Running For Your Greater Good

"Not all those who wander are lost." 

-J.R.R. Tolkien

Living abroad was the best education I’ve ever received. It was my exposure to the world, the vulnerability of being alone which instructed wisdom and strength. 

The flexibility of going from one place to another, without a plan or guidance, was liberating.

I understand that roaming isn’t suitable for all people. It may not work for the average person, but it fits for the earthly observer. The individual who loves the work, work, work model, may deem those without a permanent residence, as irresponsible or running away. Actually, it’s the opposite. It administers liability while adhering for the individual to rely on the self; which is something that the corporate realm is completely, incapable of teaching. The very concept of running is noted, yes, but running towards something. That something is only defined by the runner, not the viewer.

For those that don’t accept this alternative way of life, the unnecessary disapproving comments should remain silent. The griping resentment is, in truth, connected to a deep-rooted, miserable onset of issues that should be discussed with a therapist. Not the one who chooses the road less traveled.  

If you’re a person who loves to float around and finds comfort in random excursions, then the corporate daily motions will stifle your desires. The M-F offers a pension, 401K, and stability for the future. True, the periodic professional sphere lacks thrills, neglects passion, and doesn’t give enough time off; but the money is good, the people treat you right and the benefits package is awesome. This day-to-day schedule will work for you, should you decide to exchange the wandering voyages, for 5 star hotels and the expensive hamster wheel.

I’ve reclaimed my American citizenship and transitioned to the land of comfort and security, while giving the piping American dream, a Greek anecdote. I’ve become accustomed to crossing the Adams Street Bridge over the Chicago River, which is a challenge to do in the midst of an icy, cold, freezing winter. Whenever I venture across that bolted, slippery steel, I’m reminded of a time when I was in Chang Mai, Thailand, and I became scared to walk over a bamboo bridge, that was high above a waterfall. My good friend convinced me that bamboo was strong, so he jumped on it, assuring me that it was, indeed-y, tough. 

I used to have great adventures and amazing events that I’ve experienced with people I didn’t know. I once rented a motorcycle to drive through the streets of Langkawi, Malaysia. During this feat, I got lost in traffic, and along with the unorganized street patterns, the congestion of cars, my heart rate increased with panic. I ended up getting into an accident. Next thing I know, a 17 year-old girlie, with a naked baby hanging off her left boob, and a basket perfectly balanced on top of her head, came by and guided me back to my hostel. I bought her lunch and we talked about all the lovely topics that only girlies discuss.

It’s those accidental events that remain absent in my life. Unfortunately, they have become replaced with the superficial, the ignorant, and the insane. Luckily, I have the influence of friends, who are still abroad, to continue to inspire me with their wonderful endeavors. Here’s a few:

1. A girlfriend of mine just landed a job in Antarctica…I’m serious.
2. Another continent-jumper-friend of mine, has been roaming around South America, documenting the difference in ass sizes, thus becoming well-acquainted with the curvier species. Needless to say, he has joyfully, extended his stay.
3. A good buddy of mine has been flying between South Korea and Thailand for the past few years, and loving it.
4. Two girlfriends have been teaching in Guatemala for the past few years, and thoroughly enjoying their lives. 

I’ve been reading a lot about expats never wanting to return home, and there’s nothing wrong with that as their bold undertakings continue to stimulate and inspire those who dream of the world beyond the white picket fence. There’s a world to acknowledge, an earth to investigate, and these people I’ve mentioned above, are whole-heartedly, running towards something great.

Keep running towards the object of affection, the place of your dreams. Even if it’s for a few weeks, a couple of months, or several years, go for it.

If anyone tries to stop you, smile and politely, give them the middle finger, as you board the plane to your next stop. 

The Radicals Take Center Stage

"Individual commitment to a group effort - that is what makes a team work, a company work, a society work, a civilization work."

-Vince Lombardi

Question: How do you pay a debt that was impractical, to begin with?

