Tag Archives: #olyaamanwriter

Mental Health

Chronicles of a Hospice Nurse: Life Lessons Learned the Hard Way

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How you can be the richest person in the world

I am an artist that combines human unfulfilled dreams, last painful regrets, and agonizing pleadings into the greatest masterpiece this world had ever seen. – Olya Aman

I am a hospice nurse. I witness the end-of-life every day. I’m an expert in emotional and physical pain elimination. Physical pain is taken care of with the help of drugs; emotional—with the help of letters I offer my patients to write. I come home after work and reveal my daily impressions to my diary. It helps me understand the meaning of life, and our place in it.

Life most foul

Martin, a patient on a deathbed, is very weak. He has only a day or two left. Enough time to respond to a question, “Martin, you are dying. Who do you care about? What message do you want to send to those whom you love? This is a pen and a paper. I promise to deliver your letter.”

Martin laughs convulsively, shaking all over. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. All that emotion is tearing him apart. I can see the pain crippling down his throat.

A skill of commanding love is the only and the biggest blessing in life. To gain it be a Herculean task for me, much harder than to become a millionaire many times over. – Olya Aman

It is a beautiful experience: a handsome elderly man, with thin lips that forgot how to smile, and grey eyes that didn’t remember how to show pity or compassion. This person is transformed into the naïve boy he once was. The boy that used to believe in love and remember how that feeling could rejuvenate and heal. The boy that was generous in a way where he did not want it returned. He used to let himself forget what he had done for others, and because of that he never missed love.

Instruments of self-destruction

Martin responds with emotion, “Nothing. Listen! Nothing came easy for me in this life. Everything I had I needed to fight for. Gnaw out like a mad dog, breaking the teeth and trying to chew through all obstacles on my way — human or material. I didn’t care. And you know what? I buried my claws deeper in the human flesh rather than other things and I enjoyed it.”

Martin is overtaken by his memories. They haunted him for a long time and now he lets them out, freeing his mind and soul from their oppressing presence. He continues with passion, “But… Ha… everything I thought worth fighting for was irrelevant. The mere fog that is fading away at the sight of a brighter ray of the sun, running in fear of nonexistence. It is all… the houses I had, the cars I cared so much about, the jewels I traded for the pleasure of possessing another beautiful face, sensual body, and empty eyes — all of it was nothingness and left me when I went broke.”

There were many wars where Martin was marching with the flag of success, recognition, and money. Those were of no true importance. Nothing was left. An emotional lack was reining in his life. The understanding of this truth is torturing and rejuvenating at the same time. His following words prove it:

“Now I know, a skill of commanding love is the only and the biggest blessing in life. To gain it proved to be a Herculean task for me, much harder than to become a millionaire many times over. I had this skill when I was a kid. I lost it when I put money first on my scale of priorities.”

A moment of meaningful silence

Martin sobs, hiding his face in his hands. A moment of meaningful silence. I love this shared minute of wisdom. I never interfere. I let him experience this ocean of new feelings, wave after wave until his lungs can take this emotional fragrance and inhale it greedily, viciously.

Martin continues to open his heart to me and to himself, “I’ve lost everybody who cared about me. Everybody who I thought would be ever-present in my life by some weird universal law and with no effort on my side. Am I the only one who makes such a mistake? I traded Alive for Soulless. They needed me, my love, my attention, and my time. The most valuable things I never shared with my family. Then I thought it was too late.”

Martin was a traveler in a desert. His life was a sandy plain with mirages of abundance and each of them turned out to be another sandstorm that swept away one by one everything real in his life.

They say tears are not words, and words are not tears. Now, sitting by Martin’s bedside, I can tell that tears and words are inseparable. Every word he utters is a drop of regret, love, passion, and compassion, “No. The truth is — I was too proud to ask for forgiveness, too arrogant to make the first move. And now I am alone. They would have been beside me right now if I had been with and for them before. No one will miss me. No one! I have nothing to write on this paper because there is no one you can deliver it to.”

Martin dictates. I write. Now there are no tears to accompany his words. He was obsessed with such a common sickness of possession. He thought luxury could substitute for the warmth of loving humans. Every new object he obtained was draining his soul, making his heart numb — tough like a stone. He lost connection with his wife and son many years ago. I addressed his letter to his now grown-up son.

How you can feel like the richest person in the world

Many people strive for the material advantages of this world with more love of display than good, kind inclinations. When a person reaches his nadir, his impasse — there is no time for playing the ‘Pride in Prejudice’. To lead the idle life of bare-faced money hunting may be good when you’re young and healthy. But what are you going to take with you when time is up?

Money may literally vanish into thin air and you will be left only with people you’ve managed to cherish, and memories you’ve managed to create. Only the things that are burnt into your memory will accompany you on your last stroll in life. Memories that heighten your wisdom in the ‘Good-Deeds’ department will strike a reliving note. And quite the opposite happens if you can only remember a scorching hankering for riches and swallowing people up in an eager rush for it.

What can you do?

Schedule a ‘confessor’ time in your day. Protected from prying eyes by the leafy screen or comfy walls, pay a deserved homage to your thoughts about life and death. Negative the idea of selfishness completely during this time. You’ll feel that ultimately we all love the same things: kind relations, dear caring friends, and innocent creatures.

Don’t let yourself live in a mental fog made of false life-values. Do you perceive the terrible gravity of such existence? Do not be tongue-tied when you talk to yourself and bow pretenses out of your life with an impatient “Tchah!”

The words of kindness and love should occur throughout your self-conversation with the regularity of a leitmotif, and in the nick of time, you will feel yourself the richest person in the world.

Stay tuned…

Mental Health

This Is What Helped Me Cope With The Loss of My Father

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Let me strip life of all that’s unimportant and tell you what’s left

Olya Aman

I am naturally taciturn. After the tragic death of my father, it was easier to get a full version of a Bollywood movie out of my expressive face than speech out of my lips. This peculiar characteristic of mine stays true to me till this day.

Simple life firmly impresses true values upon your memory

My family lived in one of four identical solid wood houses built close to each other for collective farm workers, near a wheat field about a mile from the rest of the villagers. Beautiful flower beds in front of it and a neat looking vegetable garden behind it were the objects of envy and admiration of all the women of the neighborhood. My mother said that it was from her that the village ladies learned to hang linen the ‘right’ way, placing it on a rope grouped by size and color.

