my son’s daycare to finish, took out a fresh fig from the bag and just ate it right there and then. It was delicious.

And I thought to myself, it doesn’t really matter, does it? The fact that I overpaid. The fact that she shortchanged me. What matters is I had the right intention, and the result was worth it too.

So instead of spending the rest of my day feeling hard done by and reminding myself that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, I figured I’d just enjoy the taste of a fresh fig.

And as soon as I took that decision, my day got a whole lot better.

Things We Carry

People carry so much.

Our whole life, we carry something. And the older we get, the more our spines bend under the weight.

We carry bags full of shopping. School backpacks. Purses. Piles of textbooks. Suitcases. Boxes with our belongings as we move to a new place.

We carry our kids when they’re tired. We carry their backpacks, their toys, their scooters and skateboards.

We carry our pets to the vet clinic.

We carry guilt. Regrets. Nostalgic memories.

We carry self doubt. Grief. Fear. Anxiety.

We do carry our dreams too, but they are the lightest. They don’t weigh that much—so oftentimes they escape and disappear high in the sky like a balloon.

Our hands are rarely free of weight. Neither are our hearts and minds.

So sometimes we catch ourselves looking up at the birds roaming in the sky and a faint whisper of envy touches our souls. What would it be like, we wonder, to be so light and free? What would it feel like to soar among the clouds with no added weight?

And someday, we’ll find out.

Childhood fears

When I was little, 

there were two things 

that would keep me up at night

and have me in tears.

First was the infiniteness of space, 

and the other was the inevitability of death.

I live in a city, I thought. 

The city is within a country.

The country is within a continent,

The continent within a planet.

The planet is in space.

Now, what is space within?

Where does it end? 

And what’s beyond the border?

Enough to drive a five-year-old crazy.

I’m forty-five and I still don’t understand.

Death terrified me. Not the process,

not even the fact itself. 

Rather, what happens after.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.

Here I am, I thought, 

Lying here and thinking these thoughts 

and feeling these feelings. 

But when I die, what happens then?

Who’s going to think and feel these things? 

Where will I go? 

I can’t just disappear now, can I?

I can’t just stop being. 

That would be wrong. Too cruel. 

Impossible and illogical 

Just like the infinite space.

Forty years later, 

I’m not afraid of death as such.

I definitely don’t look forward to it. 

I hope I have plenty of time to enjoy this crazy life.

But when the day comes,

I know I won’t just disappear.

Space still baffles me.

Snacks for the Soul: 100 Friendly Reminders for Daily Growth and Personal Empowerment

Sometimes, we need to be reminded of things. Things that might seem obvious at first but we still tend to lose sight of them.

Wrapped up in our struggles, worries, and doubts, we forget the seemingly simple things that are, in fact, essential. 

Important reminders can come from anywhere. Learning about someone else’s experience, facing a certain obstacle in our own life, or hearing advice from a friend. It’s up to us what we do with these little lessons. We can take some time to ponder their meaning and importance, or we can gloss over them and move on with our lives–only to be reminded of those things later in a different scenario. Because the Universe never gets tired of teaching us lessons.

One thing I noticed long ago was that I possess much more ‘wisdom’ when I give advice to someone. Listening to a friend and giving my input opens my eyes to things that I have been doing wrong myself. When I feel the need to help someone I find myself knowing and understanding things I forget when I face similar struggles of my own. That’s one of the reasons why open and honest communication and sharing your feelings and emotions with someone close can be highly beneficial–even life-changing. 

And sometimes, the advice I gave to a friend comes back to me when I need it the most. Moments like that are precious. Again, the Universe works in intricate ways. 

My upcoming release, Snacks for the Soul, a book of 100 friendly reminders for daily growth and personal empowerment, is a collection of bite-size reminders that can serve as your daily guide to living a more fulfilled and joyous life. It can be your companion for those moments when you need a gentle nudge towards the light. For moments when you’re looking for inspiration, comfort, or a reminder of your inner strength.

Most of the reminders I’m sharing in this little book–in fact, all of them–are reminders I need to hear myself from time to time. It doesn’t matter how many times you hear them. What matters is the moment when they really make an impact. The moment when you are ready to connect with them, embrace them, and take action. 

So I figured that if they’re all compiled together in a short and simple-to-digest form, they will have the strongest effect. You can read it over and over. You can make notes and mark those pages that resonate the most with bookmarks/napkins/old receipts/colorful post-it-notes. You can write down your own thoughts on the pages. You can read it from the first page to the last, or just open the book on a random page when you feel like it. 

And of course, you can share it with friends and loved ones. Because when we share–when we genuinely try to help someone–we learn our own lessons. I know it works for me. Give it a try. I’m sure it’ll work for you too.

A Letter You Should Write To Yourself

Hey, you.

How have you been?

Honestly?

I know you’re probably putting up a facade. You’re strong. Of course you are. Never doubted it for a second.

But how are you doing, really?

Have you been hard on yourself again? Have you been keeping track of all your failures instead of your achievements?

Are all those unticked boxes on your to-do list keeping you up at night?

Are you still letting people’s emotions and moods get to you?

I know. Me too. 

But guess what — it’s okay. You’re not alone in this. Don’t be fooled by glamorous images. This is the raw, unaltered, behind-the-scenes reality.

What matters is, though—things can change. No, let me rephrase it. YOU can change things. You can change YOU. 

There’s only one caveat. Change needs to bring you happiness. 

You think it sounds selfish?

Not really.

Think about this: happy people don’t go around hurting other people. They’re too busy being happy. And it’s not part of their nature anyway.

