Pišem jer je glas moje duše glasniji od spoljašnje buke. Pišem jer moje misli nemaju drugi dom. Ono što osećam, što znam, sve u reči stane i umesto suza poteku rime i umesto bola procveta stih. / I write because the voice of my soul is louder than outside noise. I write since my thoughts have no other home. What I feel, what I know, it all fits in words and instead of the tears the rhymes flow and instead of the pain the verse blooms.
Zagrlila sam ga, pridržavajući ga nežno. Gledali smo se u oči, njegove su se smešile nekim zvezdanim sjajem. Bile su to oči dečaka, koji zavisi od tuđe ljubavi, koji voli iskreno i ništa ne traži za uzvrat. Taj njegov pogled mi je davao snagu da se ne raspadnem, znajući da ga gubim dok ga je njegovo telo izdavalo. U tim rukama koje su me toliko puta nosile i dizale u nebo, nije više bilo snage, a „ moje brze noge što su nekad konja mogle stići, a sada su oslabile, jedva mogu na njih ići…“, kako je voleo da recituje. Znala sam da odlazi polako, na onaj neizbežni put, ali nisam to htela da priznam. Ipak je on bio tu za mene od mog prvog plača, 23 godine sam mu sedela u krilu, uz njega sam uvek bila dete, a sada sam morala da odrastem.
Naizgled to je bio jedan običan i, kako će se ispostaviti, poslednji susret jedne unuke i njenog voljenog dede. Samo, za mene je taj pogled kojim smo sve rekli, a da reč nismo izgovorili, bio poslednja podrška koju sam dobila od njega. Njegov sigurni zagrljaj sa “onoga sveta”. Spokoj, ljubav i prostodušnost tog pogleda su me umirivali i grejali moju dušu vraćajući sve lepe uspomene na detinjstvo i odrastanje uz njega. Taj naš susret bio je i ostao moje svetlo na kraju tunela tuge koja još ume da zaboli, skoro 20 godina kasnije, ali taj sjaj u oku… još uvek sija kao najsjajnija zvezda.
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I hugged him, holding him gently. We were looking into each other’s eyes, his were smiling with a starry glow. These were the eyes of a boy, who depends on someone else’s love, who loves sincerely and does not ask for anything in return. That look of his gave me the strength not to fall apart, knowing I was losing him as his body betrayed him. In those hands that carried me so many times and lifted me into the sky, there was no more strength, and “my fast legs, which once could run with horses, but now are weak, I can barely use them for walking…”, as he liked to recite. I knew he was leaving slowly, on that inevitable path, but I didn’t want to admit it. However, he has been there for me since my first cry, I sat on his lap for 23 years, I was always a child with him, and now I had to grow up. Seemingly, it was an ordinary and, as it turns out, the last meeting between a granddaughter and her beloved grandfather. Only, for me, that look with which we said everything, without saying a word, was the last support I received from him. His safe embrace from “the other world”. The serenity, love and simplicity of that look calmed me and warmed my soul, returning all the beautiful memories of my childhood and growing up with him by my side. That meeting of ours was and remains my light at the end of the tunnel of sorrow that can still hurt, almost 20 years later, but that glow in the eyes… still shines like the brightest star. Tijana Stupljanin
My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind.
Most people say that it is the intellect which makes a great scientist. They are wrong: it is character.
Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.
Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.
It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.
Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.
April već privodi svoje dane kraju, sve se više oseća dah proleća. Jutros me je probudila kiša, vodila sam dete u vrtić i u povratku udahnula svež kišoviti dan. Taj miris kiše u proleće… Kako to opisati? To je doživljaj svih čula, miriše trava, miriše drveće nekom posebnom svežinom koja, za razliku od jesenjih kiša, greje.
Ako ste imali tu sreću da provodite proleća negde u prirodi, kao što sam ja sve prolećne i većinu letnjih raspusta provodila u Aranđelovcu kod babe i dede, u krošnjama Bukovičkog parka i senkama prohladnih povečerja sa Bukulje, možda i vas miris kiše u proleće vrati u mladost.
