In honor of Hungary

I am feeling a bit rattled this morning. I did not sleep well. Magdi and I got together for dinner last night. It was good to see her. It has been a while. We met at a quaint little outdoor cafe, sweetly tucked away under a canopy of trees, in the midst of some pretty incredible architectural wonders. So very very romantic, for one that comes from a more austere region of the world. For the locals, this environment is just part of their lives, as they have always known it. A tasty salad, salmon crepes with a glass of wine, and then a cup of hot chocolate. Oh my, the very rich creamy chocolate drink was unlike any I have ever had. Quite wonderful. Surely I will have another, some day soon, now that I know of this delicacy. (a pondering; I’m intrigued with the notion that something as wonderful as this has been present all along, but not until I become aware of it, could I partake. How many treasures are just waiting to be discovered, enjoyed and fully welcomed into the life? And not even hidden, but rather treasures just waiting to be discovered and and enjoyed , because that’s what they were created for. That is their purpose, to provide pleasure. Some are even publicized, right there on the menu, ready to be ordered up. Ready to give and to be received. I will keep my eyes open, and in the meantime be grateful when someone helps by pointing them out to me and when appropriate,I will do the same.. . Thank you Magdi! )

So, here I am with Magdi, born and raised in Hungary, with deep ancestral roots in this land. And as you can imagine, I am eager to hear of her life story, as a native Hungarian. How has it been for her, living in the midst of such an important period in the life of Hungarian history ? (She lived in the USA for a number of years and teaches English, so we are able to have a thorough conversation.)

As we finished our meal and are sharing life stories, the topic of alcoholism comes up. I know it well, from my own family of origin, and I had heard it was a problem here in Hungary. Hungary ranks high on the list of European countries plagued with the illness along with depression and suicide. There is unhappiness in Hungary. What does she attribute it to? Hungary is finally a liberated country, free to create Her own future, so it seems, now that the Russians are gone. What is the burden? After having visited the Holocaust museum on Sunday, it is not difficult to imagine. Additionally, after having dipped into Hungarian history for the past two months, it is clear that the challenges Hungarians have had to deal with for a very long time, run deep. SHE has had a hard life, with many hundreds of years of having to defend her right for freedom and independence and respect. Unfortunately too many times, partnering up with the “wrong guy”. The guy who did not have her best interest in mind, but rather His own, self serving power seeking, domination driven interests. I am speaking of Austria, Germany and Russia. And yes, Turkey before that, although She did not choose Him. They all recognized something precious and valuable here and unfortunately She was all too willing to receive their “support” Undoubtedly with many regrets, having paid some very heavy prices for that “support”. (I recognize this story, feeling as though I have heard it before).

Sadness wells up, as I write this. As it did for Magdi as she tells a story of her family making their trip to Germany to visit family. They were allowed to travel outside of Hungary, once every 3 years. Her aunt invited them to come live with her. To move out of Hungary, and be free from the oppressive Communist government. . Her father declines the offer. And the sadness, I ask as I try to connect with Magi in her grief. .She shares how touched she was that her fathers love for his country, his homeland was so great that he would not abandon Her. This is where he and his family belonged. And there is sadness. Because with that deep seated commitment comes hardship, difficult and challenging times for himself and his family. And that hardship lives on today. Her father is an engineer, an educated man. He is in his mid 60's and is loosing his memory. Magdi is not sure whether it is a physiological condition or whether he no longer chooses to remember. She fears he has "given up, lost interest". The burden has gotten too heavy, and he needs to set it down. He has carried it long enough.

As we talked about the depression and the alcoholism, I asked about how people are getting help in dealing with their haunted past, in order to heal. Were there public programs available to help the masses process such unhealed wounds that lie not- so-dormant, within the psyche of the Hungarian people. She felt as though it was an inside job, one person at a time, while also hopeful that with each generation, the consciousness of the times, would serve as a healing agent. For now, she will do her own inner work and when waking up with nightmares, she will continue to let them go, affirming “they do not belong to her”. She is part of the generation that does have an opportunity to participate in the creation of a new life, here in Hungary. And today, the people struggle as they attempt to do so, with little clarity as to how to make such a major shift from one political system to another. It is as if they are still recovering from years of trauma, not quite ready to make necessary changes required in order to move into full potential. For those with vision, patience seems to run a bit thin, while the commitment and love for this place remains steady.



