Summer 2017


Small town scenes


What is different this summer, is me spending most of my time with the family, instead of the old friends. I found things have changed in the last few years, we chose different paths and different attitudes, and so naturally started to lack things in common. But I am always very happy to see my friends, even that the main topic we discuss each time are the memories of those naughty teens/early twenties, that, to be honest, bores me by now. Instead I rather listen to their complaints about breakfast buns suppliers that are not very nice, or lazy builders.

'Imagine! He asks me for ten euro today, saying he'll be back to finish the floor tomorrow morning first thing', with serious face tells today's story my friend. I don't comment, I just laugh, as I know what that means. I enjoy learning how my friends handle 'stuff', whatever that is.


Full moon shines on the lake's water, night's moisture is settling down in my nostrils, candles are burning in the open air, night's butterflies fly right into the flames and die, 

he can't take away his eyes from my sunkissed neck, chest bones and half open shoulders,

me, gently wrapped down from there in my very favourite oversized Paul Costello peach mohair jumper - my feathers,

can't shift the attention from such an impressive wordy expression that he had developed perfectly over the years.

When I tell him this, he laughs in low charming laugh which compliments his great body,

and as he tenderly touches my hand as a Thank You gesture, my knees become weak.

But the answer is No. Can't do that.


As the night rolls into its second half, we realise we don't have anywhere to go. Most of us are either gone to live somewhere else in the world or have young children, or those other ones, who wouldn't appreciate seeing college friends at their door step in the middle of the night. And because heavy summer's rain just passed by, so we can't go to hang out by the river, and all the places are closing down.

The last option is my friend's garage, where in the corner it is a little bar, with a bottle of Smirnoff vodka, four glasses, a few apples and a hand full of sweets. We sit in the car which yet has no wheels, but it's a cabrio and it's antique, has red leather saloon and that old-school toy, tiger, with its head on a spring, and so it moves from the slightest move, nods... on the front panel.

My friend finds some dry old hash for those who don't drink vodka, and the black and white Jim Jarmusch movie begins.

We talk a bit about politics in Lithuania, and then good old time parties, again. Also about the ends of love, for a moment or two, and I get pretty excited here, but my encouragement to discuss that further is silently turned down, for my suggested perspectives are 'too deep', my friends say. The interesting part is that they all 'in tuned' - they understand what, why, and how come, but choose not to talk about those kind of things. Ah, well. Fair enough. I sink into the back seat of red antique leather, loving three of them for what they are, feeling proud of myself being able to love them this way.


In the end of this night, I don't hug or kiss him goodbye. Is that because I don't want to leave myself with too small of the possibilities, or too good of the memories to live my lonely life by, as was suggested by my other friend day or two afterwards?

Not really, no. It's way simpler than that:

I don't mess around with not available man.


even though the mischief in me, five minutes later, feels sorry about not doing that. A goodbye hug and a kiss, I mean. Ten years we haven't met, sweet past lovers. So you know, it's just curious what that  h a s n 't  been feels like?

But no ram available for such game I have...



Three days later, I drive to the seaside same cool antique car, wearing daisy crown and Californian sunglasses: pink glass, white frame, metal handles white ends,

a kite, and a couple of yellow balloons that my little niece and two nephews have bounded to the boot of the car. Like in the movies, that's right! I've promised my friend a trip to Ireland for that...


The sky is full of white identical croissant shape clouds


I got words for this and the way it fits: it's all about the light and the sound around it

-Emily Wells 'Fair the Well the Requiem'


Briga Saulė.  InglėPgotography, Lithuania 2017

Briga Saulė. InglėPgotography, Lithuania 2017


Flags of Lithuania - on hats, bags, private houses, in public transport

WIZARD and MDMA number plates on the cars

Segways. Those to my eye still look very bizarre


In a trolleybus I went my essence with the fan I got in Portugal

Many elderly women in shovel hats, class


Middle aged man in a white crispy 'Bitch, I'm a Unicorn' tee-shirt. I wonder does he knows what that means, hehehe. As him and his lady are at the wedding, posing for the photographs. 


Divine pastries, quality art magazines

The greatest one coffee a day


Even grannies drink white coffee nowadays. We, departed ones, brought milk home from Europe: mostly Ireland and England.