Delicious memories of my childhood were made not from the riches but from unconditional love and care of my dear parents. My light heart and bright visions thrived in an atmosphere of slight monetary tightness because the right people were beside me. My mother and father found each other at the humble beginnings of their lives, and their union gave us the brightest bliss that would last a lifetime.

My family was an example of true devotion and love that does not consider poverty a misfortune, but rather a way to be inventive. My father made the best toys out of anything that he could find close to his skilled hands: a piece of wood, a branch from a tree, or a chunk of plastic someone tossed away.

The list can be endless. He made a wooden doll for my sister and presented it dressed in the cutest outfit my mom made from various pieces of cloth. I still have that doll, the dress she wears now is knitted by my crafty hand and the ugly-looking shoes and hat are the results of my niece’s experimentations with threat and a hook.

The whisper of beauty beyond the tomb

My father was a forester, an occupation that barely provided for our family but which he would never change for a more highly paid job, like a combine or a tractor driver. He was on duty going around the encampment spots and making sure no one was abusing the unfortunate forest for its wood, when the sound of a fire alarm brought him home.

The unusually hot summer weather in July 1993 endangered not only forests but all the grass fields of the area. The windy weather made the progress of the wildfire rapid and valiant. The woman and the infant, our next-door neighbors, were sound asleep and hopefully never sensed the pain of a horrible death.

My father entered the house in an attempt to save the mother with her baby. He perished with them.

The memorial service for the three victims of the fire was performed on the same day. My mother became a frequent visitor to the village church and talked a lot with our priest after every Sunday mass.

The priest told her:

“Those who have lived but are no longer with us implore us to step on a road of recovery. You need to continue living under the united care of the love remembered and the love still felt. The marks of grief and regret awaken the health-diminishing powers within. You need to learn contentedness again, even if more from good-mother-nature than from people.”

Father Peter was not only the old and wise priest of our ancient church, but the best friend of my father. Maybe that is why his following words helped my mother to find the strength within to live and to love:

“Material advantages of fortune are lost amid the true treasures of sincere affection. Loving people can lend fresh vigor to your life. The luster of the loving eyes, the brightness of the sincere smile, the beaming of the compassionate soul whisper of beauty beyond the tomb.”

My father’s last words are imprinted in my memory

“Now it is a custom to be fenced from the plants by stone walls as if we have nothing in common with them. It is not enough to simply plant a flower in your house — in this case, it will feel itself a prisoner. It needs to be precisely invited.”

I believe those were the last words my father said to me. He found me struggling with some kind of weed looking plant and sat on bare soil beside. It was so awesome to see him sitting on plane earth. I mean, it was normal for a kid to ignore the caution from adults to put something under your little butt, but for my wise father to do so seemed the coolest thing for a 5-year-old me.

My father was a person who had the vastness of nature to lose himself in. He had internal respect for all the living. He transferred this value to me on the day he said those words. With each passing year, I grow more familiar and confidential with the surrounding scenery. This intimate connection helps me cope with many life trials that are tossed on me. Every time I call up before my mind’s eyes the greenery and fragrance of the fields, mountains, and forests, I lift a dusky curtain of grief inch by inch and recover my balance.

Losing my father stripped life from everything unimportant. Let me tell you what’s left.

My life holds onto family values and support from caring people.

As confused as our existence can be sometimes, only family gives us the heart to cope with all difficulties. I’ve learned to value the power of it. Our devotion and love are gaining in strength with passing time and experienced together challenges. There is no one in this world so close and dear for me as my mother and sister, my husband, and kids. Nothing can disturb the equanimity of my mind because I have the support of loving people.

I welcome love and compassion and let these feelings do their healing deed. Kind communication can always draw a smile from me in the gloomiest time of my life. My family and close friends help me recover my will-power. To be with loving people has something of the divine in it.

Stay tuned…

Personal Growth

5 Ways to Never Be Bored

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O. looked at things in a funny sort of way, even going home from school with her was an intellectual research of a peculiar kind.

Introduction

She was curious about every little thing which made an ordinary spider seem an amazing creature. Her sense of humor made a simple sentence from a school dull textbook an anecdote that made us laugh till stomachache and we often ended up expelled from the class. She always knew what to say at the right moment. I do not think she ever had that notion of coming out with a trenchant response, but the dispute was a week ago. 

Imagination helps to cope with everyday repetitive activities. It gives flexibility to your dreams, form to your ideas, and direction to your actions. Good humor in the face of boring certainty spares you the anguish of delay. You see success in every direction if you accompany your actions with delightful excitement.

1) Collect a Good Bunch of Friends and an Imposing Burst of Laughter

We shared one desk for three consecutive years in 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. These years were the most refreshing from all my school experience. Being best friends while sitting together, we didn’t even talk much neither before no after those years. I believe some people come to our life like a fresh breeze from the sea and as easily go away. They bring that cooling sensation to the skin and mind, fill in the world around with stars you haven’t seen, juicy grass you haven’t touched, and aroma of wild flowers you didn’t pay attention to before.

Do not fail to find words of comfort and encouragement when your friend needs it. That same person will do justice to you when an unfortunate time comes. The depressing influence of loneliness brings a grim look on everything. Joyous laugh in a good company makes you feel untiring. And a constant repetition that is going on in life will not be able to disquiet you when a warm company is present. 

2) Wrap Your Senses in New Fresh Sensations

Being a shy teenager, I came to be boisterous with her. She used to shake any mishap rather as a terrier shakes himself with ease and grace. The moment I used to start to complain about being bored she would raise her voice so either by hook or by crook I had to hear what she was going to fire on me. “What the-dickens, did you imagine this thing dull? Let me put you wise how things are,” she used to say in Agatha Christie’s perfect traditions way. And in a telegraphic manner she recounted the same events I was perfectly aware of, but word by word her interpretation served to whet my curiosity to hear more and learn her version of the same scene.

