Τρίτη 31 Δεκεμβρίου 2013

My Higher Self Speaking

I asked my higher self for guidance for 2014,
here's her answer:

Dear Eirini, 

Please Be Happy.
That's all.
You are being taken care of.
You are making it.


What advice is your higher self giving you for this new year?

Grab some paper and write it all down.
You might be surprised at what you hear...

I know I did.
I was expecting a lengthy lecture or an elaborate 'How to'
butt all I got was this..
Be Happy.

Seems my higher self is a firm believer in simplifying things....

And you shall be given.
Anything and Everything.
I promise.

Happy New Year!

Παρασκευή 20 Δεκεμβρίου 2013

How to Wrirte a Masterpiece

Writing is a strange thing.

When you write anything, anything at all, you transfer a great deal of your personal energy into it.

Meaning, not just that your thinking energy is translated into words, but that the way you feel as well as parts of your personal 
magnetic energy are transfered into your writings.

People who read them can sense that.
From the very first sentence.

They can sense your energy and feelings and relive them each and every time they read your stuff.

They probably cannot put this into words, so they just say, out loud or to themselves ''Great style of writing!'' or ''what crap is this'', depending on whether they resonate with your energy and feelings at the time you wrote it.

It's not just your ideas they resonate with ( though they may reason it is so).
It's not your style of writing. 
It's not the hard work you did or didnt put into perfecting it.
It's not whether they like you, personally, or not.

It's the energy you transferred to it ,
because of who you are and how you felt when writing it.

 People resonate with your energy and feelings at the time you wrote  your stuff. And it usually resonates with them because they either feel the same way as you when writing it, or would like to access the same feeling as you or, more often than not, because they are attracted to your personal energy that you transferred into your writings.

So here's the recipe for a masterpiece:

-Write from the heart, from the core of your being. 

Don't censor yourself. 
Write as if those were your last words before you leave this world, or as if your life depended on it. 
Give people a jolt of jenuine emotion.
Be you in all your scary, magnificent , outspoken self

-Write only when you feel the same way you want your readers to feel when reading your writings.

And since it's not convenient to wait until you feel that way to start creating, learn to  get into that special place of feeling before you start creating. There are countless ways to do that. It's a conscious effort and sometimes just stating your intention to feel a certain way is enough to get you to that place.

So now you know.

Go write something that's gonna blow your and our mind away!

Then share it with the rest of the world 

Κυριακή 24 Νοεμβρίου 2013

Feeling good, no matter what

Feeling good, no matter what, is an extreme act of courage because we are all under a lot of pressure to feel bad. 

Society expects you to get upset about war, terrorism, crime, poverty, scandal, global warming, politics, taxes, all the shitty stuff that goes wrong around us. In most cultures, feeling bad about bad things is a virtue. It means you are in solidarity with everyone else. You fit in. You watch the news, read the paper, and rehash all that negative (resistant) energy with your friends and family. It gives you something to talk about.

Whereas if you feel good? You stand out. 
You might attract envy. ''What is she so happy about?'' or raised eyebrows ''she's naive and stupid, cant she see what's going on around her?''

Happiness is a lifelong habit, folks.
After some time, it gets easier. But it still reqwuires consciouas effort.
Every single day. 
You have to wake up and shift your mood carefully and deliberatelly.
Because the natural tendency of us humans is to feel like shit it's like a weed. It grows of itas own, whereas happiness and positivity hjas to be cultivated..
It's easier too. Feeling like crap gives you the best excuse to stay in inaction mode.

But you know what?
One of the fastest roads to old age, bitterness and being a grampy old man or woman, is feeloing bad.

Think about it. Each time you think a grumpy thought, you grow old faster, physically and mentally. Your positive thoughts on the other hand is a mental workout that keeps you mentally and emotionally fit and young

Choice is yours

Τρίτη 19 Νοεμβρίου 2013

9 things you probably dont know about me

9 things you probably dont know about me:

1. When I was one years old I almost died of dehydration. I was so ill that I had to be transfered to hospital where they practically hooked me to an IV and forgot all about me. Since I was exclusively breastfed, with the odd solid food now and then I stubbornly refused any and all kinds of nourishment in hospital and was practically starving myself to death. Then one day my mom got sick and tired of hospital shit, she very angrily declared that she was taking me and let her see anyone try to stop her. So she took me home and nursed me back to life. Hence my irrational fear of hospitals and doctors.

 I taught myself to read and write when I was three just by watching my older brothers and sister do their homework, was considered a child prodigy by my family and started reading Dostoyievsky when I was 5. Didnt understand much about social context in said books, but it gave me a morbid taste for romanticizing poverty and squallor.

3. My most valuable possession is a book with various texts from ancient greek writers printed in 1876 that belonged to my greatgrondmother who was a teacher at a girls' school . I had to fight for said book with my oldest brother who was also claiming it as his. I won because my argument was stronger: our great grandma would have liked her book to be in the possession of a female teacher great-granddaughter, after all.

