Soul Close
A space dedicated to the human-centric story, its nuances, highs and lows, morals and teachings.I've been travelling the world, living in Hong Kong, Bali, London, Sofia, meeting all types of different characters, exploring routines, rituals and religions. Whilst it all seemed so different and colourful from the outside, the truth behind the many layers was simple. A soul that we all have, a trait that unites us all, a longing for contact, love, sharing and affection that lives inside us all. The beauty of being human.
Come closer
Welcome to my archive of stories, thoughts, reflections and poetry. Enjoy the party.
Recently, I shared a very special,intimate jazz evening. 12 chairs, 4 musicians, endless internal emotions, smiles, rhythm taps and absolute delight.
I wondered why do I love jazz so much? Then I thought...well, jazz is a metaphor for life really.
First of all it’s very chaotic. It starts one way and you have no idea how it would end up, what turns it would take. Would it slow down, or would it accelerate rapidly? It sounds cheerful, then suddenly it takes a darker turn. It has and knows no boundaries. It simply cannot be contained. It flows and pours…until the musician says it’s over. It’s absolutely unpredictable. Sometimes you are so close to thinking you know how it unfolds and yet again it surprises you. Life, right? Or wait, jazz actually.
Second, it has no rules. It’s absolutely lawless, yet it makes sense. It creates its own rules. Yet they change with every piece. Sometimes they change several times per piece. A universe with its own code of conducts, which is not written, as it simply could not be put into words and orders.
These two reasons are plenty for me to fall in love with it. For appreciating its very own, distinctive yet invisible boundaries, its changing rhythm, its nuances, the feelings it calls upon and imposes. What’s not to love about jazz or about life actually? There's always a surprise up the sleeve. Not a single dull moment. Wouldn't it be so boring to know how the story unfolds? I know, I wouldn't want to know either.
Autumn is a transitory period. We clean up our wardrobes, putting the tank tops and shorts to bed for a long winter sleep and filling their space with cozy jumpers, hoodies, scarfs. We start craving warmer foods like pumpkin soup, potato mash and that stew your mom used to make. We start focusing on upcoming projects, we put some new personal milestones and objectives, we go back to building healthy habits.
Our emotions go through a transition too. From flying free as big colourful kites, they become a bit more introspective and nostalgic. Our hearts, perhaps, go a little bare. We feel that in the colder season, we want to shower them with love and affection and keep them warm.
The autumn blues hit me a couple days ago and at first, of course, I closed myself up in my little ‘cave,’ not letting anybody in, not wanting to reach out to anyone and just staying with my own rather darker-nuanced thoughts. This self-indulgent suffering brought me nowhere, so on day 3, I decided to share how I felt with some of my closest people. It was surprising yet comforting to find out that so many of my friends were feeling this shift too, both externally and internally.
Many times resilience goes hand in hand with humour. I often discuss people’s life chapters, characterised by darkness, pain and suffering. The interesting thing is that almost 90% of the time, I sense a slice of comedy, shared within the ominous story of the narrator.
At first, my take was that this was a protective mechanism- something that doesn’t allow people to be completely vulnerable in the strangers’ eyes. Now I see this as a mean to survive- as something as necessary as oxygen. A tool that brings out a smile from a rusty box that was long drenched by salty tears.
I was speaking to my friend Kate- one of those women who look like a superhuman from the outside.Beautiful, determined, motivated and never in a self-pity mode. We had a long catch up as we hadn’t spoken to each other in years. She had fled to the US with a guy, who had an American citizenship and had promised to help her out with her own documents.
My friend Meg was whining to me about that guy we met on a group dinner in Bali some months back. It was a beautiful setting of delicious Indo food, plated right in front of the sunset that was showing off with its pomegranate shades. Meg and me, a friend of mine and the guy in question, sharing a bite, a stunning view and a great conversation. The man Meg was talking to was indeed smart, handsome, successful, I could see how he could be “a catch.” The setting was ideal for a first meet up with me, being Meg’s comfort stick, and the rest of the atmosphere being beautiful and relaxing enough to invite quality conversations. I observed that Meg and the man kind of clicked- they were talking, laughing, enjoying the music that was playing.