This is the Greeks argument with the Troika. The Troika, is a slang term for the three financial institutions in charge of the EU: European Commission (EC), the International Monetary Fund (IMF), and the European Central Bank (ECB). Over 200 Billion Euro was loaned to the Greeks, by the Troika. June 2015 is the start of the first debt to the ECB.

ECB handed the Greeks a Billion (plus) Euro loan that was never used for the people. Instead, it was used against the people. Along with the borrowing came a hardship life of austerity, where public cuts were slashed, incomes diminished, and people were left penniless and hungry. Properly deeming this phase as The Greek Depression.

Things went from bad, to worse. From worse to terrible. Terrible to God-awful. More money was being borrowed from the Troika, thus creating a vicious cycle of instability.

You see, the euro is a marriage of political and economic union that will not separate. Once you’re in, there’s no leaving. Those of you who believe a Grexit is the answer, it’s not. Those who believe a transition to the drachma is an option, that isn’t possible either. If either of these became a reality, the result is: the country will diminish. Bonds will be cut; allies will be enemies, thus creating a third world. Therefore, the euro is here to stay with the Greeks having to find a way to increase the volume of money and the value of currency. How?

Alexis Tsipras, the leader of Syriza, a socialist-communist party with radical-left views, vouched for change and demanded that revision will happen. He guaranteed advancement for the younger generation. He confirmed a reversal from the financial crises we were experiencing. He vehemently expressed a declaration of assurance. The Greek people, in a state of reckless poverty, listened to a man who indicated a future of excellence. They observed the travesty the leaders before him had done, and agreed that enough was enough. They chose a different leader, a radical-leftist, to take control of the austere situation they were placed in. They voted for a man who promised a positive development in our country. Tsipras was their final attempt to end the madness.

“Greece will now move ahead with hope and reach out to Europe, and Europe is going to change,” Tsipras said. “The verdict is clear: We will bring an end to the vicious circle of austerity.”

Tsipras asks the Troika to lower the debt. Troika isn’t agreeing for there are guidelines implemented by the EU. The money that was borrowed must be returned. However, it’s unrealistic to pay back over 200 Billion Euro with the interest rate climbing and the internal revenue declining. There’s no way they can play catch up.

ECB is demanding they borrow more. The new Financial Minister, Yanis Varoufakis responds, “Bankruptcy cannot be dealt with by more borrowing.” In addition, the good-lookin worldly professor is positive to find a solution, because he is a man who is ready to, diplomatically, find resolve. “This country never had a government that was prepared to bargain.”

Maybe it does now. I don’t trust Tsipras, but I do have complete faith in Varoufakis, for he isn’t a man who barks orders. He educates a topic, explains the problem with the solution, and gains positive results.

Greece may be led by an atheist, a matter I won’t even touch, but the true resolve here lies in the hands of a man who became an “accidental economist.” Someone that the whole country agrees, will gain success by giving strength to the people and totally wiping out their humiliation.

“We will destroy the Greek oligarchy system.”

-Yanis Varoufakis

Expressions of Belly Dance

 “Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world.”

-Voltaire

Belly dance is an improvised art form. This profession has a multitude of profiles, which come in a variety pack. These numerous assortments require attentiveness to detail, as well as vigilance, for the synchronization of music. It is the harmony of the rhythm that meets the body.

The most important mode is the feeling of the music. It is the way to perceive the sensitivity of the inventiveness, which is translated through the body, and brought to the people, for the people.

It is perfection.

Perfect is the absolute way to conform to a description of an ideal type. It’s a lifestyle, a culture of its own accord, for the dancers all strive to deliver a performance that is unearthly original. The classical timeliness of this stainless expression is endless. One can always move, can always sway, and can always hum the tune of the drum. However, it takes a physical absorption and consistency to perfectly deliver.

Belly dance demands strength. It is most important for the dancer to be calm in the heart and serene in the mind. If the heart and mind are connected to the music, the body will follow its desire. If the body is peaceful, then the movements will be graceful. The elegance of these refined movements is to honor womanhood, beauty. It’s timeless and filled with expression.