(I am a big fan of symbolism, the accuracy of its messages makes me wow.)


The builders are taking a break, hanging around the entrance of the house they are currently working on. Their red helmets are matching red flowers that grow on the other side of the fence.


Factory chimneys pump clouds of white smoke into the Lithuanian skies

Lorries go go go via always been good Lithuanian highways

Seeing the amount of wood that leaves the country, is breaking my heart


My sister insists I accept a red thread on my wrist meaning protection from the 'bad eye'. Half of the country wears one nowadays. She says even Madonna has one, you know, the singer, the superstar; makes me laugh. She's a bit of a witch, sister of mine. I want to explain to her that negative people don't come my way anymore. But then I change my mind - I don't, not to hurt her feelings, as we say in Ireland; not to make look like the craft she's been scrupulously practising for the last few years is no of importance at all. I know she wants only good for me, so I accept the red thread, in my mind dedicating it to protection from the people with hardly manageable egos. 


The red thread sticks out of my bangles during the photo shoots, causing a photographer editing time...



Briga Saulė, 2017

Briga Saulė, 2017




Writing is nothing more than a guided dream.



Briga Saulė . InglėPhotography, Lithuania 2017

Briga Saulė. InglėPhotography, Lithuania 2017




I don't know where to start this summertime story. Perhaps from the starry sky with The Milky Way so clearly visible, just like you see in the photographs of Nasa. I even dragged the bed across the room straight under the attic window, for I could fall asleep watching the stars. Or should I start from hundred yellow butterflies that purely mesmerise my mind? They're everywhere: in a city, and twice as many in the countryside. They come so near that if I don't move and close my eyes, big chance they'd land on my eyelashes, or on my nose. They fly in pairs, most of the time, and love dance around me. I lie down in a meadow abundant with flowers - fragrance impossible to forget, impossible not to come back for more. Or perhaps I could start from the blueberries from the forest, for breakfast? Cherries in the afternoon, raspberries before dinner, and coffee from the bright red cup made of thick clay (so very authentical to Lithuania) in between. Or from potato pancakes with fresh sour cream and chives, for which I kiss and kiss my sister's hands? Or perhaps from a giant swimming pool in my nephew's backyards, a bunch of happy children in sunglasses and colourful hats, with balls, badminton rackets, inflatable ducks, and water guns that I have decided not to escape. If you could only hear the laughter that those children had when we, the adults, allowed to be thrown into the pool by them, and then were in a rush to get out, for watermelon of 10kg has arrived! I could also start from the summer's rain with lightning and thunder on early afternoon of the last day of July. I have insisted that the family women, five crazy witches, must get outside for a dance! Or perhaps from the swings that fit three, with blankets and cushions and cookies and tea. Also hammocks (I've noticed every house has one this summer) for their best to relax your hardworking back. I crawl into a hammock and imagine it's a cocoon, or a womb, and I feel calm and secure; I nurture myself into a vision of being born a yellow butterfly... and the night falls and the gnomes switch on solar lamps to highlight the path towards The Milky Way... through the garden of nocturnals flowers - purple night's eyes, and the smell of freshly cut grass... we cross paths with a hedgehog that goes for a bowl of milk to my aunt's doorstep each night... Should I mention the two dogs and a cat that cannot get enough of me? Oggi likes licking my eyes, how sweet and bizarre at the same time. He also sits on guard while I do my morning meditation and exercise. I could as well begin by telling you about the new family boy with the name 'Tainoras'  -that was constructed from two Lithuanian words meaning 'It's a Wish', which came true. And about the young lady, his mother, which treasures him same way we, family, treasure her, and each other; like the hedgehog treasures a bowl of milk at midnight... About a friend who cries on my shoulder just because she feels grateful we've met again... So much love around, so much magic, so many rewards. So much goodness at once only Lithuanian summer can give. And everything stays within 'here and now' day after day, night after night, and the only way out of here is out of the mind...


It's not that the sacred is here and the profane is over there. Everything is profane if you live on the surface of it, and everything is sacred if you go into the depths of it - even your sin.