Nisam nešto posebno nostalgična, ali taj miris mokre šume, pokisle nedavno pokošene trave, taj osećaj da vreme ne teče u tom savršenom trenutku bezbrižnosti i mladalačkog sanjarenja, kao da je ostao zapisan zauvek u mojim nozdrvama.
Srećna sam i zahvalna što sam danas, na tren, ponovo bila devojčica zagledana u oblake i zaljubljena u život koji tek dolazi.
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April is already counting its last days, the spring spirit can be scented in the air. This morning the rain woke me up, I was walking my kid to the kindergarten and on my way back home I was breathing in fresh rainy day. That smell of the rain in the springtime… How to describe it? It is a full all senses experience, the grass smells, the trees smell of some exceptional freshness that, unlike rains in fall, warms you.
If you were lucky enough to spend your springs somewhere in the nature, like I was spending all my spring breakes and most of the summer vacations in Arandjelovac with my grandparents, in the treetops of the Bukovik Park and the shadows of chilly taps from the mountain Bukulja, maybe the smell of rain in the spring brings you back to the youth too.
I am not especially nostalgic, but that smell of the wet forest, of wet recently cut grass, that feeling that time does not flow in that perfect moment of carelessness and youthful daydreaming, as if it remained written forever in my nostrils.
I am happy and grateful that today, for a moment, I was again a girl staring at the clouds and in love with the life that is yet to come.
Postala sam majka pre skoro 8 godina, a tek sad sam spremna da pišem o tome. Ja sam neko ko svemu u životu pristupa studiozno i volim da budem spremna za sve moguće (i nemoguće :-)) scenarije. Čitala sam sve o trudnoći, pripremi za porođaj, vodila dnevnik trudnoće, išla na vežbe pripreme za porođaj, išla u školu roditeljstva, seminare na temu porođaja i roditeljstva, prečešljala sve o svim porodilištima u Beogradu, pa i o porodilištu u Pančevu koje ima dobar program za porođaj po meri trudnice, ma jedino na šta nisam otišla, jer sam kasno čula i nisam mnogo znala o tome, a nisam ni imala podršku da krenem da razmišljam u tom pravcu, jeste obuka kod dule za porođaj kod kuće, mada sam i o tome čitala i divila se, onako iz daleka.
Moj prvi porođaj je bio potpuno drugačiji od svega što sam pročitala, čula i vežbala! Klasičan traumatični, indukovani, porođaj prvorotke, samo u mom slučaju još i bez epidurala. Ne želim o tom iskustvu da pišem, jer time ne bih nikome pomogla, rećiću samo da je svaka trudnoća priča za sebe baš kao i svaki porođaj i baš kao i svaka beba koja nakon toga dođe na svet. Samo ću reći da ako znate da ćete biti pod indukcijom zaista dobro razmislite i o epiduralu, ja sam naivno mislila da moja prirodna elastičnost, visok prag bola i decenija bolnih ciklusa mogu da preguraju porođaj, ali indukcija nije prirodna sila i ne može se prirodom pobediti, iz mog iskustva.
U svakom slučaju, posle dva dana u porodilištu, došle smo kući moja bekana i ja i igranka je počela. Dala mi je taman toliko fore da mi se gvožđe, koje je čudom nestalo iz mog krvotoka, malo podigne na normalu i da mogu da sednem iole pristojno, a onda su krenuli grčevi, pa teško uspavljivanje. Nosali smo je, pevali, nunali, masirali, otkrili panda položaj na ruci, pa white noise, koji je nju kao smirivao, ali zato mog muža izluđivao :D. Ja sam u svom zamišljenom idealu planirala da joj ne dajem cuclu, nisam je ni kupila, dojila sam je kad god je tražila ili plakala. Sva sreća pa je moja sestra, već iskusna majka, prilikom prve posete donela cuclu. Čini mi se da se ni grčevi još nisu skroz završili, nju su počeli da svrbe desni, balavila je, sve što joj se nađe u vidnom polju stavljala u usta, ličila je na klovna sa crvenom farbom oko usta. Uspavljivanje je i dalje bilo čista akrobatika! Rećiću vam samo da je prvi put prespavala celu noć i to nekoliko noći za redom sa punih godinu i po dana! Ja još uvek nemam taj luksuz.