4. When I was 19 I had a love poem handwritten for me in Latin,with my name included in the verses, in perfect metric after the fashion of a latin lyric poem. The German boy who dedicated it to me predicted that one day I'd marry the love of my life and have four kids( I did). I had lost contact with him for 20 years until one night I astral travelled to the university he is now teaching, wondered why I was taken there when I woke up, then searched for his name in the list of teaching stuff, and lo! behold, I found my teenage crash again, as an esteemed professor in Mainz, Germany.

5. I own a little Roman coin dating back from the 3rd century BC, found in former Yougoslavia ,now Serbia depicting an emperor or something called Gratianus given to me as a present by an illicite trader of antiquities. I have every reason to believe it's genuine, it probably costs a small fortune and it is probably illegal owning it. But I will never part with it even if I ended up homeless in the streets.

6.I can throw up by just looking at someone chewing bubble gum or by touching a balloon. Baloons and bubble gums are my pet loathing.

7. Was mercilessly and rellentlessly bullied for being a precoscious child in elementary school and for wearing a full-body brace for treating scoliosis in high school. Bullying would sometimes get so worse that I would throw my guts out before going to school and had the shakes while walking there every morning.

8. My favorite pastime as a child was saving puppies and kittens from the streets, hiding them in old abandoned houses and stealing food from our kitchen to feed them. I was beaten several times by mom for this

9. If I had three outrageous wishes in the world granted to me, I'd choose a/ to stay fertile for as long as I live naturally, without the heany artificial hormones, b/travel in alternative universes at will c/have a little daughter of my own

Τρίτη 12 Νοεμβρίου 2013

How to be always happy no matter what

  • Someone from abroad texted me today:
    ''You doing well despite the economic turmoil'' ?
  • My answer:

    ''Αmazingly well. Because my wealth resides all in my heart and mind and soul and so I am almost always full of joy''.

    I wasn't kidding. 
    Or putting up a brave face or pretending that everything is ok, pasting a fake smile all over my face to hide away my pain, anxiety or troubles.

    I am faring amazingly well in this horrible economic crisis sweeping through my country.

    Not because I belong to those lucky few that are so financially secure that they needn't worry about money.

    Not because I am so naive or uninformed that I have no idea what is going on around me or how poverty and despair is turning my nation into havoc.

    Nor am I being reliant on anyone else to secure my financial future.

    Yes, you could safely say that when it comes to finances or the future , I'm as much in the shit as anyone else in my country.

    ''Then how come you say you're fine?''.

    I am not just fine, my friend.

    In fact sometimes I 'm so overwhelmed with joy that I feel like dancing or singing (which I frequently do, see photo above taken in my elevator for evidence).

    • Because my wealth resides all in my heart and mind and soul and so I am almost always full of joy

      Being happy is a habit of mine.
      A decades long habit.
      And like all habits, it continues automatically now, no matter what goes on in my life.

      But it took tremendous effort and time on my part to be cultivated and it still does require conscious effort to be maintained.

      It's like a mental workout.
      If you could see my positivity and joy 'muscles', the ones in my heart and brain, you'd probably notice a positivity six pack and buttocks of joy made of steel, so to speak.
      My aura of bliss is usually so strong that is noticeable not just by friends and acquaintances, but also by those who don't even know me and just come in contact with me, people in the street or even contacs in social media. 

      They notice and frequently comment of it:
      ''How come you're always so happy?''

      Some are intrigued and surprised.They wonna know what amazingly good things are going on in my life, my source of happiness and joy.

      Most of them though are annoyed
      ( you wouldn't even believe how much it pisses people off to see you happy in an atmosphere of mental gloom and unhappiness, it's almost you give them a blow of offence, like ''how dare she be happy when everyone else feels like shit?'').
      Of course, same goes for positivity as it does for a gorgeous body. When we see someone with a gorgeous body, most people's instinctual reaction is either envy or admiration. 

      But very few stop to think for a moment the sheer hard effort this kind of gorgeous body requires. 
      They attribute it to luck, good genes, good metabolism, whatever. But the truth of the matter is, it's just pure hard work.

      Same with positivity muscles.
      Yes, I can tap into my happy mood almost whenever I wish. It's like I'm turning on a switch, that easy. 

      A friend once gave me some weed to smoke-I told him I've never tried any- and its effect on me was minimal. I told him''I dont need any fucking mind altering drugs or herbs or booze to help me get into my happy, I can do that automatically whenever I wish''.

      I realise of course that I am blessed,because I do possess a priceless gift.
      But like I said before, It is a gift that has been and is still consciously cultivated every single day of my life.

      Just like a mental workout, it takes discipline and perseverence on my part to be maintained.
      You see, I wake up every day, almost every single day of my life, and my first thought is ''Shit, another day...'' same as anybody else.

