....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 !!

In the midst of....

....integrating my week of study with Prof. Johan Gatlung, which happens to rank in the category of one of the most exhilarating and meaningful weeks of my life, Andrew and I got together for a couple of hours on Sunday. He had his 11 year son, Benjamin with him for the week-end, so the three of us met. We planned to meet at the Blaha Lujza ter at 2:30. Andrew was running a bit late, so Benjamin I got acquainted before he arrived. Benjamin speaks English so it was not too difficult, other than the normal awkwardness that comes with any first encounter. Our first thing to do together, was to stop at Mozarts Café for a dessert and to discuss the possibilities for the afternoon. Café ‘s are sprinkled throughout Budapest. They are a favorite place for Hungarians to gather. During the Russian regime they were discouraged, for fear that gatherings may lead to dissent, so many of them were closed or seating was replaced with stand-up tables only. The Hungarians have reclaimed their passion for these convenient places to sit, relax, enjoy one another’s company while indulging in one of their fabulous pastries, along with a great cup of espresso.
Given that we only had a couple of hours, since Benjamin needed to be on the Tram at 5:00, we were somewhat limited in our options. Benjamin wanted to see a movie, but there was not enough time. I suggested we visit Margaret Island, as I had not yet been there. I pass over the Island every day I am in town, but was saving my visit for when I had a good bit of time to fully explore it. Today seemed like a good day to at least get a taste of it. Plus, I imagined that it might be someplace that Benjamin would enjoy, as he had his roller board in tow. He settled and off we went.

(I know settling is not the best solution, but given our situation, it worked!).

Margaret (Margitsziget) Island is a beautiful little island in the middle of the Danube (Duna) River. It is a great place for people to gather together to enjoy nature, with large old shade trees, comfortable grassy areas for lounging , and pretty walkways lined with an array of blooming flowers. It is one of those public places where many different life forms converge, nurturing the soul of the City. A sacred space within the midst of a very large and bustling City, at that. There is a lot of activity on the Island, everything from jogging, walking, bicycling, peddle carts, tennis, sunbathing, football (soccer), playgrounds for the kids with swing sets, jungle bars, sandboxes, etc, roller boarding, thermal baths for soaking (much more on them later…they are quite a large part of the culture here) and plenty of opportunities to snack. Now that I have a better sense of the treasures that it holds, I will indeed go back, sooner than later. In fact, I have wanted to get in more exercise than just the walking that I do. Regular bicycle rides around the Island sounds like a great plan. I will check that out.

Here are pictures of some of the finer street art, done in the underpass on the way to the Island.

So, onto the Island we go. The Danube River is beautiful. Not as blue as it is referred to, but quite beautiful. After a walk across the bridge and onto the Island, it is not long before Benjamin spots a play ground to explore and then even better, a football game to join in. I am pleased that he is finding a way to get his needs for fun met, and welcome the opportunity to just hang out and get better acquainted with Andrew. Out of my curiosity and interest in connecting more to who he is and his life here in Budapest, I ask about Benjamin. Who by the way is quite a dear, delightful, precocious little guy who loves to read, has played the cello for 5 years and has a real eagerness for adventure. And most engaging of all, he has a real twinkle in his bright blue-eyes and seems to wear a smile quite naturally, even in the midst of disappointment. I enjoy his presence.

So with authentic interest, I ask about his life with Benjamin. My inquiry generates a willingness on Andrews part, to share with me his story. Later expressing some vulnerability, in that the depth of his sharing was unexpected. Not the “light-hearted Sunday afternoon in the park chat” he anticipated. And while I am able to appreciate those kinds of easy and playful connections, my inclination leans more towards deeper conversation. For better or worse, I am not at all surprised. Without going into a lot of detail, I will say that what I hear is difficult to take in. While I know that we all have our stories and that all stories are our own very personal interpretation of how things are/were, as a listener I found myself wanting to rewrite his story, as he is telling it. Rewriting it, because I do not enjoy the story he is telling. I have a hard time believing it. I am telling myself that surely it did not, could not have happened that way. It does not fit my idea(s) as to how life is. Not here in this wonderful new place I have just discovered.
Yes, I know about the oppressive Russian regime, and I have a very small inkling of an idea as to how horrific the German holocaust was, and that the Hungarians to some extent participated in that human atrocity. But to hear a story that indicates that the psychic underpinnings of that deep culture may still, in some form, exist is alarming. Briefly, Andrew, born in a Jewish family married a Hungarian woman. 21/2 years after Benjamin was born, he was told to leave his home, and that he was to have nothing to do with his child. As a father who dearly loved his boy, he refused to accept these demands, resulting in repeated acts of violence. Leading to multiple hospitalizations and repeated empty promises that “they would find out who did this and that justice would be served”. And while Andrew was quite sure who had assaulted him, never was he asked who it was, nor was anything ever done about it. Also, during that time, teaching positions that he held at the University were terminated. Court documents forged and any attempts he made for parental rights were denied. There evidently is a power structure based in the dark and not too distant past that remains in tact today.