With the Holocaust experience fresh in my mind, having just visited the Museum I asked what her understanding was regarding Hungary's' role in the genocide. Since my journey thru that dreadful time in human history, I have had many questions. How could the Hungarians have participated in the demise of so many hundreds of thousands of innocent individuals, Jewish Romas-Gypsy and homosexual? One third of the millions of the victims were either Hungarian citizens or deported from Hungary. Many of these crimes were committed by Hungarians themselves, who were part of the political and intellectual elite, social and professional organizations. I found myself taking a second look at the people of Hungary. There were so many stories told of the involvement of the Hungarian Arrow Cross regime, and their participation in the utter atrocities committed against their own people, people who they had lived and worked and played with for many generations. And the churches, who turned their back on these people, all children of God. And the “innocent by standers” who allowed their neighbors, friends, colleagues to be deported off to concentration camps to be tortured, brutally used for so called medical experimentation, forced into slave labor camps and eventually murdered in masses? How could they possibly have supported a government, committing such horrific acts as that of Hitler and his followers, Hungarian, Austrian and German?? How could it happen ?

(Unable to fully comprehend it all, unfortunately, as is often the case when in such a predicament, I leaned towards drawing a conclusion. A conclusion which fell within the realm of good and bad, right and wrong. In do so, there is no question which camp Hitler belonged to. But, what about the Hungarian people. The people of this country I have enjoyed living in the midst of for the past two months. Where do they fit, in my simplistic, naive, self-protecting storyline. Yes, I am rattled.

Since being here, I have had the real pleasure of developing relationships with both Andrew, whose Jewish grandfather left Hungary to live in the USA, and Magdi a native Hungarian. Obviously, each having very different history's here. Both carrying wounds of their ancestry, as they are products of their past, as we all are. I care for them both. I feel a deep connection with them. And, as I bear witness to the realities they are part of, I am confronted with my attempts to ease the pain as I try o reconcile the two.


As Magdi and I continued our conversation, she talked about the guilt that the Hungarian people carry regarding their contribution to the Holocaust and the incredible amount of fear they felt as they lived with the brutal, life threatening intimidation f the Nazi's.
The Jewish themselves felt some of the same, as the question would arise, did they resist, at the risk of creating greater harm or did they comply. The Zionists resisted, often generating criticism from their own. Comply, as I use the word, I feel a heavy dread sweep over me.

My paradigm does not serve me and I am willing to set it down and open my heart to embracing the fullness of the Story.



I recently heard that Mother Mary is the Patron Saint here. I certainly have felt Her presence, from the beginning of my visit, as I have explored the feminine in the many different aspects. Starting out with the video describing the ecological state of affairs on planet earth, to my curiosity with the women, and their high heeled shoes and exposed cleavages, to the multitude of young ones helping to repopulate this country, to the celebration of the Goddess at the Festival, to the luscious hot baths, the quiet dark places of a low burning flame, and the playful, all embracing rain; all so deliciously feminine. SHE has been most present and available to me, while here. So as I heard of the Mothers prominent role in the culture here, I was not at all surprised. And a real sense of peace came over me. Peace in knowing that in the midst of such a time of transition, the country is well cared for and loved. And just as Magdi''s father has a great love for his country, this country has a great love for Her people and with that love, the much needed healing of the past surely will take place and the Hungarians will flourish into their fullness and there will be reason to celebrate, not only for them but for the entire European community they are an honorable part of. I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to experience Her in this particular place and time.

a pilgrimage

A couple of nights before leaving for Budapest, Juli and I attended an evening event with Latif Bolat, a Sufi musician and storyteller.
Somehow it came up in conversation, that I was going to be spending the next three months in Budapest, at which point Latif enthusiastically encouraged me to be sure to stop by and meet Gul Baba, and while there "please give him his love". I have always felt a kinship with the Sufis, not really understanding why. Suspecting that it probably has something to do with a past life. Don't know? But I certainly welcomed the opportunity to meet this highly respected and much loved spiritual leader of the Bektashi derwish order, right here in his region of the world. Somehow it all felt very auspicious and certainly something I looked forward to. Finally, a truley authentic Sufi experience. Maybe I will even get to whirl!


