Love Love ⁽²⁷⁾

I have some small reflections about Jesus Christ, and how the Gospel story about Him changed my perception of life.

I understand that I lived by the Rules of the Law for quite a long time. And these Rules always spoke of condemnation. Only the perfect man could avoid condemnation. If you break the law, you are guilty. Fear of the law, fear of mistakes, life is measured by inaction. The way out of this state is death. No man - no mistakes. No man - no violation of the law.
But who is that superhuman who strives not to violate and does not violate?
In my opinion - a fanatic, a pragmatic idealist. A man who put one single desire at the core of his life - not to make mistakes and not to be condemned. I'm writing now and I'm trembling all over. That's how I tried to live, such reactions and patterns of behavior I developed within myself.

The alternative that Jesus Christ brought to me:
Be free from sin, stop putting it first. If your eye is only on this sin and looks - then this fills your whole life.
And here Jesus walks the earth, talks to "sinners", without paying attention to their sins. Not dividing people by this criterion. He seems to say - it doesn't matter. This is not life itself. He says Be Love. He Loves.

And in my life, I sometimes face a choice - to break the law or to love.
To fulfill a duty, or to go play with the children. To focus on the bad or on the good. Or to refuse the good, because with the good - sin.

Because with every good deed, with every act of love, evil and sin go together. And I think that I should not stop love, because of a sin next to it. But we must fight against sin, so that there is less and less of it in our love.

Here's a man lying drunk on the grass, we came to him, lifted him up, helped him get home. He come into the house and beat his wife, swore at the children.
Did we become accomplices to the crime?

P.S.: "The servants of the householder came and said to him, 'Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?' He answered, 'An enemy has done this.' The servants said to him, 'Then do you want us to go and gather them?' But he replied, 'No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, "Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn."  Matthew 13

When you pull or trample the weeds in a child's heart, the wheat of sincerity and truthfulness might also get trampled. I think the focus should be on nurturing the good wheat of a loving and sincere heart in my daughter. And the weeds will be taken care of when the time comes. Though, undoubtedly, everything is millions of times more complicated and doesn't fit such simple hypotheses.

A dirt road. A handrail. The creak of a wooden platform. A key in a rusty lock. The eerie clatter of chains. The oars are released. I was warned that if the locals call the police, just reassure them that everything is fine and that there's an arrangement. However, it feels like Dasha and I are stealing a boat in the middle of the night. Finally, we've unwound the chains. As we climbed in, we realized there's no guarantee the boat won't capsize. The phone flashlight does illuminate somewhat, but mostly blinds us. We decided not to go far. Goosebumps cover our skin. The sound of oars hitting the water. Occasional bubbles. From time to time, a fish jumps out. In the nearby forests, dogs bark. It was supposed to be romantic. Stars in the sky without any light pollution. The stars are beautiful. We even found a candle and lit it. The other one didn’t light. A thermos with hot tea. Small cups. Tasty candies. But through all of this, our vulnerability. Our fears laid bare before each other, that's where the beauty lies. We sat and shared our anxieties and fears, which was comforting. Every now and then, I'd get so engrossed in our conversation. The backdrop against which I saw Dasha (the lake surface, shadows from the dark forest, the dark forest itself, some distant lights, stars) resembled a Zoom or Google Meet background. An unreal backdrop. Another challenge was finding the dock. We'd been carried away by the unnoticed current. Reeds brush against the oars. The boat scrapes against another boat. All these sounds, like whispered human voices. We immediately thought there were people nearby. But it was only the sounds of the night. Such a little journey into the mysteries of our soul.

I'm afraid of many things. But I'd like to live my life facing those fears, with depth, meaning, and true love. True love conquers fear.

Thank you, my beloved, for agreeing to such an adventure.

"The one for whom I walked to the cross, carries me in her arms."