Give a new turn to your thoughts and senses. Decorate your days with fresh sensations. Open your eyes to see the scenery around you. You need to tear away the veil of monotony that obscures your view. With a deeply positive turn of mind your cheerfulness will be growing bigger by the moment.

3) Let the Faintest Thing Amuse You

The simplest pleasure was a trip home from school in her company. Every time adjusting the root O. brought a different perspective to the view I used to consider established. I became a fan of a village humble life when I saw back allies and sheds along an earth road, the smell of fresh cow’s milk and newly cut grass, potholes of rainwater with flashes of the afternoon sun in them. I had half a mind she had some magic stick in her sleeve as every time she managed to show me something new in a place I considered completely explored a long time ago. O. helped me to learn how to break some routine behavior and recharge my mind so that it starts to function in a manual mode rather than living on autopilot.

Habit is rust that eats through steel. It can be the most dangerous thing in the universe. Often it denies the possessor from the joy of seeing the beauty of life when you look it in the face.

Little pleasurable moments appear as merely part of the background if you do not pay attention. Let small things find an echo in your soul. This will help you to kill the dullness. Do not receive life gruffly, bear philosophically the rain and wind, and smile to the sun and breeze. 

4) Venture Dreaming and Achieve an Inner Burning Desire

I remember on one occasion when we decided to have a day off school, my mom at that time trusted me with such decisions, as I used reason explaining why the history lesson and coming right after the one on physical education ccould be missed, and the time could be employed with so much more profit at home getting ready for some interesting project or other.

O. came to my place, most likely not letting her parents know that she was going NOT to school, and we had an interesting conversation about our plans for the future. Time suited perfectly as we were in the 9th grade when a lot of students decide to enter a world of professional education and leave school behind. I was still in black on what to do with my life, but I thought my idea of O.’s future was clear enough. So, I laid out a plan for her life adopting her way of telegraphic speech. I said: “Future is flexible. Project it in your mind. Start acting today. Make your dreams come true. You want to share how you see things. So, do it.”

I used to outwear through the books about the power of attraction and considered myself an expert in those things, so my language flourished with affirmations like ‘thought vibrations’, ‘energy’, ‘manifestation’ and the like. She said she wanted to break from the strong hold of her parents rather sooner than later and would rather go to college that year. We’ve looked through the list of opened professions and picked newspaper editor, radio host, and TV host. Although, I’ve lost sight of her when she left school that year, for some reason I was almost sure she succeeded to fulfill our plan for her future. But to learn for a fact what became of her I managed only very recently.

Give free play to your imagination. Turn your life into a romance with the flexible flow of your dreams. Bend a listening ear to the faintest lovely vision. And a sudden fit of joyful spirits will come over you. You should hear yourself repeating, like a man conversing with yourself about his bright future. 

5) Rush to Attack Your Dreams with Plans and Actions

Since the time of my move abroad I stopped following the development of television life. I find myself watching some show or other only when I visit my parents. A year ago, I happened to stumble on a TV program which the first time in many years gave me a vague desire to put a huge cinema set in my apartment when I get back home just to be able to see the landscapes of my native country in that interpretation. The notion that the voice behind the camera was painfully familiar almost tickled me to death, and I tried to rack my brain in vain hopes to remember where I’d heard it before. What my amusement was when I read the name of my school friend in the movie ending credits.

O. was in her yarn being a well-known journalist that traveled the country and showed the ordinary life of simple people in her signature TV show. I knew her medical family wanted her to continue the family tradition, and I’m happy she finally did what she was intended to even against her relatives’ wishes. She might not have confidence at the time in the success of that new plan we drafted, but she was stubborn enough to act without the belief, knowing that faith would pave the way from words to the heart later, over time. Her bold determination opened the door to her dream life. The one in which she can share her inexhaustible resource of vigor that always was contagious to the ones around her. The way she chose to spend her life proved to be the best as now she could reach more people, showing them the way how to look at the familiar scenery in a new refreshed way.

Your customary activity may fatigue you, do not lose yourself in this dreary feeling. Add sunlight to your days by planning things you like. Schedule steps that will get you closer to something you like. 

Restore your energy with an activity that always makes you feel good. It may be a desire to shoot your own movie, a dream of your own book published, or simply a refreshing vacation. Enjoy making plans and start implementing those little by little. 

Conclusion

Even now many years after when the ongoing every day routing becomes unbearable and the feeling that everything should be turned upside-down immediately – for example, I crave to bring down the sky to the earth and see what happens – then simple delight can be found for me in choosing a different route to a known place so that life can be seen through the eyes of new impressions, spooning with mysterious turn in an unusual place, holding hands with a randomly picked way that leads only home. A minor change in things that used to be boring repaints those in fresh colors and it comes to be an interesting task to observe familiar repeated life so recently you’ve been fed up with.  

A dull, dreary life is an impossibility and can exist only in the minds of people. If you want to be a true master of yourself you need to rule over your thoughts first and foremost. The imminent danger of boredom is a possible condition of clinical depression. You need to take every precaution that is possible to add a cheerful touch to your daily life. The wearing elements can be great, but if you let yourself to be every now and then lost in dreamy wonderings, you will feel like an air of ease is winning the mastery. 

Stay tuned…

Mental Health

Great Power of Strong Feelings That Will Uplift or Dispirit You

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Telling lies is a wicked habit. Once mastering this vice, you stop to be sincere even to yourself – Olya Aman

Love 

D. used to be a cheerful boy who was rushing into childish sorrow and joy, both with the same zeal. He got strongly carried away and stoically endured failures. He got sick with many childhood illnesses in succession: broke his arm in a skating rink, fell through the frail April ice one time, and once almost died from anaphylactic shock. No one was truly worried about him or tried to protect him because the safety margin he possessed was truly inhumane. It was very likely the result of love everybody bestowed on him which was accumulated over his childhood.

Even a faint glimmering of love changes the way a person feels. The coming day seems brighter, any gloom is relieved with the warmth of sincere affection. With love in your heart you can bravely elbow your way through the thickest of the life troubles. On looking intently forward, the future seems hopeful with this rejuvenating feeling inside.