Tahiya Carioca, a legendary belly dancer, said Each decent Oriental dancer must express life, death, happiness, sorrow, love and anger, but above all, she must have dignity. What does she mean by this? Every dancer is trained to captivate and to inspire feeling. The dancer grounds herself to the flow of the accented and rhythmic pulses while conveying emotion, to the viewer. All of the energy that lives within the dancer, emotions and thoughts, should be placed in the function of belly dance. It is with determination and tuning into the music, that the dancer is able to implement and achieve a great performance. 

It’s not just the dancer that is highly regarded in this style. The music is the motivator for the movement. 

The instruments are crucial. They ignite the rhythms with their chemistry. It is the beat which assists the soloist dancer. This distribution praises the sounds of Egypt, Syria and Lebanon. The dancer produces the natural beauty of the Middle East, all with the help of the musicians. They follow the dancer, as the dancer pursues the music.

The exotic tunes command attention. It is the thunderous sound of the drum that escapes from the drummer’s hands, encourages adrenaline; it generates power while requiring establishment. The volume of the oud, a small guitar with a short neck and round body, shapes unique sounds with a low, warm timbre. The Egyptian harp, the qanun, the most integral part in Arabic music, has a quick modulation of sounds only achieved to temporarily rise the tuning of the strings. It lays down the law of pitch, organizing the scale for other musical forces, to feed off one another, thus impressing the dancer to accompany the beat.

  

These, and other classical pieces in the Arabic world, constitute a performance of perfection. What the musician and the dancer feel while they perform is one thing. However, for the audience, it’s an exclusive experience, connecting them to that moment, realizing that they are being brought into being, feeling, living.

To bring a person into being, that is perfection.  

Confidentiality in Love

" Tu esti pentru mine relatia necesara. Toti ceilalti sunt intamplatori."

Jean-Paul Sartre

Intimacy is strongly yearned for. It is confidence placed within affection; it is the performance of intense passion, which is defined by our animated presence.

When I meet a man I’m interested in, I wonder if he would be able to attain familiar affection.  I’d prefer to take it easy at first, absorbing each other’s skin and fitting into one another’s body. There are limitations and sex is something that takes a while, but once it flourishes, then the real challenge within the relationship, begins.

Connecting with a man of interest is my first step. I like taking the time to actually learn about a man I’m attracted to. Tell me your story, your past. I want to know who you are, who you were, how you got here. If the lines of communication are clear and each person is gradually learning about the other, then sex will be amazing. The act of declaring yourself while acknowledging your lovers self, will inevitably, grant for great love. I truly believe that.

Sex is the second most important aspect in a relationship. The way that partners enjoy their private assembly, is crucial. Excitement is necessary. Keep the lover intrigued because sex is the one, certain way for two people to solidify their love. It’s a sure step. Don’t stall; become creative and throw yourself into your lover.

Everything from rose petals on the bed to a quickie in the office’s bathroom at 2:15 pm, will inspire the craving. Promote the fascination and don’t worry too much if they like it, trust me, they do. Let your partner peel off (or rip, whichever you prefer) your clothes and grant that visual feast. People are visionary lovers and need to see bodies responding to theirs. Initiate excitement. Honey, let them in! The interest is there. Expose yourself and allow them to devour you. I assure you, your lover is totally aware of your presence and involvement. Tango is a dance for two. Sometimes more, but that’s a totally different article.

They want all of you, not a limited portion of you. All sex is agreeable but there are just some things that can’t be crossed unless specified otherwise. I know some girls that enjoy a good hair pull; other girls don’t even want that to be a consideration. Blowjobs are easy as long as the girl is in control but if the guy wants to dominate the girl’s performance, it can be most unpleasing for her. Missionary is good…for some. Leather and whips can be kinky and sexy, but freaky to the rest. Some boundaries can be crossed.

Consent and limitations are discovered as the relationship advances. Test the waters but be mindful as to how you set your limits. Don’t demand from your lover; ease them into your desires, introduce them to your likes. Identify one another. Tone sets everything; be careful as to how you direct your lover in regards to your lovemaking. It’s a sensitive subject that is somewhat bolstered by steely communication. Be clear and teach your lover how to please you. Only you know what you like. Show them.

