Category: health

27 Day challenge Challenged

Sometimes the things we planned for are the same things we had no plans for.

March 22, 2020

This past march marked my 3rd annual 27 day writing challenge. The month of March marks a personal turning point, a shift, a place of transition from what was before to what is after, a very introspective, somewhat lonely winter season. March has also become a reminder of a dark time, an anniversary that we never thought we would be reflecting on. Last March, we entered into a contract we thought we would quickly come out of. The authorities said three weeks tops; then a lockdown, a pause in New York, that brought the city to a halt. I spent my 42nd birthday quarantined with my flatmate in Brooklyn. 14 days into a global shut down New York was the most quiet it had EVER been. It was post apocalyptic how silence and New York just don’t mix. My world became the 4 block radius around my apartment. My anual 27 day writing and post challenge was for lack of a better word, challenged. My love of writing however never wavered, I made countless notes, wrote small poems, and elaborated on thoughts. Ideas cropped up in my writing journals, my pen however had better days. I am feeling the urge to share my viewpoint a year on, as I’m entering into my 43rd circle around the sun.

In those early days of the lockdown like pretty much everyone around me, I felt panic and fear that for the first time there was no plausible way out of. There was no explaining or theorizing a way out of it. Patience, writing, meditation, more patience, rinse and repeat. I’ve since blurred the memories from the seismic shifts, big or small and now post aftershocks upon aftershocks, there are times when I’m still in shock. I blink my eyes everyday in gratitude to be alive. March of 2021 seems like a decade and a split second has gone by. The collective and personal thunderstorms that uprooted our lives, have somewhat passed and now we collect what is dear to us and reconnect in ways that we may have never explored before this past year.

This year the challenge continues, beyond the constraints of the 27 days of March. Writing, commentary, poems, thoughts, and discussions are refreshed in a way that goes beyond the limits and constraints of a formula. The bar has risen, the lines have been blurred, and the content will explore the ever changing and shifting world that reveals itself to each and every one of us. I choose to write because it’s a way of making something unique out of something mundane. I choose to share because we’re not alone.

Thanks to all who’ve supported, read, commented so far.

cheers.

March 2021

A year in.

What have we learned, what have we yet to learn and what fundamental changes have taken place a year into a global Pandemic?

The second week of March, marks what has become a transforming, revealing and overwhelming year. March 13th will remain the day life completely and irreversibly changed. It’s 22.24 on a quiet Saturday night and despite all we have gone through; I feel the trials of this year were not in vein. I almost can’t bring myself to reminisce of what was before. There is only what has become, and will come after. We are all forever transformed.

A necessary awakening has taken place. It started with uncertainty, panic, fear of the outside world, anger, more panic and then a slow realization, that this tragic year gave us a once in a lifetime opportunity to stop, listen, understand, create, let go of, build on, comprehend, and quantify our lives in ways never before available to us. We paused. We had to. I lost my shit once, badly. After talking to a dear friend in Athens, which was going through its first severe lockdown, I sat on the corner of my street on the edge of the curb and felt my chest collapsing. I came to the realization that if I’m going to be strong for others, I had to be strong for myself.

I threw all my creativity into cooking nourishing food, and yes I made a lot of bread. I spent the better part of March wondering how I could see my family without putting them at risk. I spent my birthday self isolating with my flatmate and a bottle of wine. We were catapulted into a growing social justice movement that up until march was not in the collective consciousness of every single person with a phone and an internet connection, and then… Breonna Taylor, then George Floyd. The voices of those who were and still are marginalized, went from a whisper to a deafening roar. The world didn’t have a choice any more but to shut up and listen.

Traveling to Greece was not an option, It felt like luxury to even try, and staying put turned out to be the wisest and safest solution. I managed to create a little kingdom out of a small sunlit bedroom. Brooklyn became my universe. Daily meditation, chanting, yoga, stretching, long walks, daily check in with my parents and my beloved friends, forced silence, and time for reflection.