Companionship 

Kids can be cruel in their antipathy as much as they can be passionate about friendship. D. didn’t know the taste of opposition, as we all do now and then. He seemed to be an exception – a pet to every girl, a confidante to every boy, and a favorite to every adult. Plump and rosy-cheeked as a baby, he was skinny and pale when a toddler and a teen. Always cheerful but never laughing out loud, he appeared to always know how to behave and what to say to a party of elderly people or a group of children of any age.

Friendly social circle puts heart in us. As if eating the healthiest and most nourishing food, compassionate touch and heartfelt conversation with the person that cares about you, empower you physically and emotionally. The equanimity of your mind is preserved with the help of friendly people. In the nature of all things, friends are more costly than any possible luxuries in life.

Appreciation

D’s family lived in a three-story apartment building across the road from me. His balcony located on the first floor faced the front gate of our house and I used to observe him through our sun room’s picture window watering the flowers or playing with his cat. We used to exchange our own silent language and meet on a neutral territory just outside the entrance to his stairwell. Gathering the rest of our kids’ company we played picture cards or staged some play or other for grownups from the area. We drafted specific invitations as our performances were popular and we liked the idea of choosing the audience. 

D. was a source of endless ideas for costumes or the dialogue’s comical language. His sense of humor was superb, and laughter accompanied every act. I thought he would make a lead actor or a director in the theater world or even the cinema. His ability to change the timbre and depth of his voice, coming now from the upper part of vocal cords and then from his chest, fascinated me. D. used to easily memorize all parts and could improvise, always saving the scene when someone forgot their lines by mumbling the words of an unfortunate fellow in a funny sort of way, slightly opening a corner of his mouth and making the rest of his facial features unusually steady.

The wealth of recognition opens up our inner resources. If your vanity is duly gratified, a multitude of opportunities strives to be revealed to your judgment. Burning ambition is flourishing in the environment of appreciation, and it drives a person to move forward with his dreams.

Self-Belief 

We all used to think his never-ending source of energy and ideas would be like an immortal all- present sun, that only in cloudy weather could not be seen, but everybody knew still existed in our sky. When he got sick, no one paid attention to this fact and considered any misfortune in his path as a slightly darkened forecast for the day: we might not see him today, but tomorrow the sun will rise again as it always did before. And true to this expectation, he woke up the next morning and went out to the balcony with his hand bandaged or his head wrapped. We loved him at those moments more than anyone. It seemed the memory of yesterday without his joyful spirit was sunless. 

With voluntary self-assurance no hardship will hang about you for a long time. In this state you know that troubles cannot last forever and by degrees, life will get better. The belief in this axiom attracts positive vibes and favorable circumstances follow along. Self-confidence encourages prosperity.

Fear

But one thing finally broke that love-shielding wall that I’m sure protected him, and that jolly spirit perished with it. On one occasion coming home from school D. was stopped by a gypsy woman and driven by curiosity he let her take his hand. She predicted his death from a fall. Yes. So silly: no particulars of any sort, just a silly woman saying a silly thing out of spite just to scare a boy out of his wits. But his passionate nature disserved him this time and he was carried away by that nonsense. The look in his eyes changed gradually: happy sprinkles of yellow on a watery green iris gave way to gloomy brown ripples almost swallowing the rest of the palette of his eye. His countenance, full of lifeblood, had undergone the transformation into a shadow-like version of himself. His paleness was not noble anymore. Rather it was unwell, and his tiny frame gave the impression of some disposition or other.

Self-Doubt

From that time every disease he suffered from drained the life out of him drop by drop. There was a sickening flavor about him that made one think of misfortunes, bad luck, and weakness. That unfortunate prophecy stole the charisma that D. undoubtedly possessed and the admiration we all felt towards him yielded to the force of death that obsessed his mind and changed his looks drastically to the worse.

He constantly repeated that crazy woman’s words, which resulted in an alien personality he started to wear, thinking somebody else’s thoughts about his life in constant fear of a fall. He came to be one of those unfortunate people that always look back on others with dread, nervously trying to read everybody’s thoughts, expecting them to pity him and disliking them for that. He desperately needed someone else’s sympathy, approval, and love. He had all of it in abundance when he was able to give his cheerful smile in return. When a gloomy mood possessed him, any positive feedback from outside was forever lost.

The injurious effect of self-doubt is enormous. It aggravates everything about life. You simply give vent to misfortunes when you allow yourself to lack confidence. Everything takes a longer walk, you simply have no power to alleviate the sinking of your soul and spirit.

Stress

At the age of 14 D. withered as a flower pulled from its soil. It was a minor cold that killed him afterward. Many think though, that he was dead long before that illness took his final breath. Dread of everything that life is – trials and failures, meetings and partings, praise and hearsay – was a murderous weapon that made the final shot. The memory of his awe-inspiring cheerful nature that reserved everybody’s favorable attitude towards him was a red cloth that made him furious when he saw the change in people that truly was only his own nervy and stressful alteration, reflection of which he saw in others.

In a state of stress you are creeping away in life, with cautious steps making your slow advancement. Cold and cheerless days without sunlight and fragrance are your destiny if you let emotional strain oppress you. You need to be careful with things that distress you. Many things are omitted and a lot is forgotten when your mind is pressured with negative thoughts.

Conclusion

D. used to be a champion in any undertaking and even a failure served as a source of energy, adding more experience and a higher chance of being victorious next time. 

When he came to be a poor victim of a senseless lie people stopped taking him seriously but that was just the result of his lack of confidence in himself. The world with death being an integral part of it was a poisonous place for him. That prophecy doomed him to live a life of fear. That dread became his daily companion and, being a jealous nasty thing, deprived him of friends. 

When you do not fear anybody, you can handle any judgment people make about you, taking no interest in what kind of esteem they hold you in. The brave spirit of an adventurer reigns in your life and you take risks and come out winning most of the time.  

People will always crave company, understanding, and love. The one who is not able to give love will lose the resource of it that everybody congenitally possesses and hopefully accumulates through life. Love needs to be given to enlarge its dimensions and quantity. Kept inside, it grows moldy, turning green of jealousy, then gray of greed, and finally, the dark color of hate paves its way.

