Today I read the news about Buddhist monks walking for peace. One of them, a calm, disciplined, deeply devoted leader, reached his physical limits. His body slowed him down. He moved to the back of the group. He needed medical care, IV fluids, antibiotics, rest, monitoring, support. Not because he is weak. Not because he lacks discipline and because his intention isn’t pure... None of those stories. The reason is that even the most dedicated, peaceful, conscious beings have limits...  And the message in that was simple and honest: sometimes peace is not about pushing harder, it may be about slowing down, listening, and choosing care.

.... choosing care....  sounds simple, right? Not forcing the body, not overriding the system, not proving strength, not performing resilience... choosing CARE for yourself.  Just stopping when it’s time to stop.

That story landed in my body in a very personal way. Because I am in exactly that kind of phase....  existential one I would say. A deep pause of movement, of projection, of emotional momentum, of attachment, of orbit, of analysis, of waiting, of hoping...

Yesterday, something triggered me. It was just an image. Someone’s post. It could be just a memory. But that image showed me a symbol of a life I no longer belong to. My first reaction was emotional and very human. It was automatic. Instead of doing something about it, I sat with it. I breathed through it and through tears. I processed my story again of when I was the one who was not chosen, where that girl inside of me will never be chosen. I told myself: maybe the picture was old, maybe it’s from the past, maybe it’s just a memory... however, the energy of that state is very much alive today. And I let the feeling settle. I thought it was gone... no, it was waiting quietly....  Today for some reason, I went back and looked... again... there were other images... about the same meaning though. and reality answered me VERY clearly. Yes, emotionally, of course! But there were no more symbols, no more mysticism. Clarity came structurally. What I saw wasn’t a memory, it wasn’t nostalgia, it wasn’t the past. In fact - it was presence. Now. Consciousness. Conscious presence... showing publicly... 

And in that clarity, something very simple became obvious to me: some people don’t walk through transformation. They simply observe it, they analyze it, they wordsmith it, they talk about it. Some people don’t ever enter the storm, because they'd rather measure the wind. Some people don’t cross thresholds, because they’d rather analyze the temperature of the air. Some people don’t live the day, because they’d rather stand inside structure and interpret the day. They are not in the movement… they are WATCHING the movement. And there is nothing wrong with that. It’s a choice. A structure. A way of living. A form of safety. A relationship with reality. Not everyone is built for rupture. Not every life is designed for collapse. Not every soul chooses disintegration as a path of renewal. Some choose continuity. Stability. Form. Repetition. Structure. Tradition. Predictability. And that is ALL valid.

What changed for me is not my judgment of that, but my relationship to it.

Earlier in a week, I had a dream. I think it was preparing me for these events. I had a dream where I knew, with absolute certainty, that everything had changed. There was a clear inner knowing that what existed before was over and would never return. Nothing was dramatic or explosive, just final. What the new reality would look like was completely unclear. It felt like being in a foreign country where I had parked my car somewhere and couldn’t remember where. I knew I had arrived, but I had no idea how to move forward. I was inside an unfamiliar building. The space felt strange and disorienting, but there were people there I recognized: a man I had been emotionally connected to, a woman with him, and a woman I knew from my other events. The man was visibly nervous and angry. I could feel his fear underneath the anger, and I sensed that he wanted to tell me something important. He looked at me and asked, “Are you ready to hear THIS?” I couldn’t take it. I left the room before he could say anything. He stayed behind and said whatever he needed to say to his woman instead. I didn’t hear the words, but I saw the outcome. She began packing her things, preparing to leave. I watched her through a window and suddenly felt deep compassion for her. I felt her pain. After a moment, the man left the space, and I went back inside. I asked her if I could hug her. She said yes. We embraced, and she began crying on my shoulder. It felt real, heavy, and intimate… and I realized that this exact kind of ritual had once taken place in waking life during one of my retreats, where women held each other in grief and release. Then the other woman entered the room. She looked at me with a light, almost careless smile and told me that she had traveled with the man all over the world… and that they had been intimate for a long time.  I walked away into nowhere. It did feel completeness inside. Not a little bit, but total completeness. I didn’t know where my car was. I was still in a foreign country. My phone application that was supposed to help me locate it didn’t work. I couldn’t remember the name of the town or the street where I had once been with him. I was lost. Entirely alone. With no direction, no coordinates, no familiar reference points. Everything was different and irreversible.

It showed me that a certain scenario was over. That a certain room of fear was over. That a certain internal narrative was over. That old navigation system was no longer active. There was no drama nor visible conflict or some dramatic collapse. But there was quiet and determined exit. Not running! And not fighting. There were no burning bridges, destroying stories. Just leaving the field.

So back to today! Today’s clarity confirmed it without emotion, without projection, without fantasy: I am SO not in that orbit anymore. But it also showed me that some deeper parts of me were still holding on to some hope, today it was destroyed completely. I am not sure how I will navigate from here, but I am sure I will be ok.  I understand now that some lives are built to remain intact. And some souls are built to pass through breaking points. And when these two meet, the connection is not a future, it’s a threshold, a transition, a catalyst, a mirror, a lesson, a bridge, a passage. Not a destination! This understanding gives a very deep kind of peace. Not that emotional peace I was hoping for. Unfortunately, there is no fairy tale in this story! It is not romantic or poetic peace. It is hard to say, but is a structural peace. The peace of knowing where you are not. The peace of no longer negotiating with reality. The peace of not trying to rewrite someone else’s structure. The peace of not waiting for external transformation that doesn’t belong to that system. The peace of choosing yourself without drama. I don’t live in “maybe” anymore.

I don’t live in alternative versions of reality. I don’t live in fantasy narratives. I don’t live in waiting. I live in what is now. And what is, is simple: some paths are parallel, and they are not converging. Some connections are transitional, not terminal. Some bonds are thresholds, they are not my homes. Some loves are mirrors, not my futures. Some encounters exist to awaken you and not to stay with you! 

For a long time, the gravity was already weakening. Quietly. Gently. Gradually. Not through crisis…  It was weaking through the loss of resonance… loss of inner tension…. loss of pull…

And this week, I feel it fully and irreversibly: my own decisions, my own direction, my own movement, my own life. The orbit is broken. The attachment is completed…. naturally. I had to wake up from the long dream of illusions…  It feels different. Like a body that knows when to stop walking. Like a system that knows when to rest. Like a soul that knows when a cycle is complete. I feel no anger. No resentment. No jealousy. No competition. No bitterness. Only clarity!  And gratitude for what was real in me. And honesty about what is not.

I saw myself fully in full light – how much I do love, I don’t just give crumbs, I give everything I have.  Sometimes peace doesn’t come from pushing forward. Sometimes it comes from stepping out, from slowing down, from stopping all together... From choosing care for yourself! That nourishment for yourself! Sometimes it comes from choosing truth… From choosing self! Just cleanly, quietly, finally.

This is not a story about loss. It’s a story about ending an orbit. And beginning a different gravity.

I hope YOUR trip goes well from now on… 

Isn't it a beautiful view? I never wanted to be an austronaut, but now I do wonder...