-Richard Rohr


Briga Saulė, 2017

Briga Saulė, 2017


Life you can live, as if you are in a hypnosis

That is how 99% people live

Or you can live with intensity, awareness


If you live life with awareness

You mature

A Mature one, never dies

Because he will learn even through death

Even death is going to be an experience

To be intensively lived




Everything that is, is now

Everything that is alive is now alive

Now is the only time

The only eternity



(from MAN WITH NO EGO album 'Blinkers removed')


author unknown

author unknown


I'm gone to the faraway meadows for NOW




Care bear


I'd say most of us had a special love in the past. Back then, when we were young. Late teens, early twenties perhaps. But it varies for everyone, of course. I recall those days were so good, and we were lovely, but separate went our ways. We got different partners and lifestyles, we grew at a different pace. Rarely, but we got in touch. To find the kindest feelings were all there, to nurture without touch. We never tried to work anything else out of that. We knew it is too special what we have right now... different form, same great love...


... while he talks about breakfast buns and their suppliers, which are not very nice

I examine the postcard that arrived from Honolulu this morning... through a magnifying glass


that would be the only difference between us.


There is no such a thing as a relationship that doesn't continue. If you loved someone, that love is still there. Love is there.

Every relationship is the eternal relationship.

-Abraham Hicks


author unknown

author unknown



The only reason we don't open our hearts and minds to other people is that they trigger confusion in us that we don't feel brave enough or sane enough to deal with. To the degree that we look clearly and compassionately at ourselves, we feel confident and fearless about looking into someone else's eyes.


-Pema Chodron 



 - an official representing country abroad.



Theoretical displacement


At the premiere of recently made Lithuanian film I meet a Diplomat from the Lithuanian Embassy in Dublin. We talk about movies, about the level of theatre in schools, about immigration, political situation in Lithuania, and other bits. A lovely wee chat.

I share with him how I feel about the country I was born in. 'Because of the political movement that is happening in Lithuania right now (which is first attempts to unite people of Lithuania) that small groups of very decent leaders are doing, I feel inspired, and I kind of feel proud these are 'my people'' I tell him.

'Yes, yes, but it's a long way to go' he strikes half a smile.

'You should think about coming back' next he ads to be polite, or diplomatic, not that he means what he says very much, no signs of enthusiasm or deeper interest I spot in him, if you know what I mean.

'Don't come back to work for someone though, come back to create' he strikes second point and leaves me surprised. Oh yeah?

'I don't know, it's been 20 years since I left. Unless I take your position, it would help me to settle back easier. And You go create' I laugh. He is a young lad, well, younger than me anyway. Those do make me laugh!

'Nah' he laughs back...

His assistant (or bodyguard? hehehe) which stands next to him with his hands crossed all this time, says not a word. He doesn't trust me, I know his type. I'm just too smart, too brave, too gorgeous, too perfect altogether, and that annoys him, hehe

'Have you worked in any other country before Ireland?' I continue a lovely wee chat with the Diplomat.

'Yes, in London, good times' he replies.

'Do you prefer Ireland or UK?' I ask as I take glass of water from a waitress, nice gesture, I appreciate that.

'Well, Ireland is just a province of England' suddenly says the Diplomat.

I almost spit water back to the glass. Jeasus Christ. You must be joking, man! I step one foot backwards.

'Not exactly' I say. 'Ireland is NOT a province of England. And never was in a first place. Ireland is Ireland. And that's' what Ireland is' I correct the Diplomat. Looks like in three years here he didn't learn much.

'Go tell Ireland is a province of England to some Cork man' I laugh inside, but no, I don't verbalise that. I keep it to myself. I'm a Diplomat, in a way, here too, hehehe

I'll remember this (reasonably) funny encounter. And, I'm sure, the Diplomat will remember me, one leg Irish.


These days I laugh so much...



in a meanwhile on the other hand



Profane illumination


Nowadays I meet a good bunch of people that hold prestigious leading positions in areas like law, business and politics. I always thought of those people with deep respect, I thought they're dedicated, trustful leader of ours. I thought they're a bit more aware of a bigger picture (at least in the area they hold a significant role) I thought they have slightly more developed brain, so to say, compare to us, 'mortals'. Nicer manners and advanced speech, also the ability to listen and hear others. I thought they all had the idea which they follow with passion, and strong logical reasons if they need to defend it; no matter how silly it might sound, they'd have rational arguments to prove their vision might work, or, at least, come one step closer towards the common good. Those kinds of people took a man to the Moon, right?