Stay tuned…

Personal Growth

A Beast Bit My Face and Changed Me For the Better

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My face is different. But ‘different’ doesn’t always mean ‘worse’

Olya Aman

I was shocked and, due to that, felt no pain at first. People were shouting and gesturing to one another, trying to figure out how to distract the furious beast. Somehow, I do not recollect exactly how it was pulled from me. The man who helped me in an old blue ‘Zhiguli’ and drove to the village dispensary and later to the nearest town hospital was the owner of the dog. In the hospital, I got nine stitches in four places on my face.

The doctor that performed the work of reconstructing my face did not know about cosmetic stitching. He simply decided the way he would do it was going to be sufficient. During the procedure, I concentrated on his deep, fine-tuned voice. To listen to him was like drinking warm ginger tea on a frosty winter day, and very likely it served as the best anesthetic for me. His work was not bad, just not good.

I have the scars, one is very visible, and people often ask about it. I consider it a part of my unique personality. I like my face. I love myself the way God created me and the way life, not always gentle, adjusted the sacred work.

Thoughts about my mother, her loving face darkened by suffering because of the incident, overpowered the fear of thread, needle, and pain. And even during the recovery, when the only recollection of the event made me shake with uncontrollable sobbing — the result of a great fright — I tried to compose myself with enormous energy. One glance at my mother’s eyes with a distinct element of worry pulled me together, and I did my best to laugh.

Providence is often a cruel teacher. The life-threatening experience I went through was there to spirit me for what was before to come. I had bad days, but not too many. I had loss enough, but too much. Although, I feel completely miserable at times, I do my best to not feel depressed, rather unite the best blessings of my nature and learn to be a gainer in every situation.

Sometimes I think, I am made practically entirely from one heart, and often it thinks itself far too clever and shuts the rational mind up. But it did me a good service so far by helping me to get over emotionally and physically painful moments.

3 Lessons I Learned

  • Painful experience often is the strongest building block of a prominent personality.
  • Everything happens for a reason and your inner and outer looks depend on it.
  • Moments of struggle open the best (or the worst) in people.

I didn’t react to those unfortunate circumstances with deliberate self-pity. I thought of my mother and not of myself. From then on, my desire to give overpowers the desire to take. Lack of selfishness gives me the strength to withstand many of life’s calamities.

Whatever happens, I only need to understand how things are and accept the change, because ‘different’ doesn’t always mean ‘worse’.

Stay tuned…

Personal Growth

Become a Sweet Killer Each Time You Converse With a Person

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Find charming weapons in your posture, gestures, and mimic

You must possess a great deal of inner strength to fight for your true essence. – Olya Aman

Experienced the poison of my own personality reflected and redirected at me when I was eight.

We were sitting on a balcony on the 6th floor of a nine-story quiet building and shelling peas when the boy, my distant cousin, the exact relation of whom I am not able to disclose, promised to marry me once we grew up. He was 6 years old, I think, and for me, that was the main obstacle to matrimony. I couldn’t bear my husband being a whole 2 years younger than me.

The boy was petite and skinny, dressed according to the latest style with a modern haircut. His eyes were flickering like quiet water at the bottom of the well. I don’t remember his name, only the electrified tenderness from the combination of sounds that caressed the roof of my mouth.

I used to be a shy girl and I couldn’t imagine anybody might take a liking to me. This first occasion indulged my vanity and coupled with that raised right eyebrow and light tilt of the head to the left made magic. He unconsciously copied all my gestures, like the one of bringing the tips of my fingers together in a thoughtful manner.

That skill of sweet murderous attraction (and my distant cousin undoubtedly possessed it) sometimes takes ages to master. By listening with all six senses, adding full awareness to this mutual process of comprehension, and giving yourself in full to the moment of wisdom, you may be highly rewarded by obtaining a grateful and affectionate friend.

Unfortunately, the relation, if any, was very distant and I haven’t seen my first admirer for many years. Our encounter lasted about 4 hours and was limited by that romantic adventure with peas.

However, the ability to see, or rather to sense with your entire body the inner rhythm of any living being could be a curse rather than a blessing. One day about six years ago when I visited M. I met a good-looking man at my sister’s place. What struck me was the familiar flickering in his eyes. “I’ve already seen that watery gray color somewhere”, I thought.

His wife was a big woman with unusually dainty ankles. She had a style about her, and I could almost call her dazzling but for her loud voice, just a touch above average, with an expression of power and force in it.

Magnetism seemed to radiate from her, and it outshone her husband completely. They both made a curious movement of their shoulders when being introduced to me. At the dinner table she talked a lot and each time her husband wanted to add something, she interrupted him deprecatingly. It looked like she didn’t care even two straws about him when he was completely determined to obey her in every way.

This man was lost in his wife’s charisma, modeling her movements and intonations in vain hope to be heard by the object of his admiration. It can be easier for a person like that to vanish in search of identity and never discover the true self within.

This encounter made me think

1) Enigmatic individuality.

A child, when born, is a little unique flourish. Growing up, he still seats apart from the rest of humankind in the secret tower of his individuality. Looking down at the world and people around, he longs to be accepted and gradually loses the sharpness of his personality.

2) Ability to listen and ask questions.

Every movement is marked by your personal touch when you are relaxed and free from any outside influence. It is, though, hard to always feel comfortable when people are around. You stay conscious of the opinion of others, trying to read their minds and predict reactions to your next words and actions.

How can you keep your composed self and, at the same time, be conscious of the presence around? Indeed, with more self-confidence and less opinion-dependence, you will be completely fulfilled as a personality.

3) The art of attracting attention.

Your vitality and easy confidence of manner flourish when you add to your skill-set and ability to attract people. This is a learned art, and everyone can master it with enough desire and persistence. Sincere appreciation and willingness to understand always help to establish contact with anyone.

People are like parallel straight lines, and they meet only when willing to incline to each other. Some people are more parallel than most, which can be a challenge. You either need to savor this or seek a way to make them curve in your direction.

4) Dominance with body language.

Your body language grants you with an attitude of indolent grace if you listen with it. We should never take the process of communication for granted. It is a talent almost all species have, and we are gifted beyond anyone.

Invest your time in every conversation fully. Listen with your eyes, ears, and posture, and your presence will become irradiation of any gathering.

5) Mastering personality can teach you the skill.