As a tourist, this is more than I want to hear, especially from someone that I relate to.
And yet, what I appreciate about being here for 3 months, is that it is actually long enough to get a real sense of the place and the people that live here. So I say!

Fortunately, Benjamin returns, with a smile on his face, and surely it is time to move on.
As we gather our things and begin to walk back towards the Tram, I am relieved to be moving on. I let Andrew know that I am ready to go home and that perhaps we can get together later in the week. Maybe for a Pat Methany concert this Friday, July 4, when we can listen to music -that lifts the spirit, as we remember Independence day being celebrated in the States!

(No more conversations for a while..please).

So they go their way and I go mine. I get onto the tram, and then catch a bus that runs along the Danube River, on the Buda side, past the Parliament building. Getting on the bus or tram and just riding until in returns to my starting point is a favorite thing of mine to do. Effortless, mindless siteseeing. While enjoying seeing a new part of Budapest, I am tired and eventually find my way home. Into bed I flop, for a little early evening nap, before spending some time on my next blog entry about my journey to Austria, last week.

10 hours later I awaken, still heavy hearted. I imagine that if I am willing to stay present to the very uncomfortable feelings of yesterday, I will be able to re-connect with my self. That self that has so often refused to acknowledge the darker aspects of life. After all, I am a being of light, I crave the light. I have been blessed to manifest this love in the homes I have lived in, including here in Budapest. I am happiest in the light. And in reality, I live with a blindspot, a peripheral cut in my vision due to damage to my optic nerve from the brain abscess. The darkness is with me. I am imagining it has something to do with the development of a greater understanding of the nature of life.

Meanwhile, I am haunted by the metaphysical rap, that we create our reality, by where we place our attention. So, will I continue to chase the light, avoiding the ally ways, or be more willing to explore the dark places? I shall see.

While I have no illusions I am through with this material, perhaps now that I have honored and acknowledged it, I can return to the blog entry, in which I hope to be able to share the pure joy I felt as I experienced the most thrilling week, in the history of Abbey.

P.S.
Through sheer unyeilding passion and the death of Benjamins’ grandfather, some 5 years later, things have gotten easier for Andrew to be with his son. They are together every other week end and for a week in the summer. Their relationship is a very sweet and caring one. Andrew takes great pride in the fact that Benjamin knows very little of the trauma he has endured, in order to maintain their connection. From the love I feel between them, Benjamins' well-being is in tact, while Andrew continues to heal.

A few more photos:

Saturday night in Budapest, at Hero's Park, there was a free concert by Santana. There were thousands in attendance, with gigantic screens displayed in three different ares.

A woman after my own heart.

Lots of love to Sophie.

Oops, I got in my own way.....

Yesterday, for the first day after arriving in Budapest, I found myself out of sorts.
It started a day or so ago, when I was having to make a decision as to how I spent the Summer Solstice. I place special significance on the day, imagining that it is a turning point in the year, not only for the planet, but surely for me. So, how did I want to celebrate the event in the most meaningful way? One was the Goddess Festival solstice celebration and the other was a Fashion Show at the Kiscelli Museum, choreographed by a friend of Andrews. Without belaboring the point, I did neither. At 5:00 in the afternoon, after making a call to the US Embassy for some information, I was informed they were closed on week-ends. “But this is Friday….no, it is Saturday” Yikes, both of my Solstice choices begin at 6:00. Not only do I not feel like I can get ready, out the door and there on time, I have not a clue as to where either of them are. Yea, I do have addresses, but navigating the subway, into new areas of the City, feels like way more than what I can do……so, it appears as thou the decision has been made for me. When in reality it is clear to me, that it is my own hesitations/attitudes/reservations that keep me from a potentially delightful evening….which either one I chose. I suppose I am most regretting having missed the Fashion Show, mainly because I am conscious of how many stories I had going, about attending, plus I think it would have been fun. Andrew wanted me to meet his friends from Italy, along with the producer of the evening event. Already knowing my challenges in dealing with the disparity between my own feminine self image and my perception of the women of Hungary, not to mention a producer of a Fashion Show along with vibrant, creative geniuses from Italy!! If I went, surely I would be confronted with all of my “demons”, ones that have clung to me all of my life, having grown up with a father who loved woman for the way they made him feel about his own masculine nature and never feeling adequate in succeeding at doing much good in that area and a mother who was motherless from the age of 6, and had not a clue herself as to who she was as a woman. I blame neither of them; it was my choice, even before them I chose.