As you know, I have already visited the Turkish Ruddas Bath a number of times now, and continue to enjoy them. Patiently though, I was reserving my visit to meet Gul Baba for just the right time. I knew it was going to be a significant visit and I wanted to make sure I did not rush into it prematurely. Meanwhile, as my weeks unfolded I began to get some perspective on this country, this place and its people. I started becoming familiar with its history. And sure enough, a history which included the rulership of the Ottoman Empire for 150 years, back –in the 1500’s. That was up until when they attempted to over take Vienna, and were defeated by the Hapsburgs. At which point the Austria Empire began to move in and take control of Hungary, forcing the Turks out of the country. As a Christian regime, there was a thorough cleansing of that which represented the Muslims including the destruction of all Mosques, many bridges and fountains. The Ruddas Baths survived the demolition, being the first of a very long and highly valued and much enjoyed tradition here in Budapest. The Turks contributed a great deal to the culture of Hungary, introducing many new trades, including tayloring, leather and tin smithing, and new techniques for tanning. And not to forget that most treasured spice, no Hungary kitchen would dare be without, paprika! (I am suspicious that there is a deeply esoteric connection between New Mexico and Hungary and even Turkey, and it is in that red hot spice that neither would we want to be without!).

So, onto the website I go, hoping to find my way to Gul Baba, “Father of the Rose”, representing the beauty and purity of his heart. As I googled, much to my chagrin, I discovered that the wise man was actually bigger than life, and that in order to meet with him,
I would need to visit his turbe (tome), where he has been laid to rest since 1541. With a quite lovely bronze statue made in his likeness and

the six sided mausoleum memorializing his life, visitors are welcomed to pay him homage and sit in his presence for as long as one likes. In fact, as the northernmost sacred site for Muslims, many people of the faith do so, every year. I made my pilgrimage there and am happy I did.
And so while I was not able to actually meet with him in person, flesh to flesh, in my time of meditation I imagined that I did, actually leaving feeling quite satisfied with the visit. I did indeed give him Latifs warm regards and he responded in kind. I later emailed Latif, sharing of the message, along with some pictures. He replied with a note of appreciation, expressing his own desire to make the trip some day.

Don't be a spectator on this trip,

There is no death worse than just waiting around.

Set your heart on the heros's gold

and go.

-Rumi

the week that was with Johan Galtung.....

For a number of weeks now, in my mind and heart, I have carried this blog entry with me.Somewhat, patiently waiting for the right time to share it, encountering reservation, reluctance and resistance along the way. Meanwhile, I have done a good bit of journaling about this part of my adventure, including the downloading of pictures onto my blog site. I have been perplexed by the hesitation, while contemplating the meaning of it. Could this seemingly significant experience possibly have been a figment of my I imagination? Or could it be more about a creative process in which a new life is requiring needed privacy in order to gestate into the fullness that it holds the promise of becoming? Today, I am going to take time to capture, to the best of my ability, my days in Austria, June 23rd-27th 2008, honoring its passage in my life, while continuing to respect its autonomy.

