Awakening of the mind

Days on end the Manchester spring blesses us with amazing sunshine and perfect, crispy days, where the cold gives way to a nice wave of soft happiness without being intrusively warm. Yet, Mancunians wear nothing but t-shirts and slippers, while alkA. and I still look a bit like Eskimo's, huddled in our coats (c'mon! we haven't seen a real winter for SEVEN years!).
And as the sun keeps tempting us to give in to the spring, we look at it from our  windows and from behind our desks and computers, softly sighing and digging back into the books and articles.
Life as a student again...nothing can really beat that! The strive to know and learn more brings more joy then spring! Who would have thought...

My new resolution...

Seize the moment...
Remember all the well-known sayings like Carpe Diem and Memento Mori?
Rushing through the corridors of life makes me really forget them.
I no longer know who I am, who I have become, and sometimes I get surprised when I look into the mirror. It's in those short moments of revelation that I get aquainted with the new 'me' and carry on for months on end again.
So I decided to make it my new habit - my new gymnastics for the mind. Spend 5 minutes a day remembering who I am, why I'm here and where I'm going...before the sand of time has seeped through...

It's me. nice to meet you.

Clutter

My mind is in a thousand places. Like a thousand post-it notes, covering my brain. So much to do, to plan, to worry about, to consider and remember.
I need a mental enema. Take all those notes and burn them, so I can be free again!...
...or is this what life is supposed to be?
A constant struggle between wanting to be free and the sad truth that when we do, we are dead.

So, I guess I am alive then...that makes me feel better...

Breathe in - breathe out.

The universe has been finding peculiar ways to try and tell us to worry less.
Instead of attending a practical class today, somehow we mixed up the rooms and didn't find out we were in the wrong place for about 15 minutes.
We ended up in a mindfulness class, teaching us how to make a change. And just in tune with what we needed to hear in our quest for a better life.
First you start by congratulating yourself about what you have achieved. Giving yourself a little pat on the back for making an effort, for making a difference in something - your life, someone else's...
Then you try to relax your mind. Realize that you are HERE and NOW.
"If your thoughts wonder off, just gently bring them back in. And if it helps you concentrate, focus on your breathing - breathe in, breathe out."
Now pick out - what is it that you would like to change about yourself. You can't change the world, you can't change the others, you can change yourself, even though this might be one of the hardest things you'd try to do, because most likely if it was that easy, you would have done it.
A feeling crept up my throat. I knew what I'd instantly batter myself with and no sooner had I thought it that it arrived:
"I am Stoyan and I'm a procrastinator"
I started judging myself immediately despite the psychologist's plead not to blame ourselves.
"I am Stoyan and I'm a procrastinator"
And I kept looking for excuses. She said that it was because we're scared to act, because we may fail. But I'm afraid I have a worse explanation.

I believe that life is good and no matter what, good things will happen.

So is this a blessing? Or is it a curse in disguise?

Don't judge. Just breathe in then slowly breathe out...

Дisco, Dиско!

- Никак не ми се излиза!
 ...
- Ебаси якия клуб! Няма такива в България. Андърграунд, без помпозности, лъскавости и цупли. Виж само как са облечени хората! Back to the 80's! Много ме кефят! Няма кисели физиономии, всеки си има собствен стил, не следва норми, не спазва рамки...
- Виж! В Англия сме! Студенти сме! В Манчестър сме! Оцени момента! Прекрасно е! Никога не съм и смеела да си помисля, че ще го осъществим.

- Забеляза ли, няма хитове! Само яки песнички за танци, все непознати!
- Къде по света хората в клуба се хващат на влакче и обикалят дансинга? Къде не гледат на това с цинична насмешка като на детинщина?
- Оо, на тази музика баща ти определено би се кефил!
- Не мога да повярвам как пият тези англичани! Рожденичката пи самбука, водка, мидори, бира, шамборд, ром, пак бира, текила шот, бира, водка...в рамките на два часа!
- Виж, откога не си виждал тийнейджър с блузка на Beatles
(аз, на ум: никога не съм виждал. Ужас, и това доживях! Ако Сами слуша Beatles, или  Abba, може би ще полудея. на глас: Даа, много е хубаво)
- Оо, баща ти определено би се изкефил тук!
(аз, на ум: о, ако пуснат още една песен на Beatles или Oasis, или още една Rock'n'roll песен от 70те, ще се гръмна! на глас: Даа, много е хубаво)
- На Кендис и откраднаха чантата!
...
- Намериха я. Само 25 паунда са изчезнали. Всичко друго си е там! Даже и HTC телефона й!
(аз наум: мило от тяхна страна, в БГ не биха й оставили телефона. Тук даже крадат по-цивилизовано. А и в БГ биха й навряли чантата в кенефа, ей така от злоба. Нейната чанта е непокътната! Явно на някой просто са му трябвали пари)
...
- Боже мой, виж колко много хора по улиците в един сутринта!
- Виж, тези момичета са боси! Напълно боси! Без обувки, без чорапи! Температурата е 1 градус!
(аз, на ум: горките! Ще им изстинат яйчниците!)

Прекрасно е да играеш себе си! Да не мислиш за погледите, забележките и укорите. Манчестър определено ни показва колко нормално е да имаш индивидуалност, образ и личност! Да те уважават заради изборите ти, да не те оглеждат надменно. А аз толкова съм свикнал да съдя, да се надсмивам цинично над изборите на хората, над прически, дрехи и поведение. Сам не си давам, че крайната степен на това е стадото. В Манчестър няма стадо! Дано успея да го изхвърля и от главата си!

