Friendship on an island

I am still enjoying tranquillity of the surrounding and the aloneness – I haven’t felt so much rested and relaxed for ages. Tomorrow I will go back home – if the wind is not too strong and so ferries will operate.

Yesterday an old and very dear friend Nado came to visit me at the camp. He leaves about 60 km away, in an old coastal town Zadar and is a professional musician, guitarist. On top of that he also manufactures most exquisite hand-made hard-wood electric guitars and electric basses one can imagine. Thought electric instruments, his guitars preserve the rich sound of the acoustic instruments – it is probably the wood he uses, but I believe it is definitely also the love he infuses into his pieces of art. Check it out.

Spending a couple of hours with him in an honest and easy conversation, about life, relationships and midlife crises, of course, filled me not only with a lot of warmth in my hearth, but also with a lot of thoughts about the friendship.

Nado and I have met 20 years ago in the military service – we were both sent to the same army unit in Montenegro. It was not the easiest time of our lives; however we became friends instantly and supported each other until the end of our terms. We even played together in the army rock and folk band.

We keep meeting each other every few years here and there, remaining open and supportive. I believe these are two crucial factors that transform a relationship between two individuals to what can be called a true friendship. Openness and mutual support.

I have once heard or read someplace that the proof of friendship is not that you are on-line non-stop with certain person, but that you remain open to that person even for decades if you do not see each other – and when you sit down again after all that time, the openness is there instantly, you just continue from the point where you have had paused, right on, no need for small talk, no need to introduce and test each other.

And the issue of the mutual support; I guess this is the feeling when I know I can ask for support whenever I need it and the other person will immediately respond, no question asked and without a moment of hesitation. To me it does not mean that I will be using this potential of friendship all the time – in certain friendship I actually never used it so far, I think – but just the feeling that this quality of the contact is present, makes the difference.

Just now, writing this I realized that I actually have a lot of friends like this around the world. Just knowing this feels me up with easiness, warmth

Grieving on an island

I decided to take one week off, completely off. I have given 80 workshops this year, from one to three days long and numerous talks, coaching sessions, facilitations on top of that. And I feel immensely exhausted from being in an intensive interaction with people all the time, and especially from being exposed in front of audiences continually. I just had to run away for some time, to simply be alone, not interacting. Luckily enough Marjeta fully understands my position and supports this need of mine. And kids are OK with it too. Although this is not the best way to spend the Christmas time.

So here I am, with our dear good old reliable van, that has taken us to such wonderful places that we already consider it/him to be a part of our family, in a deserted camping on the island Pag in the Adriatic sea. I wanted to do a lot of cycling in order to get my blood going and my knees back in the correct position, however since it is raining most of the time or the wind is just too heavy and too cold, not much cycling has taken place since my arrival here. But I do enjoy reading, writing, gazing at the horizon, watching a DVD a day, meditating a bit…

Reading an excellent Jack Kornfield’s book “After the Ecstasy, the Laundry” (I love the title), about what is life like after the spiritual ecstasy and awakening, brings out a lot of memories, all linked to the period of my life when I was spending years with a group of people in a semi-community, devoting all I was able to personal exploration and growth. And I realize that a deep part of me is grieving over that time and that community.

To me that community was the first true family, a group of people I felt completely safe with. We had so much in common and shared that eagerly. We were trying to reach the Truth, as we have called it, enlightenment, the meaning of life, liberation… In practical terms it meant countless days of meditating and sitting together, opening up to ourselves, to others, to life, letting out what had been hidden for so long; pain, fears, shame, anger, unmet needs, love…, and sharing it with tearful eyes and joyful laughter, and than mutually accepting it, with love and patience. An utterly new world was opening up in front of us and we were, like kids, exploring it together, cautiously, yet excitedly.

When I remember those days my heart warms up, however I also feel sad. Sad because it was such a wonderful time and the beauty of it did not survive in the real life. And I am grieving over beautiful people I have lost contact with, over that community sense, over standing with others with our souls stripped naked, crying together, breathing deeply.

And I guess this feeling of community of people sharing the innermost parts is something I am still after. Wherever I sense the single trace of a possibility of something like this I immediately respond, trying to re-create something like that. But it never truly works. The magic does not repeat. Perhaps I have changed in the meantime, perhaps the world has.