It is a stroke of great luck to meet a virtuoso in any field. Such people go through life in a never-ending state of self-improvement. It is axiomatic that such people are great resources for valuable information. Feeble envy, in this case, is a motivation to record useful knowledge and implement it to your advantage.

Surround yourself with strong, intelligent people. They represent all the vast conscious world of the best in men. Strive to be on the same level.

Final thoughts

Some people possess that engaging gracefulness that makes them forever moving around other people. They seem to be fed by attention and admiration. And if the energy from others is not present in their life, they fade away. That happened with my distant cousin. He was desperately in love and lost himself in this feeling. I’m sure he engaged all his inner resources to win this beautiful and vigorous woman. When done and married, he disappeared, became her shadow.

Don’t make this mistake. The atmosphere of your unique inner strength should be your main source of energy. That state is obtained only if you are in love with yourself. This way if you are forced to stay for some time in your own universe with only you for a company, this experience becomes enriching.

Life can be cruel in its passionate desire to come true, where one theaters an exciting play, changing himself on the go to satisfy the need to be like others. While the other lives in the earnest struggle to protect his individuality. It is easier to continue one’s way by adopting a false personality — effort takes time and energy.

You must possess a great deal of inner strength to fight for your true essence, and most often the reality around you is a rival, not an ally.

Stay tuned…

Personal Growth

My Mentor Was Dyslexic and Taught Me The Value of Smart Reading

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What quality reading does to our brain

I wanted to be a creature whom ‘Smart’ does not even slightly describe… – Olya Aman

Many years prior to the days of our acquaintance, my mentor was considered a dyslexic child. He had trouble matching the letters, struggled to read fluently and spell words correctly.

My mentor, Maks, can intoxicate every person individually with his great bright voice, hoarse and rich, sudden, and intensely accurate. Saying things enlightening and captivating, he can describe any event from his life and the life of the world around fully and without hyperbole and still catch unmitigated attention of everybody around.

My notebooks, one in particular, are covered with expressions of his wisdom. I’m the witness of his ineffable teaching — How to eliminate our troubles by growing a hunger to read.

I will put you wise using his own words:

Read a Good Book and Energize Your Brain

Reading makes our brain omnipotent. By processing written material, we encourage our brains to work harder and better. Almost like after a visit to a gym, when our muscles still remember the strenuous stretch and weight, our brain expresses a shadow activity at a specific region that was stimulated.

Maks has a great understanding of the brain and his learning disability. He explained to me that dyslexics are visual and multi-dimensional thinkers.

“Although I excelled in hands-on learning and was highly creative, I needed to put a certain dangerous effort into mastering the art of reading. I was long past the school-age when I finally could claim a label ‘normal’ for myself.”

Maks was hard, immeasurably hard on research, finding the best ways to rewire his brain. “I tried all kinds of remedial reading programs that could help me become a better reader. Every single day I was working on changing the way how my brain was processing information.”

Remedial Reading Helps to Diminishing Confusion in Our Lives

Reading decreases stress. You transport yourself into a different situation and positively affect your daily life with uplifting literature.

Maks made his Dyslexia (‘word blindness’ — how it is called sometimes) not an insurmountable obstacle in a process of education, but a problem to be solved — an opportunity to express personal motivation; a trigger to combat an enemy and win the battle on the arena of education.

“I’ve discovered the relationship between reading and stimulation of particular regions of the brain. Today it is a base for the emerging field of literary neuroscience. My life is an example that even a dyslexic reader can fix his problem with the right approach to a book.”

Maks often stresses that by challenging our brain, we keep ourselves upright together with our cognitive abilities. “There are many benefits in the ensemble of mind improving reading exercises. It even can ward off dementia.”

“Behind our eyes lives a world of undiscovered. And to start a journey of self-digging and improvement is never late. There are special techniques, new emerging programs, even specifically created fonts to help us become better readers.”

The Value of Close Reading

Reading is not just fun, it is beneficial for our mental health. Reading stimulates our analytical abilities, heighten our focus and concentration.

Breakthrough information emerges every day. Maks keeps finding new ways to improve memory, reduce stress, decrease depression, enhance imagination, improve sleep, and many more — all with the help of books, chosen smartly and intentionally.

“Reading every day not only makes our feet travel in countries not easily imagined but also explore the grounds of our abilities.”

Methods of Keeping Our Brain Active

When crossing the threshold of a new book you should think what benefit you are expecting to get from it. Making a choice in a library, you pick, quite literally, a kind of cognitive brain training, a way to use new brain regions, and it is in your power to decide where to put your focus on.

“Scientists work extensively, developing new ways to train our brain.” says Maks. “There are numerous books on simple math problems and short brain-training sessions with puzzles. By challenging ourselves, we strengthen the connections between brain cells. Devoting our time to learning something new and complex like a foreign language can protect our brain from aging.”

Conclusion

My mania for the world of reading results from the prolonged conversations with my mentor. I love the state of focus and concentration I feel every time we meet.

I think that being a victim of a great book is an honor, and I wish to get into such captivity often and do so at my leisure. There is about the entire process of reading something irretrievably and positively self-imaginary. It punctuates our lives with novel ideas and educates us in unknown areas of life.

By mastering a new field of study, we heighten our opinion of ourselves and our capabilities. Reading manifests refinement to our brain and enjoyment to our life.

A final work from Maks:

When working with great workout tools our body responds more quickly and easily to the exercise, the same happens with our brain when we chose a quality book to read. You may even feel a bit exhausted at the end, as if your body went through the exercise along with your mind.

Stay tuned…

Mental Health

She Got Her Back Broken to Realize She Was Happy

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The power of giving others the heart to live

To linger here or to feel that you belong… – Olya Aman

My sister Tanya is a lean, long-backed, large-headed girl, with surly tones of her voice and coarse features of her face. We scour the country together now and then: I — on my feet and her — on her wheels. Her wheelchair is a speedy little beast, accelerated by her mighty hands and skillfully maneuvered by her flexible torso. You would never believe, looking at her expressive and full of exhilarating energy face, that death had been hovering over her just four years ago.

A rushing torrent of grateful feelings.

