Ok maybe that one year where everything everywhere went to shit (enter year here _______)
I firmly believe that despite the absolute shit show this year has been politically, economically, globally, environmentally and in every other category possible; 2018
didn’t suck.
I’m further convinced that we all have a small ( very small in some cases) take away list for the year that’s about to close. Not all things turned to shit and in many ways the ones that did were a blessing in disguise.
Small gifts list of 2018
Care of Self
The discovery of taking (better) care of self. Not the “self care” cliché but real, honest quiet moments while taking time to be focused only on one person and one moment in time. me in the present moment.
We all share countless moments with other people on a daily, hourly basis in big cities, never really spending a quiet moment in silence. 2018 was the year I sought this silence more than any other time. Quiet time for self reflection and meditation.
Quality not quantity
Spending time talking to, eating with, drinking with and discussing with people in real time, one on one. The idea of sharing a moment or series of moments with a new or old friend, a loved one, or a complete stranger, without distractions or entertainment. Creating Quality time.
Learning to listen
This year taught me a lot about listening, truly listening to others. I still have a lot of work to do on that front but I’m closer than last year. By no means do I believe this lesson is over, there is far more to learn.
Trusting my instructs
This year brought me situations and people that reinforced my trust in my instincts. Red flags? Saw them. Warnings? Listened to them. Signs? Observed them. Lessons? Learned them.
Lastly, and as I’ve mentioned this in many of my past writings; The people and places I’ve visited connected me with friends who are still in my life one year later, from 1 to 35 years of creating a continuation of friendship and family. This idea of bonding and building true connection with those near and far, is constantly reinforced by the passing of time, not diminished or faded, and absolutely beautiful.
Looking back at the inception of this online writing platform 6 years ago; there was no predicting where it would take me. While reflecting upon the sixth consecutive year of writing online, I was reminded of my sixth anniversary living in New York. One absolutely undeniable thing I’ve realized about this city is :
New York doesn’t give a fuck what you think of her. (Sorry Sex and the City- New York is no boyfriend) Shes a badass, loudmouthed, Italian, Latino, black, Jewish, Irish, Dominican, African, Indian, Pakistani, Greek, Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Lebanese, Dominican, Puerto Rican, Jamaican, Korean, Russian, Romanian, Chilean, Israeli, Palestinian, Ukrainian, Brazilian, Armenian, Syrian (I could go on and on) and every other American Woman.
I realized early last year; January 2018 to be exact, that speaking my truth, expressing my writing and poetry honestly and conveying my point of view without reservations, is my greatest challenge and biggest goal for the years to come. (Yes I stole a little attitude from one of my writing heroes and badass traveler, advocate, explorer and all around truth teller Mr. Anthony Bourdain). For the first time after starting this writing project; I don’t give a fuck with people think. I’ve spent countless years, (as many women do) side stepping, avoiding, cleaning up, self editing in order to fit a particular mold or idea of how I should express myself publicly or privately. I’m not trying to grab or hold anyone’s attention. If you follow my writing and care to share your point of view with me, It is welcome. If you don’t care for what I’m writing about, and think its shit, make a valid point, and give your point of view.
On January 1st 2018, at about 6 am, on a very cold bright morning; It hit me: Nothing of who I am and what I’ve done so far with my life fits any ,constructs or ideas of what a woman my age living, loving creating, and writing in 2018 should be like, look like or act like. I was never one to submit to conformity. Whenever I tried to fit in, my life would always swerve away from it, one way or another. Should have been, should have had, should have accomplished, often slaps me around from time to time.
We all go through moments where we are faced with the stories other people like to tell about us. Inevitably as we get older (not necessarily wiser as I’ve come to discover), some of us find our own true voice, allowing us to be exactly who we want and can be. Others predictably, stay stuck within the confines of an identity formed by others, society, parents, or heritage; forming an idea of themselves with personas or masks that really don’t quite fit. More still never really take the risk to flourish into something far more beautiful and unique that may not quite fit the narrative we’ve been fed.
Time has shown me that spending more time alone, with myself has given me ample opportunities to really know who I am, shed any prét a porter personalities and embrace how I want to live my life. Yet every year that closes, I spend a few moments wondering what would have been if I took a different path.
The shoulds- A list
On the eve of a new year, I narrow down the list of shoulds that apply to where someone like me should be according to society, my own made up standards, and how very famously stated in Greece, according to what “people say”.
