Sundays with you are ….so…beyond the words

Have you seen a purple oxalis before?

It is called also the purple shamrock or poetically a kaleidoscope of purple butterflies. I call it my little rock and lady full of surprises. She is always back on her feet, thriving at short notice just days after I thought I am loosing her. I love my little oxalis.

Note: finding still some difficulty to use my own photos stock on Substack - is true, sorry -so luckily we can find their own platform stocks which are even more impressive. Thanks Anna Kumpan wherever you are.

Photo by Anna Kumpan on Unsplash

Before we sit fully engaged and have our little coffee together I would like to get few words our about Substack and how it works for the readers.

I included some readers initially by personal emails sent our directly when my first post was published. I will still continue to send occasionally emails out to my friends however I also do not want to impose on anyone to read them weekly. The easiest way to follow these letters is to click the button “Subscribe” embedded also from time to time as a sweet reminder in each post.

Some further offerings will follow later on while honing my skills or expressing my superpowers in public (oh dear!). For the time being we have these Sunday morning letters and my deep deep thoughts and love I share for connecting with people from such a raw space. Substack is the platform that motivates me to write while keeping a simple framework around things. (Although I still need some basic training, I do love the inspiration I get just by being here. )There is the platform and there is the flow of things that beautifully coexist.

The button time = Action time:

Hello hello, on this gorgeous morning with the most stunning sunrise.Is summer again. In November.

My oxalis fully recovered and thrived this week. Birthing a million of new stems and bouncing back like no other. She is tiny,fragile, getting really easily bruised ( no, she does not have a thick skin this one) and does worry me sometimes that I might loose her. Yet, I wake up one morning and notice she is fully back and waving hello at me with ten more tiny little shoots coming out feistily and eagerly for the sun.

“Well, hello. I am back!”

Next day she will add another ten and then they grow and there she is blooming. I know you will understand well where I am going on with this story.

Detour…….

I have a very good friend in town for a couple of weeks and luckily we find time to bring back so many memories but also to fill the gap with new ones as she has left this big city before the pandemic and moved to another big city… in fact. We took our mental /heart notes out and started comparing them.A lot of stories to recall and compare during a very very challenging time for everyone. From 2019 till now… abominable and unknown and rules and regulations and travel bans and quarantine.Some things along the line.

The very exercise of talking out loud about too many events to even capture them properly got me reflecting a bit more on one particular phase -the 3 weeks mandatory quarantine when returning from overseas travels. I have experienced it twice. And I still get a lot of questions and interest from friends “ but how did you do it” “how was it” “I could never do it” …. It does trigger many many reactions and curiosity. I am not trying to be a hero of anything - these are the real questions asked for so many. And equally many many people could not travel for could years to see their families exactly because of this reason.

The reflection really brought many aspects to life and one of them being that whatever it was - hard, non-sense, not so hard at the end, fun, full of surprises, same same but different day, anxious, nightmares, skylights ,the kites, the routine, the street cleaners, the rooftops, the knocks on the door, the tests (uhgrrrr) …. All that and much more - is history. Is very recent history but is also the past. It is gone. Thanks heavens.

There were many phases of experiencing this. There are also many memories that stayed with me because of so much support present at every level. When you open really your eyes to see….there is so much support.

Getting quickly through some of these phases:

• Booking the very first trip overseas ….the first nightmare, check the airlines, check the prices, check the hotel, change the booking, change the ticket, change the booking with the hotel, emails after emails, find a hotel in itself it was daunting - no calls, only emails ,some unanswered even today. I was almost of the brink of giving up and here I have cudos for two of my colleagues- one of them even said to me in a very clear voice, quite imposing and looking straight into my eyes “ You will go! You want to see your family and you will go” It was really as simple as that ,yet after days of trying to get through the multiple processes and websites and emails you could easily imagine my lamenting every day. She did listen and she also did encourage. And stopped my lamenting! …. Lol….It was all we were talking about….

• Once you are on the trip…. You think you are so prepared. You have a little folder where you keep all records, vaccinations, hotel bookings etc…. And then you land back home… the perfect reflection of the unknown. The wall signage was saying something, the people were queuing up in a different way, the airport staff trying their best to make sense of something that even themselves did not have time to figure it out, and here we were coming from rules with 1,5m apart in a cue, to 100 people in a small square trying to get a stamp on some arrival paper -with no use. That was fun. Not. Yet yet yet ….it really was just a glitch. Coming out of the airport and breathing the crips fresh air in - was a big big thing. ….

• Awkward moments in between- did not kiss or hug closely my family that trip. Trying to be mindful and protect each other. We will touch hands or give little pats on the shoulder or air kisses. Well - they work too. It felt like a big victory to be home and be together.

• Coming back to my second home and facing the inevitable- while secretly praying that these rules will disappear by the time I would return. They stayed in place few more years you see. All was surrounded by fear. The airports ,the planes, the masks, the look we gave our neighbour who dared to cough or blow his/hers nose. Our minds had so many questions at all times and warning signs and so much alertness- do not touch, clean your hands, that and that and that. Suddenly in the cue for check in at the gate - I meet one of my friends. I really do not know how this things happen - they are the most amazing moments- you just feel how all this accumulated tension fades away. A smile is brought back on your face, you are in it with someone else.Someone who you know. It was suddenly not so dreading any more….right?