The dark night in my sister’s life started from an unfortunate fall from a high staircase. Her brain stopped triggering signals responsible for the muscle movement and she didn’t feel her legs anymore.

When starting to sit down to her meals, still dispirited and sad, she used to say to me, but truly to herself, “Nothing happens without reason. There should be a higher intelligent plan and purpose in it.” The fairest consolation came in disguise of a prayer. It was holding her tight, not letting her slip into that despair completely.

My sister didn’t feel her legs anymore, but strains of overly agitated nerves of her arms and spine substituted that missing sensation. She strengthened her torso every instant she felt the need to hue-and-cry to the missing control of her limbs. She got herself out of the bed and on her wheels with surprising speed.

Elbowing hard upon goals.

Before the accident, my sister used rambled at her pleasure, mostly spending time in the gym listening to her favorite music. Being 32 years old, she still had trouble finding her place in the grownup world.

It seemed a matter of impossibility to center her life around fitness and body healing strategies now when she lost control over almost half of it. But she couldn’t get rid of this idea. Tanya became transfixed with the desire to achieve the heights she didn’t even think possible for her fully functional, healthy past-self.

Tanya set her heart firmly on a goal to become a physical therapist working in amputee rehabilitation. She learned with passion about specific strengthening exercises that flex and tone the muscles. Her own experience gave her a psychological advantage to motivate people.

Issuing forth with a mentor beside.

She adopted this impressive stateliness from her mentor. The simplicity of her mentor’s life stirred her profoundly. Tanya used to preach to me, “This person is happy, chasing his dreams and loving his family. With neither legs no arms he is shining with heart strength and will-power.” Every trace of my sister’s essence strove to bring purpose and happiness into her life.

Power of giving others the heart to live.

My sister still has a sense of weakness and captivity sometimes. But she is recovering her life-balance by an effort of willpower and a desire to set an example for others.

Tanya always says to her patients that whatever happened to her was not a run of ill-luck but a fortunate wakeful blessing. She teaches them to accept the condition and devotedly love their past and present selves. People in her clinic see a humble person just like themselves, never repenting on her helplessness, but being powerful enough to uplift her spirit and inspire others to do the same.

Stay tuned…

Personal Growth

The Power of Tenderness and Compassion in My Relationship

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Secrets about water that my life put to the proof

The voice of natural water sounds silver and life… – Olya Aman

Water can rise through the trunks of gigantic trees against tens of atmospheres of pressure. What is more surprising, though, is the faculty of a human being to rise over hatred and aggression in the world, indifference and treachery towards himself, and still be loving and empathetic.

“What the dickens do you drink this water for?” I said deprecatingly, when my dog fired ahead to the water that was spilled on the floor. The bottle it came from was a gift that I didn’t appreciate enough. I considered it a wired birthday present. My dog was a much better expert in a healthy way of life, eating only food in green packages with the logo “organic” on it. And he never before ate anything from the floor, preferring his silvery plate to any other vessel.

I felt that I had to learn more about THIS water. And I discovered that I, being an educated twenty-two-year-old lady at the time, knew nothing AT ALL about this substance. Magnetism and energy locked in this bottle transformed my life.

The honored man that presented the fortunate flask became a source of happiness for me. His kind soul wrapped in a beautiful body opened a new world of love and shared happiness. I went from enchantment to enchantment, scenting compassion in the air, and this feeling of admiration gave a new turn to my thoughts.

The imminent danger of water’s memory.

Experiments in many countries around the world have shown that water remembers everything that occurs in the space that surrounds it. The water structure of each person’s body is identical to the water structure of the place where he was born. Our internal connection to our homeland is depicted in the water of that place. And our inner water-based computer records the entire history of our relationship with the world around us.T

Marat is my future husband, and his story is a vivid example of a ‘movie-like’ experience that is unforgettable and needed to be shared with others.

He seemed to have everything but for the memory of his early childhood and youth. That was strange. Marat possessed the knowledge and education to be adequate and navigate his way in the world, but he could not remember the words said by his mother, and the school games went to with his father.

That happened after the car crash that left him, a single child of a happy middle-aged couple, an orphan. Doctors said it was a post-stress reaction of his brain. The neatly structured organ in his head tried to protect him against his own will. Marat longed to remember, but not any conventional or alternative medicine could help him do so.

One day, about 11 years ago, his best friend came back after a long journey to far-away countries. He brought exclamations of praise and deep respect for the elderly healer he met there. Marat didn’t believe it could work and agreed to go only for the sake of adventure.

The ceremony of their encounter reminded a scene from a mystery movie. Marat and a small wrinkly guy in a dress-like white shirt were staring at one another blankly without words. Then the old man showed Marat to his chamber. The cave was dark and cold and full of small and big glass jars with water. He filled Marat’s little cup from almost every container. And at the point of over dense tension in the easy to guess area in his belly, something extraordinary happened. Marat suddenly remembered. Springwater from a distant mountain village in Kyrgyzstan brought relief to his tired from searching brain.

It happened so that his father was born in that village. His parents, being almost desperate to conceive, went there and spent almost a year in that remote place. They came back to the States to give birth to their beloved son and get the benefit of traditional high-quality medical care. The water from that village remembered Marat, or, rather, his body remembered that water. Some impulse, the life force coming from this water, triggered the processes in his brain. It made the memory of his past a charming reality that he could take into his present.

No wonder, when Marat fell in love with me, from the first sight, by the way, he presented me with the most cherished gift he could imagine. Yes, he gave me a bottle of that pure spring water from far away Kyrgyzstan.

Human power both whitens and darkens water and souls.

Nowadays it became clear that positive and negative human emotions are the strongest elements of influence on water. Water, experiencing fear, aggression, hatred, projected on it, is suffering. Those feelings deform its structure and reduce its energy. Love, on the contrary, increases water’s energy. The power of tenderness and compassion is yet unexplained, but accepted by almost everyone’s intellect.

I became the most negligent person when it came to the choice of food after I broke up with my ex. He took excellent care of his diet and very little of my emotional state. I was devastatingly unhappy in our relationship. He was a handsome, cold-hearted person, which made me detest anything good-looking, tasty, and healthy. I developed a belief that things, being eatable or not, are pretty on the outside and empty on the inside.