Here’s my top 5 so I don’t go to crazy down the rabbit hole.
1. I should have had kids by now. Well to be fair I almost did, and although I do think about that possibility often, I’m thankful everyday I decided against it. It’s been a strange feeling to know I came close.
2. I should have my own business by now. I did at some point and for a good 10 years, I did run my own business as a yoga teacher and massage therapist. I’ve taken a detour so the possibility is still there.
3. I should be settled somewhere and have a beautiful home. I also had that at one point in my life, but the Greek crisis forced many of us to leave the life we knew and the home we had along with all its comforts; and find new paths in new counties. Now and for however it lasts, New York is home.
4. I should be more successful in my career and make more money. Well this is only up to my efforts so stay tuned 😉
5. I should drop everything I’m doing here in New York and move back to Greece… Well this one I left for last because it’s as complicated and simple as all the others on the list. For the simple reason that I’m not someone who likes to drop something in the middle before I’ve seen in through; staying in New York although a difficult journey, has and still does inspire me. My writing and poetry has developed over the years here, and the same would not have occurred in Athens. So I take the inspiration and wherever it takes me I’m willing to go. All the risks we take lead us somewhere magical.
What makes us brave is not avoiding failure, but the ability to get back on track after falling.
Lack of success
We all fuck up. We all take a wrong turn. We all make wrong decisions; often more than once. In recent months I’ve had some very profound discussions with self pronounced failures, who despite their own perceptions; have shown far more determination in continuing on their path to success rather than avoiding or languishing on the presence of failure.
In my mind what clearly separates the brave ones from the cowards are the ones who fail; big, and then get up. Pick up the pieces and keep going.
I always have been very bad at admitting failure. As a youngster I wanted to adopt the role of little miss perfect, I could do no wrong, therefore everyone was happy. Yet understanding the value of failure and its necessity; is understanding the basis of future success. Over the years, and after many failures (small and big); I have found that only through those have I grown, learned and was driven to keep going in my pursuits.
the omission of expected or required action
Those who never falter, who don’t risk, or admit failure; are clearly not going to create much success either. We all know at least one such person. The ones who preach perfection, the ones who have it all figured out, the ones who never, bend, take a leap of faith, or follow their dreams into the unknown. The ones who haven’t publicly or privately eaten shit and admitted it.
One person’s failure is another person’s success.
Those who fail big and keep going in most cases are the same ones who are harshly critical of their own accomplishments. I was speaking to a friend recently about a very accomplished explorer and world cartographer, who by his own admission was an utter failure. Any bystander (including myself) who knew nothing of this man’s idea of himself would probably thing he was stark raving mad, and yet; failure is a very personal matter.
Unwilling to Fail/Not recognizing success
After all is said and done, one of the strongest examples of failure is having not tried at all. Being stringent and strict with those who fail, is often shown by those who have failed and won’t admit it, but far more often by those who fear failure and risk more than anything else. Failure requires vulnerability, courage, stupidity, callousness and imperfection. Those same elements are some of the same ingredients of success.
Life is short- Fail
Inasmuch as I have failed or succeeded in my recent endeavors; (and only time will tell) I’ve let go of a lot of what both of those mean. And after seeing how short and precious life is, failure is far more adventurous than sitting at home, living a life half lived, full of comfort and predictability. Having the chance to try, fail and then try again is really what life is all about.
On the weekend of thanksgiving in Rhodes, Greece; a 21 year old woman was raped, brutally beaten with an iron, and while still alive; thrown over a cliff to her death. This is not some medieval murder story, this is the reality of 2018. The gruesome events have been spread through every news cycle, and reported often and loudly enough to finally start raising alarm bells, but what transpired is a story repeated all too often, and only recently is it gaining an audience inside and outside the country.
How can social media guide and help change the narrative and prevent sexual violence against women?
This could have taken place in any part of the world: Two young men (ages 19 & 21) and a young woman get together on what would have been like any other Saturday night. Text messages are exchanged, flirtation occurs, and a typical fun Saturday night; turns gruesome, violent and deadly, in a matter of hours. This could have been anywhere in the world, only this happened on a very touristy and popular island in southern Greece.