There were countless blessings. A safe home, a beautiful multicultural and multi ethnic proud Brooklyn community, a park I could have taken for granted became my entire world. My solace, my microcosm, my place of laughter and joy, my space became the everyday walk to Prospect Park. Writing didn’t come easy. Images were imprinted for later. Mental and emotional balance was a daily effort, purpose, goal. Meditation became my rock. The Pandemic was a stopping point for certain patterns that no longer served a positive purpose, giving space to a starting point for self realization, motivation and fervent self care. Making a cup of coffee became a practice, a ritual, a starting point.

Movement, breathing, meditation and even chanting has become the cornerstone of my balance and sanity; it is now an integral part of who I am and how I navigate the world. The biggest blessing of this tumultuous year, was the beginning of my online teaching, sharing, breathing with friends, strangers, old friends, and new ones. On the morning of March 14th, I turned on my live feed and started sharing my yoga and movement practice, with no expectation or thought of how long it would go. Self care, mental health care, community care, global care became integral to this new world order.

I am grateful for my health and the health of those I love. I’m grateful for the community that so effortlessly built itself around those that needed it the most. I am grateful to this pandemic for forcing me to take the reigns of my own life. All our lives moving forward were not going to be the same. Nor should they be. If we have learned nothing else, it is to take absolutely nothing for granted.

On the eve of March 14th 2021, this was one for the books, let’s make it count this time round.

March 13, 2021

κουράγιο

a dark anniversary

How to acknowledge a milestone such as a year in the Life of a Global Pandemic

Photo : E. Kouneli East Village, NYC February 2021

For the third year running in March; I launch a 27 day posting challenge to celebrate among many milestones, the coming of spring, my birthday, birthdays of very dear and close friends, and above all, my celebration of writing. These are and have been peculiar times. For 12 months now, we have been served something in between a subpena a blessing and a curse.

For (more than) a year the tight grip of our reconnings, came hand in hand with cripling uncertainty and fear. Our circles got tighter and tighter, and the strangeness of this new reality aproached like a title wave. I felt stuck. Unatached like many of us. Not knowing where exactly to run to and how to stand still.

We all stood still.

Still photo by E.K May 2020

There was no way of getting out of this without some serious damage. We went from what seemed to be everyday life, to life interrupted and then back to attempts to “a new normal” (I personally hated that phrase). The mojo all of sudden vanished. I like many of us I went on a collective overdrive. There was so much to be said, and a lot of not knowing where to begin. All my desire to write about anything seemed futile in the grand scheme of things. Words take their time, they listen they form into our minds like sand inside an oyster. This anniversary is a painful reminder that we sometimes have to stop, and take a good look at ourselves. In retrospect, I’m actually glad I took a (forced) step back.

Some things are worth the wait.

Some dishes take longer to prepare.

Some words appear when we need them to.

Sometimes tragedy is the birth of change.

Photo E. Kouneli : Awaiting Spring Feb 2021

What I’ve come to realize is that writing, reading, and moving have always been part of how I see the world. Despite the hikkups the delays, the injuries, the life interruptions, writing and moving make life normal. The muscles have been dormant. In this prolonged winter, many of my passions felt secondary. I would start on a thought, an idea and just stop. Personal and family matters came first. Survival, mental claridy, mental focus, just the facts ma’am. We have all been trying to keep our collective shit together. We have failed (badly) at times. We have broken, cracked, and obliterated the old paradigms, We have a lot more work to do.

This one year anniversary feels like the collective red pill. We don’t know how deep this rabbit hole will go. We have seen the Matrix we have been given a chance to be free of it. This is our last chance. The anniversary of this year is our chance to recon with our role in the choices we make, the words we use and the lives we truly wish to lead. The reality is not pretty. What this year above all others has shown is that a perfect storm is needed to unvail the truth about who we want bo be.

We turned to things outside of ourselves. We cooked, we made bread, we coped. We zoomed everybody and their mother, literally. We were (are) scared, frustrated, tired, worried, fearful, angry, bored, fed up, high, low, indiferent and we kept going.

We keep going. I kept going . With the help of many many others who were in my corner, just as much (if more ) as I was in theirs.