      Every morning, the same old struggles:
      -My body aches from scoliosis and middle age aches and pains and from having to sleep on the couch every single night because my bedroom is occupied. 
      And signs of aging in my mirror aren't helping with boosting my morning mood, either.
      -My 6 year old throws frequent tantrums before during and after going to school.
      -My home is usually in a frightful mess because of all those boys of various ages occupying it.
      -My long overdue bills and insane taxes-upon-extra-taxes pile up yet a bit higher every morning
      -My mum seems every day yet a bit more forgetful, more tearful and more needy in her old age and house confinement and more dependent on us for help
      -My ongoing legal battle with banks and morgages-four of them, to be precise- is a constant reminder of what might happen if said battles are lost and we all end up on the streets
      -My two dogs are, through no fault of mine, exiled in a village miles away from where I live and they need to be visited and fed and taken care of, not to mention for the drives that need to be arranged for me to arrive there.
      -Students that are in need of my teaching services seem to becoming scarcer and even more demanding every week, asking much more for a much lesser prize.
      -Assholes in my life seem to be multyplying with an alarming frequency, their crazy demands of me and my time also mutliplying in directly proportion.

      And so, so much more that cannot be said or even insinuated here or else I'm in deep trouble.
      Enough to give me my fair doses of misery of everyday.
      Except they dont.
      Because my happiness resides all in my heart and mind and soul and so I am almost always full of joy
    Why am I telling you all this?
    About my being happy and joyous in the face of trouble and difficulties

    To brag?
    Or convinced you of my 'better than Thou' attitude?
    Actually ,no.
    (or maybe just a little....)

    I'm doing this to show you by example that it's totally achievable and feasable to be happy, blissful even, in the face of all sorts of troubles and difficulties.
    It's like a mental workout.

    And in my next post I'll be showing you a dead easy way to turn positivity and joy into a life-long habit.

Τετάρτη 6 Νοεμβρίου 2013

Your greatest Wish, Your Deepest Fear

Your greatest wish is always your deepest fear.


Look inside and you'll see it's true.

 What you've always wanted for you,
is what scares you shitless.

 Because maybe  what if you're inadequate?
What if you're gonna hate it once you have it?
What if it's not for you, after all?
What if others will hate you for it?
What if you'll lose and hate yourself because of it?
What if?
What if.....

The list goes on for ever

I read it somewhere, 
about our greatest wish being our deepest fear
and pondered about it.

Damn, it's true.

What I want the most in this life, 
scares me numb.
All sorts of worst case scenarios
inundate my mind.
And then, the inevitable conclusion:
''maybe I'm better off without it''.

No, you aren't.
Better off without it.

Fear is your fetters of choice.
Keeping you chained.
Safe. A safe slave.
Chained to your safe misery, or your safe mediocrity.

You wonna live forever like this?
Fine. Live like this.
But dont blame your wish unfulfilled.
Blame your fear.

Unchain that beast.
Your fear and your wish go hand in hand.
Let them loose.
Let them howl.

Then see what happens

Your life won't be easy.
But it will be worth living.

Τρίτη 15 Οκτωβρίου 2013

The Red Dress Challenge

This is the dress -and matcing underwear- I'll be wearing on Valentine's day.

That's four months from now.

Why am I planning this so early?

Because its fun!
Well, ok, not just for fun.

Because said dress is one size too small for me now.
But I'm about to change that in the four months to come.

This is my Red Dress Challenge.

Currently I'm size 10 (american size) or 38 (european size )
but the dress is an 8/36.

I picked up a challenge-and a dress size- that is neither too intimidating nor too uninspiring.

I wanted to have a visual that would remind me of my goal to lose inches, get fitter and leaner, as I've been slack with my fitness plan over the last six or so months.

And not just with my fitness plan.

Having my business closed down was a big deal for me.

In many ways it was the best thing that wever happened to me.

In others it just sucked big time.
Financially wise the least of them.

Because having no business meant that out of the blue I was left with too much free time in my hands. 
I experienced the other end of the spectrum. 

While I was used to working 10-12 hours a day outside my home previously, I was now free to spend lotsand lots of time at home.

And then I realised a weird thing:

Being a stay-at-home mum is just not for me.

I hated it big time.
Don't get me wrong, I admire those women who do it. 
They have my deepest respect and hold them in real high esteem.

But for me, it meant boredom. 

And, most importantly, 

a deep sense of losing my ability to focus!

And by that I mean losing my ability to focus, laser-beam like, on a meaningful endeavor and execute it with precision, speed and efficiency, the way I was used to doing before, in my business days.

Believe me, it was really frustrating. 

Not to mention bad for my serlf worth.

Paying attention, for long periods of time, is a form of endurance athleticism.

 Like running a marathon, it requires practice and training to get the most out of it.

 And I realised I was severely out of practice

Which had an impact on all aspects of my life. 
In other words, I grew lazy.
And unmotivated.

I was lacking in life challenges other than keeping the house clean
and the kids fed 
(which is not asmall feat of itself, of course, day-in, day-out).

Because life challenges is one of  biggest self growth tool there is.

Here is how it usually works:

Beliefs keep wearing out as time passes because we always keep collecting new information. If you once succeeded or made a great achievement then after sometime you might start to believe that you only did it because you were lucky or you had it then and now you lost it and not because you are really good in general.

