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Tag: personal-growth
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september that suddenly turned into November…
The fair was… surprisingly small. However, I managed to make three great contacts — so it was worth the trip.
During a fashion show, I was watching with interest two women in their sixties, looking stunning in somewhat exaggerated outfits and large glasses — one of them had long, gray braids. Divine!
I couldn’t help myself, I approached and told them they fascinated me. They politely thanked me and with a smile added: “We like to be seen.” Absolutely amazing, Polish wonders!
I chose sample colors for the vests — I’m very curious about the reception. I went for muted green and a mix of plum with a touch of red, smoky wine.
I wish I already had one on. But, but — those ladies’ words keep ringing in my head. I’m currently working on that too — to be. Or rather: to not be afraid to be seen.
I’ll tell you, it nicely flatters my vanity. A little. -
september 10, 2024
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!
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september 4th
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.
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Good very morning. I love mornings on the Ranch!
The boys ran early through the forest, and I managed to prune my favorite wild roses, whose scent I adore. The lady at the garden center revealed a secret to me — if you prune them after each bloom, they’ll flower again. So all my roses bloom almost nonstop. You know, I once had a doll, like a hundred thousand years ago, called a “baby doll.” I got it from my aunt in West Germany. You won’t believe it, but the rubber head really smelled like wild roses for a long time. Maybe that’s why I love my ranch wild ones so much.
Yesterday, I visited Bon. The temperatures are tough on both of us… uh… mixed. The young one scans me every time — sniffing if I hid anything she might eat. I think I spoiled her a lot. What can I do? My whole herd is just so spoiled, hungry, and loved. What fascinates me the most — always — is their diverse personalities. I absolutely adore each one — each differently. I mentioned before the idea of glorification. It was about Bon, who saved me. I long thought about how to repay her — besides the obvious pampering — until a tragic SMS from a friend told me about the death of his close friend. Depression. Suicide. I thought then, that this is exactly it. Maybe someone will read it, try it. I wish to give Bon immortality. I love being with her, feeling her scent.
In winter, I come back from the stable totally frozen. I sit there like an embryo in the shower, pouring hot water over myself. I’m just always cold. Always have been. So I thought, considering these two aspects, maybe I could create something and… I started designing riding clothes based on my own needs. The sweatshirt has a scarf (a neck warmer) and a hood. It’s made of premium high-quality cotton. It also has zippered pockets — so my snacks won’t fly out. I absolutely love it! Every detail of this project excites me, drives me, sometimes moves me — especially when I write about my personal, difficult experiences. The whole thing is so coherent in my head. One thing leads to another. Everything connected by such different emotions — from extreme breakdowns that pushed me to create. First for myself, to get out of that mess, to forget about the overwhelming helplessness and, luckily, the apparent senselessness of this world, this life.
Those fears are necessary. They help us look at ourselves, get to know ourselves. They’re needed so that — after long, sometimes difficult work — we can find the feelings on the other side: peace, a sense of safety, and finally passion, fascination with life rediscovered — also thanks to the help of others. I wish my clothes would show this entire experience, or rather — its crowning with passion, ecstasy, feelings of closeness and simply love. Oh wow… I got carried away again. Maybe it’s because I’m touching different fabric samples, testing socks, choosing colors — and today the color samples for the vests are supposed to arrive. I love picking colors. It’s like interiors — a little flair to perfect the vision.
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August 2024
Good morning! I’m so excited! A few days ago, Bon and I went out — a walk in the field. For an hour and a half, we wandered through forests and fields — magical! My mind is healing — despite a rough night last night. It’s an incredible feeling to come back to yourself. Some time ago — quite seriously ;) — I wrote about the meaning of the word tribute. After such a long prelude, I think I can finally mention who I want to pay tribute to with my (not only) writing — and actually, who I want to keep honoring continuously. Very consistently. Especially because I owe her my life. I couldn’t care less about Polish pathos. I thought long and hard about how to approach this without unnecessary exaggeration, avoiding any mannerisms.
Bon — because she is the one standing on that pedestal — is the most wonderful story in my life, after the “blue-eyed girl with a beautiful soul.” For various reasons, too. Besides that, she teaches me constantly. At every meeting. She surprises me. She moves me when she recognizes my voice and greets me. After nearly sixteen years of interior design — which came from a huge passion for creating and shaping — I’m done. Just plain done. Absolutely not with creativity! I live from imagination, I love to see the world differently. But it seems that this “different” isn’t always understood. Somehow, my biggest motivation — to show a mission-driven approach to this work, that it can be done differently — began to disappear, until it was completely lost.
There’s no point in doing something that stops exciting you. Life’s tough dramas made me make a decision that allowed me to breathe, to catch new energy — and my motivation became Bona herself. It felt like it took forever — trying to find myself. A split personality — wanting something else, but having to keep going the old way for obvious reasons. A vicious circle. Stepping out of the pattern, out of the comfortable chair you got stuck in — where you feel safe, but only seemingly — is hard. Hard doesn’t mean impossible. I think this transition was shown very vividly in a short film made in my studio at the time. I really wanted Pluszowa to appear in it. We filmed it a few years ago — maybe three. I think back then, subconsciously, I already felt I needed a different career path ;) Bona stood in the office, ending the film episode — though probably not only that.