Thank you, my love. Meeting you was a turning point in my life. That hidden part of a magical fairy tale, which usually starts from the end and is never voiced, touched me. I live in it. In the fairy tale with you. Where every moment is unpredictable. Where challenges alternate with rewards, solitude with unity, joy with sorrow, tension with relaxation. I feel a deep need for you, and I believe you feel the same need for me.

Let's dance, the dance of our life, and even death will not part us.

Why don't I want to write today? I force myself. Even grudgingly. What happened? I desire something very important and profound, possibly new and impressive. Do I want to feel something? I want to feel that I've touched grace. Or rather, that grace touched me. I want to feel grace. But you can't summon it, you can't drive it. In this matter, no practices, techniques, or manipulations will help. All these methods can only prepare the soil for the arrival of Grace, for the coming of the Spirit. And directly, they cannot grow in a person love, joy, peace, and further down the list, all that are the fruits of the Spirit. These lofty matters cannot become the fruits of Law, calculation, logic, correctness, reflexes, and so on and so forth. .... And the Spirit is like the Wind. "The wind blows where it pleases, and you hear its sound, but you don’t know where it comes from or where it’s going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." John 3:8

Accept your every state, give each part of yourself a place to be, listen to yourself. Don't be afraid to start a conversation with yourself. Ask questions and answer them, even though this path promises nothing. Such a step into the abyss. A step with faith and hope.

In my life, these steps are justified. Specifically, the steps where you don't know what awaits you. And then there are the steps that follow the carrot tied to a stick. They go in an endless circle. Saliva flows, life goes on, and you're always just about to have everything in your hands. And you walk in a circle, chasing the "treasure" that runs from you at arm's length. And so, without end or edge.

Let's step forward, friends, deep within ourselves, deep into the truth, deep into the mysteries.

A rocking chair. Street. Clouds. Porch.
Ksenia comes out from around the corner.
A sad pace. Eyes looking down.

• Ksusha, what happened?
• I accidentally hit Luba with a jump rope. She came under it herself... Come here, my dear. Sit on my lap. Don’t be sad; things happen. Ksenia lies in my arms.

- - - 

It seems to me that I slightly understand her. Those thoughts circling her mind, emerging here and there. "How bad I am, why am I so bad, but Luba is good, and I am wicked..." How heavy these thoughts weigh on her, how they engulf her. There are actions after which this burden rolls over her like an avalanche. She rightly feels like a victim (not a victim of our judgment), but a victim of her own thoughts. She feels terrible, sad, and self-destructive. It escalates so quickly, and from my side, I might inadvertently add fuel to her fire.

In a nutshell, the situation looks like this: Luba came under it, Ksusha couldn't control herself and hit Luba. Luba cries, she's in pain and needs consolation. But Ksusha shifts her focus to her own tragedy and forgets about Luba. Or she becomes even more angry at Luba because through her, she faced her unbearable self again. And I say/yell: Look what you've done! Go and apologize to Luba!

- - - 

And there she lies in my arms, and I comfort her. "You are a good daughter. Don't be sad. All of us sometimes do bad things. It happens. You are good. You are not the same as your actions. You don't need to meet all our expectations. You can be yourself, and we will love you regardless of whether you do as we want or not. Listen to your heart, Ksusha, there you will hear the answers."

These words, about the answers that can be heard in the heart, resonated with her. Throughout the day, she approached me three times, whispering: "How can I hear answers in my heart? Dad, teach me."

I postponed this conversation as long as I could. On her third request, I set a time. "Today, after our evening reading, we will talk about it before bedtime."

Of course, all day I pondered what to discuss with Ksusha before sleep. I don't have any method that even I could use to hear answers in my heart.

The time for our conversation arrived.

"You know, Ksusha, it's best to first ask questions in the heart. Questions that you really want answers to. Questions that move you. For example: Who are you? How are you? What matters to you? Why do you want this or that? Why sometimes don't you want something? ..."