If that situation persists, you gradually lose your self confidence on the medium or the long term. On the other hand, if you faced the life challenge and managed to deal with it, you will renew your self confidence and you will reinforce your positive beliefs about yourself.

This is what losing my ability to focus made me realise:

It's where I get my oomph in life from.
So I'm gonna start up a new one.

Dont ask me when or what about. I'll tell you when it's time. 
But everything , everything begins with a decision, and mine is now taken.

b/ I need to regain my ability to focus again
And to do that, I need a series of smaller challenges to strengthen my challenge-overcoming muscles and give me back my focus-champion status.

So I begin with something somewhat humbler, but really meaningful to me.

The Red Dress Challenge.

Work out hard enough every day for the next four months.

Sweat again.

Get back in real good shape.
Then show you the results, red dress-clad and all.

And start up a few new challenges on my way to gaining back my laser focus abilities.

Maybe you need a challenge too.

Maybe not the red dress challenge, but still.

Let's do this.

Lets get back to our empowered selves together.

It's gonna be fun, I promise

Δευτέρα 7 Οκτωβρίου 2013

A Fairytale

I love fairy tales.

Literally and figuratively.

As a kid I used to collect fairy tale story books like other little girls collected dolls.

'' What would you like for your birthday Eirini?

-The collection of African tales we saw in the bookstore the other day''

or a few years ater

-'' If I get straight A's in my school report,  will you guys get me the Greek Mythology Collection Of Stories ?''

It was even more fun to put make up my own fairy tales,consisting of the wild phantasies of a most vivid imagination of a child that mostly lived in her head . My stories were especially popular with  my numerous nieces and nephews -I became an aunt at 8 from my cousins and at twelve frommy sister - and they still remember fondly and have even kept some of those story books of mine, along with their illustrations done by none other than the young author herself,said drawings being a great source of joy for me.

'Auntie, please tell us one of your stories' had come to be one of the most often repeated phrases in my family, linked for me with the most sweet and innocent memories of my teenage years, there on my sister's couch as three or four pairs of eyes were looking at me in wide eyed wonder hanging from my every word.

As is usually the case, when it was time for me to tell stories to my very own kids I was usually too exhausted from the drudgery of house chores or later from a hard day's work at my business to be in the mood for making up stories.However I would daily read to my sons from many story books in order to nourish their imagination as their mom used to nourish hers oce upo her childhood.

The following little story is a tribute to those tales of the good old auntie of those times who still makes up stories in that too-stubborn-to-grow-old head of hers,a head still full of shepherds and princes,dragons and fairies....

Once upon a time, in two different distant kingdoms, there were  two babies that were born at the exact same time and day, the same minute-second, a little prince and a little princess whose souls were so much alike you'd swear that when Plato wrote the myth of the hermaphrodite about the male-female spirit that was violetly split in two and since then have been seeking their other half, he must have had those two in mind.

These babies, as always is the case in fairy tales, were endowed with every talent and grace, the pride of their parents and the entire kingdom, by all means.

Now the three good fairies that gave them those talents upon birth would notice those striking similarities in said babies and discuss it among themselves and the youngest of the three said:

-'' Wouldn't it be great if those two met and fell in love some day! They are sooo well matched. ''

-''Not possible '' said the oldest. You know that what is written cannot be changed. They are meant to marry into other royal families and thus live happily ever after.''

''-So fate cannot be changed, ever? asked the young one again, lost in deep thought .

- "Only if they were two different people, different to those they were intially born, could they possibly meet,'' replied the other.

- 'Two different people ...'' contemplated the little fairy who, truth be told, was as stubborn as hell and if an idea entered her head there was no way she'd forget about it until she had it her own way.

Time passed and the Prince and the Princess grew up endowed with all graces that God bestowed upon them, namely beauty, brains,keeness for learning and kindness, which held together all the other talents, such as a rarediamond bids together all other precious stones in a priceless jewellery piece. Sadly, though, as is usually the case with all gifted creatures in this world, they both had too high an opinion of themselves.

The Princess had all those suitors kneeling in a semi-circle at her feet, her parents, all the courtiers and the entire kingdom doting on her and her fiancé, the prince she had chosen to be her husband showered her with gifts and affection daily All those poisonous fumes of false adoration, however, had begun getting into the Princess's head and one day- I could swear that good little fairy did have something to do with it-a strange idea occured to her: '

'' Supposing all those that swear in my name knew I wasn't a princess; If it wasn't for all my father's riches; If it wasnt for my skin which is pearl-like and if it wasnt for my hair which is flaxen-gold; if it wasn't for  my voice, sweet as a lark's; would they still love me if it wasnt for those things? Oh,even a milkmaid is luckier than me becauses she knows she is being loved  for who she is, but I am not ever to know if this is the case with me.''

Then the little fairy appears right before her eyes.

