Tag: life

Random Thoughts- The Value of Money

Value and Cost.

I’ll be honest… If I won the lottery tomorrow I would quit my job, pay my family’s debt, take up art, writing, and yoga studies full-time, go to massage therapy school, learn French and Spanish again, and travel….. a lot. Last month the mega millions lottery in the U.S was one of the biggest ever recorded in lottery history, and it got me thinking about what money buys us. It purchases the opportunity to access, connects us with services not available to people without money. It buys status, and privilege. What it definitely doesn’t get us is happiness, or love or meaningful connection with other people. It’s a cliché for a reason; money can’t buy peace of mind, and we’ve all seen how that ends up time and time again.

What, truly do these pieces of paper that we’ve deemed equivalent to denominations of value actually do for us?

What does money afford us and what does it take away. I’m not talking about exorbitant amounts of money or even the mega millions jackpot, but a large amount of money for any average person.

Money for as much as it provides, allows, or gains access to; it equally separates us in so many ways.

Access to money, especially in a very expensive city like New York, can purchase time, expensive things, convenience; but never any of the things that actually matter to us.

Yet here we are all working three and four jobs, just to pay our bills. We do jobs, instead of following our calling. We work in offices punching keyboards instead of creating wealth of knowledge and understanding for each other. We save up to retire so we can travel or buy that car we always wanted. We break our health and sanity to make copious amounts of money that buys things, monetary comfort when years, decades go by and we still struggle with pain, loneliness, fear, isolation, depression, and sickness.

In the end… What would you do with a 250 million dollars?

 

hearts

Weathering the Storms

beach clouds dark dark clouds
Photo by Josh Sorenson on Pexels.com
All storms pass.
No matter how destructive they might be. The clouds gather ominously the rain falls,
the wind blows, the trees bend, and sometimes their branches break; but they endure.
Even when they leave us rattled and disoriented; storms pass.
Even though they are brutal and cause chaos wherever they go; storms pass.
And like the trees, if we are deeply routed in who we are, where we want to be and
how we want to live our lives, storms can never up root us.
We all live through mini storms, and major hurricanes. Our very existence is questioned,
our moral fiber tested and stretched to the point of ripping, yet there we are; resilient to
the winds and the daunting times of our lives.
This is not a pep talk.
This is a realization. One that I have come to after many storms, many mistakes, and
many
broken
branches.
I burned future chances for happiness and joy, because I thought the
storms of my life were far more destructive than they actually were.
Category 5 disasters… now gentle reminders of how far I’ve come,
how far we have all come.
Whirlwinds, title waves of emotions leaving us bare, raw, naked, worn.
But we get up and we keep going, because storms are there to remind us of our higher
purpose.
We
Are
stronger…
than the any storm.
“When the Roots are Deep, There is no reason to fear the wind”
tree-2845119_960_720

​

Privilege–Crisis and Migration

One invaluable lesson the financial crisis in Greece taught me, is that one can’t take anything for granted.

There are few incredibly wealthy Greeks who remain untouched by the financial crisis. I am not going to talk about them in this blog post.

Countless young Greek professionals like myself, have had to leave their lives, their homes and their families behind for a another and very uncertain life elsewhere. I uprooted my life, (again) and migrated to another country, not only for a better life but essentially to survive. If all goes well and I’m able to build a life here in the U.S, or anywhere else; I hope to move beyond surviving, and to ultimately thrive and succeed.

Going back to Greece to live and work; is not a viable option for us who left. 

At least not yet.

I am far luckier than most.

With all the strides, that I have made living in New York the past five years; it has not been without its challenges. I attribute the general malaise of my fellow country men and women, not only to nostalgia or missing our homeland, but to the crude realization of having to prove ourselves somewhere else AGAIN, after having fought very hard to establish a life in a far less conducive and accepting environment.