"Dad, can I ask why I sometimes have thoughts that you don't love me?" "That's because your dad once thought he was very smart. All foolish people think so. And so your dad (me) thought, if Ksusha does something wrong, she should be put in the corner. So she would understand right from wrong. That's how I kept sending you to those corners. Instead of accepting you, hugging you when you made mistakes. I pushed you away. And you went to the corner. I thought I did it out of love. For you. But please forgive me, dear Ksusha, I was very foolish. I love you, Ksusha." "Dad, I don't remember any of that, what you're talking about." "Yes, Ksusha, you don't remember it, but you have thoughts. That I don't love you when you do something wrong because there were such events before. Forgive me, Ksusha, I didn't want to hurt you. But I was very foolish. I didn't want to love, I wanted to discipline. I love you." "Okay, dad." "Ksusha, do you feel better after our talk?" "Yes, dad, thank you. I love you. I know you love me. But why were you so foolish?" "I didn't listen to my heart, Ksusha. I didn't understand anything." "Well, okay, dad." "Ksusha, can I write about our conversation? And tomorrow, I'll read to you what I've written." "Yes, I agree." "Good night, beloved Ksusha." "Good night, dad."

I step out to my beloved forest edge. The sun illuminates everything around, the eye rejoices, the heart fills with love, everything is embraced by trust and security. The forest is alive. This patch of forest can be easily overlooked from a helicopter or Google Maps. But who can fathom its depth? Everything that happens in this patch? The forest is vast in its essential depth. One could study it endlessly, and it will always be different...

The sun hid behind dark clouds, the wind howled, the forest plunged into darkness. Fear engulfed me. I don't feel safe. Even though I have a flashlight in my hands, and in that flashlight burns a tiny flame. But what is this little flame for such a forest, to illuminate it? I don’t know what to do. The memory of how the forest looks in the light inspires me. Now I don't recognize the paths, the trees. Everywhere I look, I'm scared. I am afraid of the forest, I want to illuminate it. I want to somehow make it bright. The forest remains silent; I can't find out why it's in darkness, why it's struggling, if it will ever end and if it will end at all?

My language is the language of the flame in the flashlight. It wants to break free and light up the entire forest. Branch by branch, tree by tree. My flame wants to save the whole forest from darkness. And this has happened before. It broke free, and the forest burned in flames. The forest burned to the ground. Light spread, but it wasn't true light. It was a destructive light.

This time, I entered the dark restless forest. I left the flame in the flashlight. The flame remained silent and listened to the forest. The tiny light of the flame in the flashlight gently warmed the forest. The forest knew that I, with my flashlight, was waiting for light. Both the forest and I knew we just had to wait. Understand and accept the darkness. Allow it to exist in the forest. Not to fight the darkness so fiercely, not to lose what you love. The forest also feared the flame. It knew the flame could burn everything down.

We stayed silent for a long time. We built trust in each other. We allowed the darkness to exist. The forest began to feel better. The forest began to speak, and I just quietly listened. With each word the forest uttered, the clouds dispersed, and the sun illuminated branch by branch, tree by tree.

Now when there's darkness in the forest, I'll find the strength within me to go and wait, to go and listen. I don't want to lose love; I want to wait for the light.

A wonderful and profound film about experiencing guilt imposed from childhood. It's about how love, friendship, and empathy pull a person out of a vicious cycle of self-hatred. It reveals the possibility to live. It seems the Japanese made it, but it's so relatable to situations experienced by people in our homeland. I believe this movie can be therapeutic for those who are going through something similar.

I recommend a beautiful viewing.

Every person is imperfect, it can be said this is a criterion of humanity, the norm of being human. This is what allows us to communicate, love, empathize, understand, accept, and be accepted. Through all this imperfection, the best phenomena in the world shine through. An imperfect person: makes mistakes, hurts others, misses, breaks, causes harm, doesn't tolerate, shouts, can't love, doesn't understand...