- 'You can find out, she told her,'' but it will cost you a lot of pain, many tears and perhaps your entire life as you now know it. This might tear you apart and you might even not be able to stand it. On the other had it could heal you from the poison of vanity that has already started eroding your soul and you will know for sure who loves you for what you really are, without your external garnish. Think about it well, for once it begins it is a one way road.''

Because her heart was made of good stuff and with a little help from her angel who loved her dearly, the princess' soul conceded to go through the test. From that day on a strange transformation began to creep upon the princess' entire self. Her white skin began to take a bruise-like hue, her golden hair turned purple, her gleaming eyes lost their luster and took the colour of dark ink... in other words, slowly but inexorably, the princess was turning into a freak of nature, a very sad and strange sight to behold  ..... No longer would her cheerful songs echo throughout the palace and her fun-loving and sunny disposition was replaced by melancholy and depression, until the poor thing was reduced into a shadow of her former self.

Naturally her parents called in the best doctors from all ends of the earth to cure her, but after a while they would shake their heads and admit that such an illness was uknown to them and therefore could  not be cured. Despair befell upon the Kingdom, everyone was in mourning. Until one day there appeared a strange magician in the palace that stared deep into the princess' eyes and claimed that, yes, she could be cured  as long as she ,the princess, would wish it to be so.

''-Of course she does! cried her mother.''

-'' That illness is self- chosen ,'' reported the magician,'' so without her consent it cannot be cured ...''

-'' Tell him, love, that you wish to be cured,'' cried both her parents,''  say it so that everything may be well again!''

The princess lowered her head. '

- 'Then you do not love me as I am; You only loved that beautiful external picture me?'' she asked with a heavy heart.

Turmoil in the palace and all over the kingdom. News spread like wildfire across the country that the princess had chose it herself, woe begone, to become an ugly, depressed monster, a freak of nature! And not just that but she liked more herself in this way and moreover she wished to be her old self again!

Combined efforts were made to make her change her mind. Her parents begged, cried, implored,  threatened, swore at her, locked her up, let her go hugry, knelt and prayed and used up every kind of trickery or manipulation in a vain effort to make her give in. Her fiancé came raging and humiliated her and accused her of being a psycho,of making a fool of himself, asked her to get a grip of herself and cut the crap, otherwise he would just take his leave; that he just couldn't get a hard-on for a crazy purple freak, besides he wouldn't wish for his children to be born fuchsia-colored and what the hell had she done to his good ol' smiling princess?

One day, when her parents told her curtly that the very next day she would be disowned if she did not change her mind, and her fiancé stated that he demanded back all the gifts he had given her -impossible to find ; half of them she had given away and the other half she did not even remember what she did with- otherwise he would take legal action and put her in prison until she paid him back, the purple princess ran away from the palace and began running as fast as she could, until her legs gave in and she fell down and wept bitterly and wished to die.

Then it was dark  and she had hardly any tears left so she accepted the fact than nobody really loved her for herself but that was ok ,fine, they could go fuck themselves, she wouldn't give a shit from now on and she would go see the world.

And thus began the wanderings of the purple ex princess, who sold apples and chestnuts to earn a living, her face hidden under loads of headscarves while at night, ah, at night she would do the only thing that reminded her of her old life in the palace: she'd climb up a hillside in the woods singing her heart out and the sound of her haunting voice echoing in the surrounding villages would spread unease among country folk who'd cross themselves and close shutters because hark! there she was again,  the purple enchanted creature of the woods.

As for the prince, you don't suppose the little conniving fairy of our story left him to his own devices, do you. One day while he was sitting on his own and contemplating that, fuck, life was great, but where is the princess of his dreams? Every time we thought he had found her, the whole thing went sour after a while, leaving him nauseous and uninterested and hungry again  ...

Now here comes the little fairy again.

-'' A penny for your thoughts, or rather how much will I get if I help you find her?''

-'' Fuck off, fairie, I have found her a hundred thousand times and I can find her as many more as I wish .''

-'' Your fate dictates that you two shall  never meet ... unless...unless you become two different people..''

-'' Unless you become two different people..'''' ...

Not that the prince believed in all that fairy nonsense, but because on that particular day he was bored and because he was too ingenious to pass on a chance for having a good time, he conceived a plan that sounded like fun.

He decided to become 'a different person' for a few hours, so he disguised himself as a peasant and went into town to see if he was convincing enough. Now that was loads of fun, not to mention the sense of freedom he experieced! Plus he made good use of his natural acting talent. And it was incredibly addictive. The next day he did the same thing, and so did the next and the one after that. He began to change roles because his restless mind could not stay too long in the same scenario. And so he tried all the possible scenarios that could be imagined.

He lived like a courtier, like mule driver, lame whore, like an old drunk or a sophisticated fag who smelled of  rosewater, a horsethief  and a misery taxcollector, and a wild coutry girl, an adviser to the Prince and Minister of Finance, theking's attache, a ex-convict,  a poor-as-dirt poet-bard, l a powerful emperor of the Indies, a poor old fart or a sinister monk.

