The Traveling Yogi

observation

What’s in a name

Eleana Kouneli May 21, 2018

Gustave Moreau- Helen of Troy

Helen… (illuminated, bright). A name also claiming its roots in the ancient Greek word for moon ( σελήνη) and in Homeric times had added meaning as “the one who is the destroyer of ships”.

It’s all in a name, passed down from generation to generation. And we carry the Helens before us the ones who paved the way for us, the ones who’s names remain in the history books and the epic fables.

Helen fell in love with King Paris of Troy, causing the beginning of the Trojan War, as her husband Menelaus fought a bitter battle to take back his wife from the Trojans. Helen was known for her unmatched beauty, and grace. Throughout history women carrying this name are powerful, uniting and dividing figures; heroic women, strong women, conniving and beguiling women, and above all controversial women.

It is a name that was handed down to me from my grandmother Eleni. Through her I honor her name and her legacy, and all the other Helens past. We embody history in our given names; they give us character, identity and a cultural connection. Every year I celebrate this given name I aspire to live up to, as it brings with it the familial connection to my birthplace. Often times names are just passed down from grandparents to children in Greek culture; as a nod to lineage and family connection.

Today is a celebration of light.

Cheers.

What does your name say about you?

10 Things I love about Greek Summer

Eleana Kouneli May 15, 2018

It’s drawing near… the sun is getting warmer; the skies are bright blue and the air is crisp. Summer is just around the bend. Islands are preparing for the season after a long, harsh lonely winter. The fresh influx of tourists; will bring work and inevitably their income with them. A whole country relies on the summer season to sustain it since tourism is Greece’s biggest ally.

There are plenty of blog posts about summer in Greece. Too many to count, but the side that we locals get to see, the secret side is what keeps us coming back for those precious moments with friends near the sea.

Summer in Greece is not only concentrated on the islands of course; which is sometimes the only thing most visitors either get to or care to see. Athens is not a place to be avoided at all costs. The open air concerts, the festivals, the art, the bars, and the hustle and bustle of the beautiful magical Athenian summer night, can’t be described in words; it must be lived!

7.30am at Sweet Water Beach in Sfakia- Crete

Here is my list of 10 things that make a Greek summer complete.

Go to the beach early, and stay after sun down — always. (on those rare occasions that you sleep at a beach… wake up at dawn and take refreshing morning swim)
Go with friends, leave with more friends.
Eat at a small tavern, preferably overlooking the sea. Pick the small unassuming places not the ones featured in Conde Nast Traveler (sorry but it’s true).
The secret beaches are usually the best ones.
The secret beaches are the hardest to get to — for that exact same reason.
Leave your fucking mobile phone off and enjoy the sea, dive in, stay in and live in the moment.
Athens by night- The capital at summer time is the most beautiful sight to see especially from above… (I’ve featured a picture of this before but I’m going to do it again since I love this shot taken by a dear friend last summer. 7.b See some art, go to galleries, walk around the city and see some up and coming street artists. Go visit some of the theaters in Athens, and see some wonderful dance and theater at the Athens Festival , or go to a play in the ancient Greek theater of Epidaurous .
Leave your ideas of what you think Greece is at home, and come with an open mind, an open heart and a lot of extra free time, cause we do things slow and at our pace here; so don’t rush us. And above all make sure you see it with the guidance and the eyes of a local. You will miss a lot of you come and leave as a tourist.
Learn to listen… and use all your senses. The deafening sound of cicadas, on a hot summer day, the sound of the breeze at the top of a mountain overlooking the sea, the sound of coerce sand underneath your feet as you walk on the sea shore, the sound of seagulls flying along with you on a sailboat, the crackling of freshly caught fish on a grill, the taste of real sea salt over a sweet ripe tomato.
Last but not least. As much as it pains me to say this, and fight me on this particular part. Mykonos (even though I have a home there) especially between the months of July and August, is not Greece. As much as I love that place, summer transforms it into a virtually unrecognizable version of itself. It becomes what tourists want in order for the locals to make as much money off it as possible. Way too much of its market, is targeted towards rich tourists with absolutely no love or understanding for the island itself. Mykonos and Santorini are not the only islands of the Aegean. We have over 2600 of them, of which roughly 200 are inhabited! (dare to take a road less traveled). Explore smaller islands, with less amenities or five star hotels, or all in one spa treatments or expensive sailing boat trips or overpriced gourmet meals. Dare to go to places that are quiet, serene and not about how much money you spent on the same hotel that the Kardashians stayed in. Go on a sailboat and find out about the wonder of the Aegean sea through its secret alcoves and abandoned villages. Eat locally, buy from local shopkeepers and find ways to support the local economy.