Social media has been over saturated with these stories, public outcry is at an all time high, yet it quickly morphs into, judge, jury and executioner of both the culprits and the victim. What is truly troubling is that social media have increasingly and far more often been the bullhorn of victim blaming and shaming. No matter how gruesome the crime, against the victim, “she should have known better” seems to be the main line of defense. Violence towards women in Greece is not new. Assault of young women and harassment of women in public is something that happens every day. The only thing that is slowly changing and ironically with the help of social media, is the a glaring and raw spotlight on Greek society’s disregard of young women, and their absolute and unequivocal right to refuse unwanted sexual advances. Yet there is still a pervasive view that women owe sex to men who hit on them.
Newspapers and investigative reporters are increasingly revealing news about the assault, rape and murder of young women (as young as 13 or 14 years old) from rich powerful men in the United States; to working class students in Greece, and this trend isn’t showing any signs of stopping. We are hearing more stories coming out, far more investigations are actually occurring rather than being swept under the rug, but to what end?
The changing face of gender norms in society
What Is Happening to our moral, societal, gender norms? Why are women still being attacked? Why are gay and transgender men still being attacked? The structure of society is being questioned. How gender norms are set are finally being questioned, especially in a very patriarchal, machismo society like the one expressed in Greek households. Are parents called upon to show up? Are they taking some responsibility for the actions of their children? Now more than ever, it has become a never ending earthquake with aftershocks in the collective consciousness.
We are called upon to ask the difficult questions and especially through social media, online forums and through the voices of other victims. Now more then ever, we question how men and women are treated by society; but much more importantly how they treat each other.What seems to be the rotting root in an already unstable tree, is the silence of bystanders, the indifference and cruel criticism in social and traditional media, and above all, the indifference of society as a whole in making fundamental changes to reporting, protecting and preventing these crimes from happening.
And after all the chaos, the reports, the damning statistics, what remains? Is this just another of the multitude of stories just like this one coming out of post crisis Greece? The increase of violence against anyone who is vulnerable, this separation of the “good families” from the bad? And after all the shock, the outrage, and the trials, how can social media be a source of change and building awareness ?
Taking information into our own hands seems to be the only way to educate young men and women, and more importantly protect them. Websites are being created to help young men and women who may be dealing with subjects; ironically too embarrassing to discuss openly with their parents or even their friends. Forums run by, written by and published by women have become much more popular, but what unfortunately is much harder to change and will take far longer to calibrate; is the mindset of society as a whole.
For the future I hope more young women and men, find the strength and support they need to be more vocal about the discrimination and harassment they might be receiving on a daily basis; but to come forward and talk about their experiences in a much more public way, resisting the shaming and silence they may have received from their families in the past.
I often… (every day) come across random thoughts and discussions as possible topics for sharing on this platform. They range from the mundane and truly trivial, to the BIG life questions… So instead of keeping them to myself, I am creating a series and sharing them with a wider audience.
This morning, I was battling with yet another day of crappy MTA subway service, and while running late for work, I caught my reflection in the subway doors, and pondered if I would ever try Botox. Yes that bacterial toxin that thousands of women (and men?) across the globe use as regularly as a deluxe pedicure to “erase” signs of aging. A few hours later, I was asked this very question by a yoga friend in Greece.
Have you tried or would ever try Botox or other non invasive plastic surgery?
No I haven’t. (yet)
Despite my very strong feelings against plastic surgery; I get why women (and some men) give in, and pluck, tuck, pull, fill, remove and add stuff to their bodies. I find that any kind of massive change and manipulation of what’s been given to us by nature; (let me make clear that I’m only talking about elective procedures) is quite destructive, emotionally and physically in the long run. (not to mention expensive), however I can’t judge a woman who wants to “remove” a few visible signs of aging that might be a damper to her confidence.
I would however give it a try.
I find the possibility of trying something like this, brings up a mixture of skepticism and distrust in this massive industry fully dedicated to making us (women) feel old. Yet… I find that I am curious. Mind you I’m not fanatical or obsessed with the idea of trying Botox or any plastic surgery. The closest I’ve come to anything resembling a aesthetic procedure is a glycolic peel. If pressed to make a choice between minor plastic surgery procedures and something more enriching for my health and well being, I would pick the latter. I’ve practiced yoga for 20 years, have made peace with most of my flaws (and there are many) and I truly don’t mind my “fine lines”. This however has not stopped me from looking in the mirror from time to time and wondering if my face is “aging” me.