He became an expert in disguise and role-playing, learned the secrets of makeup
 and elocution to be able to change manner of speech, voice and accent at will  and his vast collection of wigs and costumes would leave speechless anyone that might behold them.

Of course, there were always some roles that remained favorites, the ones he returned to with pleasure again and again because they resonated with parts of himself. Such as the role of the Knight in the Shining Armor who was incredibly popular with females and helped him to get laid to his heart's content and leave them with many happy memories.Or the role of the Preacher, which enabled him to gauge public opinion and to pass on his very radical ideas, to pass o faith and hope. And many other roles, in fact too many to mention here.

 He said to himself that he was a social worker that combined work and play. Many a times did he disperse his gold to the suffering,  heard the monologue of dying lonely souls, the crazy ravings of schychotic old maids nobody would talk to, not to  mention all those ulnoved ones whose beds he ket warm many a night adopting the role she'd feel the most comfortable with. He'd identify and evaluate what you needed to hear or do, the very next day, lo! behold, he was at your doorstep like a deus ex machina. But usually he would only appear in just one role per person, switching identities with the same individual was dangerous, if they were perceptive enough they'd realise that something was amiss.

When he felt too satiated to go on anymore and thought that he had seen and heard it all, and that from now on it would be just rerus of the same old shows ,life decided to serve him the ostracized purple princess. First he heard the voice and the nightly songs.  He identified the source of the voice, not difficult to locate for someone of his calibre and with his years of experience in hide and seek.

It was not the voice. Nor was it because of the purple mutations, the signs of her sufferig.Sure enough he had experienced his fair share of human pain during all his mad wanderings. Not even the signs of past beauty stirred his emotions, for he had seen ,tasted ande xperieced too much of it to be impressed. And nor, of course, was it because of her sad stories, which she was dying to tell him ayway, tell anyone,being a true female herself.

What did it for him was the spark of recognition.

The 'Alikeness' the Soul.

Which the little fairy had suspected of and which he could now see evidence in front of his very own eyes.

First he tried to make his acquaintance with her as the Knight in the Shining Armor.What the fuck, it was a tried and tested recipe. Didn't have much of a success though, she kicked him out eventually, knights reminded her of all the worthless assholes that would first flatter her then reject her, but at least that's how their story began. As a preacher he had somewhat better luck, but again the former princess held her ground. Masks scared her and reminded  her of all that was fake in her former life. So did games that smacked of hypocrisy and fakeness.

Meanwhile the prince with the thousant faces quickly outdid himself and broke his most basic principles for her sake : he began to return back to her time after time in many different guises: each disguise, each successful new role of his, ended up leading him to her side sooner or later. He said to himself that he was testing her, gauging her reactions, finding out about her preferences, likes and dislikes, the very fabric  which she was made of. But the truth of the matter was that through his many faces he would slowly but steadily reveal himself to her: each role of his would open a window into his soul for her.

The purple exprincess did not know if she should be angry or flattered with all this craziness.

On the one side her days were filled again with beauty and meaning as she was trying to guess what he would be up to next, how he'd appear to her and in what form: would it be the postman, the milkman, the lunatic of the village or her very own personal confessor? by instinct she could of course see through his disguises but it was fun trying to guess each time or even to incriminate innocent passersby, thinking it was him again. Not to metion how incredibly comfortable she felt in his presence, not having to hide her purple skin and her sick soul as she was accustomed of doing with other people, to avoid the merciless eyes of the curious who either pitied her or condemned her.

On the other side, how humiliating for her who had led him into the very sacred sanctuary of her soul not to be able to see his real face... wasn't it enough that she had suffered so much, she now had to be made a plaything of? How dare he? She knew  his real idetity, because the prince was dying to see her finding out herself, so she intuitevely did find out. But his true face she had never seen and that filled her with blind rage that would make her flee from him i amost predictable intervals. No use. He'd track her down and come back to her in one disguise or another.

The prince's own situation was not the best either. He began to spend more and more time by her side and most of his other roles and disguises no longer appealed to him. He wanted to stay with her night and day and whenever he could not help it and had to go in one of his escapedes he would drag her along because he needed her eyes constantly on him.

The princess:

-'' When will I see your true face;''

The Prince:

-'' Tomorrow''

But tomorrow came and the prince, remembering the words of their good fairy, knowing that only as two people differet to the ones they used to be they were meant to be together, would come back to her in yet another mask .... and a load of love and affection and tenderness ... that he was in  such a sore need to give as she was sorely in need to receive...

Now aunt Eirini's tales were  often leaft unfinished and her nieces ad nephews had to supply their ow edings to it.Same as now that I'll be askig you to provide your very own ending to this story.
Dont by shy!
Please be imaginative and bold and a child again and tell me your very own version of how the story should end. The one that will appeal to my soul the most will be posted here.

Nick the blogger did it again!what an awsome ending he wrote! The greek version of it is here

Of course, I had to translate it for you:

One night the princess could stand it no more ,she would rather lose him forever if ishe wasnever to really know him. The voice of her anger that nested within her and which she did not know she had in her grewso strong that wasfinaly voiced.She got up from his lap and took a few stepsaway from him. This time she did not look into his eyesShe staredat the moonwhich was nearly lost in the fog of the winter night.