But that is often not a case I'm figuring out nowadays. It seems they can leed us astray.

A lot of those leaders are possessed by their ego, some very stubborn, some 'down to the earth' a little too much. Some lack intelligence, some - knowledge, some have pretty low morals, believe it or not, some too aloof or detached. Sadly, not very often you meet a real lady or a gentleman. 

So how did they get to be in those prestigious position? 

They obviously do not struggle with 'being not good enough, hehehe


I feel disillusioned alright. 

'Same applies to the superstars' on top of it all laughs my friend. He says he's sure Leonardo Di Caprio has a little prick living in him, too.

We all humans I guess. But to hear Ireland is a province of England from a Diplomat? I cannot accept, sorry.


Pressure builds diamonds.


author unknown

author unknown






Glass bottle of ink

Patient. Ready. While I think

Pool of possible.


-Sharon Creech and Peter H. Reynolds


Public places, private dreams

part 2


The bus turns towards Limerick as the golden hour lands on Connacht. The golden farewell - I love it! Till next time. 

All possible ways the Universe is asking me what kind of life do I want now. It has been asking me this question already for a while. It has been asking since I finished the diary of Gratitude, which I wrote for two months, every evening. (This is a very powerful exercise, just so you know.) It helped me to make a shift (and pretty quickly) towards the desirable mindset, which is positivity. Positivity is a fuel that makes Law of Attraction work in your favour. It helps you to spot and catch the end of a thread that you've lost, and as you do so, it gets easier to walk. Anxiety drops, calmness slips in, self confidence awakens and joy begins to tickle you gently; you hear your soul talk again. Good signs start to appear everywhere you go, and night dreams validate them all. Synchronicities start happening making your heart sing. Some days you experience the sensation of walking a few inches uplifted from the ground. You start seeing beauty of flowers as it would be where you come from, and you're delighted to think this way. You stare at their colours till they make your eyes itch. You toast your opening vision and drink their aroma...

You say thanks to the skies in sign language that toddlers with Down Syndrome use to communicate, which you've learned from observing their mothers, one is your friend. Before you go to bed, in your friend's teenager daughter's bedroom you notice Fairy cards lying on a book shelf. You pull one out. Fairies ask: 'What kind of life do you want?'


'I can't make up my mind' I tell my other friend as we drive through Connemara. 'I don't know do I want to meet a man and settle in somewhere, as I think I miss having Home. Or do I want to figure out how to make money online, pack a bag, ONE, and start travelling. That is the reason I am holding with Dreams Come True diary.' I share with him pros and cons of a 'traveller' lifestyle from the experiences of my other two friends who already do that. He suggest first we get coffee and ice-cream...

We sit outside the coffee shop that really is a sitting room of ordinary people of Connemara trying to make a few bobs over summer to have warmer winter. In comfortable silence we stare at the lake, drifting boat and the mountains. 'Failte abhaile', I hear whispers of Connemara...


Renvyle Mussel Festival offers local artisans' market and seafood preparation workshops. Sunday lunch trad session played by young people , a bowl of very photogenic mussels with buttered scone and a glass of Guinness. What else could you possibly want? Makes me homesick being at home; I adore good old Ireland.


Close to Kylemore Abbey we get out to watch old Jaguar cars' show. 

Kylemore Abbey's little souvenir shop became a shopping centre with big restaurant. Public toilets and a car park, three times the original size. 


The sun reaches its peak. Connemara on the Sky Road keeps offering magical gifts...

To remember this day, I buy myself Merino wool Celtic scarf, colour green.


'I'd like to meet a man, we both work from home and travel as we please', I channel the thought as the bus turns for Cork...


The shoe that fits one person pinches another; there is no recipe for living that suits all cases.