All this is very human; there's no catastrophe in it. Every misunderstanding is covered by understanding, and every mistake is countered with a good deed.

I long suffered from a simple thought: "I have the right to exist only if I'm perfect."

This thought pushed me out of reality. Because in reality, I'm not perfect. But in my own invented (safe) world, everything revolves around one point - I'm awesome, I'm a superstar. It's nauseating to live with such a self-righteous attitude. The entire world, people around, things I do, they serve only one function for me: situations where I must be the HERO and people who must affirm it. The cycle is complete.

"Yahoo!!! I came up with a brilliant idea, now we friends will all pull together, work for free, and my family will survive on basics for a while. But then we'll make millions! - I'm awesome, I'm a superstar! After 3 months. Friends, I see all the flaws in this idea, we need to wrap it up. I managed to see the essence of things and overcome my past self. Let's disband and move on. We worked for free, and that's enough! - I'm awesome, I'm a superstar."

"Dear and beloved, are you struggling? Feeling bad? Don't know what's happening with you? - Don't worry, I'll sort everything out. After all, I'm awesome, I'm a superstar. And you're the wife of the world's best husband! Here's what I'll tell you. We have the best family in the world, you're the most beloved wife. We're the happiest people on the planet. Why are you so down? Why are you struggling? Perhaps something inside you broke, because objectively, everything's really great. But I'll help you fix everything inside you and see how everything is actually good and wonderful."

"Beloved, are you scared? - Don't be scared, everything's fine. Because I'm awesome, I'm a superstar."

"My dear, do you think I earn too little? - What are you talking about? Look at the homeless. Look at the women who are alone, without a husband. And you, you're practically a queen. I provide for the family, and you don't have to work. I'm awesome, I'm a superstar! You probably forgot that with me, you'll be happy even in a tent in the middle of a field."

"Kids, if you've done something wrong, go stand in the corner. This is my signature parenting technique. I brilliantly came up with it. I'm awesome, I'm a superstar."

"Our company, it's a company of friends. We never intended to make money, like all the other idiots. Only I, only I can give you all this. I'm awesome, I'm a superstar."

"Oh, I really messed up here. But look, see how fearlessly I admit my mistakes. I'm awesome."

"I'm the most sinful on earth, I'm not awesome, I'm not a superstar. Sounds cool. Look how critically I look at myself. What a sharp perspective on life. I'm awesome, I'm a superstar!"

"Do you want to advise me on something? Of course, I'm ready to listen to you and tell you how I've already thought it all out and did it. I'm not some fool, I understand and see everything in the world. And I also see that I see nothing and everything else that needs to be seen and known. I'm awesome..."

Almost teared up while writing this. I hug you all, my dear Dasha, children, parents, brother, friends, and work and project colleagues. You were the victims of the fear of imperfection, for which I dragged you into all these theatrical events of my life. Thank you for being there. Thank you for believing and loving me. Thank you for still loving me now.

My fear of being imperfect suffocated me. And through my nauseating righteousness, I suffocated you from different angles. With my infallibility, justification, and not admitting that you could struggle with me.

Now my choice is to be Human, a human who is endearingly imperfect and doesn't need that perfection, but rather needs love and a genuine orientation towards other people.

Now, I'm not awesome, I'm a human. I love myself.

How deeply does an unhappy person irritate you? Why is it so painful and unbearable? Why do you want to fix everything as quickly as possible? Make them happy, acknowledge the beauty of the world, thank their fate, and be grateful to God.

Perhaps we fear that in this person the truth is reflected. Loneliness, the inevitability of death, and the overarching meaninglessness are mirrored. We ourselves avoid these states at all costs, suppressing them with fast foods of all kinds: goals, plans, food, movies, emotions, fights, and news. We fear confronting this abyss of profound questions for which we have no answers. The questions themselves weigh heavily and disassemble us. Because through the lens of these questions, our entire life is reevaluated; we see the underbelly of our very selves. We stand exposed and defenseless in the face of this life. And all the illusions we've constructed to feel in control just dissipate like mist.

