The Deepest Truth

How could it happen; how could it be?
The fact that you breathe, the sound of your heart,
beating…
The warmth of your skin and the touch of your palms…
Just a memory of that
keeps me unsettled.
How could it happen?
How could it be?

Whether you were born
out of the mist during the last descending moon,
just yesterday,
or a thousand years ago in the lava of an untamed volcano
together with my immortal soul,
I love you more
than I can, than anyone can, easily comprehend.
Whether you were born
yesterday or a thousand years ago.

You are the deepest truth,
the secret behind all of the secrets,
the reason behind my whole existence,
weeping, shielding, whispering in the dark…
The pain behind all of the pains
and the joy I could never let go.
’cause you
are the deepest truth.

The Positive Diary #11 – Grandmas and wine

16th November 2018Work weeks can be harsh. Especially when you have to go against your natural biorhythm in order to secure yourself an extra free Friday. I am a born night owl and therefore waking up at 5 A.M. means basically that I have to wake up at the same time I would prefer to go to bed instead. Thus, the first half of a week doesn’t work well for me – I am basically too tired to do anything – to study, to write, to create, even just to post on Instagram. I usually only focus on surviving these hours between the time I wake up and the time I jump back into my bed. It feels like a complete waste of time and it makes me feel distorted, useless and lost.

And then, the Friday comes.

Fridays are usually these only cheat days on which I let myself rest for a while. For example, I usually hate when I spend too much time on social media or when I watch a TV show the entire day but on Fridays, I try not to freak out about it so much if it happens. But luckily, today wasn’t that day.

I slept a great amount of time, just to wake up refreshed and happy, surrounded by my two chihuahuas. I made myself a healthy, nutritious and yummy breakfast and then I took a wonderful autumn walk through our two lovely villages in order to take a train. I wanted to visit my grandma after somewhat long time and enjoy the time and chat with her. I guess, when you have the coolest grandma, living in the most magical house with the most beautiful enchanted garden, there is no other place and no other person with whom you would rather spent your time and caught your breath.

I am so grateful for having such a charming and tough lady for a grandma. We always talk some old and well discussed stories through once again and I eat disturbingly too much of a cake she baked for us. And once we open a bottle of wine, I always learn something very new from my grandma’s youth. I couldn’t be more excited and fascinated by her stories! I listen with a great smile on my face and once again, I wish to borrow a Tardis from the Doctor so I could pick up my mum and my grandma when they were both seventeen and take them to party to Woodstock. That would have been something!

I am currently reading a book called Women Who Run the Wolves and I believe it is one of the main factors behind the great change of my attitude towards my feminine side. I also believe this change made me to see today my grandma not only as a caring energetic old lady, or a mother who lost her child, but also as a young rebellious girl and a grown-up self-confident young woman who isn’t afraid of anything. This mighty picture of my grandma gives me a pride stronger then ever that I, right me and no one else, am a granddaughter of hers. I am the one who bares the light and the resilience of women from our family towards the future.

While thinking about the life of my grandma, I always felt I wanted to be just like her. And I always wanted to be just like my mum, too. Now, when I’m older and I have a very different perspective than I used to have when I was fifteen, I can see that despite their quarrels and disputes, my mum and my grandma weren’t that different as it might have seemed in the past.

So, today I just wanted to express how grateful I am for being a successor of a feminine power in our family. I will hope I will manage to recall this pride and this feeling of belonging once the dark days come to me once again.

How do you honor your elders? Do you like to listen to their stories? Do you, too, imagine what a life must have been like when they were at your age?

Let me know and enjoy your weekend!

With love

Wicked And Clever

Šárka