Dojenje mi je bilo jako važno i za to sam se pripremala upijajući sve savete. Tek sam sa drugim detetom shvatila da mi prvo dete nije uopšte bilo dobro postavljeno za sisanje, ali šta je tu je, čovek se uči dok je živ. Kad su prošle ragade, koje su većim delom bile posledica upravo loše postavljene bebe na dojku (obavezno pitajte neku babicu ili iskusnu dojilju da vam pokaže kako se u startu beba postavlja), dojenje mi je bilo najlepši deo materinstva, toliko nežnosti, lepote, ljubavi, bliskosti i mira u tako jednostavnom činu, dojenje je čisto služenje božanskom sa najvišim smislom!
Koliko sam uživala u dojenju, toliko mi je muke zadavalo menjanje pelena. Ne mislim na tehniku prepovijanja, to sam savladala lako, kao iskusna tetka dve divne duše. Činilo mi se da moje dete non stop kaki i piški i ozbiljno trenira moju izdržljivost. Presvuci dete pre podoja, presvukla, podojila, dete se ukakilo, presvuci ponovo. Presvuci dete posle podoja, dete zaspalo na sisi, nit’ da je budiš, nit’ da je ostaviš da spava sa punom pelenom! Nemoguća misija. Onda podrigivanje, majko moja, nosaj u specijalnom položaju, lupkaj po leđima, ali pogodi pravo mesto. Taman mislim, podrignula je, uspavam i spustim u krevetac, ne prođe ni 10 minuta, eto nje ili se ukakila ili nije do kraja podrignula.
Eh, kad se samo setim svih dogodovština! Ipak, to su sve najslađe muke, jer one male čudesne stvari koje se dešavaju u međuvremenu su toliko divne da sam stalno bila u zahvalnosti što svedočim tom čudu od života koje se odvija pred mojim očima i na mojim rukama.
Tijana Stupljanin
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I became a mother almost 8 years ago, and only now am I ready to write about it. I am someone who approaches everything in life studiously and I like to be ready for all possible (and impossible :-)) scenarios. I read everything about pregnancy, preparation for childbirth, kept a pregnancy diary, went to childbirth preparation exercises, went to parenting school, seminars on childbirth and parenthood, combed everything about all maternity hospitals in Belgrade, including the maternity hospital in Pancevo which has a good childbirth program tailored for a pregnant woman, the only thing I didn’t go to, because I heard about it a bit late and didn’t know much about, and I didn’t even have the support to start thinking in that direction, is training for giving birth at home, although I also read about it and admired it, from afar.
My first childbirth was completely different from everything I read, heard and practiced! Classic traumatic, induced, birth of a first-born, only in my case without an epidural. I don’t want to write about that experience, because I wouldn’t help anyone with that, I’ll just say that every pregnancy is a story for itself, just like every birth is and just like every baby that comes into the world after that. I’ll just say that if you know you’re going to be induced, think really well about the epidural, I naively thought that my natural elasticity, high pain threshold, and decades of painful cycles could push through childbirth, but induction is not a natural force and can’t be beaten naturally. From my experience.