After one too many bottles of champagne and a slice of gluten-free chocolate cake (I mean it’s Bali after all), we hopped on Meg’s scooter and went back home.
Recently, news broke that Match(the owner of Tinder, Hinge and other dating apps)will integrate real-life dating coaches in the process of curating the ideal candidates for their users. It will no longer be the algorithm solely showing you the best Mr or Mrs around. A human will actually sit in the back-end, checking your photos from the vacation in the Philippines, where you dove with a tiger shark, and will set out to find a match that also has an adventurous spirit or at least knows how to swim.Well this would of course happen for 5$/week.
I found this piece of news fascinating! Every year there are numerous reports on how AI, machine-learning and the plethora of other digital developments will replace the human force. The reports are often ominous and beyond stress-inflicting as they make us reconsider the value of what we’re bringing in, they threaten us about being left jobless and just leave us not feeling great with ourselves.
I’ve always had a love and hate relationship with birthdays. At times, when I wasn’t feeling great in my skin or with myself, I’d opt in for a tiny gathering with friends whom I saw as my support network. At other times, when feeling on top of the wave, I’d host a bubbly, colourful soiree, uniting different people, dancing and sipping on bubbles till early morning.
Turning 27 gives me a different perspective that’s a bit higher level than just the celebration itself. The more I ponder on it, the more grateful I am for this day. I now perceive it as a moment of appreciation for one’s soul. An occasion to...
The game we play
One of the great root causes behind suffering and unhappiness is the ‘should’ condition. We suffer from the ‘should’ condition when we adopt limited and narrow views on how things should be done, what should be liked, what should be disliked. This condition isolates us from those around us. It turns judging others into a natural reflex, the first resort we go to when we are identifying or labeling a person. The ‘should’ condition hands us a black pencil and makes us start drawing lines on a white canvas, creating clear boundaries between ‘us’ and ‘them’.
I find human transitions fascinating. By transitions I mean any change of mental state, triggered by events, emotions, epiphanies and so on. It’s really a privilege being able to contemplate such a personal change of someone who’s close to you, as the more you’re contemplating, the more you’re understanding how people work. What defines the break or make moment. How we evolve, spiritually and mentally.
I had dinner with a friend visiting from Singapore- Charlie. We’d always have fun when being out together, but it would mostly be light chatter, banter, sharing the general ‘so how have you been, how was the weather’ kind of questions and stories. That’s how we’d usually start our discussions.
Well, this time it was different.
My dad hated travelling. Now that I think about it, he wasn’t as open-minded as my imagination liked to portray him. I,on the other hand, love exploring, whether it would be a nearby mountainous track in my hometown or a remote tiny island somewhere in Asia. So naturally, a couple months after he passed away, I booked a trip for me and my mom. Zakynthos- the magical Ioanian island of Greece with mediterranean turquoise waters and partly submerged sea caves. The trip was a part of an organised excursion so part of the challenge was actually getting there. How?With a bus from Sofia.
A push and pull
The game we play
You call, I cancel
I write- no answer
A maze of mental streets
Is how we chase
You catch a glimpse
I soften up the pace
Do we ever tire?
I wish we hit a pause
Craving a moment to admire
That little space between us
We thought we knew
You speak of love,
Yet you use words as sharp,
As broken chunks of glass.
A single touch and heavy drops
Of merlot-coloured blood
Start pounding from my heart
To the marble floor that’s cold
You think you know of love,
But how you love is how I hurt
The screams, dressed in well put thoughts,
Find me in the heavy traffic
Start pulling down my coat
Until they grab me by the throat
And tell me ‘Run away’
I thought I knew of love,
But found that staying
When I ought to go
Doesn’t equal love, but equals
Pain and stars of anger
Desperate light and empty hope
Maybe I ought to go
There are a few stereotypical traits uniting taxi drivers from all around the world- grumpiness, over-talkativeness and clairvoyant abilities, allowing them to see and know the answers to the major world problems. Pity they don’t get a special sit in the parliament, right?
Most of you must have shared my experience- a tired and in a hurry you jumps in a cab and wants to get from A to B in the fastest way possible and... in SILENCE. Well, you should have kept walking. We all know what we’re in for during most of those rides.