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Good morning, still very July-like,
I had a “crash” two days ago. I’ll quietly admit — I forgot about my pharmacy visit for two days. Really, I just forgot. My trip to get my meds was a cruel journey — not to mention the mental torment, torn by guilt, but also the physical aspect of dealing with the lack of chemistry in my head. Ringing in my ears, dizziness. Of course, I can only write about myself and my experiences — and while I think I have some control over the Demons, my body, having been in survival mode for so long, is now throwing various things at me. There are days — one or two a week — when I have absolutely no strength for anything. Physically. I can’t get off the couch. I do the necessary, essential tasks but totally without energy. Once, this was terrifying to me — how can I waste the day so stupidly when there’s so much to do at home, in the garden, etc.? Today, I surrender to it.
I’m learning to listen to the body that wraps the divine mind, on which so much depends. It can make you your best friend or your worst enemy. One that’s obsessed, crushing itself. Exceptionally self-destructive. Okay, enough — despite everything, the learning process is (in my opinion) the most beautiful life process. Getting to know yourself is important, but the attempt to face your own fears, limitations, and finally change the beliefs that restrict your growth — that’s one hell of a ride! -
June – the end
Once my favorite month – June – maybe because of my birthday. You know, recently I was counting to make sure I really am as old as I am – and yes, that’s correct. I don’t want it to be any different. A bit of a pity. A pity, but probably only because of my energy levels. Yesterday at training, my whole body hurt as if it was screaming: “Re laaaxxxxx…!” For a moment, I thought about getting off the saddle, but in the end, we did yielding in walk – considering the movements with Plushie, we invented a gait before the walk :)) – it was exceptionally hard. Trotting was better. Training done, always “a little” progress.
By the way – I’ve been wondering since yesterday what it really means to do something “in tribute” – what does it really mean, beyond the obvious definition you’d find on Wikipedia:
“Homage (Latin: homagium) – a ceremony of solemn feudal contract. During it, homage was paid: the vassal would kneel before their lord and solemnly swear loyalty, promising to assist the lord in counsel (consilium) and to offer military aid (auxilium). Then came investiture, the formal granting of the fief to the vassal.”In common understanding, paying tribute means nothing less or more than an expression of respect, recognition, devotion, and honor. Well.
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june 12, 2024
The overwhelming Monster gave me a break, incapacitated by the chemicals whose doses we are steadily reducing with the doctor. Yesterday, I literally witnessed a comedy at the criminal department of the police. It just struck me – I had never really looked closely at our emblem before. In nature, does an eagle really have its claws spread as wide as on the emblem? … I feel closer to animals than to people. Without a shadow of doubt.
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good morning!
Since morning I’ve been pondering a question — actually, a mistake! — for several weeks now. What do you think about giving a second chance?
In horsemanship (as I see it), these are just ‘chances’ — given to me by Her Majesty. Gosh… what a patient horse! I guess it’s similar with oneself — for as long as I remember, I give myself chances. Over and over, again and again, starting anew, and so on.
But that intoxicating question concerns another person. It’s kind of like voluntarily handing over a loaded gun, aimed straight at your head, awaiting the verdict. On the other hand — supposedly everyone deserves that chance. I really don’t know. I’m curious about your opinions.
When I think about my last few years, my life somewhat resembles one of Woody Allen’s comedies, whom I adore!
Goshhhh… how I wish I looked like Penélope Cruz in To Rome with Love (Woody Allen, 2012)!
Alright, I’m off for a ride! 🚀
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may 6, 2024
Sometimes I wonder how it happens – and this affects me every year – that I always miss the phase from the moment delicate leaves first appear on the trees until they majestically sway in the wind. I think I experience something similar with people. It turns out that I often miss the human phase: from warmth to parasitic, like mistletoe, sucking – in my case – energy. People are pleasant, but how genuine are they really?!…
You know what, some time ago – speaking of “revealed truth” – I had the pleasure to participate in an emotionally exhausting yet incredibly vivid meeting that prompted me to take actions, majestically ;) just as I am doing now. I mean the meeting with the wonderful Karolina and the awe-inspiring, huge (literally!) Raban from Horse Spirit.
I wanted to get to know myself better, to understand the various fears I saw, and to discover what keeps me constantly and unchangingly in one place, despite believing that I can do more, be more attentive. That I can change. It was supposed to be a starting point to shed the beliefs I had carried for years, which I finally discovered—like Columbus perhaps discovering “his” America. I wonder whose surprise was greater.
Although I live through imagination and tried to prepare for this meeting by reading about it, I had no idea how deeply those nearly three hours spent with the “hosts” would affect me. I don’t recall ever having such a perfect teacher before… myself.
A beautiful “toned boy,” consistently taking his nightly pills to cope with life—me. In an indescribable way, surprisingly responsive to my slightest inner tremors. At every doubt in my mind, the tightness in my stomach, at the decision: “keep going?”—he would pause, trying to pinch me, as if asking:
“So, what, do you want to keep going? Because I don’t feel like you do.”
“Incredibly close, as if connected to my body and mind — outstanding.”
You know what touched me the most? I think I saw strength in him. An attempt to take care of me. Something like a sense of security — the kind of “hysterics” I’ve needed most for a long time. The strength of Raban, his confidence, assertiveness — made me realize that I too can be like that. Not necessarily relying on my usual pattern of the “strong woman,” who has long been dragging everything alone on her aching lower back.
Good, right?! It’s fantastic how perfectly one can be in symbiosis with horses. They respond to every tension, every hesitation — which I relentlessly try to understand from the saddle, wanting to communicate with “Her Highness” ;)