-Carl G. Jung


author unknown

author unknown


Public places, private dreams

part 1


8:15am bus is an early bus alright. A man in his late 20ies is the last one to board. He takes a seat one row in front of me, on the other side of an aisle. I cannot help but notice the peonies that pillow created on the back of his head, also jeans and jumper he's wearing - just out of the dryer where they were left for three nights and days. First thing this young man does - drinks pint of milk out of a plastic bottle (in one go) deeply exhales, and for a few seconds sits still staring at the empty bottle of milk in his hands. And then he calls his mother, to tell that he made it. Into the bus, like. Irish comedy!


It's one of those rare mornings without the slightest wind. Even the horses are having a lie in the grass... I capture this allure in my memory for years to come. 


Charleville has one lovely coffee shop and a bakery. Ken's Chinese and Thai Cuisine. Ken's?!

People grow tulips in giant pots. Tulips grow happy three feet tall.


Everyone on the bus is attached to some kind of electronic device.

I drift into a lovely silence with a hindu legend I want to share...

... there is a hindu legend about a time when all humans were gods, but they abused that divinity. They so abused it that Brahma, the chief god, decided to take it away from them and hide it where they would never find it again.

Where to hide it became the big question. The lesser gods were called into council to consider this question: Where shall we hide humanity's divinity? The council said: 'We will bury humanity's divinity deep in the earth'. But Brahma said: 'No, that will not do; one day they dig down deep into the earth and will find it.' Then council said: 'We will sink their divinity into the deepest ocean.' Brahma replied: 'No, not there, for they will learn to dive into the deepest waters, and search the ocean bed and find it.' Then the lesser gods said: 'We will take it to the top of the highest mountain and hide it there.' But again Brahma replied: 'No, for eventually humans will climb every high mountain on earth; they will be sure some day to find it and take it up again.' So the lesser gods gave up and concluded: 'We do not know where to hide it, for it seems there is no place on the earth or in the sea that humans will not eventually reach.' Then Brahma said: 'Here is what we will do with humanity's divinity. We will hide it deep down in humans themselves; they will never think to look for it there.'


A girl patiently waits till her boyfriend has a sweet yawn, then she kisses him lovingly. 


'Exuberance is beauty' I notice tattoo on a man's next to me, arm. 


Look around you. Appreciate what you have. Nothing will be the same in a year.


author unknown

author unknown


(Toastmasters International, Cork)


Out of format


'What is art?' asks one toastmaster another.

'My sister-in-law took me to an art class one time. I was very shy there at first, but once I got over the shyness, I painted flowers on white board and was amazed how much pleasure it brought me...' a middle age lady shares her experience of art.

White board. Is called canvas, girl.

Resume: the lady likes art now, which to her means painting.

I feel bored.


Next, a young woman asks for a few words.

'Art is divided into three categories: music, art itself and drama' she starts. 'I begin with music as form of art, even that many argue against it...' And off she goes, explaining each mentioned type in details, ignoring the time keeper even after he rings the bell for the second time.

I bet she is a teacher. Full of goodness oat biscuit with no tea, type.


'We have time for one more opinion', announces leading toastmaster and I raise my hand. I find it too sad to hear how people distinguish themselves from the art.

'In the older days, art meant craft. But with the birth of individualism, art came to mean originality. Art is something we do, a verb. Art is the way we speak, the way we act, the way we play, work, the way we interact, the way we approach one another, the way we form relationships, the way we dress, decorate our space, the way we prepare tea, make love, the way we spend our time, and so on.

Art is the expression of our thoughts, emotions, intuitions and desires, but it is even more personal than that: it's about sharing the way we experience the world, which for many is an extension of personality. Art is about representation. Which means self expresion. Or, as Frederico Fellini, one of my favourite movie directors, said once: 'Art is autobiography'. For me art is nothing more and nothing less than the creative ability to express an understanding of some aspect of private or public life, like love, joy, conflict, fear, or pain. The power of art lies within the feeling that triggers our intellectual and emotional reflection. I always suggest art is communication of feelings.

On the other hand, I'd like to mention a concept of interpretation. Art is frequently associated with beauty, even that it's not always beautiful. It depends on the eye of beholder. Our perception of life in general reflects the way we judge all creations.

 Art is closely related to aesthetics, the philosophical study of beauty and taste. Taste is what defines and distinguish the artists. Good taste makes them successful. 

