the move

Went home. Budapest was as always, lovely and hot like an oven, full with tourists and visitors of Sziget Festival.

Went home. Went to a wedding of a friend. Was beautiful, and I was so goofy, I was late from the ceremony in the church (I thought it would start later), but I saw the kiss, and the baptizing of their sweet son. I apologized, and was a lovely afternoon and evening surrounded by mostly unknown people. Still enjoyed. Still danced. I love to know new people. How lucky I am.

Went home. Helped my mom to move, was full with ups and downs with emotional swings but at the end it was good, awesome, wouldn’t have done anything differently. I feel lucky, and I feel deeply grateful for having the mom I have (dad included, but now our story was more on the spotlight).
Because, I decided to go home. Some months ago decided to spend a long week of holidays in Budapest. Then I was told my mom has to move. And accidentally, quite literally as it was preceded by some accidents 6-7 weeks before the move, she could not move earlier. Was so hard. And was so good. She couldn’t pack. Mostly. Still, we did it. We. And in the middle of the things, also dealing with my own life’s issues, I realized something very important. I was no longer the kid who needs her mom to look after her. I was the adult, the young (okay, not SO young) woman, her daughter, who came home to help in the need, sharing good times, laughter and tears as well, changing worries and fears; inhabiting and grounding fully my adulthood… it was, it is so beautiful.  Womanhood. Pure dark and light, full moon and new moon, low tide and high tide, changing seasons. Learning our new ways, and – appreciating each other’s choices, lives. Sharing with and accepting strength from each other. We are so different. And we are so similar. But we are so different inside.

Went home and helped my mom move. The first few days I had doubts we can do it, I was so worried I almost forget to smile. And of course, my own life can trouble me enough sometimes. Periodically. At one moment, just 2-3 days before the first set of boxes and furniture was moved, she felt so bad driving the car full with my stock house boxes in 40 degrees that she had to pull over from the way, get out from the car and lie down on the street. She couldn’t breath. And I couldn’t drive, as have no licence still (of course, if she’d let me, I’d have driven, could have done it). And then, support, allow the breath, the body, the guilt and focused concentration to find their ways home. She got much better the following day. Still, these were somewhat harder days than ever before. I hope we (she) won’t need to move again before long.

Went home and saw young people, wearing service clothes. White shirts. Men, women. One in the public transport system, another lady in a bank. I was stoned and surprised. Have never seen so carefully cleaned white shirts being worn out so much that they appear… grayish. These persons were so young. And obviously they worked for a company – would the company provide the clothes? I have no idea. I felt so sad to witness such poverty. Oh yes, there are much more, of course, and all the immigrants who escape from war zones and try to flea to the EU through Hungary… I know. But seeing these youngsters (the lady was married, I guess, also having festival tickets as bracelets around her wrist, and otherwise nice rings), and the guy with that heavily carried back he showed me walking upward on the mechanic stairs from the metro.. my heart squeezed. He was not the only one with hooked posture, there were many more, young and not so young, I had to remind myself time to time to keep my posture straight. And breath. And my heart squeezed. I am so lucky. And so free. At least, now. Gifts from God.

Went home (BUD), and come back home (BCN), changed my ticket to stay longer, to be able to leave with calmed heart and spirit, to help as much as I can, to leave the new flat in somewhat order, as much as possible. I also took 2 days to accomplish the next level of Craniosacral therapy, the Biodinamics I. Such an incredible healing technique. I love it. Can’t wait to work with it more! Gave treatments to my mom too, helped her a lot. I feel lucky (again). And grateful. What a gift. On my flight back today, I realized I don’t care about the money I spent to change my ticket. I feel blessed that I had this money to spend on such thing, and was able to do what felt right.

Went home, and after a long and incredibly hot period (38 degrees for weeks, hot continental weather), the rain started to fall. At first the same night, when we finished moving. Felt so refreshing, smelt so good. Then on Sunday, more rain came. So heavily like a monsoon. There was a moment of sharing joy, sharing freedom, standing outside in the rain, like little girls, panders, sharing this secret of how cool we both are on our own. It’s so good to have been able to share this. Maybe, finally, I grew up to be able to allow it, to let it happen, and be free. I don’t know. But I love my weird, sweet family. And love my mom.

heavy rain

.. and love rain.

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