So, here we go.
On June 20, Eva called and asked if I was interested in visiting her at the college she was attending, for summer school; The European University Center for Peace Studies, in Stadschlaining, Austria. They welcome visitors and she was happy to accommodate a roommate for the week. I asked her if there were any programs she recommended highly enough, to warrant the trip. While I welcomed the opportunity to see the countryside, I was still quite protective of my time here in Budapest. I was not too interested in leaving anytime soon! She informed me that they were all good, but that beginning on Monday, June 24th, one of the founders of the program would be providing the instruction. “He is controversial” she warned, “but quite intelligent.” Not one to shy away from “heavy-weights”, actually quite attracted to them, my interest had been piqued and with my readiness intact, I started packing. Just two days and a three hour train trip away, and I would be there. Sunday afternoon I set out for the train station, which actually was quite an experience. Hungarians are not any more enthusiastic about speaking English, than the French. That is not to say they are unwilling, especially if they have any interest in our language. I am sure that as a predominantly English speaking country, we in the USA could be experienced similarly. Here, though they are burdened with the expectation that they speak at least some English! The Hungarians have been told what they should do, for a very long time. I take no offense to any indignation they may carry. And, finding someone that was able to help me in purchasing a train ticket, in order to get to a town I had not a clue as to how to pronounce, was a real challenge. Somehow, with a piece of paper in hand, with my destination written in my very best hand writing, I achieved my goal, and onto the train I went. Later discovering that I had actually purchased a one way ticket, rather than the round trip one I had intended. Oh well, I was well on my way.

Eva and her new friends from Africa greeted me at the train station. First, off to the grocery store, to shop for the week. Yikes, still an overwhelming experience, with so many unidentifiable labels. This was clearly going to be a fruit and vegetable week, with lots of salads. And then, onto the college, some 30 km down the road. During the 40 minute ride, I sat in the back seat with two of the woman. One was a Sister from Uganda, and the other a mediator from Zimbabwe.
They were quite eager to respond to my infinite curiosities, regarding life in their countries. The Sister works in an orphanage, taking care of children who have lost their parents to warfare. The other woman works in a reconciliation program. I asked about the HIV epidemic in Africa, and was told that it is in fact on the decline and that the biggest health concern today is malaria. I was touched by the conversation and felt an ongoing connection with them, thru out the week.

The train station was actually in Hungary, so that we had to cross the Austrian border in order to get to the college. . Crossing into Austria, the concrete barbed-wired border remains, lifeless and unpatrolled. I found myself thinking of the street artists, imaging what a great place this would be for them to declare themselves and celebrate their independence. Finally, after arriving, unpacking our groceries into a ‘filled to the brim’ refrigerator shared by 5 students, getting situated in the room and washing up, it was time to go to bed. There was a big week ahead.

I am now going to move forward to the journal entries I have written since returning home to Budapest. They actually begin a couple of days after returning from Austria and with great enthusiasm I write;

“Back, after one of the most exhilarating weeks of my life! It has been two days since returning to Budapest and I am still reeling from the experience. I have put off writing, in hopes that all that I took in would somehow calm down and I would find the means of sharing the fullness of the experience in a coherent manner. And yet as the days unfold, I remain as stimulated as the days before.”

-so, onto the week that was; and into the classroom with Professor Johan Galtung, self identified as the resource person, rather than teacher. From Oslo Norway. Prof. Galtung is considered to be one of the founding figures in the academic discipline of Peace Studies, having written and published an infinite number of articles and books on the subject. For over the past 50 years, he has taught in Universities and meditated conflict throughout the world. (for more http://www.rightlivelihood.org/galtung.html ) In addition to his illustrious academic career and vast range of experiences, as a long time practitioner of Buddhism, his understanding of peace runs deep. I found the combination of his fine intellect and expansive consciousness quite frankly, mind blowing. Thru-out the entire week, I felt to be in the presence of a great being, with the capacity and willingness to share deeply and compassionately the full range of his knowledge and wisdom. Never before has my mind and all of its interests concerning global issues been addressed so fully. And my heart burst open from the rich and overflowing generosity of this peace maker.

Having committed my life to more fully comprehending my divine nature, I have for the most part, overlooked the realities of this world, in which I live. And while harboring a desire for greater understanding of the rich complexities within it, it has seem to have alluded me.

