Monday, October 19, 2015

Weekend retreat

The lands that raised me.
As a child I used to wander the valley of the Arieş with family and friends for short weekend getaways... but I have not been back to this region for many, many years.

(sorry about the crappy quality phone shot; I never know where to look at these things)

We go way back with this beautiful soul.
We met in kindergarten and have been friends ever since. It's true, there was a time when life drew us apart, but friendships encrypted in our hearts and souls can never be erased, they are the kind that are there to stay.
So when she asked me if I would be interested to accompany her on a weekend yoga retreat, I immediately said yes. It was a very intense period, filled with long meditations and intense yoga sessions. The nature around is so breathtakingly beautiful (well, such is the whole of Transylvania, if I do say so myself), that it calms you just by looking at it, breathing in the fresh, unpolluted autumn air. Oh how dear autumn is to me, I can hardly find words to express it. Especially October. There is something so magical about this month... There is so much polarity in it.

(we tried taking a proper photo, but Buck was not too keen on the idea) 

I met many wonderful human beings over the weekend (and needless to say, I made furry friends as well, as I always do), having been inspired by their goodness of heart, and by their positive and negative sides alike. The blond babe and I, we were born on the very same day, merely a few hours apart, so we share many of the same habits, likes, dos and don'ts. And we both find joy in silence, and observing others patiently, imagining their lives, reading between their lines and finding the truth behind the person they are aiming to portray in the attempt of visualizing the person that deep down in their hearts they wish to be. This weekend was incredibly interesting to the silent observer in me and at times it was nice to share my thoughts with someone who was secretly doing the same thing.

I love these hay stacks.
They remind me of my grandfather. I was merely a couple years old, and whenever I saw one of these, my parents later told me, I used to point to them, smile and repeat "tata", which translates as granddaddy from Hungarian. He was my hero. A simple man, leading a very simple life, treated the land with immeasurable respect and love and had put up gracefully with a very draining woman as a wife.

I love this land with its picturesque mountains, deep rivers and calm valleys, where the calculated mess we call civilization seems to have delayed its entry, where nature is still wild and free. It grounds me and frees me in the very same time.

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