"I want you to decide if you want to be with me, or with yourself."

"With you of course" he replied immediately. "can't you see that I have decided long ago?"

She wanted to look him in the eyes to respond. She knew, however, that if she did that her courage wouldfail her. For once, she had to be stronger than her addiction for him. She kept her eyes on the small piece of the moon that was left shining in theblack sky. She hoped to have time to speak before the last glow of the moon was lost in the great darkness.

"No, you have not decided that you want to be with me. You want to, but you have not reached a decision yet, "she said, and waited to see if the prince would be quick to deny. But he did not speak at all. Just listened.

The woman looked at him anxiously, as a tiny piece of the moon struggled to keep glowing against the darkness that swallowed it quickly.

"Tomorrow night I'll be waiting for you here. I want you to come. You. I do not expect to meet either your mind or your imagination. I am waiting to meet you. If I find you, then WE deserve to be together. If someone ELSEcomes back to me, I'll send him away and then leave this place. "

The prince did not respond. He did not give any sign of whether he agreed or not . His footsteps echoed on the hard ground. The last moonlight disappeared completely in the cold darkness. The footsteps sounded increasingly distant A few seconds later, he was lost in the night. The princess immediately closed her eyes, still gazing at the sky.She lay on the ground and slept.

The morning morning everything seemed too quiet. The birds werenot singing, the wind does not touch lightly upon leaves and twigs as usual and the birds did not chirp as usual She was in a state of calm yet agitated expectancy. Agitated  because ishe wasafraid of what the night would bring, but also calm because, in one way or another, the pain would end.

The evening arrived. The thick clouds of the sky hid the moonlight, a very weak moon that hardly made its presence felt. Everything seemed blurry eyed. It difficult to discern the leaves from the trees becauseof thethicknight fog.

She could not even gauge the passing of the time, whether it was time to meet her prince or not. But before she has lost her cool, she heard anoise from afar. Grass beig stepped on and heavy steps n  the ground. In vain did she try to follow the noise. Shee felt disoriented. Simply stood still in the hope that, if he was indeed the prince, he would find her.

And, indeed, a misty figure appeared be The breathing of the figure sounded familiar, but his body was covered from top to bottom in a black robe with a hood, as the monks. The princess watched and waited. If it was him, then it was his turn to speak.

''The figure dressed in black held out his hands.In his hands he was clutching a black cloth that was hiding something underneath it. 

 She could sense the fear of the figure. It was like the fear of a child trying to grow up.

She raised his hand to unveil the unknown object. Once her fingers touched the black cloth, the figure spoke, and she she kept her hand still.

"The person behind the disguises is not the true me."

The princess tried to distinguish a feature of the face, but what was not hidden by clothing was too dark for her to discern .

"Under the cloth I am  hiding my heart that was born out of my body since birth," he said, and although his voice was calm, fear was becoming more obvious to the ears of the Princess.

"If you want to see me as I really am, you will need to hold my heart in your hands and bring it close to my face."

The thought of it did not disgust he princess. A quick little smile crept on her face. Trully, the pain would end. The truth in his voice was most obvious. The prince was afraid to give his heart, thats why he was reluctant to ever show his real face. And he was afraid to show his real face, because that would mean giving his heart.

The woman smiled again, with the warmest smile that could be found in the world and with a few words took the fear out of it.

"I will  be watching and guarding your heart as a sacred body. You came tonight to meet me. I now come to offer you my heart. Even if you cannot  keep it in your hands. I love you. "

He pushed her fingers and lifted the cloth. A golden heart appeared, emitting light surrounding it. Without hesitation, she  took it in her hands and brought it close to his face.

The heart lit up his face nd happiness filled the woman. She grabbed him and kissed him happily with all her might. Just when she llet him take a breath, he tookher in her arms.

"I love you," he said, tears tremblig in his voice.
 "I promise to look after your heart more than my own. Thank you, "said the man.

The woman could now clearly see the landscape around her. Listening to the river water, the rustling of leaves and the voices of birds/ It was nighti,e, but all was now clear to her eyes and ears. Raindrops hit their faces. They started running as heavy rain started falling.

They spent several years hiding from the world, lost in their happiness, absorbed in each other. 

The little fairy who first arranged their meeting was present at the births of all their children and blessed them as she did with their parents. People called them "The purple Princess and the Prince with the100 faces '. The princess held the heart of her husband with her forever, hanging in a pouch with a chain around her neck. And every time he came close to her, his heart shed light to his face. And every time she saw his face, she loved him een more.

And at the end of their days, the  Princess and the  Prince squeezed firmly the golden heart and broke it in twoi. White glow enveloped them and took them from this world, sending them to heaven. Since then, the purple and gold star, are eternally rotating around each other,  sending us their heavenly light all over the world.

Σάββατο 5 Οκτωβρίου 2013

How To Stay In Love For Ever

Love never dies.
We murder it.
With our own bare hands.