There’s always the driver who has hacked the corona virus code through mystical practices, herbs and ointments. There is the one who has developed an elaborate conspiracy theory and it goes well beyond the bat meat. The driver who has figured out life and the key to making a marriage work through transparent (or silent) polygamy. And finally, the one who doesn’t necessarily talk, but puts on the worst radio station with heavy Balkan hits and asks if you mind him having a cigarette in the car, whilst driving.
However, there are moments when even the most cynical ones of us get surprised.
That eve, that was me.
Growing up, I used to be a tomboy and play with a lot of boys. We’d gather in our backyard and kickball until dinner, when my dad would summon me from the balcony, by whistling his signature ‘it’s time to come up’ melody.
I’d eat my meal as quickly as possible and get back to the backyard to play some more. We’d get lost in games, until the moon starts shining as bright as a lightbulb on top of our heads, which were too busy to notice that it had gotten way beyond bedtime.
It’s not that I didn’t have any girlfriends- I did. Yet our friendship was often driven by competition. It wasn’t as fun as playing and getting lost in the moment. It was a race of who will get the most attention from boys, who were just hitting puberty and discovering the art of kissing. Who’d get the best grades. Who’d be the teacher’s pet. Plenty of ‘who’s’.
The pause between the waves
Could be the actual symphony
The joy between the tears
Could be how happiness appears
The hurry of the day
Could be just a tool to get away
From the peace and quiet that's within
That has nor start nor ending in between
To learn to press the pause
Could be a delicate mastery
One if perfected truthfully
Could bring the warmth within
“I just don’t like you anymore,”he said over the phone.
“But I don’t know how to live without you, I can’t live without you,” she replied back.
“Then just don’t” was all he answered.
These were the words that put an end to a 21-year-long marriage. After a crazy Moroccan summer filled with kitesurfing, tanning, swimming and eating delicious food, Sarah came back to their shared home a few days before Paul, as he was staying longer to catch the last surf days. She was feeling good, relaxed, in harmony. The evening she arrived back, Paul called her, announcing he wanted to separate. They had a short, cold conversation.
Sarah felt like being showered with heavy, cold rain on a gray winter day.It wasn’t a gentle summer drizzle- the drops were big and rough and somehow could penetrate through and burn her skin. These 21 years of marriage were the majority of her adult life. Her and Paul shared a son together, a home, a life. When he told her that since she didn’t know how to live without him, it was best to stop trying, she believed that.
“Kintsugi,” otherwise known as the “golden repair” method, is the Japanese craft of fixing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with gold or silver. Once repaired, the piece is viewed as even more valuable and unique, and the breakage as an irreplaceable part of its life history. Originating as a way of fixing the emperor’s broken pottery, the method has also become a way of viewing life and accepting the cracks and amendments along the way as a part of the journey. A fascinating philosophy and ‘craft’ that can be practiced in our lives and relationships daily.
When I was a kid, we often summoned at our backyard and played till dusk. It was endless fun, but also a way of exploring the power dynamics at a very early age. We were a big gang and there was always a group leader, setting a tone for the games.
I was often that person, until Veronique showed up and became a part of our ‘clique.’ Veronique and I shared a lot of similarities, mainly united around the desire to exercise control over things and to have a voice that’s heard.
When it comes to people who are very similar, relationships can go in two ways- either people ‘click’ instantly and become inseparable or they just repel like a basketball, hitting the corner of a hoop.
First dates are exhilarating and refreshing. It’s like facing a blank white canvas and envisioning what you could do with the palette available. There’s always the tendency of over-ordering and under-eating. There is just too much to be said, quite a few glasses to be cheers-ed to and sometimes too many butterflies to be tamed. Everything else stays in the background as a theatrical set up that’s not necessarily needed, but does make up the scene. Some people are in love with first dates-the serial first daters. They are familiar with the sweet taste of the novelty, the tingling excitement of the unknown and the attractive questionmark of the ‘what could it be.’