You don’t want that person to work hard for you, so why add pressure? The key here is not to be selfish; it’s to share, to satisfy. Feed them the drive to keep going, but don’t give them reasons to stop, drop, and bounce. The importance here is that he/she feels they have all of you as it is just as necessary for you to feel the same. Give permission for them to soak you in. They’ll taste all of you by swimming into your character and bathing in your skin.

As a woman, I realize that a lover will ultimately own our bodies. Grab our curves, embrace the passion. It’s intimacy. It’s the feeling of mouth on skin, breath of words, pleasure and entitlement. A woman’s body becomes an obsession, a possession, and vice versa. Own my body and please it, praise it, do what you will to keep me around, have me stay in your bed until the weekend is over. Build the excitement.

Create the relationship and make it memorable. It doesn’t have to last forever.

Garden Identity

A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all, it teaches entire trust.

Gertrude Jekyll

My parents used to have a garden in the backyard. This bit of earth was designed as their personal heaven. Nothing could interrupt the chemistry that existed in our land.

 

During the fall and winter, it was an empty dirt box. No life, no aromas, just cold and bare. During the spring, I witnessed my parents breathing life into it again, sorting out the seeds and planting their harvest. Their Earthbox was in constant, flourishing motion filled with a multitude of fresh fruits and vegetables.

It was their private Greek Oasis.

Their backyard held flowers of various colors and sizes, emitting fragrances that not even the sweetest perfume could chemically carry. My mother decorated the house with her flowers and gave them away to friends so their luscious scents could fill their homes. They had fruit trees that decorated our backyard. Pear trees, apple trees, fig trees and orange trees. My father gently observed their leaves, their bark, and the fruit blooming. He would pull his chair from the patio and sit with them, checking their physique, double and triple reviewing if they were healthy.  

           

Eggplants, tomatoes, scallions, lettuce, cucumbers, onions, cantaloupe, watermelon...my parents’ hard work was a large part of our family dinners. Any interruption to mama and baba’s daily production would cause a great upset to them both. For instance, the heavens would be cursed if any of the vagabond rabbits would eat their wonderland of production. Should the insects assist in the decay of my father’s romaine lettuce, his vengeful act was the equivalent to God and the devil joining hands. If the worms found homes in his pears, my mother was quick to use her dominant energy to evict them. They equally raised hell if anything, or anyone, touched their summertime love.

Gardening wasn’t just a project. This cultivation was cherished, valued time that was shared together. This designed their unison by actively pursuing a scheme that only they understood. My father would rush home from work, change into his gardening clothes, and grab my mother so they can spend hours conditioning their beloved ground. They sweat their love into the earth.

The reason my parents began their garden was to remind each other of their personal goals. It was crucial for them to remember that all things take struggle: the Earth, their children, their lives. All things. Together, they eliminated the dust from the terrain by establishing the beauty of their land for people they mostly care for. It’s a promise of love and deliverance.

They made their garden exist for purpose. That ambition was greatly valued, for it created their sector and presented their cultural love. Every seed represented determination. With every dig, their initiative gained prosperity. Those fruitful missions breathed accomplishment to their intentions. They targeted their objectives by marking their own land with a firm togetherness by habitually working on their progress. They moved together to rectify any messes that were created, remedying any disturbances in unison, while never being alone.

Mama & Baba's solid field identified their harmony within each other, within themselves. Their marriage was defined by those months of planting and harvesting. Their love was deeply rooted into their Earth, dreaming of their Ionian Sea, but were glad to be standing together in unison, on their own shores.

Shouldn’t we all be so proud to work on something for ourselves, to better who we are, and to maintain our identities through our projects? In the end, it’s the love that matters. You and your partner are what matter as you both perform collectively. Together, you gather the materials to make sure that success is met. The condition of unity greatly magnifies that there is something much larger than the self, than mere selfish acts. It’s all about the love and where the love is going.

How will it get there? How will you accomplish the discovery of that identifying love?

Take a hint from my parents. They found it in their garden.