Anyway, after two days in the maternity hospital, my baby and I came home and the party started. She gave me just enough time to get my iron, which miraculously disappeared from my bloodstream, to rise a little to normal and to be able to sit at all decently, and then the cramps started, and then hard times putting her to sleep. We carried her, sang, swayed, massaged, discovered the panda position on the arm, then the white noise, which calmed her down, but drove my husband crazy: D. In my imagined ideal, I planned not to give her a pacifier, I didn’t even buy it, I breastfed her whenever she asked or cried. Luckily, my sister, already an experienced mother, brought a pacifier during the first visit. It seemed to me that the cramps are not completely over yet, her gums started itching, she was drooling, she put everything that was in her field of vision in her mouth, she looked like a clown with red paint around her mouth. Putting her to sleep was still pure acrobatics! I’ll just tell you that she slept through the night for the first time, several nights in a row when she was a year and a half old! I still don’t have that luxury.
Breastfeeding was very important to me and I prepared for it by absorbing all the advice. It was only with the second child that I realized that my first child was not well placed for breastfeeding at all, but what is there is, a man learns while he is alive. When the nipple soreness was over, which were mostly the result of a badly placed baby on the breast (be sure to ask a midwife or an experienced breastfeeding mother to show you how to put the baby in the beginning), breastfeeding was the most beautiful part of motherhood, so much tenderness, beauty, love, intimacy and peace in such a simple act, breastfeeding is pure service to the divine with the highest meaning!
As much as I enjoyed breastfeeding, changing the diapers troubled me so much, on the other hand. I don’t mean the changing technique, I mastered it easily, as an experienced aunt of two wonderful souls. It seemed to me that my child was constantly pooping and peeing and seriously training my endurance. They say change the diaper before breastfeeding, I changed the diaper, breastfeed, the baby pooped, change the baby again. Then, change the baby after breastfeeding, the baby fell asleep on the breast, neither to wake her up, nor to leave her to sleep with a full diaper! Mission Impossible. Then burping, oh my god, carry her in a special position, tap her back, but hit the right place. Just as I think she burped, she falls asleep and I put her down in the crib, not even 10 minutes passes, there she is, she either filled her diaper or didn’t burp all the way.
Eh, when I just remember all the adventures! Still, these are all the sweetest torments, because those little miraculous things that are happening in the meantime are so wonderful that I have always been grateful to witness that miracle of life unfolding before my eyes and on my hands.
“U životu postoje samo dva puta i oba vode na isto odredište, u smrt. Jedan od njih je put srca. Koji ćeš izabrati?”
Ne znam ko je autor ove pričice, to mi je možda promaklo. Za ovu mudrost čula sam od jedne divne, autentične žene Tamare Etera, pa ću evo ovde njoj dati kredit.
Toliko sam se često pitala o smislu života i u mladosti, možda više u metafizičkom smislu, ali i sada kada sam negde na sredini životnog puta i praktično. Kažem na sredini jer čini mi se da svi živimo sa tom nekom pretpostavkom da ćemo doživeti bar neki prosečni životni vek. Ali ko nam to garantuje? Prvo, ko mi garantuje prosečan životni vek? Drugo, čak i ako doživim duboku starost, da li to znači da sam živela više/kvalitetnije? Šta je merilo dobrog života, da li koliko sam dugo poživela ili koliko sam kvalitetno živela, a opet šta znači živeti kvalitetno?
Kada se zaista suočim sa ovom prvom ISTINOM, da ovaj život sigurno vodi u smrt i da ćemo svi jednom doći na kraj puta, da li mi ovo saznanje donosi mir ili nemir? Ako mi donosi nemir, znači da ne živim put srca. Ova DRUGA istina može biti čak i bolnija od prve, jer kod prve je naša odgovornost umanjena. Većina ljudi veruje da postoji sudnji dan za svaku dušu i ma šta radili u životu, kad taj dan dođe nema nazad. Ja, ipak, verujem da je slobodna volja ultimativni princip i da, nekada, i duša može da se predomisli i promeni tok svoje sudbine. Svakako, smrt neće niko od nas izbeći, samo je možemo posmatrati kao kraj ili kao novi početak…
Začkoljica sa slobodnom voljom je upravo ta da je sva odgovornost mog života u mojim rukama. Kada razmišljam o svom životnom putu i dalje se pitam, često oklevam, možda još uvek više sanjam život nego što ga živim? Često se setim ove mudrosti i pitam se, kada bi se moj život sada završio, za čim bih žalila? Ili, ako doživim starost pa se osvrnem na pređeni put, da li bih bila srećna i spokojna ili bih htela nešto da menjam? Svesna sam da ne živim svoj put srca svakog dana, ali sam zadovoljna i sa tim da se zahvaljujem i molim svakoga dana za vođstvo da ga ne gubim iz vida. Često mi se i pokaže da i neke sitne stvari koje radim naizgled stihijski, sa nekog aspekta životnog puta imaju svoje mesto i smisao.