What this anniversary has made me come to terms with is that when shit hits the fan, humanity is at the mercy of a virus. The virus mutates, we keep fighting it and then it comes back stronger. We have had for some a rude awakening, to others what has always been there in plain site. This has been a hell of a year. One that has forever changed us, we are all affected by this anniversary. One which will be a hard one for many of us to grapple with for many more years to come.

September 2020 LES, NYC

This year on my March daily post challenge, I hope to take you on a different journey. One that finds the strands of humanity that connects us more than divides us. I hope to bring you into a world that isn’t so unfamiliar and distant as we all would like to believe. I invite you to join me.

March 5th, 2021, Brooklyn New York

Easter at a distance

Quarantine Culinary Connections Through Cultural Expressions

Easter is a thing. In Greece it’s a big thing. I can’t describe it in any other way; but as the most important religious holiday of the year. Christmas has nothing on Easter. Christmas is an American construct, Greek Easter is a religious and pagan ritual. Most Greeks just stick to the copious food and wine of the obligatory break to the 40 day long lent, that follows the days of distance from meat (aka Apokries) between February and April. Easter is a time of celebration and rejoicing following a time of renewal, rest, and (νηστεία- lent) that certainly dates back to the ancient Hellenic rituals cleaning before the coming of spring. It is a culmination of a journey from one pagan/christian holiday to another.

Easter is a huge thing in the Greek community of any major American City. Among Greeks Easter or Pascha is a unifier. We all celebrate it in small and big ways. I’ve never intentionally set foot in a church, I’m not religious and I’m largely a vegetarian and hardly drink but like so many others absolutely love Easter. Greek Easter is defined by three things meat wine and red eggs; plus a dash of spirit (yes the holy one). During this time of quarantine and self isolation, I wanted to find a way to bring the tradition of Easter Sunday lunch which turns into dinner, story telling, music playing and drinking into this time of quarantine and isolation. This year has been incredibly different, difficult and eye opening.

Easter is a time of gathering. Not just to “receive the holy light”, not only to gather in a church and listen to the midnight sermon, not just to eat the thick, hot aromatic leek, liver and entrails soup (served at the stroke of midnight on Sunday, but to be together with dear friends and lovers, family and people you care about. It’s about community, conversation, deep embraces and kisses on the cheek with the slight aftertaste of wine, salt and lamb grease. Easter is about flavors, music, and a promise of a bountiful summer. This year despite that aching feeling of isolation and lack of human interaction; didn’t feel any different. These things can still be shared, despite the distance.

I woke up this past Sunday morning with a strange joy I’ve not felt in a long time, because of Easter. Yes I the atheist vegetarian needed, wanted this connection with ritual, tradition and belief, plus lamb and potatoes in the oven (aka Αρνί με πατάτες στο φούρνο). This dish is synonymous, in its many different renditions with traditional Easter Day fare. Lamb on a spit or in the oven if you live in a city, is Easter on a plate. This time of quarantine has given me a chance to explore things that I’ve needed and wanted to understand better for myself, through the lens of forced separation from my community.

before

Easter is about family. The one you are born into and the one that you acquire along the way. We gather and share in this tradition, with those we love and cherish the most.

Easter is inclusive. Regardless of religion or belief, people gather to be together and share food and copious wine (I must stress this) with anyone who wants to be included.

after

Easter is about being close, about sharing stories into the late afternoon, before you take one last swig of wine, watching the sun quickly vanish into the horizon. While savoring the last morsel of potato covered in lamb grease that you will probably heat up again next week, you lick your fingers and taste just one last rush of thyme, rosemary and garlic; you promise yourself that next year, your embraces will linger a little longer, your stories will be that much more rich and the tradition regardless of our belief is there to bring us just a little closer.

Χρόνια πολλά….

More tomorrow from the quarantine diaries.

Quarantine Diaries: A strange quiet in the Air

How do we learn to navigate this ever changing new reality.

We are weathering an unpredictable storm. Massive life shirts in a matter of days. Every week that passes there is a new norm we must contend with. A quiet space we never had has suddenly been created along with a new rhythm to our lives. Everything and everyone we want so deeply to connect with has been kept away from us. Our loved ones out of reach, our moments of human connection so deeply skewed, distorted and altered beyond any previous experience or recognition. Technology brings us close, when at the same time it keeps us apart. This unending conundrum of how do we stay connected when we aren’t allowed.