As a traveler, I find my greatest sense of meaning in the journey. . It is here that I experience the fullness of life. It is here that magic happens. It is when traveling that I come face to face with life. It is when traveling that I connect with my larger self, and I love it. Even in the midst of the languages barriers, even in the midst of learning new territory and all of the awkwardness’s that come with it, I feel most alive in this place, out on the edge.

So here I am in Dr. Galtungs’ classroom, in the presence of 40 some students from all over the world, traveling with them into their homelands of Ireland, England, France, Italy, Norway, Austria, Japan, Afghanistan, Uganda, Zimbabwe, Turkey, Albania, Canada, USA, Australia, addressing specific conflicts. What an incredible journey , as each student spoke of situations in their own country, situations that are touching them and their loved ones, quite personally.

Galtung discussed deep culture and deep structure, as major contributing factors in the wide range of conflict as it manifests. I had planned to share so much more about this theory, but have decided not to, other than to say that the "Manifest Destiny" that we as Americans hold firm to, appears to contribute greatly to our own deep culture. Unexplored, wrecking havoc.

He began his career as a peacemaker at the age of 12, when he witnessed his father being taken away to a Nazi concentration camp. Throughout his fathers’ incarceration, he continually encouraged the other detainees that the war would soon end and that they would eventually be freed. When asked what made him so sure, he replied,” because Hitler does not know when to stop. His insatiable hunger for power would be his demise." An aspect of deep culture that continues to create great violence, personally and globally. Prof. Galtungs' father did survive the holocaust, unlike millions less fortunate.


In Johans late teens, as an activist, he spent 6 months in jail, after insisting that his social service, in lieu of military service, be done in the area of peace works. From then on he has committed his life to civic duty in pursuit of peace. His commitment runs deep and thorough.

For four full days, we roamed the world, moving from the depths of genetics to the human psyche into social and cultural beliefs and values to the far reaching manifestations of acts of violence and into the means in which to reconcile the past, embrace a more peaceful presence and cultivate a more life supporting future. Quite a vast range of territory we covered. No wonder my mind was blown and my heart was overwhelmed with enthusiasm which comes with greaeter understanding and hope.

As one would expect, he had quite a good bit to say of the US Empire, as he called it. He and his wife have lived in the United States a good bit, continuing to have a residence there. And while he is able to recognize the contributions that the USA does have to offer the world, he is quite confident that we are rapidly moving towards our own demise which according to him has been in the making for quite some time. And while Evil Empire was not part of his vernacular he made it perfectly clear just how misguided he believes the US government to be, particularly in its international relations. I, along with the other US patriots present, did our very best, not to take it personally, while the question continued to roam around in our minds as to what it is that we can do to participate in the intervention of such narcissistic, irresponsible behavior as demonstrated by our own government. Our government which is causing so much strife for individuals thru out the world. Howard Zinn doe a nice job of describing the US Empire in this little video: http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article20258.htm

I think I will stop here as my journey continues to unfold and I wish to stay current.



The classes at the EUPS are held in the Schlaining Castle, which dates back to 1271. In 1982 it became the home of the Institute for Peace Research. In 1987 the Peace University was created. Together the two programs presence in the castle reflects a commitment of moving from a "place of power and war, to the nurturing of a consciousness of peace". Once referred to as the castle for the devil is now known as the Castle for Peace.

Here are pictures of Stadtschlanining, Austria, very quaint and well manicured. It is the smallest university town in the world, with a pop. of 600.

I will not forget my week with Prof. Johan Galtung. He has surely sparked an even greadesire to contribute more fully to the healing of past wounds, while contributing to the cultivation of deeper life supporting connection.
The mystery lies in what form this passion will take. I do believe that with each desire comes the means for fulfillment. I am enjoying the journey there.

I will always be grateful to the Professor for the gift he has given me. Thank you Johan Galtung for sharing the fullness of your being. You are an inspiration to me and many others.

"Peace appeals to the hearts; studies to the brain. Both are needed, indeed indispensable. But equally indispensable is a valid link between brain and heart. And that, in a nutshell, is what peace studies and peace practice are all about."
Johan Galtung

...some catching up...

