Pero Slobode

Bilo joj je tesno. Tu, u njenim grudima.  Osećala se sputano, a vapila je za slobodom. Želela je da živi, da se igra, da se glasno smeje i sija sa drugim Dušama. Uporno je pokušavala da umilostivi svoju domaćicu da povuče artiljeriju sa fronta koji odavno ne postoji. Da je probudi iz dečijeg sna u kom je ostala zaglavljena. “Bezbedno je!”- vikala je. Ali odgovora nije bilo. Domaćica je bila stroga žena pitome naravi. Prema svima je bila blaga, osim prema sebi.  Vrata svoga srca je tri puta zaključala, za svaki slučaj, da se ne ponovi. Znala je ko se iza njih nalazi i silno je želela da to biće zaštiti.  Osećala je njen unutrašnji zov, potrebu i potencijal koji je želeo u svet, ali se nije usuđivala. Preplašena da će je okruženje rastrgnuti ako je ugleda, žena je svu svoju snagu usmerila ka njenoj sigurnosti.  “Znam da nisi srećna. Osećam te.” - govorila je. “Ali tu si bezbedna. Tu te niko ne može povrediti. Ja te čuvam.” “Ja?” - pitala se Duša. “Ko je to “Ja” koje me...

You know that feeling when it’s your turn to say something, and suddenly your throat tightens, your heart starts racing, your legs go weak, and your whole body goes numb and paralyzed? Your voice disappears — it becomes squeaky, shallow, shaky. Your mind goes blank, and your thoughts become so overwhelming that they slip away… like chaotic buzzing bees. You feel like you might faint, throw up, the ground is swaying under your feet, your palms are sweating, your hands are shaking… A whole storm is happening inside you, while on the outside absolutely nothing has changed. The same person or people are standing in front of you, with the same facial expression they had a half-second ago — a half-second that, for you, has lasted an eternity. For them, everything is the same; they have no idea about the inner agony you’re going through, while you feel as if the whole world has just collapsed onto your shoulders. That stage fright and fear of being seen doesn’t only show up when you’re expe...

 They told us and taught us to be obedient and good. I’m not sure anyone ever truly explained what that even means. I have the feeling that we, as children, learning from the examples of the people closest to us — and later, from society as a whole — mostly understood “being good” as doing favors for others at the expense of ourselves, giving endlessly, never asking or receiving, staying quiet and enduring whatever life throws at us. Because that's what we witnessed most often, and what was also expected of us. Many of us learned it under threats of punishment, beatings, restrictions — which planted a seed of self-blame, guilt, and not-enoughness deep within. As if martyrdom and suffering were some form of virtue or gratitude. Because if you complain — you're ungrateful. And if you're ungrateful — then you're “bad.” Something like that… Still, with all my being, I believe that what they actually wanted to say was “Respect others and do good deeds,” but from their own...

Five years after I shyly opened my Instagram page feather_of_freedom , born out of a deep need to express myself to the World and a desire to share my writings, reflections, and observations — I’ve finally decided to launch my blog. That Instagram page hasn’t been active for four years now, but the words are still there. They testify to a moment in time . As I read the first public pieces written by that young woman, I remember exactly where they were written, when, who was there, and who was missing. I feel her pain, and I send her immense love and a long, warm embrace filled with support and strength — because I know how she feels, I know what she needs, and even more, I know how much she truly deserves all of it. So much courage can be read between her lines — so much hope, enthusiasm, and persistence. A lion-strong heart beating loud and clear inside her soft chest. Every heartbeat a step forward — a triumph of divine love and the Spark she carries within. The Spark guiding her....

Znate onaj osećaj kada je red na vas da nešto kažete, a onda vam se stegne grlo, uznemiri srce, odseku noge, a celo telo kao da utrne i parališe se?  Glas se izgubi, postane piskav, plitak i drhtav. Glava prazna, a misli toliko preplavljujuće da postaju neuhvatljive. Kao neko haotično zujanje pčela. Imate utisak da ćete se srušiti, povratiti, ljulja vam se tlo pod nogama, dlanovi se znoje, ruke tresu... Čitava panika se dešava u vama, a spolja se baš ništa nije promenilo. Ista osoba ili osobe stoje ispred vas, sa istim izrazom lica kao i pre samo pola sekunde koja je vama trajala večno. Za njih je sve isto, oni ni ne znaju za agoniju koja se u vama odvija, dok se vama čini da se ceo svet obrušio na vaša leđa. Ta trema i strah od javnog nastupa se ne moraju javljati samo kada treba da izađete pred grupu ljudi koja od vas ima neka "očekivanja". Ovi parališući osećaji se mogu dešavati i pred samo jednom osobom, čak i virtuelnom.  Zašto je to tako? Znate, kao mala, želela sam da ...

Govorili su nam i učili nas da budemo poslušni i dobri. Ne znam da li su nam ikada objasnili šta to zapravo znači. Imam utisak da smo mi, kao deca, učeći na primerima svojih najbližih, a kasnije i društva kao takvog, najčešće shvatali da biti dobar znači činiti usluge drugima unatoč sebe, samo davati, a nikako tražiti i primiti, ćutati i trpeti pred sudbinom života, jer je to ono čemu smo najčešće svedočili, a što se i od nas tražilo . Često i pod pretnjama batinama, kaznama i zabranama, što je u nekima od nas zasadilo zrno samoosude, krivice i neprihvaćenosti.  Kao da su mučeništvo i trpljenje neki vid uzvišenosti i zahvalnosti.  Jer, ako se buniš - onda si nezahvalan, a ako si nezahvalan - onda ne valjaš. Tako nekako... Ipak, celim svojim bićem verujem da je ono što su hteli reći zapravo bilo "Poštuj druge i čini dobra dela", samo što iz sopstvenih zbunjenosti i strahova nisu umeli svoju dobru nameru da pretoče u prave reči - i tu nema mesta zamerkama.  Ne znam za vas, ...