Fashion before passion

I have the unfortunate fate of often being ridiculed by my dear wife about my fashion beliefs. It's true that the obsession with clothes and accessories never quite developed and remained in its rudimentary form of the old-school-hardcore-punk-skateboarding style. Every now and then, though I crack and I have one of those good-hair days, where somehow I match the right set of clothes on my back and I get a thumbs-up from alkA. Yet, during our US days, I've been called quite 'European' looking by my friends at work, when they saw me with my checkered Billabong jacket.

To them 'European' or gay is often an interchangeable 'offense' and I have plenty of examples to prove that one day...

But this post is not about that.

I figured that the day would come, when I'd look at the modern teens and be like my grandfather, when he almost got a heart-attack, seeing my earrings. I didn't however think I'd be that surprised that early in my life.
So, to me the way they made clothes this winter was...so that everyone can finally dress ugly and never have to worry about looking bad anymore. This way, if you look like a rug, who cares if you're walking amongst scarecrows.

But, enough talking. Judge for yourself!

So, my friends, ugly's the new black! I say go to your grandma's attic or basement, dig out what you can find and you'll blend in just fine. But then again, who am I to judge. I'd probably pick the white/blue dress from the third picture anyway :)

The unexpected effect of the bubbles...

If you want the sun to start shining again...

Sometimes all you need to do is take off your blinds.
It's not always the case, but more often than not, it works!
The 'glass is half empty' attitude does little but hurt us. Rarely can you get motivated by a negative thought. And when you focus on everything that's good and true and positive, you get the powerful energy supply of your inner God. This is the inhuman energy that people muse about when they talk about extraordinary achievements and demonstrations of strength and spirit!
I will not go as far as telling you that this is all you need, as often a boost is necessary. But a boost can be found even in your loved ones eyes...so you don't always have to look too far!

For the sun has never stopped shining!  Most of the time we are just unable to see it.

Замъци, отлежали вина и вмирисани чорапи...Част I и II

Вече всички части са написани тук

to my love

We may have traded TV for a fireplace,
our car for a skateboard,
our house for an accommodation,
comfort for adventure,
the 2-for-10-cellophane-wrapped flower-bunches for pick-us-from-the-meadow-get-mud-under-your-fingernails crocuses,
the trips to the mall for walks to the coffee shop,
restaurants for beers in the pUb...

but we didn't trade our hearts for rocks,
our souls for plastics,
our minds for slumber,
and our love for habit.

So, on this day, allow me this humble gift to you, my dear:

We live in wealth,
we live in dearth,
we live in health,
around the Earth

And everywhere is home,
and everything is fine,
as long as you still love me,
as long as you're my Valentine!

Миличка Стели,

Благодаря ти, че ме ми разреши да си играя с играчките ти; Да чета книжките ти;



Да забучвам шапки на виличките ти;

 

Да папам на столчето ти;

 Да спинкам в леглото ти;

Да акам на гърнето ти;

Да гледам през прозореца ти;



Да танцувам на дивана ти;

Надявам се да мога и аз някой ден така да те подслоня!

И не се тревожи! Всичко съм си изчистил!

 

С мама и татко ти благодарим за гостоприемството!!!

 

 Сами

The Best Rider - on the Strongest Horse, Please!

As a kid my cousin and I used to play this game with an old indian (native American for the politically correct, which was not part of my childhood dictionary) tribe with beautiful horses and a "cowboy" fort. There were guns, there were huts, wooden houses, hats and battles...


In my pursuit for perfection, being taught to be quite anal even as a kid, I used to always put the best-looking rider, with the richest garments and the biggest muscles on the prettiest, white horse. To me this was a way of looking at the chance to have it all. Then of course, there'd be the struggle of who would play with that toy, because the alternative was the ugly indian on the ugly horse, which noone wanted to play with.

My cousin always had a different approach. He'd mix and match. Something, completely irritating to me. Since in that case there was no way of full satisfaction. You were either stuck with the ugly rider, or the beat-up horse.

Today this makes me think how early in life lessons come, to teach us submission. The "you can't have it all" attitude gets implanted in your head and sets you back for life. Teaches you how to put up and put out to injustice.  Cuz had learned his life lessons before me, being more than 3 years older and knew, I guess, that you can't have it all. Well, I wanted it all and my whole life I've been reaching for it. I've had the half-bread comfort of being almost there...but I just wasn't satisfied. My only true happiness that I will defend with my life - my family - alkA. and Sami, are truly my blessing and no day goes by without me thanking that I have the miracle of love in my life. But my glass seems to be half-empty still. As I need to know that I can secure their lives as well as mine. I want to achieve more in life and have a better chance of providing for my son than my parents could give me. So, I just can't lie down and accept. There's so much I want to do, so much I wanna be! I remember here the story about the two mice, which I heard in the movie "Catch me if you can". When they fell in the bucket of cream, one gave up and drowned, but the other kept on struggling, until the cream hardened and became butter, so she got out.

What happens if the cream never thickens? Is this when the second mouse gets ridiculed for wasting its last moments and dying of exhaustion, rather than giving up in peace?

Which mouse are you?
Do you like pretty riders on ugly horses? Or do you strive for perfection? All or nothing? Life or death? Or simple mediocrity? I warn you the road of dissatisfaction is steep...but the only one I ever liked...