• The quarantine - well, bear with me. I spent twice three weeks in the same hotel. Some stories and timelines might get blurred. The memories that stayed with me today do reflect the same messages though. It is better in a way I get to capture them here - although I bet I have few journals somewhere too. Journaling is good for your soul - they say. It was - it was it was indeed so good for my soul then too.

• The view. Luckily. Eternally grateful. The first anchor in this completely new territory was the view. You could measure how the day will go by the skylight, the fog, the drizzle etc. The highlight of my days was a pair of kites flying together in circles, spirals, plunging and rising again. Even if I had a photo they would be to small to be noticed from afar. They were there every day. And that for me was magic - as simple at that. It did not matter how the day went - I would get a glimpse of the kites and I knew all is well.

• The knock. This my friend is a big anchor and hug from the universe and such a big topic .I could remember thousands instances when this very knock at the door made me so happy. We turn on the Pavlovian reflex just there. We create our mini science lesson. Everything was depending on the knock at the door. In a nutshell- deliveries from outside semi-free city were allowed via the hotel’s reception. Or of course - the meals were equally delivered the same way. So,we had his little chair outside the door where the receptionist will place the package and knock at the door to let you know “ You’ve got a delivery” - there were no words spoken for this purpose. (Only when they were coming for swabs and tests -there were a lot of announcements, sometimes quite loud). For this purpose- it was a very discrete knock on the door. Brilliant. It made my heart flutter with excitement. Sometimes it would by my own order, sometimes ….and many many many very many times - would by my circle. My friends. The sense of solidarity born then it is simply unforgettable. Close friends or not so close friends got more worried than me even about the entire quarantine concept. I was asked so many times a day how I am doing. Messages will pour in. Calls will pour in. And one of the message on repeat was :” please give me your details, I want to send you something” . Oh…yeah thanks. I did put on weight on both occasions.

• From dread to thriving….The very first week was not nice.I do remember well. I spent by first 2 days cleaning everything in the room. Just to be safe. Embalmed in chlorine smells and all. It was really all the panic in our head most of the time. The room itself was reasonable. Among deliveries though - I got …an air purifier and a stunning orchid. Huge huge orchid - my friends rushed in with both practical and beautiful gifts. Then of course ,I had the meatballs delivery- another friend loved I am obsessed with meatballs. She likes to cook them with garlic and I had a small fridge and it all blended all together in a 24 sqm room - garlicky and “chloriny” for a while, you know. This is not a complain. Not at all. It is what it is.

• The gift of giving….and here I was overwhelmed. I stood most of life on the side of”giving” … and I am sure you know that it can be overwhelming to receive. I have received so much in literal terms. And so much care. It is still mind blowing to me as I write. I would make one time a list…. The knocks at the door were pouring in. I did have a moment on a very quiet Sunday… Sundays were a bit slow in general for everything and a bit sad I guess.So that day, I think it was just shy of 10 pm when I heard the knock.I even thought it wasn’t my door -as already so late. Yet, a little glimpse through the crack of the door and there it was -a big white bag.For me. Someone was here for me.That Sunday too. I got apple juice (that weirdly was on my mind all day), I got flowers and I got even a vase! …and something else for sure..a miraculous delivery from Japan Home from my dear friends wondering the area and thinking again and again of me… Tears flooded my eyes and my heart stopped in tracks for a moment. I relive the same feeling right now. With tears and all. I have lived such moments ten thousands times during my quarantines.Expected and unexpected gestures from caring people. I do remember a Friday when I built up a wall of Volvic water as I told all my friends I have enough food and just water will do it. So I got around 16 bottles or so…..Hydration was covered-too.Allright.

• Fear first. Of the unknown. A pat on the shoulder second. Tension released. Anchors throughout the day or night. The kites, the street signages lit up , the knocks on the door, the flowers with the vase, the meatballs and the cakes, the turkish coffee( my stable ritual), the hellos, the messages, the tests…oh I am healthy thanks god… the AMR ( “a mai ramas”…. Days Count down)…… and then the big release. “You are free to go” - the call with the instructions. I did call my friend and asked her gently to pick me up as I am not sure I can handle a taxi in the morning. I felt I forgot what do on my own again in the big city. At the release,I felt lost entirely. It took me few weeks to kind of recover and the after-math was much different than the quarantine itself.The impact was much stronger you see…. Of course you see..I am telling it over and over again here for you. Feeling even if only for 3 weeks that you have no choice. The walls are just these. And your freedom is strictly monitored and limited and all of that. It is an experience that does tricks to be honest to our minds. The journals as I said have far more details ……..Yet, no matter what the tricks were, you return to the anchor. Talking to the orchid. Talking to the oxalis. Thrive again. …..

• Where were we? ……. Do not forget the button ….. or Benjamin Button ….

Thank you….in tears. Solidarity is real .