or: Soma to Soma II
People call people like me “digital nomads”, when in fact I don’t regard myself as a nomad at all. I’m not a wanderlust- I’m just still in a quest, trying to find some rest to my restless mind, trying to alleviate the pain of chronic diseased life. sometimes there’s something powerful to words, that “disease” is expressing the dis-ease folded in it. but most of the times they just fool me to think that I can express myself fully. then I tend to hold on to the words, and forget that life is not the words, just those moments that I lose while trying to analytically refine my words in a false belief that like so I would be more accurate.
I don’t know why people become nomads or why they are so thirsty for the road. To be honest, I must admit- I personally do that because, as I said, I am restless, and after half a decade I’m still looking for a cure to my physical pain. It’s not that the idea of enlightenment is what caught me, or that I like the new age hippie ideal. It’s not that I’ve been strongly drawn to spiritualism or meditation or the well-liked-Osho-thing. It’s just that I found no relief in the modern health system, and through my search I stumbled upon the path, and now that I found it I will not, or do not want, to let it go. so I go on it, and like thus I became part of the moving caravan of dervishes, dancing the esoteric sacred dances. I never thought that I would be attracted to esoteric “modalities”, but somehow I found myself holding (or at least trying to hold) a daily practice of an esoteric tibetan buddhism somatic meditation. and somehow I found myself dancing the esoteric movements of that weird mr. Gurdjieff guy.
And when I try to see what others see in me- I understand why they perceive me as a hippie. Flying around the world after an indian teacher, claiming about myself that I do meditation, wandering about in Pyjama with unshaved armpits and hairy thighs. But really, what can I do else, how can I do else, if this is the path my life leads me to- and really- I can not understand that thing of the hair and why people are so obsessed with trimming it from some places, but then when I take it off off my scalp they react so strongly that I look like a sick person. Or from the jewish terminology- the world that I happen to come from- they say that I look like I just came out of a concentration camp.
I guess people don’t like to see the truth in front of their eyes if it’s painful. My pain is painful to me, but for other people to see my pain on me? no. you’de rather have your hair long and beautiful, as women are supposed to be, you rather not look sick as you really experience your life. to tell you the truth, I sometimes feel like I really am in a concentration camp- concentration of thoughts and concepts and self agony that I can’t seem to get myself out from, even after all this work of disidentifying from little “poor me” I’s.
This blog is called soma to soma because the stress is neither about the nomadness nor about earning a living online in the digital world. It is called soma cause I speak from my aching body and soul. I try to speak as I wish to be spoken to- honest, bare and naked, without the stupid masks of weird society rules and cultural tabus.
Soma, in the path that I’m learning to stride on, is the word for the body- not as we conceptually think about, but as it really is and as we slowly learn to experience when we do work with the body. and by “work” I do not mean the kind of time-waste we tend to do for hours a day to earn a living. by “work” I mean the intentional effort (some would say- intentional suffering) we put into matters of the soul, that moves us deep inside if we are honest enough to face ourself and others, without the deceptions and self-told comfortable lies.
It is called soma to soma, because from this trying-to-be-truthful place in me, I am trying to talk to this inner most place in you. not to say that I am not deceiving myself, or that my ego do not tell me nasty lies that I fall to believe in. but this blog is my effort in the general direction of shedding my masks to become bare, to be as human as possible, to your human heart and soul.
Gurdjieff says that man is not a Man (with capital M), he is a machine following blindly after his coded patterns and borders of self definition. In this patriarchal world I’m trying to achieve becoming more then a true Man – I am trying to become a true Woman. It is kind of confusing when this modern culture tells me how a woman should act, look, and dress. but hey, I believe in undressing them all anyway- the masks, the cloths, the concepts, the definitions, and the identifications with suffering little I’s.