......while a part of me has been distracted by a blog entry I have been working on for the past two weeks, my journey continues to provide rich and delightful experiences.


Most recently;



I continue to shop at the Great Market Hall, discovering new treasures every time I go. Last week I had lunch there. I have not a clue as to what the name of the dish is, but it was a combination of beef, potatoes, carrots, onions and a good bit of paprika. Very tasty and certainly substantial enough to satisfy my hunger for many hours to come.
Then onto shopping. I discovered one vender who sold cream. What a find that was. They do not sell it in the supermarkets, only artificial coffee creamers. I was thrilled as I am enjoying my daily brew, and now especially so. That’s when I don’t walk down to my favorite coffee shop for a cup of cappuccino and a freshly baked pastry.





Which reminds me, last week on my way there, walking thru the neighborhood , I came upon the entrance to an establishment, with hours posted on the front gate. Reading only the numbers and nothing else, I suspected that it was a restaurant. Drawn with intrigue, I ventured into the courtyard. It was quite lovely, in its very simple, elegant way, with petunias in full bloom hanging from the lampposts amidst tables clothed in white finery, all surrounded by green hedges creating, a ‘secret garden’ like atmosphere. In no hurry to leave this sweet place anytime soon, I hoped to stay awhile, wishing to settle in with a fresh cup of coffee, a pastry and my journal. I asked, to make sure it would be Ok, as this is clearly not a place intended for the casual diner looking for a hide away to do some introspective writing. Being the only one there at the time, they seemed quite eager to welcome me. The waiter was quite attentive to my needs, watching from afar, careful not to interrupt. After about 40 minutes of sipping on my cappuccino, while playing in the realm of words, attempting to adequately capture more of my experience in Austria, my 'fresh out of the oven' blueberry strudel arrived. Ah my, how sweet She is! All is well. ………..

Wanting to capture the moment, I asked the waiter if I could take his picture. He agreed, proudly offering up the plate of goodies, as if that was my (ob)subject of interest.
Little did he know, that what I was really celebrating was his presence and the care I felt as he served me, doing so with such pride. As I prepared to leave, I attempted to express my gratitude, not sure he fully understood my appreciation. I can only hope so. The Vadrozsa Resturant has now been added to my list of hidden treasures, here in Budapest. I look forward to sharing it with someone special, before leaving, as clearly it is one of those kind of places. I wonder who it will be?



Speaking of my list of treasures, I returned to the Ruddas Bath yesterday. Tuesdays are reserved for ‘women only’, which until only recently, were we allowed in, at all ! I went, after shopping, which was later in the afternoon. After a good bit of walking, I felt nice and ready for a soothing soak. Identifyinng the tram or bus that will take me there, is still somewhat of a mystery. That is, one that does not require a lot of walking. Which I don’t mind, but with a grocery bag filled to the brim with fresh fruits, vegetables, cheese, yogurt, chicken, almonds, etc. I had hoped it would be much simpler. Like my initial visit there, I wandered for awhile before arriving. Giggling as I went, remembering that finding my way to the Sufi’s has always seemed to be a bit illusive..
As before, soon after arriving it is clear that any effort made in getting there, was well worth it. I love this place. It was 4:30 and this time filled with many, many woman, unlike the first time when I went earlier in the day, when there were much fewer bathers partaking of the hidden treasures the baths have to offer. As I am thinking about it, the early morning group seemed to be more of the local crowd, while tourists seem to visit in the later paart of the day. And, even with the masses and all of the enthusiastic chatter, there is an inner stillness easily accessible.