When you’re genuinely happy, all you’re focused on is keeping up that vibe. Increasing the level of happiness—both IN you and AROUND you.

Everything that disrupts that vibration needs to go. So instead of bringing someone down, you’ll naturally be inclined to lift them up. 

Which means that you being happy contributes to the overall level of happiness around you—and therefore, in the world in general. 

Not all that egotistical if you think about it, right?

But the best part is, you don’t have to burden yourself with saving the world. 

You can just save yourself first.

So back to my first question—how are you? Really? Are you happy? Fulfilled? Enjoying where you are, what you are, who you are?

What’s lacking? What’s missing? What can you do to change it?

Think about it. Give yourself a generous gift of your precious time and undivided attention. Focus on you. No one else can do this for you. Nor should they. 

It’s your life. Your choices. Your responsibility—but also, your freedom. 

Go be happy. 

Much love.

Reflections, Regrets, and Resolutions

As the year comes to an end, many of us find ourselves reflecting on the year’s wins and losses, and making plans for the future.

If we find time for that, of course. 

The thing is, though, there’s always time. It’s more about finding the energy and mustering the courage to be honest with yourself. 

Of course, you don’t have to. After all, it’s just a date on the calendar, isn’t it? Nothing magically changes overnight. No matter how much we would like it to. 

Change takes time and effort. And whether the beginning of a new year is a big thing for you–or you couldn’t care less–it’s still a great time to sit down and reflect. 

The end of the year can be quite an overwhelming time. When you’re overwhelmed and stressed, when you have a million things on your mind and your to-do list, it’s easy to end up feeling lost and confused. To miss the important part. 

And by the important part I mean looking back and assessing what you have achieved. What this past year has taught you. Have you changed? Have you grown? Have you done anything you should be proud of? 

First of all, you’ve made it through this year, with all the challenges and obstacles life keeps throwing at you. It’s already a big win. It’s a massive accomplishment. 

But look deeper. Look at the details. Find a few minutes amongst the festive craziness to sit down and think. Pick up your notebook, or open your notes app on the phone. Start writing down the things you have accomplished. All of them, big and small. Don’t rush with the plans and resolutions. They’ll come later. Acknowledging what you want to change in your life is important, but it also means focusing on the things that you lack. That you “failed at” so far–in your own thinking. Start with the things that you have achieved first. You’ll be surprised. We tend to overlook these things. We take them for granted. They always come with a “but”, have you noticed? 

“Well, yes, I did publish a book this year, but only one… And I haven’t finished writing my next one.”

“Well, yes, I did make some progress in my career, but I want more. This isn’t enough.” 

“Well, yes, I did make some great memories of traveling/spending time with friends and family/reading good books/watching movies/going to concerts, but I wish I had done more. Seen more. Read more. Written more.”

I’m sure you’ll find these thoughts familiar. We always seem to focus on the things we want/need/haven’t accomplished/fear missing out on. 

Except it doesn’t help. It’s the least productive thing to do. You can’t go back in time and change things. But you can make a plan for the future. A solid, detailed plan of actions you are willing and ready to take in order to achieve those goals. 

But first, you need to acknowledge your wins. Contradictory to my favorite quote, “Don’t look back, this isn’t where you’re heading,” sometimes you need to. Sometimes, you need to look back and assess what you’ve done wrong and what you’ve done right. Doing that will help you with creating your plan for the future. 

Look at what you have achieved and learned this year. Give yourself credit. See how much effort you have put in. It’ll show you how capable you are of achieving things when you are truly determined. 

At the beginning of the year, I was terrified each time I was invited to do an author interview. I still did. But I never went back to watch them. It bothered me. So I made a decision to step out of my comfort zone. I started a podcast. Then I started a YouTube channel. Later in the year, I had an idea of making a series of videos with daily reminders. Things I myself need to be reminded of, from time to time. I spoke on podcasts. I’ve done several interviews on YouTube.


At some point, I felt deflated and discouraged. After constantly putting in a lot of time, effort, and energy, sometimes I feel like it’s not leading anywhere. I’ll be completely honest–I regularly think of giving up.

And that’s where I’m going wrong. 

Whether my words reach thousands of people, or hundreds, or only a handful–they still matter. They can still make a difference. If I can help one person today–in one way or another–it’s already worth it. 

And without a shadow of a doubt I know I have grown from this experience. I have overcome my fears. I stepped out of my comfort zone. I still don’t have thousands of subscribers–and I don’t know if I ever will–but I am proud of what I have achieved. I’m proud that I accepted my own challenge. And this is what I decide to take with me into the new year. 

I haven’t published several books, learned a new language, or climbed Everest. I haven’t saved the world. But I created several new ones in my stories. I published the last novel in my fantasy trilogy. I wrote several short stories for my upcoming collection. I started writing poems. As of today, I’ve made fifty videos with encouraging daily reminders. I went to another city to see a concert by my favorite band. I listened to music, read amazing books, made new friends on different social media platforms, watched some breathtaking sunsets at the sea, and took thousands of photos and videos. I celebrated my little son’s fourth birthday, and in a few days, I’ll be celebrating my elder son’s eighteenth.

There are so many blessings, wins, achievements, and miracles in my life that I’m feeling overwhelmed when I think about it. 

And this is a good way of feeling overwhelmed. It’s the right way. 

Please find the time to reflect and count your blessings. Please celebrate yourself, your life, and all your accomplishments this year. And then–if you do decide to make New Year resolutions–you’ll be making them not from the position of lacking something or being unhappy with your life. You’ll be looking at what other incredible things you can do in your amazing–one and only–life. 

Take care of yourself. Be kind to yourself. And don’t forget to be proud of yourself.