What a remarkably appropriate stick this is, how well fitted for today. How interesting that I pulled it out of my bunch now, of all times. Now that I sit in a hotel room in Poland, in Katowice, in the city I grew up in. The city I escaped from. The city that still haunts me in nightmares.

Here I am, shocked like a deer in the headlights, because I feel the past closing in around me. I feel a life that is over and done with, that is gone, long gone, coming back from its dark hole. Here I am. Not Pausha Foley anymore but Patrycja Gawronska. Again.

Clinging to Christopher with all my might – he is my shield against Polishness. My link to Pausha. My link to Pausha Foley. To the American life. To the French life. To the lives I created for myself.

But then this – this dark, hard, painful existence in this dirty, dark, crumbling city – have I created this too? Have I created my childhood full of fear and pain? Have I created the trauma that sent me for long years into apathy and obliviousness?

I would hesitate to answer this … maybe … has it not been for one night, long ago, in Los Angeles. I worked with the wizard that night. I went deep, deep into the source of me, into dark places and scary blanknesses filled with a terrifying father, with masculine abuse and feminine neglect, with collapse of my power, my autonomy, my soul. And then, when the time came to return to my body, I resurfaced accompanied by a thought:

interesting how I organized all those experiences for myself…

I have written about this before, many times in fact, but still the story comes back and demands to be told. It is a good story.

It happened when I sat in a club, a rock club to be precise, all by myself at a table, with a beer for company. I waited for friends to arrive. I was thinking.

How did I come to think about this surrounded by lights filtered through cigaret smoke, deafened by blaring rock and poked now and them by somebody’s studs or army boots, I do not remember. I thought about the way. The right way. The only way.

“It is straight and narrow, they say” I thought “so how do I find it? How do I know I walk it? How do I know I don’t?” I pondered and the questions faded away and melted into the smoky shadows.

“There is no way. There is no one way.”

In the absence of questions the answer became quite clear: there is no one way, neither narrow nor wide, neither right nor wrong. There is me, and I choose.

That was a significant thing for me to know right there, in that club, at that time. I was about to finish college, I was about to go out into the world and make a life for myself and it was very important for me to know that whatever I choose, whichever direction I’ll walk, it will be the right direction, it will be the right choice.

Because it will be mine.

Do you find yourself plagued by indecisions?

Are countless ideas, possibilities and plans engaged in a deathly, endless combat with predictions of outcomes, consequences and treacherous pitfalls and potential mistakes in the  confines of your head, paralyzing you? Do you struggle to take a step, to make a choice, to pick a direction in a world full of uncertainty and doubt?

If that is you — you came to the right place: the place where answers live! And the answer #1 to the “I don’t know what I want” dilemma is:

To discover what you want first find out who you are!

I did, I believe, one night long ago, when I sat in a little meditation hall. It was the last meditation period of the day, night reined outside enveloping the world in darkness and silence. There was a candle burning at the altar, it’s soft light edging silents, immobile forms out of the shadows. I was one of those — darkly clad, quiet, perfectly still.

Outside.

There were things happening inside, I remember them only vaguely, my thoughts were losing definition, the edges of the world were blurring, something whirled and turned upside-down and suddenly, as I looked at the hardwood floor before me I realized that … I am the floor!

I stared in astonishment and amusement — it was so funny! I was the floor! I should be quiet, I remembered, so I smothered the laughter but then, in the next moment the floor was gone, I was gone, everything was gone in an endless, boundless space.

There was such peace, such calm, such fundamental silence there, and then … I saw a flea.

A small, agitated black flee, hopping up and down trying to tear a little bit of that oneness, of that silence, of that boundlessness for itself. The flea wanted it separated, clearly defined, it’s. It yanked and jerked and pulled, yet the space would not break.

“Oh, this is my mind!” it occurred “it is the mind that wants to tear a piece of me out of the rest of me”.

How silly!

Have you noticed, did you know that perfect societies exist? Maybe in imagination only, yes, but still they do — places where beings, humans, live in perfect peace for there is no reason for violence. Did you know? You might not have realized if you are not a lover of stories, but there are places, realms, worlds were human lives are devoted to growth and expression, entirely. Where no one lacks for food nor shelter, where there is no need to strive, to gain, to protect, to survive. There is only freedom to be what you are. To grow and create and experience.

Do you know which stories are those? Which people?

Those who do not die.

Elves, wizards, the immortals. Free of the nagging fear, free of the all consuming drive just to live, just not to die — they live fully and completely. And they enjoy living.

I have thought about this for the last few days. I have thought about this since the day when the famous boobs came off in defense against death. I wondered — what would I have said if asked about my flagrant disregard for yearly checkups, mammograms and cancer protections, my lack of interest in defenses against disease, defenses against death?

What would I say if asked why do I not strive to survive, to gain, to protect, to remain alive just one more day, just one more?

I would say: death is not a problem.

I would say: death is not a problem because I will not end. The body will change, the mind will dissolve and I will transform, graduate and open to the next adventure. I rather look forward to that.

I would say: death is not a problem. Fear is.

Without the fear of dying I am free to live life that is nothing but freedom to be what I am. To grow and create and experience. Free of the need to strive to gain, to protect, to survive.

I would say: death is not a problem because it is not an end — it is a change.

I would say: avoiding death is not my purpose. Avoiding change is not my purpose.

My purpose is to live well.

My purpose is to die well.