Seeing and being Seen

This is the universe answering my dad says as I finish chanting the mantra. I can’t believe he’s saying this after today and our fight the day before. You have a super daughter. She said the first day we arrive, every time when she’s coming around, bringing another delicious homemade dish, smiling at me: Lina, how are you? I have to lie today because the fighting with my dad is taking a lot of me. The root causes. I dismissed all of my male friends except for my dad from my life was my standing. Our fights deeply rooted in his past and my presence. Not being seen by him, him not caring about my feelings, let alone my boundaries, throwing me into my childhood trauma dramatically, overwhelmingly, he himself. Twisting my words, gaslighting me for what the situation is about. Claiming things I haven’t done or said, not listening. Giving him feedback on his behavior, he rejects every word coming out my mouth, making it seem like nothing I see, feel or think about a situation is valid. This is all subjective he will say after every sentence. No is his answer to everything I have to say. That’s not true. His perception is not to be questioned, not subjective - mine is. Being discredited in all I am or feel. It hurts so much, deeply inside, being treated with so much disrespect from his side but what hurts even more is that this is what I have been going through all my life, the last months, especially the last weeks with men, not seeing or loving me for who I am. Finishing it off with his view on me and my personality, claiming that he is always listening to me and I only evolve around myself, talking about guys and taking pictures putting myself in the center. The center. Egocentrism, self-centeredness. 

All my lessons painfully collected in one moment of his truth. He’s one of them. The topic of toxic masculinity, when he’s pushing me over my edge having me yell and cry, using my childhood tools, telling me how overly emotional I am, asking why I have to be so intense. I look at him. Right. My number one topic self-worth, I am not ok the way I am. He wants me to be different, he claims me to be egocentric, not looking out enough for him. Asking him how he is feeling.

An immeasurable wave of anguish washing over me. I’m not safe. He’s not protecting me, he’s protecting himself and his identity with all means necessary. I am helpless, breathless, desperate for a solution, for connection, only it’s not to find there now. I run away the second time in two days when he won't stop arguing even when I'm begging him to stop. To respect my boundaries. Down the mountain I run. Again. Back to the guesthouse, sobbing. I don’t know what to do with it. My all being is rejecting him crossing my boundaries like this even when I yell at him in desperation to stop he will keep throwing arguments at me as to why he’s right. Everything is in pain - in exit mode. My physical body wanting to drop dead, my mind, my heart and soul exhausted, extinguished, helpless and lonely. I didn’t want this. Two children with their pain so similar like a mirror, only one generation apart. My process further ahead is what he cannot accept. A competition. He needs to be seen and I understand, only I am his child. It’s not my role before my own pain can heal before he can give me the same attention, respect and unconditional love, I cannot find the capability or capacity for giving him all this attention he needs and would have deserved from the moment he came into this world. Like I did too. This generational trauma, so vividly active, baring the potential for transformation and growth - only when my boundaries are respected and not only that but when I’m safe with him. Not in this condition or context. I love him so much it hurts when I see the same little hurt child fighting so hard to overcome the pain, wanting to be loved as much as giving it and I wish I didn’t have to feel the same. 

I run, I go back. I go forward.

She’s working hard in the garden, smiling brightly up to me at the balcony, bringing cake to the house. I’m singing along my music. Super super, she’s holding up her thumb, radiating positivity as every day. Always smiling. I feel her. This day wasn’t easy. Yet her days are never easy and she’s kind and bright with a large amount of empathy, that empathy that I could not find in my dad’s behavior towards me. I’m too much, and I do not care enough about him, that was the message. My view bright on Mount Kazbek. When he’s hanging the clothes on the lines, I finish my last line of the mantra and a big blast of  wind is blowing across the balcony while clouds are moving over the majestic mountain. I think about how to spend the last days with my dad. The universe answering.

I’m so much looking forward to seeing Philophi again, finding us the perfect place to spend an authentic Georgian night. I will only know later how authentic when my head will feel like someone smashing it with a hammer. It's worth it. 

After leaving to the mountains Philophi sends me a message of the kindest words, commenting my writing, almost giving me a heart attack. I feel how much fear I still carry inside of me, for someone will criticize my writing, my feelings, my thoughts, my all everything. Again and again. Slowly reading his message I almost cry as it turns out to be quite the opposite of a critique. It touches me so profoundly in who I am, it's making my eyes teary. Once more I feel seen. Linchen… how did he know? I don’t really know what to say. When I’m reading what you’re writing about me, you give me the feeling that I am special [indeed he is. To me anyways] This really helps my well being […] and you should think about making writing your profession. Very very fluent, nice and authentically written. This again is what I needed to hear. Still I am so self conscious about it, I need to be reminded every now and then. Just like he reminds me to catch some sleep when he sees how tired I am or finds the right words to encourage me. When he talks about his future vision the night before I’m leaving to the mountains I can hardly believe his words. I wanna laugh and cry and give him a never ending hug. It has been my exact vision for many years, put into the same words. The safe space. 

