The Cure

DSCN5720The autumn was grey and winter even more somber and long. The emotional spleen and small medical interventions caused major pain and “my small remedies” brought major frustration instead of awaited help. The meditative voice of Guy Corneau made me think about his early death instead of healing prospect and calm intercourse of my GP made me doubt the western medicine once again. I started to look into essential oils. I  called several acupuncturists and tried to fix the appointments with specialists. I had the impression I had to be doing something not that I hoped to find miraculous treatment. It seemed that my health sucked again. Meanwhile my professional life went on standby and my emotions took me for a one way trip on the roller coaster called Terribleland. Yes, I know the theory – look objectively on what does not work, change what you can change and let go of the rest. Easier said than done. Continue reading


The pain took over and there are no words that can ease the suffering…one day maybe the strength comes back and maybe not. Over the three years the writing helped me to continue. To say what I never managed to say out loud. Some things and circumstances changed and some have not changed at all. Maybe the latter made me silent and so be it. There is out there something and somebody that provides the content that cannot be found here. Life roads are mysterious… Continue reading

About sunglasses, growing up and religion.


In the car:

I am looking in the rear mirror and I see my son who has grown again. I still picture his traits back then when he was little, now he is a young man – almost. He does not show a lot of enthusiasm – we are off to buy sunglasses. He hates sunglasses and he hates shopping. He has been changing a lot recently – boredom, hanging around not knowing what to do or video games playing when he does not know when to stop. Constant argumentation (God, now I understand my parents – I was a pain.), witty responses, the vivid mimics I love so much – they show so well how the person feels are a part of his daily interaction. Continue reading

The Book of Life

CSC_0792I was walking fast as if I was in a hurry with a book that I found. It was in the shape of heart, it could fit my palm, the borders of pages were silver and on the cover was a small cross. I entered a huge cathedral with a smell characteristic of old churches – mixture of moist walls with dust and cold air. I lifted a heavy curtain to enter the nave looking for somebody to hand over the book so it could be kept in a safe place but there was nobody. Continue reading