It comes quite natural, get really quiet there, as I dip from pool to pool under the domed stained glass ceiling, into the steam room, sauna room and then onto the resting beds, sinking even deeper into the experience. I can not really explain it, but somehow there is a sense of being home………... And, while the vessel was created for this sacred experience, over some 450 years ago and continues to serve so well, another precious aspect of the Ruddas Baths, is the present day shared experience of being with the other women, who appear to come ready to disrobe and walk freely in the presence of other woman shamelessly and free, liberated from the socially constructed garments which we came in with. Leaving them neatly folded in our changing rooms, ready to be reclaimed as we choose. While I am quick to relinquish mine, slowly but all too soon I retrieve mine back again. Surely there will be a number other opportunities to explore the possibility of shedding them for good. (not to worry, should I succeed in doing so, I will continue to dress appropriately!)

Sunday, I took a stroll downtown. I happened upon an outdoor concert in Szent Istvan’ Ver
(St. Stephen’s Square), in front of the Basilica, which is the largest church in Budapest.
(I will write much more of it in another blog as it has quite a history to tell, with many more pictures.) The public event was part of the ‘17th Summer Music Festival. It was an outdoor concert, with a number of chairs set up within a roped off area for assigned seating. These were mainly for the tourists ready and willing to pay to for the comfort of a plastic stacking chair, while the locals gathered all around the parameters, finding multiple means of getting comfortable, as we all settled in for an incredible performance by the Vac’ Symphony Orchestra. They performed multiple pieces by a number of European composers, including Bartok, Beethoven, Vivaldi, and Bach. The crisp evening air lent itself to quite a magical evening of rich entertainment. It was clear that this music, that was created here and has been performed here for hundreds of years, was at home here. This place is created for this music and this music is created for this place. I will bask in the beauty of the experience for some time to come, while seeking out additional opportunities to enjoy the pleasures of live music. Budapest is quite pleased and gracious in showcasing the best it has to offer. And as visitors we are blessed by it. Later this afternoon I plan to attend a concert by a 100 member Chamber Gypsy Orchestra. I am looking forward to that.



On Friday evening, Andrew and I attended a recital performed by a couple of youth choirs, who were in town for a European competition. We had the privilege of hearing the groups from Sweden and Ukraine. They were simply amazing. 20-30 very young voices all singing in perfect harmony, filling the cathedral with the purest of sounds. As my mind surrendered into the foreign languages, my heart continued to open even wider with each song they sang. Following each performance, came a much deserved applause, while I longed to linger in the silence that allows one to fully savor such sweetness. Andrew reminded me, we were at a performance, not a church service. Even though we were in a stunningly beautiful church, a place of worship, surrounded by the sounds of angelic beings, and I was praising God, it was a performance, to be applauded. OK, if you say so.





Yesterday, I went down to the train station to check on getting a ticket to Warsaw. There is an NVC training there that Eva is encouraging me to attend. I am happy to stay here, while also open to the opportunity to see another part of Europe. Plus spending 7 days with other practitioners of NVC in this part of the world is surely to be a meaningful experience.
So off I went, somewhat cautious about the task at hand, given my previous ticket purchasing experience. But, if I am to make the trip, it is better to buy the ticket sooner than later, in order to get best ticket prices. Actually, intending to just gather information, in order to determine the feasibility of such a trip, there I was in line, making my inquiry. When, what time and how much? Before I knew it the clerk returned to the window with printed tickets, informing me that there is no changing the tickets once they are issued, they can not be refunded, and if I don’t take these, surely the price will go up, as this is the last seat available for my specified time, at the discounted rate. I trust him and don’t think it is merely a sales tactic. With a long line behind me, satisfied with the price and open to the journey as it unfolds, I accept ! Leaving somewhat breathless. It all seem to happen so quickly and yet I am imagining that it has been planned all along. It was just that I was not informed of the details until now !

So off to Warszawa on the 26th of July, I go. As Eva continues to
open doors for me, I continue to come along on this magical journey.
Perfectly happy right now, thoroughly enjoying every step along the way, as I look forward to what lies ahead.

Until next time.

..how sweet She is.....

As I awakened this morning, rain came knocking on my window pane,

inviting me to come dance in her midst,

offering to shower me with her soft, soothing, gentle, sensuous self.

