life ⁽⁴³⁾

Acceptance, understanding, and love. These are the three pillars on which my personal world now stands.

Every day, I try to think about how much I accepted, understood, and loved others today. And finding these things, they please me and give me hope.

Sometimes it doesn’t work out: you don’t accept, don’t understand, don’t love. It's painful of course, but I hold on to the fact that God accepts, understands, and loves me as imperfect, as human, as alive. It’s warm from this.

Here the circle is closed. And it's good outside and inside.

What are your KPIs of effectiveness?

The wind blew us from the lake, the waves looked like the sea, children dug trenches, scooped holes, looked for little shells. I almost cried from this moment. Life blew us, we felt the air we breathe. Rules, laws, limitations at this moment gave way to life, gave way to understanding the value of each moment. All this is temporary. Everything can end at any moment. And even if you were to live a full 100 years, it would be too little. Too little for such moments, too little for life. The rustle of a little leaf in the wind moves the clock's hand. This hand brings us closer to the end. How I want to meet again. Again in eternity: And let there be arguments, pain, complaints, and shouting. I will learn to love even that.

The wind blows us away.

Today I began taking a course on Coursera "Finding Purpose and Meaning In Life: Living for What Matters Most."

And as strange as it may be, the goal of seeking meaning is set to things quite close and daily to us. To seek the sense of our life and follow it to sleep better, work better, lose weight, have better relationships, etc.

It seems like such nonsense. It’s like meeting God in your life just to get an 8 on the exam or to request a promotion at work.

But I, too, began my journey with the same goal. Wanted to find the sense of life, my deep desire, to work more efficiently. And where is that work now? It simply faded before the silhouettes of meaning, desire, and depth.

So let it be, let people be enticed to seek meaning for something close and understandable.

Today, I would like to preserve in my memory.

It's the first day I actively employed logotherapy to help a close person who had lost the meaning in life and felt very unwell.

Although I didn't do anything complicated on my end, it was crucial for me. Logotherapy is a realm where the right ideas, tied to a person's purpose, grant them a renewed life. I don't know how this idea will unfold in my close one's future. However, I'm delighted that it stirred him, and I hope this thought provided him with hope and meaning. The fruits will emerge with time.

Being a psychotherapist is a significant challenge for me! A challenge to my character (imposing my meaning on others, propagating my ideas, influencing, arguing, and so much more). It's about listening, sensitivity, caution, holding one's tongue, and taking a long time to think before speaking.

This path is a considerable challenge for me. Where the purpose must triumph over character daily because there's a reason for it.

I embrace everyone and am very grateful to you for reading!

Two years ago, when I was once again planning to launch a new project (startup), I started to ponder. What deep and vital meaning am I putting into it? Why do I need it? Why should I care about those people to whom I wanted to offer an IT solution?

• I couldn't find an answer.

I delved into the search for meaning. I sought it solely for my business realization. So that, once found, I could pursue it to the end with genuine motivation and full strength, without straying off course. Now, to me, this quest feels like searching for a magical elixir of life to sprinkle on flowers. On this magical journey of seeking meaning, of searching for my profound and true Desire, I have re-evaluated many things.

Now, as I approach a new stage in life, I'm searching for my professional realization that resonates with my life's purpose. So far, I can describe this activity as: "Helping people in their search for their own meaning, in discovering their own true Desire." Clearly, I still need a few more years of studying to become a psychotherapist (or an existential therapist, or a psychoanalyst, while the work still revolves around meanings). To not delay the practical aspect, I could obtain a coaching certification and start dealing with simpler and standard issues, like choosing a profession, a workplace, or finding your personal place in all of this.

That's a brief insight into my plans.

Friends, do you ever feel anxious? For living well in harmony, peace, tranquility, and for things generally going your way? For having luck? For good relationships within the family? For successful projects? For a good job? For simply being alive? I do feel it, and the more things go my way, the more I feel this anxiety. I haven’t fully understood yet where it all comes from.

One of my hypotheses is that some law of fairness is being violated. Why do some of my acquaintances face family issues while things are good for me? Or someone faces tragedy, or has to work too hard, or gets unlucky in small or significant ways. And then you think, "Lord, this seems unjust." It's as if I should suffer a bit to balance things out. I sometimes feel as if I’m getting all these life's blessings on credit. And it triggers me.

On the other hand, I'm skeptical about this feeling and look for deceit. I fear that by receiving ordinary human happiness, I might be losing out on something more crucial. But that slips away from me, just at the level of intuition.