This time of forced quiet and self-reflection is deeply needed. If we take this time apart from our daily lives, we can discover something far more important that we have not quite acknowledged. Quiet Time. I live in a pretty noisy neighborhood. Not as noisy as some parts of New York but like any densely populated part of the city; my neighborhood can be very busy. People come and go, cars drive by with loud radios playing and now the whole neighborhood is empty. The cars that used to honk at 7.30 in the morning are no longer there. The line that used to form in front of the cafe down the street is no longer there. No one is going to brunch, no one is hanging out till 2 am in front of a bar. The city is at a standstill. A held breath, waiting to exhale.

It’s a full moon. And I’m sitting in front of my window gazing in awe at this urban sky that for once seems clearer and more serene. More than any other time in the seven years I’ve lived in New York, this city is . Yet I feel an unease that can’t be explained. I associate New York with as much noise as possible and now the silence has given me a moment to really ponder what is important and what is frivolous.

As I grapple with the waves of fear, insecurity, calm, anger, calm, reassurance and back again. The silence allows for the thoughts to dissipate and looking up at the sky that surrounds us all, I’m comforted by the fact that we’re all in this. For how long? Predictions aren’t my game; but whatever the length of this pause, I hope we learn something useful for the next chapter of our lives.

Be Safe, Be Well, enjoy the silence.

Day 20 & 21 Springtime Poetry

Committing to the daily writing and posting challenge this year, more than any other year, has been of utmost importance. A sense of continuity for myself but also for you few but lovely loyal readers out there. It will probably continue to post thoughts, stories, poems, as I will not stop on the 27th of March; which was the original deadline for this daily posting challenge. Until then here’s a small catch up on the slightly interrupted flow.

This past week has undoubtedly been a strange, stressful and unexpected for us all. I’ve been remiss the last two posts so I am making a delayed submission with some extras before proceeding as scheduled with day 22.

March 20 marks the official day of spring. March 21 we celebrate world poetry day and in light of those two very special occasions I sat down and leafed through my favorites; to pick a poem that I love dearly and want to share with you all. Spring is when in Greece we dawn our march bracelets and count down the weeks and months till summertime approaches. March is known as a complicated month; unpredictable; precocious; unstable, and this time it’s reached a spectrum of unpredictability and fear of the unknown that has gripped me as I am sure many of you out there. Despite that I can’t not write and share and communicate that this is not just about fear. I took a walk in the park near my home today for what may be the last time before New York completely shuts down all non essential travel. There is a peaceful and eerie quiet in the streets. There are less people out than would have been on a sunny day but I captured some moments on my walk around the block and meditated on what I’m truly grateful for. What I felt more strongly than ever is the need to keep going.

March 20, 2020

We must encourage art and writing and story telling to continue and hold a place for creativity to flourish even through we’re all faced with these incredibly uncertain times. A daytime breeze is still beautiful, a walk in sun is healing, a beautiful song uplifting and a poem re-connects us all. I’ll keep posting and do hope to hear back from some of you wherever you might be.

Till tomorrow: A poem by one of my favorites E.E Cummings

Day 19. It’s the simple things.

It’s day 7 of voluntary social distancing here in New York and staying at home has been a challenge and a blessing. Now we have all the time in the world to focus on the things that we could never catch up on before. Time has become a loose and fluid entity these past few days. Hence why I’ve taken a couple of days off the daily challenge to just reflect and connect with my breath and my thoughts and write something different.

I’ve slowed down so much from my previous rhythms, that I’ve had so much more time to reflect on what really matters here and what doesn’t. There are opportunities in this global health crisis we can’t afford to miss. We’ve been either forced to stop what we were doing before but also take stalk of what the hell we’ve been doing to our planet to each other and ultimately our own health. We’re nothing next to this enemy within.

We’ve been told to stay home, help the collective good for once instead of the personal gain. We’re going stir crazy in our forced solitude, and all of a sudden it’s become a reflection on the little things. That is all that truly is on my mind these days. The grind has stopped and sharing a cherished moment talking to a loved one has taken ultimate priority over anything else.

