Tag: communication

I had quite an emotionally tough weekend. I’m still taking care of my mind – with mixed results. Although I must admit, there’s a lot of euphoria in me. On Friday, a few unpleasant situations happened, and on top of that – damn it! – I started feeling nostalgic.

I started missing the deep, sexy voice and stormy eyes – which sometimes are like the sky. I probably should have written to my friend, something on a card – I know, I know – but I couldn’t hold back and sent a “bitter” message. Of course – I stepped into the ring and got hit hard.

I’m not writing about this without reason. I dedicated the whole weekend to “mental recovery.” Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time on myself. I’m trying to understand where my various, often harmful, beliefs come from.

During yesterday’s session — incredibly exhausting — a lot came out of me. I felt drained all day. And you know what? I felt at peace with myself (though it’s a constant mental check), and with the situation that had been troubling me for months, I found out in the evening that we both feel abandoned.

I admit — it relieved me a bit, but you know what is the worst for me in this situation?!? The worst thing is the lack of action, communication, just — giving up. Although that’s probably also a very strong message, right?!

Can something beautiful happen between two people without communication, effort for the other person, or the willingness to understand their perspective?? Maybe I’m aging at a rapid pace, but — in my understanding — these are precisely the foundations of something good.

Besides the worn-out, yet obvious clichés like trust, love, respect. And at first, my heart beat stronger, but soon after, I quickly realized it makes no sense if we cannot communicate, condemning ourselves to sadness.

Such a pity.

Alright, I need to take meticulous care of myself so that the silent — though actually squealing — stagnation doesn’t consume me again.

For now, I’ve started creating simple reels — and I’m really excited about it, because I’ve never been into these kinds of activities before.

Tomorrow I’m going to a trade fair in Łódź, and that excites me too.

I’m thinking that even though old paths seem well-worn, safe, and “cozy,” sometimes you have to push yourself and go in a completely new direction.

One that will allow you to grow and experience something much more beautiful than we currently think we can have.

Alright, enough of these wise thoughts — I’m off to take the Youth to school and to the humble stable.

Have a fantastic day!

I absolutely adore late summer!
I wonder if growing older (or maturing, to put it nicely) changes our favorite seasons. But anyway—that’s not what I wanted to talk about today.

Something truly lovely happened to me. After successfully sorting out some incredibly important matters (for me, at least), I was leaving the SSC (a big shopping center), and as I stepped into the revolving doors, I ran into a well-groomed, older, elegant lady. She looked me over a bit suspiciously and then blurted out:
“First place goes to the beautiful lady.”
I was so caught off guard I only managed to shoot back:
“And right beside me on the podium—stands you.”
She smiled and walked away. So did I.

In my grubby jodhpurs, the ones Bon wiped her nose on. With her lovely-scented fur still clinging to my shirt and my worn-out riding boots flapping around.
By the way—I’m convinced those boots are the reason I can’t gallop properly. It’s 100% them. Obviously.

Next week, I’m heading to a trade fair in Łódź—can’t wait to sniff around, browse, and pick out the most wonderful, most beautiful, and comfiest fabrics for you, all stamped with my logo and a kiss from Bon.
It’s honestly hard to believe that in just three years I went from total nihilism to this barely-containable euphoria.
Bliss.

P.S. Lately I’ve been dreaming about the “Machiavellian Man from the Past.”
I guess these are the leftovers the brain throws out—like crab shells on a beach. Maybe.
But I’m here, now. And I really like it.
I’m learning that it’s worth it. Ugh—so sentimental—but I’m learning, and my brain is exploding from constantly stepping out of my comfort zone.

Alright—enough. The wild roses in my garden smell way too divine to think straight. They bring back memories of our sea and that row of roses lining the path to some—I can’t remember which—coastal town.
All charm and beauty, inviting you to a wild beach somewhere out there.

As you can see—I’m off searching for tiles for imaginary Portuguese townhouses, so I’ll leave it at that for today.