And thirdly, regarding fairness again. It feels like my happiness might be causing suffering to someone else who is less fortunate. Sometimes, I even want to hide my joy. Like when you talk about your relationships with your kids to someone who doesn't have any, or about your wife to someone who’s single or recently divorced. Or about how nice it is to stroll through the woods and to quit IT, to someone who is desperate to get into IT for a good salary.

Even writing this text, I did it with a great sense of guilt, anticipating the pain it might cause to some readers. Although, being honest with myself, I fear the judgment of these people. I know you, dear and wonderful people, won’t judge me. But those little voices in my head still haven’t entirely lost their power and fuel my self-criticism.

"Constantine, whoever you are, you have the right to be!" This beautiful thought inspires me. Sending hugs to everyone! Goodnight!

... Here, I've just read Ksyusha a frightening chapter from Tom Sawyer about murder, graves, exhumed bodies...

Ksyusha lay there, unable to sleep. And I was sitting, writing notes. Then I went to pray with Ksyusha. We prayed for Ksyusha, for her sleep, for everything to be well. And then I prayed for the characters in the book: for the murderer, for the one who died, and for the others.

I remember myself in childhood, and even now. You watch a movie or read a book with an intriguing plot, main characters, and dangers. You read and pray for them to be alright. For them to live happily. You feel deeply for them, as if they are real.

Maybe they are real inhabitants of our lives. What do you think?

Storm, storm rages! It rolls from side to side within me.

I always craved calmness before. Thoughts that instilled fear or simply anxiety were unwanted companions. And I did whatever I could to calm down. Mostly, it helped to go and easily sleep at any time of the day or night.

But now it's different. I feel the anxiety and I want to utilize it. I want to see what it brings with it. What it's about. There's no pleasure in this, but there's energy, and I need to use that energy. In all this anxiety, a certain existential meaning has emerged. Value. A moment I don't want to just miss or lose. Since I started savoring such states, the usual quiet life inside me seems bland. Like a dull routine. Though everything is good in moderation.

And right now, I'm reading to Ksyusha about the adventures of Tom Sawyer. Today was the chapter about the murder of the doctor in the graveyard at night. I wonder if I was hasty to read this to a seven-year-old girl. I'll go and pray with her for the night.

And to you, goodnight friends.

Kayaking is a wonderful thing. And the more wonderful it becomes, the quieter you go. Every paddle stroke on the water disrupts the beauty of silence and brings us closer to the end of kayaking. Similarly in life, we paddle to approach the end, rather than to live. On the other hand, when stuck in a dead-end, one needs to paddle hard to get out and move forward.

My dream: early morning kayaking in dense fog. Complete silence.

Profound, meaningful words get lost in fleetingness and become passwords.
"Christ is Risen! Indeed He is Risen!"
"Glory to Jesus Christ! Forever Glory!"
"Long Live Belarus! Long Live!"
"Glory to Ukraine! Glory to the Heroes!"

When you hear the first half, you know what response is expected from you.

If you don't give that response, you will be excluded from the community.
But the words themselves become passwords.
It doesn't matter what you think or what you want to say.
If you want to stay in the community, just say the right password.

This saddens me.

We do not know each other
But serious questions have arisen
Revealing our pains
Nakedly, we stand confronting them

The whole world is unknown to one another
There is faith that a conversation is possible
Yet words consume all meaning
And without words, a silent prayer

I speak not the right words
Deepening the agony...
But know that I wish for good
And through pain, towards light, to the end...

For some reason, I started to feel nauseated by IT. Somehow, it's become repulsive. I had previously perceived it as some sort of computer game, just with real-life quests and real money. But now, after feeling nauseous in VR, after using ChatGPT for meaningless projects, after a week of trying to set up prompt communication with Midjourney, I'm losing faith in IT. It's very engrossing and takes me away from life, from people, from myself.

Illustration "Dull computer crap." The image was generated in Midjourney. The prompt text was generated in ChatGPT.

So Ksusha calls you at night, Kostya, to guide her through the dark corridor to the bathroom. Lyuba has climbed onto the bunk bed, her legs dangling near the steps, but she's so scared she calls for you. Laughing and yielding to their fears, you go and help. You strive to teach them to climb up and down, so that they won't be afraid next time... And you, little Kostya, you're still young, you're worried, and in your life, there's fear. And help comes to you, and it's expected of you not to be afraid of those little things. So, let's be small, helping each other, protecting one another.

My boundaries have passed through wonderful places, and my inheritance is pleasant to me. Psalm 16:6