I ( hope) know this too shall pass but we’re at a pivotal point in our existence and the space we inhabit and no amount of analysis will change it. Here’s a few things I’ve taken from the past

In the past week, I’ve cooked a home made meal for me and my housemate every night. I’ve listen to music and read a book with so much attention I forgot to stop at 2 am. I’ve stretched and moved with my friends in Athens who are also cooped up in their homes without any clear idea of when this will end. And all that I am craving is the little things that make life worth living.

The delicate and personal, the memories and the things we share with those we most cherish. The beauty of this planet and the connections we build. The smell of a home cooked meal and the clink of a glass of wine with friends in a shared tavern table just at the foot of the Agean sea. The crisp folding of a page from a book I can’t put down and the feeling of clean air against my face. Quiet mornings sipping a cup of coffee with my family before the day unfolds. No amount of technology can replace it although taking to friends and family daily is of utmost importance. The list of little things is like a treasure trove that we nibble at when all the supplies have been depleted. And here we are cherishing all that we took for granted. Living what we thought was a given and saying all we thought was understood.

Let’s hope we share on those small joys more often.

Onwards to day 20.

Day 12 & 13- Isolation

It’s midnight. Friday the 13th 2020. Doomsday looming in both my homes. The bombardment and monopoly of the 24hr news cycle focused on a pandemic taking over the planet. Athens is already under lockdown from the spread Coronavirus Covid- 19, and New York City is not that far behind. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I would be experiencing something like this, my parents isolated far from New York and me wondering what the next few days will bring. Fighting hysterical posts on the one end and dismissive political figures on the other; there needs to be a mind and body triage to keep me going.

Two things that have always comforted me in good times and bad, are books and music. Both have been companions and my shield. I love diving into a good book and music, well music has been my salvation over the years, so a virus outbreak calls for some serious tunes and reads. It seems that very soon I will have to rely heavily on both for solace in what have already been very trying times. As an homage to two of my favourite pass times; I’m invoking the ever amazing BBC radio program Dessert Island Discs to make a virus lockdown mix. Music no matter how bad things get will always soothe the weary mind and heart. So with our further delay my dear readers… Here is :

My Desert Island Disks and Books for the threat of a citywide virus outbreak lockdown.

1. Here Comes The Sun — The Beatles

Why this song : Because it’s one of the first songs I ever remember hearing as a child in our Kifissia ( northern suburb of Athens) apartment when I was probably around 4-5 years old. It played on the Techniques turn table my dad had at the time, and I remember my mum wearing her very 70s glasses at the time and looking stunning. I still remember the look of the apple turning around and around 37-38 years later. It makes me tear up every time I hear it.

2. Wish you were here — Pink Floyd

Why this song: It’s epic. Plain and simple. Pink Floyd were and are some of the most prolific musicians I’ve ever come across. My first ever concert was the Pig Tour concert in 1987 at the Olympic stadium in Arhens and I remember like it was yesterday.

3. Personal Jesus —- Depeche Mode

Why this song: My love for Depeche mode and especially this song was born during my London days in the early 2000s, and it’s so telling of the era and the tone it was recorded in. The false prophets and the lost souls in invokes and the idea of a personal savior that never was.

4. Tiny Dancer — Elton John

Why this song : It reminds me of my first and last College boyfriend and who I was at the time. I was for all intents and purposes a dancer, living, breathing that art form in all its glory and whenever I hear this song, I relive my young self in upstate New York and my long gone college days. My passion for this guy who broke my heart and how he knew how to speak through song what he could never voice in his own words.

5. Dionisis Savopoulos — O Karagiozis

Why this song : The love goes deep here with this artist and this song specifically because it describes a whole generation of Greek entertainment, the idea of the pauper fool who despite his squalor always manages to get by. The long lost art of theater of shadows that kept generations of Greeks ( mostly lower and middle class greek families) entertained. This artist who’s the Greek version of Lucio Dalla, part story teller, part folk artist, he raised me with his music more than any other Greek artist I can recall ( and there are many)

6. Koupes — Marina Sati

why this song: Marina Sati to me exemplifies all that is wonderful about the new Greek music scene. A multicultural, multiethnic strong voice. A woman who exemplifies all that I love about the newer generation of Greek musicians. This song is absolutely gorgeous, beautiful vocals, great musicians. It takes me to a place I love visiting in my mind. A sunlit beach with no care in the world.