The safe space we all need. Right here next to my dad slowly arriving back in the hot city I cannot wait to see him, my latest friend again, to spend time together, reconnect. I need connection. Having focused on my dad, I paused the interaction with my friends for being totally here. I need to be. Everyone in the background being so enthusiastic about the time I have with my dad and so am I. I love him with all my heart. I wish I could do better but I am hurt too. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.

And there the love initially returns...

Thank you my Love. I am inspired by you, I made myself a present on my birthday, I’ve started practicing yoga) I would say this time more consciously and deeply. I would not exaggerate if I said that it helped me to survive this difficult summer more or less joyfully.

PART II: Full Circle.

We return. Roaming through the entire city, exploring old and new. Galleries, alleys, museums, bars, restaurants. The streets of Tblisi.

Nata, looking into my eyes from the first moment, she sees my necklace, looking back into my eyes while I look through her art. You have a beautiful necklace. I look at her. I tell the story, the story of my necklace protecting me. It's the color of your eyes. The universe. She's not the first one to say. They're the ones who connect with me, that I connect with, who see me, who bring so much attentiveness from the minute you meet that it lasts through a life time. Within seconds we get lost in conversations. The eye inside the drop of water. I tell her more stories. You actually look like my aunt she confirms what Georgian mams have made my soul heritage. She is lightening up my heart, sparking a fire within me, when my whole body is aching from the night before. Downing a large coffee ice cream shake my stomach is not sure how to feel about it after the generous portions of chacha, wine and beer last night. Philophi joining our Georgian dinner table, making my heart smile, finishing what we cannot - like the Georgian Tamada circle, the table next to us, picking me up to dance, swinging me through the restaurant. I’m sure we will celebrate many more nights together in our life is what he says the next day, touching my heart again as all the times before like he's looking right through me. That he maybe doesn't have to as it is his nature. I'm happy it's still surprising for me, that this beauty cannot fade for me; like the one person who loved me with his all being once said, the perks of being so pure - the beauty of me being surprised every time someone conveys their love to me, new and fresh, pure like it's the first time. As this night will unfold with more love than I can expect. It's a magical night. The full circle from one week ago, one year ago, two years ago, closing tonight. 

Saturday night. Same vibe, different people. It's watermelon party. Thank you for your contribution Lina. Really. I'm singing along with my dad with all the people around the table when no one feels comfortable enough to sing. I feel happy. One week. Yoga, strolling through the entire city until my body wants to give up, greedily stuffing the first food of the day into my mouth to find myself with new and old companions. The linguist crew. We're reading poems of ancient times and different cultures. Culture clash. My dad is serving bread sticks, grilled watermelon and cheese salad. One week ago he was home, found to be here now, already in our last night. The good bye party that he won't forget.

Filling the circle for what needed to be added, creating a community of trust, of connection and care. Literally with every minute intercultural interconnections growing between the worlds while my dad is serving the resources in his highest creativity, in cooperation with our Barbie Ken, starting off with the Secret silk road cocktail, combined with the Barbie marshmallow watermelon drink in pink connecting in the presence.  No puns intended. We look at each other, as we're giving around the phones is where the synchronicity is showing its power in all colors of the rainbow. It goes back to one year ago where on the other side of the world, the place that challenged me the most, our paths have already crossed with another person, the same day, the same place. The magic of the Universe untouched it's giving us both shivers while my dad is telling the story of my return to my lovely Turkish sisters who have no other plans but to go to that exact same place at the exact same time as I was asking the universe not to let me go alone again but this time in sisterhood.

The peace connection allowing each of us to be as we are as we share everything we have in that night. Even family - until it's time for my dad to go, he hugs the girls that are slowly stealing my heart away, specifically one of them. It's like my own dad was here. Oh Lina it's so beautiful that your dad came to see you. He is so sweet. It was so beautiful. Almost making the tears rise in my eyes like the tide of the ocean. It's 2am. Lina how are you feeling? It's been two years on the day that I was standing in the exact same spot. She is looking deeply into my eyes as she will do even more intensely later on that night when we start holding each other, kissing our faces, holding our heads in our hands, embracing each other, saving each other. It's much. The play with the fire that they control so well and elegantly when needed. The play with the fire that brought us closer when they tried to disrupt our peace. She’s mine. Don’t touch her. She’s pulling me close into her, holding me tightly.

We’re owning the streets of Tblisi, getting rid of the toxic masculinity, building friendship, womanhood, a safe space, solidarity for our hearts, humankind. The topic that has hurt me so much the last days. Starting with Barbie, closing it all when I taste her lips, I see the pain in her eyes, in her heart. It's clear to see. She's holding my hand. Lina if it wasn't for you, I have not been with a woman since my heart was broken into tiny pieces by the last one. Shattered I didn't want to let anyone in until I saw you and I knew I could trust you. Thank you for opening my heart again. You could see my pain. I feel it returning like last week. I'm being seen, she feels seen. She's so soft, so broken, so raw. I feel her pain like mine and so does she. The most precious gift we have. Trust. Being held by people when we show ourselves vulnerable. She doesn't wanna let me go as when it is time, the day is broken into light, I am waiting for the taxi while she is not moving from my side, holding my hand. I will not have a good time knowing that you don't get home safe. I need to wait with you. I am the most lucky person on this planet. Blessed with a human family that sees me, strengthens me, appreciates me, loves me for who I am. 