I myself experienced a shift. Earlier, I would get disturbed when someone in my presence was sad or unhappy. It tore me apart.

Now, I see it as an opportunity. It's a moment when a person is on the verge of confronting a truth, someone seeking truth and rejecting the fast-food solutions offered from all sides. Let's not numb ourselves. Let's not run from these states.

It's terrifying, but through it, one can better understand oneself. One can find their true desire, from which we've drifted so far.

Love yourself when it's tough for you. Love others when it's tough for them.

Recalled today, how earlier Dasha would come to me with her various thoughts and feelings, hoping that I could understand her. In those moments, I literally glowed with honor because I had long understood everything. Taking the opportunity, I laid out all my understanding to her, with examples and advice... But, alas, this was not it. My "understanding" was a barrier to true understanding. And true understanding is born, grows, and blossoms through sincere non-understanding.

Because it is impossible to fit a living person into the frame of one’s views and templates, much as one would like to.

This is what I mean. Especially now, talking about serious and deep things, I really want to deeply understand you and deep understanding (or at least sincere non-understanding) from your side.

These thoughts and a wonderful verse I borrowed today, from the priest and psychotherapist Vladimir Shkoda

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?

There are moments when people in a family stand on different sides of the border. They choose different countries, different life circumstances, different values. And they have reasons for that. And the distance between them is increasing. The arguments of each half are strong, understandable, related to personal sense. There is nothing to oppose.

And here you as an outsider talk to one of the halves. You sit, you agree, you find additional arguments to support the interlocutor. Everything is logical, everything is right. And with every agreement of yours, this distance between the halves is increasing.

With each such agreement, a person increasingly chooses himself, not the family. Turns into a stone, which is hard to move from its position, from its vision. The distance is increasing.

But if you disagree, find the truth in the arguments and senses of the other half (not the one you are talking to now). This can already give cracks to that stoniness. And the person will ask himself: Where is my desire? Where is my love? What can I do for this love? Can I, sensibly, make a choice against myself, but for this love?

And maybe then someone of them will say, “I do not agree with you, it is very difficult for me, but I love you. I will take a step towards you, so that you feel the warmth of my love. Do not be afraid of me, I am not against you. We are different, but I wish you good...."

Such acts are worthy of peace, love, acceptance. About such people, we could write books and build monuments to them in their lifetime.

Let's not agree with our interlocutors, let's find the truth on the other side as well.

Let the stoniness of arguments give a crack. Let love reign!

Clean up everything! What is so difficult for you to clean up after yourself? Who threw this here? I'll count to three; if you don't pick it up, I'll throw everything in the trash! Where should your things be?! It's getting on my nerves!

How much energy, how much fanaticism I had before when it came to cleanliness at home and having the kids clean up after themselves. I could have launched a rocket into space with that energy. And it seemed like it wouldn't take much time to train the kids to be clean. It just required discipline, detachment, and firmness. To break them down.

This thought, about breaking them down, always made me think again and again about this situation. About cleanliness and the freedom of children. About the transience of everything happening now.

Six months ago, I changed myself. Love for the children and respect for their creativity and freedom changed my character, changed my traditions, my habits, and my sense of beauty.

Now I'm making my way through this mess of crumpled pieces of paper mixed with garbage, and I'm happy. I feel the creative charm in it, the realization of freedom, the realization of love.

What a huge burden of tension and anger has been lifted off my shoulders.

And now, the short period of time that remains for us to live together can be dedicated to acceptance, respect, joy, and creativity. Then, in a blink of an eye, they will scatter to universities and later to their own homes. Everything happens so quickly in this life; I don't see the point in raising children in areas of life that are not essential to me. It's better for them to remember a kind and joyful dad who can let go of those seven rules for the sake of love. Everybody can change for love. For me, this is my transformation, something I can be proud of!