I guess that’s true for all the firsts well beyond the first dates. Do you remember the last time you saw a new place for the first time? Your astonishment, the expansion of your pupils, the taking in of the colors and silhouettes. It’s a mini high. Sometimes a big one.Trying an unfamiliar dish for the first time and just melting away at the sensation of that first bite. Slowing down, tasting all the nuances and richness and elongating the pleasure. The bites afterwards could be delicious too, but really cannot compare to that very first one.
We have a popular Bulgarian saying going along the lines of “The morning brings more wisdom than the evening.” I wasn’t able to understand it before, but as with everything else, once you live through it, you truly grasp the concept.
The evening thoughts inhabit a whole different brainwave zone. In scientific terms, they are characterized by being slow waves, but in ‘human’ terms they could be romantic, nostalgic, often dark. Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night, struck by an alarming thought that just won’t let you fall back asleep? The evenings, especially when alone, are the perfect timing for the thoughts provoked by fear and stress to crawl out and throw a party in our minds. The typical ones include: “Do I know what I’m doing with my life? Should I be here? Should I move to a different time zone? Should I call my ex?” and many more.
Those are the worst times to make an actual life decision, to book that ticket or to send that message. If one goes successfully over that hurdle, then half of their work is done, since the morning would bring thoughts that are rather more balanced, calm and could be saturated with as much truth as the evening ones.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about human connection. Why do we connect with some people and why can’t we connect with others? How come we sometimes create a great bond with someone with whom previously it was impossible to get close to?
I imagine our souls as liquid gold- ever in motion and ever changing their never still shape. That momentarily shape and position defines our soul’s frequency at this point and navigates us. When it comes to connection, facts are useless. There is an invisible matter that creates a tie, making us feel close to someone, understood, heard. That’s why it’s often inexplicable how and why we fall for people who are so far from what we’ve imagined our partner to be or how we instantly befriend someone who, a couple of weeks before, was a complete stranger to us.
We all know this couple that’s just perplexingly together. A bond that doesn’t seem intuitive from the outside yet somehow working and going strong. I have a close friend, dating a Spanish guy, whom I finally met recently. My first thought when I saw him was- “that’s not gonna last.” Fiery, a tad of a drama king and getting into polar moods for seconds, I just couldn’t see the ‘why’. However, when they come together, the love and connection becomes obvious, regardless of how I profile his character. When the storm quiets down, the ocean smoothens, the sun rises and the whole thing starts to look like a Van Gough landscape.
We play the lover and the friend
We love and then we hold somebody’s hand
A shift, a drift, a flowing movement of the soul
A head that suits so many hats of all
The many roles we have to play
Mother, daughter, perhaps a sister too
The way a single rivers travels through
The flat, the curvy and the steep
A single essence, a beaming light
Uniting us in that play of life
A soul that travels and transcends
Whilst being everything and anything today
I was reading a book yesterday and I stumbled upon a section that made me pause and ponder: “Youth has the right to experience things. Wisdom has the duty to be patient, even though she knows the answers. I guess this is one of the ways one can show love- not to take away the right of someone else to make their own mistakes.
The passage simplifies in a great way why we have these constant parent-child dramas and fights, why we often find the elderly to be annoying, when trying to gift us with some morals and lessons, why we insist on making the jump, even though people tell us the chasm is too wide and deep.
Love and awareness can truly be expressed through patience and willingness to accept that the other needs to walk their way with their own mistakes and scratches, even though they might be a mirror of your own. I guess that’s what makes parents so worried in general- they see their own aching, flashing in front of their eyes and they just don’t want their kids replicating it. However, it’s truly never exactly the same. It’s still a martini, but with a twist. We add a spicy olive instead of a regular one or we serve it in a tall Collins glass instead of using a cocktail one.
Context defines everything. When you’re at a Michelin star restaurant experiencing the tasting menu, it’s great to be served some sorbet as a palate cleanser. When it comes to human relationships, it’s unfortunate to be the sorbet in between meals. I guess we’ve all been there and we’ve also all had our fair share of sorbet to make us forget the previous taste and prepare us for the next one.
Nobody likes to be a side, we all long to be someone’s main at some point and when things turn out differently, it hits us in our ego and leaves a mark. However, what could be comforting is knowing that without realizing, we’ve played a role in someone’s script that has completely redefined the direction or development of their life story. A scene would be completely different if stripped from the extras. A movie would be incomplete without its supporting roles. It’s the same with life. Taking a bird eye view and contemplating who has played a supporting role in our own life or has passed by as a background extra gives us a great perspective. We realize that although we shared a passing moment with that person, in some way it led us to our next chapter. In some way it was key.