I built a successful career in my field, and was afforded a relatively stable family and personal life, but most importantly Greece was my home. I LOVED living there. I had in general terms a good life. Despite all its craziness and complete chaos; I love Greece. Yet….most young people, (myself included when I first moved back after my studies), are endlessly discouraged by Greece’s pure lack of any provable organization, shitty public services, corrupt governance, disorganized and badly outdated infrastructure, nepotism, greed … rampant sexism, and most recently a newly emboldened racism and nationalism; the list is endless.

We all have complained, and continue to do so about how badly everything runs, how our corrupt politicians are stifling growth, entrepreneurship,  and innovation. Many of the people who left, wanted to make it work in Greece. We wanted to bring our knowledge back to our homeland. I like many of my contemporaries, have had the privilege of being educated in good schools, have had contact with some amazing minds in all the fields I have worked at;  (the Arts, Dance, Wellness and beyond), and have had the good fortune to be able to choose where I would like to live, but above all…. I had the ultimate “golden ticket”; an American Passport.

My privilege is not lost on me.

It has afforded much needed headway when coming to the United States to work and live after living in Greece for most of my adult life. Yet…. I am still seen as a bloody foreigner. Despite my many difficulties proving myself again as a yoga teacher, arts administrator and overall capable professional; this little title “American Citizen” protects me from far worse treatment and marginalization that many of my compatriots feel having never lived in the U.S, or any other foreign country for that matter.

When observing the difficulty my friends face when coming to the U.S for the first time, I feel immensely grateful to be able to navigate through “the system” as well as having a better understanding of the intricacies of living, operating and decoding how “the little things” work in the U.S. This is an obscure list of unwritten rules; it’s handed to us upon arrival and, we all have to follow them.

A rude awakening, to a new life.

Whatever life I left behind in Greece; losing the comfort and ease I was used to, was quite daunting at first glance. What I learned upon arrival to the U.S is that nothing of what I knew or was used to is applicable here. If I am going to survive, I must play the local game and all but forget how things worked for me “back home”. I had to go through the same “schooling” when I moved back to Greece at 22, after my studies in the U.S. The American way of life does not apply to Greek chaos… so I was called to re-calibrate how I worked “the system”, in order to survive and ultimately thrive.

This I find is the biggest gift, no matter how hard of a transition it has been. I am now fortified with the tools to be able to negotiate a productive way of life both here and in Greece. The local rules and “how things are done” are no longer a mystery, because doing things by the book in New York is only the first step to a long education about making it here, or anywhere else.

And the story continues….

Let me say This… Revisited

I wrote a poem about 3 years ago, and It’s the first one I ever performed live at an event called First Time Out, in New York at a cool performance/bar space called Pete’s Candy Store.

I was a very nervous, and shaky first time performer back in November 2016, but I took a chance with an art form and a stage that I had never even dreamed I would ever approach, let alone at the “ripe” age of 38.

This piece is close to my heart because I wrote it for someone I deeply care about, who I can now call a dear friend. We went through our ups and downs in life and we ended up floating instead of sinking so I’m dedicating this to my dear friend P. Life has a very strange way of colliding people together who may on the surface seem incongruous.

The more I travel, the more people I collide with. Old friends remain true friends, others fade away, some remain there for a lifetime, through thick and thin, some betray you, some you betray. It’s a never ending cycle of attraction, connection, and sometimes a rare blossoming.

Enjoy.

LET ME SAY THIS

Let me tell you a story about leaving home, about struggling to find a place of your own, Let me tell you about walking miles every day in this crazy city, and asking yourself over and over again is this all there is?

Let me tell you about loving and heartbreak, about standing on your own two feet, about flirtation about opening your heart again about loneliness about doubt and fear, let me tell you about sitting alone at night thinking…

There must be more than life to this.

Let me tell you about rejoicing in knowing you have friends who love you and you love them. Let me tell you about poetry and listening to father analyse over and over the importance of poetry…. because talking about your motherland falling apart isn’t that pleasant.