Za mene u ovom sadašnjem trenutku (a šta drugo i posedujemo?) živeti kvalitetno znači usklađivati se sa svojom dušom što češće, osluškivati svoje srce i pratiti intuiciju, poštovati svoje telo, biti u ljubavi i zahvalnosti sa životnim okolnostima i naći način da podelim svoju autentičnost sa što više ljudi. Gde si ti SADA u svom životu?
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“There are only two paths in life and both lead to the same destination, to death. One of them is the path of the heart. Which will you choose?”
I don’t know who the author of this story is, I may have missed it. I heard about this wisdom from a wonderful, authentic woman, Tamara Etera, so I will give her the credit.
I have so often wondered about the meaning of life in my youth, perhaps more in the metaphysical sense, but also now that I am somewhere in the middle of my life also practically. I say in the middle because it seems to me that we all live with that assumption that we will experience at least some average life expectancy. But who guarantees us that? First, who guarantees me an average lifespan? Secondly, even if I live to be a very old age, does that mean that I have lived more/better? What is the measure of a good life, how long have I lived or how well have I lived, and again, what does it mean to live well?
When I really face this first TRUTH, that this life surely leads to a death and that we will all come to the end of the road one day, does this knowledge brings me peace or unrest? If it brings me restlessness, it means I am not living the path of the heart. This SECOND truth can be even more painful than the first one, because with the first one our responsibility is diminished. Most people believe that there is a judgment day for every soul and no matter what they do in life, when that day comes there is no going back. However, I believe that free will is the ultimate principle and that, sometimes, the soul can change its mind and change the course of its destiny. Of course, none of us will escape death, we can only look at it as the end or as a new beginning…
The catch with the free will is precisely that all the responsibility of my life is in my hands. When I think about my life path I still wonder, I often hesitate, maybe I still dream of life more than I live it? I often remember this wisdom and wonder, if my life would end now, what would I regret? Or, if I live to an old age and look back on the journey, would I be happy and calm or would I want to change something? I am aware that I do not live my way of the heart every day, but I am also pleased to thank and pray every day for guidance so that I do not lose a sight of it. It is often shown to me that some small things that I do seemingly spontaneously, from some aspect of my life path, have their place and meaning. For me in this present moment (and what else do we have?) to live well means to align with my soul as often as possible, listen to my heart and follow my intuition, respect my body, be in love and gratitude with the life’s circumstances and find a way to share my authenticity with as many people as possible. Where are you in your life NOW?
Primoravajući drugog da primi nešto što ne traži mi ga povređujemo. / By forcing someone to receive what he didn’t ask for we are hurting him.
Pobediti znači naučiti da gubiš. Izgubiti znači samo promeniti put. / To win means learning to lose. Losing only means changing of the path.
U našim ranama odzvanja izlečenje. To su vrata kroz koja ulazi Svest. / Healing resounds in our wounds. It is the door through which Consciousness enters.
Već jesi ono što želiš da budeš. / You already are what you wish to be.
Što se više upinješ da se oslobodiš svog ega, on je sve veći. Ne sputava on tebe, već ti njega hraniš. / The more you try to get rid of your ego, the bigger it gets. He does not restrain you, but you feed him.
Događaji zavise od onoga kako ih doživljavamo. Spoljašnja stvarnost se prepliće sa našom dušom. / Events depend on how we experience them. External reality intertwines with our soul.