Is it better to never start, and let the body age gracefully?
Aging gracefully at our day is ironically considered a choice. The scrutiny and the critical eye most women endure to their ever changing looks does not escape me; I’m not “above it all”. I still refuse to let my grey hair show or my body go, but I am slightly shocked, and not at all surprised that many (too many) women in Greece, start “minor” procedures like Botox from their early 30’s and an increasing number in their late 20’s. Greece is not a wealthy country like the U.S, yet women of ALL financial means put whatever money they can afford to a myriad of beauty treatments. After the mid 90’s “beauty centers” kept popping up like mushrooms in Athens and other major cities, and now plastic surgery in all its forms is all too common.
Do I know women who have had elective plastic surgery?
Yes I do. Each one chose for their own reasons, and in all honesty the results were spectacular. What was more apparent than the physical results, was a noticeable improvement in self confidence. In the grand scheme of things, these types of procedures are not as important as our overall health, but if a small change however trivial; makes such a big difference, more power to you ladies (and gents) for doing something to boost your looks, and confidence. My only concern again has to do with the overall psychological and emotional impact of elective plastic surgery. Like any kind of body modification, it can be addictive, (I have 4 tattoos on my body and plan to get more) so entering this world If I ever do, I want to do it for the right reasons.
Till then… a little extra night cream.
If you want to read more of my previous posts check below :
Adamfu for the Wellington Court Mural Project in LIC Queens (@adamfu)
New York City- a place of legends, movies, folklore, music and art. A place for everyone and a place for those who feel out of place everywhere else. I have now lived, loved and called New York my home for six years. On November 30th 2012, I landed with a return ticket I never used, in hopes of whatever this place had to offer all others, it would offer to me.
I soon discovered that only when you’ve REALLY lived here, ( as a non native ) can you start to fathom what this city has to offer. She’s a strange broad. Unforgiving and loving at the same time. She slowly reveals her secrets and isn’t shy about telling you to “fuck off” if you get in her way. She’s brash and cruel and all for the taking… but don’t mistake her for an easy chick.
She is a mysterious woman, not pretty, but not ugly either… She’s what the French call Jolie laide, a smart cookie who will take you places if you let her. It has taken me a very long time to understand her, (I’m still trying ). I don’t proclaim to know her… yet, but I’m starting to comprehend her ways, her whims her desires and her quirks… She’s no slouch and she reminds me of my American grandmother.
Pauline Councilman Jackson was a Single mother of two. She raised her two children (my mother Christine and my uncle Norman) on her own. She married and divorced twice, sent both her ex husbands packing. With no man in sight and with a lot of love from her community, she raised two AMAZING people. In New York I realized what determination meant. If you embrace her, truly she will give you the gifts she reserves for those who really “seize the day”.
She is a mysterious woman, not pretty but not ugly either… a smart cookie who will take you places if you let her.
New York has become my muse. She has made me love my county more. Despite my utter distain for the politicians who have ruined Greece, forcing so many of my countrymen -and women scattered around the globe ( AGAIN). New York helped me find my voice to express my anger, my love, my disappointment, my passions, and my desires. Her erratic ways, her utter chaos, and her undeniable intensity, has fueled the artistry that lay dormant in me for quite some time.
She’s like a bubbling volcano. There are moments when this city can drive you mad. She’s relentless, driven, tireless, erratic, schizophrenic, bipolar and quite possibly insane.
BUT… she demands all of you, she will bring out all that you have, and sometimes (always) pushes you to your limits. She will drive you mad if you let her, but what she won’t do is let you be mediocre, or second rate. She demands perfection, and slaps you in the face if you’re not paying attention.
She’s a greedy and needy, she’s filthy and nasty and kinky and raw. She’s never quiet, except for those chosen hours in the early morning, but even then; she has movement and shape and rhythm if you listen. She drives me nuts, but I have grown to love her despite her many flaws, and shortcomings.
Cheers New York Fucking City. Six years, and you still draw magic on the walls.
Image by Robert Valenzuela
She demands of you, all that you have and sometimes (always) pushes you to your limits.
The Pictures bellow are but a small fraction of what and who captures my attention in the city this is just a small teaser… Feel free to check all the images on my instagram @thegreekrabbit.
Not all years are a complete loss. 
Eleana Kouneli 