7. Vivaldi —- The Four Seasons

There are many exceptional classical pieces of music, but for me Vivaldi although often over played and considered not as sophisticated as other classical composers, is one I go to often. Especially the four seasons. It seems apropos to our understanding of nature and how it makes us feel.

8. Faithless —- Insomnia

This is the ULTIMATE dance till your bones come loose club song of the late 90s early 2000s. I get high only from its rhythm and it’s beat. My body feels so good letting its rhythm take my mind off all that’s troubling me. It takes me back to my years studying in London and my hope at the time. I absolutely love this track.

Ok one last one which is cheating the basic premise of the 8 tracks to take to the desert island but this last track is probably my ultimate piece of music I will listen to on my desert island and brings up the most beautiful memories I have of my time in London.

With a bang

Keith Jarrett — Köln Concert Part I

My list of books for keeping sane in insane times will be up tomorrow night. Till then..

Stay safe everyone.

Day 9.5 & 10 – Self Care

How does the Body Politic go into the private sphere of influence ?

Public Doubt — Leads to Body doubt and self doubt. Uncertainty about public health, leads to uncertainty about our body’s health and ultimately the health of who surrounds us. It starts small and reverberates to all aspects of our experience.

We are given no choice but to doubt ourselves because someone else is making decisions for us. Taking back our bodies and exercising our self love and connection with our true nature, is an act of defiance. Tipping the balance back to self knowledge self agency and to taking back out true self reliance is almost considered a revolutionary act.

Not allowing the public sphere to infiltrate our private space is akin to moving out into a personal wilderness with little influence from the “civilized” world and connecting to nature and ourselves once again.

some personal tips: and I’m not hear to preach to anyone but keeping a level head requires self discipline and self love:

– Spend time with your body in silence. Listening, breathing, meditating.

– Move, sweat, sing, dance, let go of the tension in both body and mind.

– We are ALL in this, together so helping each other, practice loving kindness even though its easy to blame the world for our problems, resist.

Stay sane and safe dear readers. Tonight Day 11. with a twist.

Day 9- The Body Politic

What are we losing by allowing others to decide how we exist?

We push our bodies to the limit because someone said it’s good for us. Eating, drinking, exercising in ways that are determined by others. Experts, scientists, doctors, all there to give their two cents on what and how we should be. We end up blindly following rules, dogma, routines and health fads with no consideration or self exploration.

Are our bodies really our own? And if so, how are we allowing others to dictate, decide and decode them?

The mere act of self reliance, self discovery and self care is becoming a political and revolutionary act. Taking agency over our health, and our wellbeing is a statement of defiance and solidarity.

Especially as a woman in this moment in time, I’m increasingly being dictated to, and told how and in what ways my body and its functions are still a political and social bargaining chip. Instead of moving towards body independence, we are still being told how to be; what to weigh, what to wear, how to heal and how to express and impress our corporal identity.

Human bodies are a commodity, a major political agenda, and a currency that is far beyond just health and wellness. Multi billion dollar industries are built on re-defining, re-arranging and re-telling of the human form, and for women especially it has become essential that we buy into the idea that EVERYTHING we are starts and ends with our face and our body parts. We are not a sum of our parts, we are just parts.

The human body is under constant attack, surveillance, and scrutiny. We belong to someone else from the day we are born to the day we die. Especially the day we die. We have to ask for permission to exist and we can’t decide for ourselves if we wish to cease to exist.

How can we create change in the world if we can’t claim ownership over our own bodies? How can we claim to be free thinkers, doers and beings if we are told to ask for advice and permission from others on how to exist ?

How can we create personal body freedom?

Till the next episode… Rest, reflect and recharge.

Featured image by : Alexandros Koromilas