Ono što kritikuješ kod drugih je u tebi. Ono što nije u tebi ne vidiš. / What you criticize in others is in you. You do not see what is not in you.
Kada iz tebe izađe novi život, taj prvi dodir, prvi pogled na potpuno novo biće učini da u trenu spoznaš svu veličinu Boga, života, kreacije.
Ogromni potencijal koji svaka duša donosi na ovaj svet odjednom postaje opipljiv. U tom majušnom telu, ti vidiš diva. Neobjašnjiva je roditeljska ljubav i vera i nada, a nada poslednja umire.
Ume da bude zeznuta ta nada. Držimo je se čak i kad znamo, kad jednim delom duše osećamo istinu, istinu koja možda boli, ali je sve jedno tu i neće nestati samo zato što je ignorišemo ili potiskujemo.
Ipak, ta nada nas drži na površini, daje nam snagu da ne potonemo, podgreva nam veru dok ne postanemo spremni za istinu. A istina… Istina će nas osloboditi.
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When a new life comes right out of you, that first touch, the first look at that brand new being makes you perceive all the magnificence of God, life, creation.
Enormous potential that every soul brings to this world suddenly becomes tangible. In that tiny body, you see a giant. Parental love and faith and hope is just inexplicable, and the hope dies last.
That hope can be tricky. We hold on to it even if we know, when we feel with one part of our soul the truth, the truth that may hurt, but is nevertheless there and won’t disappear just because we ignore it or suppress it.
However, that hope is keeping us on the surface, gives us strength not to sink below, warms up our faith until we become ready for the truth. And the truth… The truth will set you free.
Obična žena, ona koja tka nevidljivi omotač zaštite oko svojih voljenih. Ona koja bdi nad dečijim snom. Žena koja kao magijom drži porodicu na okupu, zlatnim nitima spaja sa ognjištem i one koji odu daleko. Nije ona ni kuvarica ni spremačica. Ona je čarobnica koja od hrane pravi gozbu, od ružnih snova bajku, iz briga iznedri nadu, iz straha hrabrost.
Znate svi bar jednu takvu, običnu ženu koja stvara neobičnu svakodnevicu. Jednom rukom kuva, drugom čuva, trećom mazi, četvrtom krpi, petom drži knjigu, šestom kupi veš, sedmom sprema kuću, osmom grli, devetom grdi, desetom se šminka, jedanaestom neguje, dvanaestom…
Ona je sve to: majka, žena, supruga, domaćica, kuvarica, drugarica, plesačica, vidarka, negovateljica, keva, vaspitačica, zabavljačica, ljubavnica, sekretarica, krojačica, učiteljica, vila i veštica.
Magija obične žene je ona nevidljiva snaga, ljubav i poverenje što drži porodicu na okupu, što od malih, običnih stvari svija gnezdo puno ljubavi.
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An ordinary woman, one who weaves an invisible sheath of protection around her loved ones. The one who watches over a child’s dream. A woman who, as if by magic, keeps the family together, with the golden threads connects to the hearthstone those who go far. She is neither a cook nor a cleaner. She is a sorceress who makes a feast out of food, a fairy tale out of bad dreams, hope out of worry, courage out of fear.
You all know at least one such, ordinary woman who creates an unusual daily life. She cooks with one hand, guards with the other, caresses with the third, stitching clothes with the fourth, holds a book with the fifth, folds clothes with the sixth, cleans the house with the seventh, hugs with the eighth, scold with the ninth, puts on make-up with the tenth, nurtures with the eleventh…
She is all that: a mother, a wife, a woman, a housewife, a cook, a friend, a dancer, a healer, a caregiver, a mom, an educator, an entertainer, a lover, a secretary, a tailor, a teacher, a fairy and a witch.
The magic of an ordinary woman is that invisible strength, love and trust that keeps the family together, that bends a nest full of love from small, ordinary things.
kapljicezivota/thedropsoflife 