We kill love by killing Affection, Sexual Desire,Communication

And those three never die of a natural cause, boredom or circircumstances, contrary to popular belief.

Love can last for ever.
So long as those three stay alive:
Affection, Sexual Desire,Communication

If those three are going srtrong, love flourishes.
It even becomes stronger with each passing day.
Stronger, deeper and more satisfying.
Even its actual components become stronger.

Affection gets stronger.
Communication gets more meaningful.
Yes,even  Sexual Desire gets stronger too.

How do you do that?


Keep each one of the components of love alive and thriving
then love thrives and gets stronger too.

How do you keep the three elements of love alive?

-You keep Affection alive: 
by biting back cruel, harsh words that stay in memory for ever, 
by simple gestures of kindness and thoughtfulness towards each other
by guarding fiercely each other against the cruelty of other people, offering sympathy and understanding against everyday troubles and mishaps, offering a united front to the world
and by doing those things every single day of your common life together!

-You keep Sexual Desire strong: 
by deliberately finding time to make love
by making it a point to sexually please your lover
and by being physically affectionate and tender with them even in
non-sexual contexts, eyes, hands, voices and breaths always caressing each other
and by doing those things every single day of your common life together!

-You keep Communication meaningful:
by being open and vulnerable enough to share your deepest thoughts and desires with each other
by learning to listen with compassion and understanding
and by risking talking even about things that feel uncomfortable, risky or complicated
and by doing those things every single day of your common life together!

Τoo much work?
But of course.
Thats why most people fail at it.
Because it requires conscious, everyday effort.

But letting it go is even worse.
It means drifting from meaningless relationship to meaningless fuck without ever getting to enjoy, grow and fourish in love.

Love can last for ever.

So long as
we do not murder it 
with our very own bare hands.

Τρίτη 24 Σεπτεμβρίου 2013

How to be a fountain of inspiration by reading hundreds of blogs a day

I read hundreds of blogs and articles a day.

I mean it . Literally. No exaggeration.

Like most avid readers, I thoroughly enjoy reading.

But the fact is, there are simply not enough free hours in a day for all the reading I would love to be doing.

So I have improvised a method of my own to satisfy my craving for reading and learning:

I call it 'Creative Skimming' and maybe you do it too.

Here is the thing with normal  books:

Once you commit to one, it's pretty dang difficult to change minds!
Even if you had browsed through it and found it interesting at first, it might turn out a complete disappointment once you commit to reading it.

And then, you either finish it anyway and say ''nah, what a waste of time'' or read half way through it and then toss it aside and its yet another half finished business that weighs on your conscience ( 'you didnt even finished so-and-so book, remember?' says the little voice in your head).

I have news for ya,my friend:

You have permission NOT to finish books you dont like.

Or not start them at all.

Boring books can be, well, utterly boring and a total waste of your  prescious brain breath.

Not so with online books, articles or blogs or whatever.

You skim through them.
You dont like them? 
Off we go to the next one...
You do like  one in particular?
 You can go over it several times if you wish or take it up from there and read up more on the subject or the writer herself/himself.

I browse thousants of blogs and articles online everyday.

In fact you could say it's my favorite pastime.

 Since I never watch TV, I get all my news online, but it's much much more than that. 
Inspiration, litterature, the weird and paranormal, the holy and the sexy, the scientific and the holistic, thetribal and the trivial, the poetic and the absurd, they are all within a days reading list.

I 'd usually skim through a text in a matter of nanoseconds.
If it captures my imagination or my intuition nodds, I'd go through it real quick and catch the gist. occasionally a paragraph might catch my eye, then I'd pore through it hungrily.

Occasionally a writer might be so good, that it will stop me on my tracks and compel me to read the entire damn thing. When this happens , we have a facebook quote on my wall that I instinctively match with a corresponding picture of my vast collection.

Sometimes I become so enamored with a text and writer that I might not sleep through the night , avidly going through every single thing they've ever written, collecting gem after gem of magical thought that I either write down in my special inspiration notebook or post on facebook or keep in my notes section on my blog.

Usually this means that the writer and me are a good vibrational match, our energies are alike, so I like the outpouring of their creativity as well. I try to find and stalk those people on facebook too, because their heart and mind seems like an interesting place to further explore .

More often than not, however, I skip article after article after blogpost after ebook of tedious, boring stuff that leaves me unimpressed and uninspired. 

But this too serves as a reminder: I keep telling myself that unless what I write is powerful and authentic, it is doomed to never capture anyone's heart or imagination.

This is my Creative Skimming fun way of going through hundreds of blogs a day. 

And it ever takes up much less of my time than  normal book or article reading would. 

And it's loads and loads of fun.

One last suggestion, to up the fun and enjoyment you get out of  it all:
Try unusual word combination in google search

The more unlikely the combination, the more interesting the resulting reading ensued. Like ''lustful religion'' or ''glittering universe'' or conscious accident''.

Got the idea?

Now go have some fun of your own!