Let me tell you about mother and how she is my best friend.  Let me tell you about laughter in the middle of the street, till your guts hurt and not caring how loud you are cause that shit was so damn funny!  Let me tell you about sex, and passion, lack of intimacy or truth, let me tell you about excuses and mistreatment and unfulfilled embraces, let me tell you about pain. Let me tell you about not wanting to live again.

“let me tell you about sitting alone at night thinking, there must be more than life to this…”

Let me tell you about falling in love and going out of your mind, let me show you loss and tears. Let me tell you about walking alone, and sleeping alone and crying alone and feeling alone even though your not. Let me tell you about countless early mornings sitting in silence breathing and hoping it will all get better.

Let me tell you about waking up with sun in your eyes and smelling the island breeze and wishing you were here with me, diving deeper and deeper into the deep blue sea.


Let me tell you about missing my home, my people, my sun kissed balcony, the aromas of fresh baked bread from the village bakery

salt on my skin

the sound of hundreds of cicadas

drowning the air with their numbing rhythm. Let me tell you about music and dancing, and embracing friends who are far away, and letting your hair down cause…

that’s what life is all about.

Let me show you what I see, what I hear let me share with you my story, and I want you to tell me yours.

Tell me about you, tell me about your dreams and struggles your life and goals, your fears.
are you sitting up at night thinking is this all there is?

Eat with me, drink with me, laugh with me, cry with me, look into my eyes and see there is nothing more beautiful than sitting in silence and knowing, understanding one another and realizing….

Yes that this is ALL there is.

IMG_5864

Letting go of fear- Lock and Key

IMG_7161[1]

We’ve all felt it. It paralyzes us. It leaves us numb, without a way out. We all know it, that feeling of being helpless and fearful. Fear can be a necessary tool, it keeps us alive if we hold back from jumping off tall buildings to see if we can land in one piece,  it keeps us safe from fatal harm, it keeps us from making sometimes really stupid mistakes, but in many cases it stops us from living lives full of wonder and joy. The older we grow the more fearful we become and one thing a 20 plus yoga practice has taught me is the playfulness and joy doesn’t have to dissipate just because we let our fears and insecurities take over.

Fear can rob us from opening doors or perception of dreams and of possibilities that could make our lives richer, more luscious and more beautiful.

But what if we just turned the key and looked beyond our fear? Yes, it’s harder to do than to say, yet there it is beckoning us, the unknown, the undiscovered.

We’ve always had the key to the lock. Sometimes it IS as easy and taking it out and trying it out. And what If we fail? And what if we fall down and scrape our ego? And what? What if we fall in love and have our heart broken, what if we tell the truth and get rejected?

Nothing.

You get the fuck up and keep trying. Because you can’t let fear drive the car. You can’t let this mind numbing agent steal your life from you because life is way to short to live in fear.

Don’t let it.

What’s in a name

Gustave Mareau
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 by 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; it brings with it a familial and cultural connection to my birthplace. Oftentimes names are just passed down from grandparents to children in Greek culture; as a nod to lineage and family connection, but most times these names carry a significance we don’t often understand.

Today is a celebration of light.

Cheers Eleni, Helen, Lena, Elena, Eleana.

What does your name say about you?

10 Things I love about Greek Summer

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!

img_2142
7.30am at Sweet Water Beach in Sfakia- Crete

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

  1. 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)
  2. Go with friends, leave with more friends.
  3. 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).
  4. The secret beaches are usually the best ones.
  5. The secret beaches are the hardest to get to — for that exact same reason.
  6. Leave your fucking mobile phone off and enjoy the sea, dive in, stay in and live in the moment.
  7. 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 . img_3733
  8. 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.
  9. 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.
  10. 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

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.

636083428698107555493080002_words-on-a-page-tumblr-tumblr-static-words-falling-off-the-page1

7 Hours Difference — A life

texture-3319946_960_720

-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?

 

persistenceofmemory1931
The Persistence of Memory– Salvador Dali

 

 

 

 

Liquid Courage

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.