Greece despite what the tourist, travel and lifestyle magazines tell you, has a lot more to offer than a western experience with a different language. It is a country with rich traditions and hidden treasures. Island hoping as glamorous as it sounds doesn’t benefit most local economies, and leaves the hotel owners richer and the locals much poorer. So if you want to really explore Greece this summer; visit it as a traveler not as a tourist, and you will experience a much richer country than you might think.

Words Matter

Eleana Kouneli May 10, 2018

Des mots faciles des mots fragiles
C’était trop beau

–Paroles Paroles by Alain Delon and Dalida

Choose your words wisely.

It’s a matter of principle, it’s a matter of how we see the world and how the world sees us. Even though so much of communication is non verbal; choosing the words we use carefully is of utmost importance. There is an art to knowing what to say and how to say it, and if need be not saying anything at all.

Words matter; they can hurt or they can heal. A lot is revealed by their tone, their phrasing their intent. The more I write, the more I share through both Greek and English; I’m often called upon to sharpen my pencil and my mind. One wrong word and the whole meaning is altered, the whole feel of what is meant to come through is derailed.

Sometimes silence is the only answer.

The words we use for and about others matter. How we describe others, how we talk about them, what energy we share through verbal communication is as sharp and affecting as any weapon. One word can uplift whereas another can dismantle and destroy. How we express ourselves matters; how we speak to others matters, and how we communicate matters, because as words go, lots can be lost in translation.

Words are slippery and deceiving and like little children need guidance and boundaries to thrive and shine on and off the page. Words have weight, they sting and jab, sooth and caress. Each syllable contains an energy; and knowing how to use that energy is as valuable as any amount of currency, because words are also currency.

Even though so much of communication is non verbal; choosing the words we use carefully is of utmost importance.

Recently I had an exchange with an old lover. I was very cautious about how I wanted to respond to his communication. The right words were not appearing to me in order to carefully convey what I wanted to say in response to his contact. I mulled over it for quite some time before I realized that any words I used were a waste of time, energy, and ultimately I would never properly convey verbally what I desperately wanted to say; so I said nothing. Sometimes keeping one’s words to oneself is the wisest choice.

Words matter, words are fragile and delicate and can bend and break after they have been uttered. Words mean nothing; and they mean everything, and sometimes there aren’t enough words to describe a feeling.

So sometimes silence is the only answer.

7 Hours Difference — A life

Eleana Kouneli May 4, 2018

-What time is it there ?

-2.35pm

-I never remember the time difference.

-7 hours difference, it has been my whole life.

Time zones have been a part of my daily life ever since I can remember. My mother would contact her relatives in the United States when we lived in Greece, long before social media of course, or even a steady phone line (for those who remember a time before smart phones). I would call my American grandmother (at great cost for international calls) once a month, and all other communication was with letter writing and post cards. (yes letters; remember those??)

At 14 my parents and I moved to the United States, where maintaining communication with friends and loved ones back in Greece was an exercise not only in keeping up with daily life, but also the Greek language. I distinctly recall my friend sending me spelling corrections in my letters to her when she would reply. (thanks Georgia after all those years).

At 23 I moved back to Athens, and communicated weekly with cell phones and regular calls and emails with my friends in London, Paris and the U.S. I would stay awake in the very late hours (12- 3am) to talk to my friends in New York, and try to catch up as best as we could with cheap international calling cards just to fill each other in on our lives.