People say that when ending a relationship, one needs half of its duration to recollect, recover and heal in order to move on. However, we often jump prematurely into something, without being ready for it. Sometimes it’s boredom, sometimes it’s emptiness, sometimes it’s thirst for novelty. Whatever the reason, we often let it speak to us loudly, so we can hear it and obey it conveniently. Truth is often silent. We know it, we recognise it, yet we pray for something to distract us with its high pitch sound.It’s simply easier.
When we’re in a relationship, we naturally share a piece of our heart. We leave without taking it, as we need time to properly let it heal and become whole again. The trouble is that we often meet someone that makes us forget the pain for a while, which makes us want to love and want to share our heart again. However, that someone on the opposite side is often also carrying a heart with a missing piece. They also loved before us. They left and jumped towards us, with the same desire to love again. The inconvenient truth is that two incomplete hearts can’t make one whole. Love needs two full hearts in order to function property, to be healthy, sustainable and nourishing.
I was at a Deep Purple concert recently and the first thing I thought to myself was, ”Man, they’re old.” It was like watching a show of the Retiree Club. Kind of sweet, but also kind of beyond the expiration date. It is awe-inspiring that someone at 75+ years old gets up on stage in front of 10,000 people, grabs the mic and entertains the crowd for 2 hours. However, it also could feel a little pressured and unnecessary. It’s like taking that dusty 30-year-old Mustang from the garage for a ride just to reminisce about the good old days, even though you secretly know it’s gonna give up on you 5 miles later.
The notion of knowing when to quit pertains to everything- work relations, personal relationships, career paths. As in the case of the rock idols, it seems much more glorious to retire whilst you’re on top, venerated and pumping with infectious energy. Of course it’s much easier said than done. What are you left with after quitting something you’ve been doing your whole life? Often, the answer is depression and a liquor cabinet. However, there are those cases in which this personal or professional pivot becomes one of the best decisions ever made.
Слънчева събота с дъх на ново начало.
Бавно се събирахме в уютната планинска къща. Прииждахме на групи. Непознати, усмихнати, може би дори озадачени.
Веднага завързахме контакт и приказка, но някак предпазливо. Говорихме за общи неща. Вълнуваше ни пътя дотук, гледките, чистият въздух.
Седнахме на вечеря. Отворихме бутилка червено вино с аромат и вкус на боровинки. Последва още една, а после още една.
Наслаждавахме се вкупом на всичко около нас- на храната приготвена с любов и грижа от домакините ни, на атмосферата, на руйното вино. Разговорите станаха по-ярки, но все още в любезната граница на 'непознатите.’
Следващият ден стартира с движение- споделено и тонизиращо. Близостта растеше с всяко физическо предизвикателство. Последва питателна Родопска закуска и много щастливи усмивки. Беседа, а после и обяд. След обяда имахме свободно време, но някак вече не искахме да се откъсваме толкова един от друг. Бяхме станали любопитни и изследователски настроени. Искахме да знаем повече за вселената на другия, искахме да се потопим в неговия свят.
Красиво е, нали?
Този едър люляк, напращял и тежък,
В пластмасова кофа от вар
Той просто е,
Без претенция и фасон
Тежи,намирисва, понася те за ръка
Към онова тайно място
Помниш ли когато беше дете?
Там където ходихте с таласъмите
Свиквахте събрание и обсъждахте
Всички смели мечти
Е, голям си вече и знаеш,
Че най-сложната проста мечта
Е да бъдеш- тук и сега
Да обичаш-живота и мен
Помириши люляка и си спомни.
Красиво е, нали?
Ще започна деня с топло, ароматно какао
Ще се завия през глава да посънувам още малко
Напоследък сънищата са мимолетни, а животът някак вкусен
Ставам с тъмни кръгове и жажда, за живот и прочие
Не слагам и коректор, казват несъвършенствата били красиви
А аз седя и си мисля как вечно искам да съм жадна