Thank you, and I wish you all the most delicious creations.'


This little speech earned me a cup of tea from a very good looking man, hehehe


I don't want to be liked.

I want to be myself.

-Nayyirah Waheed


Art or what?  author unknown

Art or what?

author unknown



This is the end, isn't it?

And you are here with me again, listening with me:

the sea no longer torments me; the self

I wish to be is the self I am.


-Louise Gluck, from 'Otis', Meadowlands


Freedom was always a big deal to me. When I was in my teenage years, I came across a quote saying that if you're not going to create life for yourself, someone will create life for you. In that moment I understood I must take control of my life's direction, otherwise I am in danger to end up living someone else's life, being so called 'victim of circumstances'. I was rebellious and smart enough to decide this is not going to happen, with the word Never attached. 'I am moving out of your house same day I finish the school. I am not going to live anyone's life but my own' I declared to my mother that time. And guess what. I never had. I never cried anyone's unhappy life, nor did things that one should only do himself. I didn't develop any loyalty to any group, or religion, or ideology, either.

Personal freedom wasn't a hard fight for me. Well, except from breaking free from fearing my own mother. I understood pretty early in life the power of honest communication, which, I still believe, is the most significant step towards freedom. I always liked speaking and made sure I am heard: at school and in a circle of friends. My family, to be honest, bored me to death. I couldn't possibly live lifestyle similar to theirs. 'You were five years of age when you told us you're going to live abroad and have a foreign man' my aunty once recalled. Unheard thing in communistic Lithuania times! How did I know that? Not sure, but some things I just know. Anyway, I was glad to (mentally) cut off from the tribe when I started to travel the world.

I never had a difficulty to say No. But I had to learn to say Yes more often, especially when it came to self-sabotaging situations, to them I was prone. I also learned to ask for help when in need; this little paradox enhanced my freedom well ahead. I started to establish my values, to discover who is that I am, what do I like and why. I read a lot, and started to speak out loud educating others how we must save the world. Pissed many off, but never apologised. Unconsciously manipulated, but never lied. That's how I cultivated the sense of responsibility, by standing up for my own truth.

In my early thirties I fell in love and began liberating myself on a different level. I was convinced in my own beauty inside and out, and I was inspired by it. I felt unique as I felt loved. My creativity flowered. I stopped caring what others think about me. I grasped the power of kindness, and freedom that is brought by joy. I remember walking one evening to an emergency unit across hospital's empty car park, holding his hand. 'I could die right here right now', I thought to myself, as I already had it all there was possible to have.

After he left, the road to freedom opened up even more wide - I came across freedom of mind. Freedom of mind is the ability to look beyond circumstances, wise people say. I had no choice but to release the past, was learning to forgive and forget people's flaws. I started to name things their true names. I was desperate to free myself from illusions before I start again. I cut ties with those who weren't in favour of me beginning to grow. I stopped drinking alcohol and eating meat, started to meditate. I realised that the Ego is not really a friend.

The biggest challenges were to surrender control, to accept things one can't change, and to let go of judgement. I had to accept life is fair, and there is no one ever to blame. I took two more words (besides blame) out of my vocabulary: entitled and deserve.

I was doing pretty well and so I felt proud of myself. I started to believe perhaps I can do it, I can create life I want (at that time my wishes were to get my own house and to leave a corporate job) and so I committed to change. I knew the road to absolute freedom will be long, though at this point there was no way back anymore. I started the journey through the things I feared, unpleasant, hidden deep things. I went all the way down the stairs and met the darkness eye to eye. 'I bet caterpillar screams from the pain before turning into butterfly' I contemplated to a wise friend. What I learned here were two things. One - there is always the light in the end of a tunnel. And when you walk out into the light, you're free to build things you trust you're able to build. Thing number two - I understood we come to this life to experience things, so there is nothing really to lose. Whatever we to do, there are things to be gained. As I clarified these two points, my own identity started to take new meaning and form.