One of the workshops I attended at the Goddess Festival was on shame. We were told that it does not belong to us, but rather was given by someone else, and all we have to do is give it back. Oh, right! Just give it back..!! As if I have choice as to when I ‘shed my skin’, “drop my coat” or “emerge from the cocoon”, into the beautiful, fully liberated creature I have forever hoped myself to be!!!! So after all of the dancing and deep contemplation of the morning before, considering the possibility of “just giving it back”, here I was caught/stuck and thrown in on myself, ever so conscious of my edge.
Evidently, moving closer in on it, but not quite ready to make the leap!

I did get myself to the movies last night, after searching for an English speaking film. The only one I could find that fit the time frame was Maid of Honor. A silly little film of a man who finally realizes how much he loves the girl, only after he stands to loose her and has been asked to be her maid of honor. He comes to his senses, races into the wedding ceremony on a horse, to protest the marriage, declares his deep love and affection for her, gets the girl, they marry, and surely live happily ever after.
Without a clue as to how he manages long held fear of commitment and honesty!!
Oh well, maybe there is reason to have hope!! (I did say “silly little film didn’t I).


So, into the night I slept, tossing and turning, grieved, restless and even disappointed.

A bit more on the Festival, I did enjoy being with the woman, even thou almost none of them spoke English. Fortunately, the presenter did. There were a number of eye gazing, boundary setting exercises. Ways to connect with self and others, without words. I appreciated that. At one point it did become clear to me that as long as I stayed heart connected, I remained in some form of love, as soon as I went into my head, I felt fear. The other workshop I attended was on Chanting. I am ready to sing out….so I thought, until we were asked to sing our name. So after working our way around the circle, with all of the courage I could muster I sang out in the most timid and shy voice I have ever heard come out of my mouth, Abee. Meanwhile the rest of them had these wonderful long, multi syllabled, melodic names that they sang with great pride. Oh, oh, .where did I go?? Oops, just lost me. So, as we ran up and down the chakra system calling on all of the ancient ones, from Kali, Medusa, Peli, Hathor, Kuan Yin, Isis to the Divine Mother, we were encouraged to feel her presence. When does all of this become real, I ask? I was informed, when the student is ready!#!@# Oh well. Surely I will be ready, when I am ready.
By the way, we were encouraged to wear turquoise when speaking as it strengthens and empowers the throat chakra. Good for us that live in the SW, and have an arsenal of turquoise at our disposal.


And so here I am, Sunday morning, after having missed Saturday. I don't know what that means in the grand scheme of things. Surely the Solstice and all of the promise that it brings, will not overlook me, for having slipped into myself while in search for the ever changing evolving self that I am.


I am preparing for a journey out of Budapest, this afternoon. Eva has invited me to come visit her this week. She is attending classes at the European Center for Peace Studies in Stadtschlaining, Austria. This week the founder of the program will be presenting. According to Eva he is quite remarkable and well worth the journey. I will depart at 12:00PM and get there at 15:00. I am looking forward to the experience.

With more to share, later. Hugs to all of us.

the children and the shoes...

I seem to be relaxing into the use of my camera, so finally have some pictures to share.


Here are some of the little ones, many in the care of their grandparents. I took them all in one morning, while sitting and having coffee at my favorite cafe, on bus route #11, just down the sreet from where I live. Surely some of them are called; Anna, Katoria, Petra, Reka, Bence, Balaze, Levente or David.


And now, for those shoes...that I secretly long to wear, but have
not the courage to even try !




For some reason I have not yet felt comfortable taking pictures of the woman, "strutting their stuff". Perhaps in time.