As I moved into the dance, unclothed and free,

I welcomed the fullness of "felt sense", of

orgasmic proportions.

How sweet She is!

....dipping into the divine.....

So what if

Some days I burn brighter than others,
and some days I just flicker,
and some days I worry that my light will go out…
and that I will no longer be seen,
nor will my absence be felt.

And I wonder, what then…

Surely it is not the worst thing that could happen…
not to be seen, or to be noticed when I am gone...
should my light go out, that is.

Will I cease to exist,
or will I just not be seen, or heard, or smelled or tasted or touched.

So what then ?
How bad could it be?

So what, if
I like dancing passionately in the fire.
So what, if
I like to burn hot in the flame,
So what, if
I like to sway gracefully with the wind, fully and free
and with each inhalation,
I like breathing as deeply and fully into being, as I possibly can.
and with each exhalation,
I like surrendering into what is

So what, if
I desire to transform my life with my presence,
enlightening as I go..

And So what if, my light goes out.

Does that mean, I never was, nor will be again?

So what then...…....... merely ashes to ashes, dust to dust?

Peace, be still and know that I AM.

Yesterday, I visited the Turkish Ruda baths. It was quite wonderful, as I dipped into the
sacred waters that have provided refuge and healing for the past 45o years.

O Beloved, look around.
You are not some local appearance

You are the bright blue sky,

the wine dark waters, a vast ocean!

The drowning place of a thousand little I's.

-Rumi

....into the lap of luxury..

In my last entry I wrote about my bright idea, to begin an exercise routine, bicycling around Margarit Island. Not a bad idea, it's just that my body cried out, "not so fast - how about tending to a few unmet nurture needs, first!". Ok, OK! So I dutifully searched out a pedicurist, which actually was no small task, thinking that my feet had done the greatest amount of work and most needed some additional care. Pedicures are usually a good place for an old fashion foot rub, So off I went. While the Hungarians don't seem to be as much into the massaging as I like, it did feel pretty good. However, after waking up a couple of mornings later, it became clear to me that there remained a few more physical needs waiting to be tended to. So, I decided this just might be the perfect day to explore one of those spas, that Budapest is so well known for. There are over 123 natural springs in the City, with 2 dozen plus thermal baths. Orginally used for medicinal purposes, they are now quite the gathering place, for both locals and tourists, of all shapes and forms. The temperatures can range anywhere from 86 to 104 F. The Communist's took over the baths when in power, with the City continuing to own them, making them quite affordable for anyone to attend.

So, with so many to choose from, and with my secret little shamefull love of luxury intact, where other to start, than the baths at the Gellert Hotel ?

It was there that into "her lap" I fell, fully embraced by wonderful, luscious, luxurious warm waters, hot waters, very very chilled waters, steamy waters, deep wavy waters, all preparing me for an incredible medical-massage (deep). Oh my goodness gracious. Now, at last my body was happy, getting all of the pampering I have longed and hoped for....and all for less than $30 US dolloars.

So, instead of staying the two hours I had intended, I ended up being there for 6, moving from showering to soaking to plunging to steaming to showering to soaking to sunning to swimming to sunning to plunging to soaking to deep massage to soaking to resting to water massage to soaking to showering to resting.....aaaaaah...where are we Toto?

Surely it is time to move on with the day. But only after making an agreement with self, that a weekly bath visit will indeed become a part of my routine. What routine there is. And with so many others spas to explore, it will be a real adventure.

Next week, I will visit the Turkish bath, just down the way. I am looking forward to that one.

Pictures to follow, I am sure.

On the way home, I came across the incredible Great Market Hall. It was built around the late 1800's. It is massive, with 4 floors of hundreds of venders. Everything from produce stands to butcher stalls, to a vast array of flowers, ice-cream stands, bakeries, snack bars, fish tanks with soon to be eaten creatures and plenty of tacky souvenir shops. Quite the rich experience one hopes to have in a market place. I know where I will be doing my shopping from now on.

Happy Inter dependence Day to all of you celebrating your freedom !!