To take a direction, I had to figure out what's most important to me. I felt free being able to determine who is that I want to be. I started to dream mine, as writer's, perfect life, and took a commitment to actively work towards it. I left my home and a corporate job, and moved to a big city, hopeful. The possibilities in the city seemed endless. I was drunk with possibilities, and that was overwhelming. I had to choose carefully what jobs, projects and initiatives I was going to work on and focused my time and efforts there. All the knowledge and resources I've gained before the city, I had to put into practice. It weakened my knees. But the light in the end of a tunnel was integrity and self-honour. 

It is said freedom is about having control over three things: direction, schedule, and an income. Today, I am fully in control of my direction. And a little bit more in control of my schedule, compare to what it used to be. The job that I do allows me time space and creative freedom. It teaches me to negotiate and build a structure, to focus on solution rather than a problem. It prepares me to be a successful entrepreneur, I'm sure, so I can achieve control over my income. To be able to do what I want, when I want, and where I want is my ultimate goal.


As for today, glass of water is true freedom of mine.


If you have no time for something that is good for your soul, you've lost control of your life.

-Briga Saulė


Ian Moloney, 2017

Ian Moloney, 2017



Sometimes the hardest part of the journey is believing you're worthy of the trip.


-Glenn Beck


There are fundamental realities of being human that we must face.


Death - we all going to die.

There is no need to be afraid of death. There will be no pain. Most likely, you won't even fully understand you are dying. There will be the light that you will follow, it will bring you back Home. To your dearest souls and your good God. There you will rest, and when ready, come back to the planet Earth again. Many agree there is no death really; we only change forms as we travel along.

I watched my Granny die natural death. While we all were tearfully mourning beside her bed, she was making pleasant transition to the other realm. He face mimics illustrated the experience of great and delightful astonishment. While her eyeballs were moving to the sides under the closed lids, she smiled. I could easily read she was fascinated, and I was right. 'Grann, what do you see?' I whispered into her ear. She slightly opened her eyes to find herself surprised to see me. I'll never forget how comfortable she got with the sigh of me after those two seconds of disappointment lets say, when she understood she's still on the Earth. 'Who's there, Grann, please?' I leaned closer to her lips this time, in case I won't hear the answer, as she was slipping away again. 'My best friend, from the village... and... your Granddad...' she replied...


Ultimate aloneness - we were born as a single person housed in a solitary physical body.

Aloneness and loneliness are two different things. Loneliness is a lack, a feeling that something is missing, a pain, a depression, a need, an absence, incompleteness. Aloneness is presence, aliveness, joy of being, fullness, overflowing love. It is a state of you being complete. Nobody is needed, you are enough.

Love makes you complete. In true relationships you share with each other, not out of need, rather from your overflowing energy. 


Meaninglessness - our lives are inherently meaningless, unless we give them a meaning.

Having no meaning or significance, no purpose or reason - is man's worst nightmare. So if you know you're wasting your life, stop it. You're not a facer of reality, you're creator of reality. Perhaps creating life that you want to live could be your purpose?


Freedom - we are responsible for ourselves because we have a freedom of choice.

It's a big one. 

I often entangle myself in the philosophical discussion whether freedom of choice has a basis in reality or is an illusion. I have noticed people often find it hard to grasp what exactly the meaning of freedom is.

Freedom is the right (and ability) to choose whatever you want to do or have. By the way you choose you determine your own actions, reactions and further flow of your life. Not all choices could be reversed, so choose wisely. Choose according to what you want, what supports your vision of ideal Self and a lifestyle, not by how convenient the matter seems to look at that particular time, it will mess things up in a long run. Sometimes, you try to convince the world you had, or have, no choice about particular situation, and here you give your freedom away. You always have a choice. Always. 'Having no choice' situation translates to unwillingness (or inability) to accept personal responsibility for the choice you have made. No one can hinder someone's free will, that's the first Law of the Universe.


To avoid confronting these realities we frequently lie to ourselves, we create and live most absurd stories. From the existential point of view, we avoid givings of life.



'Maybe start naming things their true names?' I suggest my friend something to begin with, after he tells me he can't remember when was the last time he felt truly happy.

'But then my life will change' he scratches his head, surely afraid.

'But what if your life doesn't change?' I challenge him to be brave.


Huge difference between being happy at will, and chasing euphoric moments as an escape. One doesn't cost a dime, the other will tax your soul.

-T. F. Hodge


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