After our separation, I was rebelling my past healthy lifestyle, and I became a regular visitor to fast-food places. That made me look 10 years older and 30 pounds heavier. I thought badly about the food I ate and drinks I consumed but continued to do so to prove some wired point, the meaning of which I couldn’t explain even to myself. All those substances I swallowed made me feel even more depressed until the day I met my future husband, Marat.

He is incredibly plump and extremely cheerful. His spirit is contented and grateful. Nothing can spoil his positive attitude to life, even my negative connotation of every aspect of it.

First few months we ate at the same bad-quality-food places I favored. Surprisingly, I felt my body not as heavy and my mood not as gloomy anymore. Somehow, Marat’s uplifting spirit charged every eatable object with his life-giving energy.

When we started to live together and Marat became a master of the kitchen space, life became almost an unbearably sweet experience. Both of us fell in love with new aspects of vigorous and healthy life. By degrees, we started to spend quite ridiculous money on food, and water was the number one investment in our list of the most important things.

Water combats behavior and life itself with music and love.

Classical music gives water an occasion for displaying the splendor of symmetric beauty. As if choosing music that uplifts and rejuvenates us, we should be spellbound listening to a loving person, and determined to run away from a twisted and vengeful one.

I love music, and I am a skilled pianist. I and my husband attend musical events as often as we can. My best friend, but for my husband, is a magnificent instrument in our living room.

Every day I hurry home to my soulmate and discuss Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven with it. The decanter full of water is on the nearby table and it witnesses all my musical performances. I have a habit of taking it to our dinner table and later to our bedroom. This water seems to be full of notes of love and care, beauty, and affection. I take excellent care of my water and fill the vessel with the best of the best. Play music to it and make every note enter my body and my soul. I drink it with satisfaction and feel refreshed, delighted, invigorated. I am forgetting my cares, feeling as if I had wings to my feet.

No thing about water is an illusion. Nothing in the world is softer and more yielding than water. We do not realize how close and almost identical we are. Water wears down the hard and strong, and none can overcome it. When our strength husbanded, we are capable of glorious things just the like.

Stay tuned…

Mental Health

How My Cousin’s Self-Compassion Helped Him Recover From Drug Addiction

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Self-compassion taught him to admit the fact that life is painful sometimes

Take the misery of negative self-judgment in a luxuriously calm refuge-island of self-compassion… – Olya Aman

My cousin Victor was a fair example of a typical ‘mazhor’ (a kid of wealthy parents). He snapped his fingers and had everything he wished. And when his father lost every dollar they had in a risky market deal, Victor’s self-esteem suffered a great deal. He simply lost his place in the world, thinking that material possessions were the only means of determining it.

When his family moved to a shabby-looking village house nearby, his grandma left him in a will a long time ago, he considered all his plans for the future ruined. I found him very poorly equipped to live frugally and happily, rather he was prone to make up in negative judgmental feelings what he lacked in dollar bills. We were not friends, although spent hours together talking, or arguing about life. I was only 13 at the time, but felt myself superior to this 18-year-old kid.

Victor lived a narrow life of anxiety and depression. He suffered from fits of narcissistic, self-absorbing anger. He stopped any communication with his father, blaming his misfortunes on him. He spent almost all his time in the nearby town, and when he occasionally showed his wistful face in our village, he often ended up in my kitchen. He longed for compassionate attention and understanding. He was lost amid his troubled thoughts and feelings, and painfully needed to talk to someone, to pour his misery out and, by doing so, try to get his turbulent life in order. I tried to be a sympathetic listener.

In about a year of village life, Victor stopped coming home at all. I can admit now, I missed this troubled boy a lot. His parents found him almost too late. He entered the narcotic state of self-destruction, greedily grabbing after each opportunity to get stoned and forget about the present.

Self-compassion tells you to resist the temptation to criticize harshly yourself and others. You reach the full potential in life if you are alive with kind thoughts and feelings concerning others.

Six months in a rehabilitation clinic drew a straight line between his past and his present. Victor had to learn all over again to establish contact with people. But to do that he needed to notice their engaging characters, rather than labeling any new acquaintance either as a ‘valuable’ or a ‘useless’ one as he used to do before.

I was happy to accept my cousin in a small circle of my best friends. Now we could talk without raising our voices. Now we had more in common.

Self-compassion kindles a sense of belonging and connectedness. Attachment to humanity is the only way to diminish suffering.

To find new friends, Victor needed to add more positive emotions to his life. I loved him and was ready to accept him with the entire fabric of his timid personality and teach him to understand the keener pleasures of life without an abundance of money. Victor needed more people like that in his life.

The first note of compassion washes away anxiety. It was suggested by the science that self-compassion lights up regions of the brain linked to empathy, pleasure, and caregiving.

He plunged into the healing process by getting rid of regrets, doubts, and self-bitterness. Victor added to his life the rich touch of self-understanding, self-acceptance, and self-praise. It gave him power enough to think favorably about his future. I always told him he was smart enough to reach the desired, be it personal happiness, or material comforts. Finally, I saw signs that he believed in this creed.

Being kind to yourself means to learn the art of positive self-evaluation. There is nothing in this world more delightful than that state when you mentally balance between self-worth and acceptance of imperfections in yourself and in the world around.

Today Victor claims to have self-compassion enough in him to straighten his life in a balanced, heartfelt, and mindful way. He is not ignoring his past, but he is no longer exaggerating his own misconduct, rather takes the best from each experience. He needs to fight his way to happiness, always remembering about his past addiction. He praises himself for each day lived without drugs.

Conclusion

My cousin discovered inner instruments to make himself believe that he was special just the way he was. Victor doesn’t need money, recognition or fame to prove it. Today he accepts things as they are, because being not perfect means to be unique.

Victor recognizes his past mistakes and explains the reasons for them. Self-compassion taught him to admit the fact that life is painful sometimes. He radiates an atmosphere of power and productiveness, even facing hardships.

My cousin is imperfect yet magnificent as every one of us is. When he embraced what he could share with others rather than what benefit he could take from each person, he found genuine friends, people ready to be beside him even when he is in the wrong. Now his self-worth is much less easily shaken.

Stay tuned…