Now back in New York with chats, Viber, Whats-app, Facebook messenger, Instagram, time is relative. Time difference almost doesn’t matter. I talk to my close friends after they have put their kids to bed. They stay up for a night cap and a quiet moment, and I text back and forth at 5 am in the morning with my cousins and best friends before I go to work. I live between two time zones, always carving time to connect, talk, share our lives whenever possible.

It’s somewhat easier to stay connected with technology on our side; but still that phone call once a week, once a month, or even once a day; happens between those seven hours difference. I feel like a double agent, calculating, managing time in a split world between the one I live here in New York and the one I live with my friends and family back in Greece. We steal moments from our present lives to share stories, gossip, news, family pictures, and most recently most of my writing here.

What time is it there? 5.30am–

What are you doing up that early??

Taking time to talk with you…

What time zone are you in?

The Persistence of Memory– Salvador Dali

New York City life

Liquid Courage

Eleana Kouneli May 3, 2018

You drew me to the water’s edge and let me taste your smile.

I laughed at all your silly moves, your stupid jokes just made me swoon,

The way you adjust your shirt, was magical to me.

I stare at our reflections wondering what radical world I live in that gets to have you in it.

I’m in too deep this strange mystique is making my body overflow.

Love is like a river flowing through me.

Paint brushed skies and lines. Bridges to your heart are paved with golden light.

I just might need a minute to breathe.

Like ivory and ebony you play my tune perfectly.

Something’s come over me… it’s making the broken parts seem whole again

once again I can see the beauty within me.

My body was made to be next to yours,

a pull so profound it’s like breathing.

You make my heart swell and my chest expand

and then I remember to take a breath again.

It’s like cheating death.

Uncategorized

Achilles Heel-(Αχίλλειος Πτέρνα) – Greek Version

Eleana Kouneli April 25, 2018

Καθρέπτες αντανακλούν σκοτεινά πρόσωπα που χάθηκαν σε απομονωμένες γωνίες και πονεμένες καρδιές

Ξεσκεπάζουν μυστικά και άβολες ματιές και χαμένες ευκαιρίες

Χείλη σφιχτά και κλεμμένες… τρομαγμένες ματιές

Κουρασμένα βλέμματα χάνονται σε φωτεινές οθόνες, εκτρέπουν, αποφεύγουν, απορρίπτουν.

Παίζουν το ρόλο ξανά σε μια παράσταση που κανείς δεν θέλει να δει.

Και το μόνο που βγαίνει είναι μια άφωνη κραυγή.

***

Πως μετράς μιαν αγάπη που σκίστηκε στα δύο;

Δημιουργήσαμε μια ιστορία που κατασπαράζεται με τη πρώτη ευκαιρία

Είναι ξεκάθαρο ότι σκόνταψα σε μια φαντασία

Ξανά.

***

Δε δέχομαι άντρα σε τιμή ευκαιρίας.

Δεν ακροβατώ πια μεταξύ φθοράς και αφθαρσίας

Μπροστά στην μετριότητα δεν στέκει το τέλειο αλλά η ουσία.

Δεν δίνω πια σημασία σε αυτά.

Πόσο θα αντάλλαζες τη βόλεψη σου για μιαν αγάπη αληθινή;

Μάλλον δε θα μάθεις ποτέ.

Η απορία παραμένει στεγνή.

My Achilles Heel (Αχίλλειος Πτέρνα)

Eleana Kouneli April 24, 2018

Αχίλλειος Πτέρνα (Achilles He(A)el) — photo by Robert V. (@3rd.night)

Reflections of faces getting caught in dark spaces, with wounded hearts.

Secrets revealed in awkward glances and lost chances.

Pursed lips, and stolen glances.

Tired eyes staring into illuminated screens, reflecting, deflecting, rejecting

playing the part in a show that no one cares to watch.

And all I want to do is scream.

***

How do you measure my love and then tear it apart?

I created a love story and it fell short from the start.

It seems clear that my imagination got the best of me

Again.

***

I no longer can settle for three forths of a man.

I can’t stand (on) mediocrity in the face of perfection.

That no longer holds my attention

Any more.

How much of your comfort would you give up for love?

I guess you will never find out.