Returning to my calling, barely holding my eyes open, helping the newly arrived planning his trip, scrambling eggs for the one who shows the courage to break through the toxicity of our generation. Next time you have to tell me you're going to a club Lina. Please. I want to come. Meanwhile the new arrival is eagerly taking notes, smiling at me. Amazing that you can still sit up straight. It's time. She's behind me.

My phone is ringing. Unofficially you're the little Guru in our family you know that she says as we talk about the intense arguments with my dad. She’s a magician, she’s just transformed me and my world into a safe place. Giving me the power just like Philophi will later on as well.

She knows him. She knows me. She looks behind the scenes, lifting the curtains. Our generation, the later version of our parents, developed deeper and further. Me the threat to my own dad. It's exactly how I've felt. Like I was his biggest competition. Like he had to win against me. Him against me, not for me. She puts it in words what I cannot. He will not tell you but he will think about it and he will understand, he will know what he is doing. The Guru... Now me coming after him, threatening his position in the world. The all-knowing, the almighty. It makes perfect sense. Hearing her say this -my strong protective cousin- gives me such strength, such warmth in my heart, as if someone has crowned me the queen of the Universe. My body, my soul attempting to absorb her words, almost incapable as they have such power, making me mighty in this universe, in my world, in hers. In our family's. Safe space.

Mouse I was thinking of coming to see you again at the End of September. Will you stay until I'm coming? Our worlds connect, synchronizing through the phone and all times while I tell her the stories of a week, a year, two years, Elman is coming up the stairs bringing a new guest. Sara I say, I get up the stairs coming down to hug her. My heart is beating. I knew she was coming. I'm laughing. She's confused, I am not. I told my dad yesterday that you will come to the hostel. I was sure of it after our story in Albania. Having the universe synchronize in front of my eyes while I'm calling out the details, gives me deep sense of connection in this world, this life, our life. Every person passing by me, a friend smiling at me from the night before. From last week. My home. The room is quiet. We are all here together. She is waving at me smiling her sweet smile.

As I listen to the one who gave me the protection for my heart, writing in her diary that she would like to sit next to me and talk, being with me. Across the world, across continents I will not believe how my loves do not shy away from any effort to come to see me. Like the one who I was waiting for to finally physically connect for only two days to start off. Now she's across the globe not afraid to see what she could do to see me. 

My heart is melting from all these precious humans that are so rare, so profound like the air we are breathing. Making any place a home. Like this one right here and now. Lying on the couch, he switches off the lights you are in charge of the hostel. My safe space, every day, he knows, the dark in front of the counter. I’ll be back in 15 minutes, it’s your hostel you know that. Thank you for last night, really for your contribution. My dad. Through generations it was moving while he shared a secret with me, whispering asking for my help. Trust. 

Concluding the day by staying in bed I receive a message. I’m in the park by the hostel. Ah I did not really count on that but I’m extremely happy to see him again. Philo is how it feels. I jump in my shorts, grab my phone and go outside, another one opening the door for me, we’re laughing along while we walk alongside. I ask him if he could spot my friend for me as I’m mildly blind. He’s on the phone. Hearing his loving words even on the phone makes me feel as I feel every time when I see him. Safe. I give him a close hug and tumble next to him to the restaurant. As soon as we reach I can’t stop spilling. But before I can start he gives me the first feedback I needed. Wait again? Apparently he has this gift to exactly the things to me that I need to hear. You know it was really good meeting your dad, he’s a lot of fun but I can imagine you needed to learn to stop him, cut him off when he keeps talking, I can imagine this to be hard. Even from the outside it was obvious that he has no limits. I feel relief. I sigh, I laugh, we’re diving into the same topics of childhood again. It’s everywhere. It’s everyone. I enjoy every minute with him I think even if we didn’t talk. Honestly he’s recalling my calling, supporting it. Think about it. Really you could be a Georgian tour guide. Seriously. I would try to financially support you if you need help. He’s not ceasing to surprise me. We jump from A to B, from traveling, the journey of life, safe space, relationships and intimacy. I don’t feel like I have to be anything else than what I actually am with everything I am. He’s like one of the most comforting, soothing mirrors I had in a long time. He’s giving me peace of mind. In the end running into the girls from last night. All destroyed but happy. Do you remember everything from last night? She asks. I most certainly do. 

Seeing and being seen. Thank you Universe for keeping me safe. For supplying me with more than I could ever ask for. I will try my best to reciprocate the love I am given back into the world. One week of Magic putting pieces of puzzles together in a way I couldn’t see coming, yet much more beautiful. Bringing me friends in unexpected ways, connecting the past to my future adding precious details to my happiness. Time for rest, time for me. Back to Pachamama.