Odlagališče misli

Intervju s Ferijem Lainščkom

Če bi zdaj mlademu Feriju dali nasvet, kakšen bi bil, poleg tega, da naj naredi kakšno neumnost več?

Gre za modrost – sam jo doživljam kot modrost svojega očeta –, ki mi je na to vprašanje zelo jasno odgovorila. Ko je bil oče zelo star in je živel sam na domačiji na Goričkem, sem veliko zahajal k njemu, veliko sva posedala. Zelo se spomnim, da sem prišel gor s sinom, ki je bil takrat star dve leti in je tam tekal po dvorišču. Očeta sem malo zafrkaval in ga vprašal, kaj bi dal, da bi se lahko zamenjal z vnučkom. Oče je nekaj časa molčal, potem pa je rekel: "Veš, ne bi se zamenjal." Bilo mi je čudno in nisem razumel. "Glej, jaz sem svoje življenje odživel, vem, kako je bilo. Tri vojne sem preživel. Za tvojega sina pa ne vem, kako bo." To mi je bila zdaj asociacija, ko ste me vprašali, kaj svetovati mlademu Feriju z izkušnjo starega Ferija. Rekel bi: nič. Naj prehodi znova to pot, brez tega, da bi kaj vedel o starem Feriju. Se mi zdi, da je to pravzaprav edino prav, edino mogoče in smiselno. Ker bi verjetno s to svojo izkušnjo tistega mladega Ferija le zavil v vato in ga prikrajšal za vse, kar ga je pravzaprav naredilo. Na koncu ne bi bilo nič iz njega …

What is love? by Nick Cave

 Love has something to do with the notion of being seen — the opposite of invisibility. The invisible, the unwitnessed, the unacknowledged, the isolated, the lonely — these are the unloved. Loving attention illuminates the unseen, escorting them from the frontiers of lovelessness into the observed world. To truly see someone — anyone — is an act that acknowledges and forgives our common and imperfect humanity. Love enacts a kind of vigilant perception — whether it is to a partner, a child, a co-worker, a neighbour, a fellow citizen, or any other person one may encounter in this life. Love says softly — I see you. I recognise you. You are human, as am I.

To pay witness to another, in an alert and loving manner, is essentially an act of forgiveness for it is to acknowledge with compassion our mutual human capacity for all things, both good and evil.

When we reduce each other to symbols or representations, rather than see each other as the complex, flawed human beings that we are, we engage in the very antithesis of mercy — heartlessness, condemnation and sanctimoniousness. Within this baleful clamour the luminous spirits of compassion retreat.

Decisions

A house

Our house

Creating nothing but happy memories

Milestones

Celebrations

A flat

My flat

Leaving in search of my own path

Stories

Experiences

A house

Your house

Trying to make it a home

Love

Fear

Momentary inspiration

If left in an empty room without mirrors

Do not ask me who I am

You will confuse and frighten me

For you see, I don’t know myself

I am forever shaped by other people

You drink, I drink

If you let me be free

I will become vengeful, angry and evil

I need to be controlled by other people

Or else I will not belong

You self-destruct, I self-destruct

Do not put me in a cage

I will rage, I will try to break free

Am I strong enough to see the strength in my weaknesses

You’re blind, I’m blind

To truly let go, I had to meet you first

I wake up at 3:18. My eyes feel as though they're opening in slow motion. I feel strangely at peace, almost optimistic about the day ahead. It wasn’t going to be a special day; it was suppose to be a normal Monday and yet I feel happy.

I close my eyes, turn around, fall asleep and wake up to this dream: there’s a car chase going on. Police cars are everywhere and they’re looking for someone. All of a sudden a car stops and my brother is in the front seat with a woman with blond hair behind the wheel. Very casually I get in the back seat. We start driving but no one says a word; the woman turns the siren on whenever needed. We stop just before a gas station, because my brother needs to get something. When we’re alone, the woman turns to me and says: “You have a son right?” To which I again casually and with all conviction reply: “Yeah, I do.”

“What’s his name?” she asks.

I open my mouth to say his name and suddenly realise I can’t remember. I look at her hoping she can help me remember. I find it strange that I have no idea what my son’s name is or where he is or how he looks like or who’s taking care of him because it’s obvious I am not.

At that moment my brother returns and I feel relief. I am certain he will know.

I turn to him: “I do have a son, right?”

He replies: “Yeah, look.” He shows me pictures of him on his phone.

“Well, who’s taking care of him?”

“I am”, my brother replies surprised.

I go through the pictures of my son and he’s quite grown and he’s smiling and looks happy.

“Oh, I’m glad he’s ok” I say and a strong sense of relief and peace overcomes me.

“So what is his name, I can’t seem to remember.”

My brother looks at me and at that moment I can feel my body pulling me out of my dream. When I find myself in my bed again the answer comes to me so suddenly I barely manage to catch it.

There is no name to remember.

Meet Mr. Belly

As soon as I wrote the tittle I wondered why I identify a part of my body as male. I won’t go into this right now, although it seems as though I should. Let’s put a pin in it.

Anyhow, Mr. Belly has been with me ever since I was told women shouldn’t have large bellies. Supposedly it’s OK to have a large ass and thighs the size of tree trunks as long as there's no belly. Everyone who knows me has heard this story a trillion times before and yet I keep telling it because I believed it. I still do, it’s how I measure my beauty.

For that reason I never treated Mr. Belly with any respect. I tried losing him in every way possible. Diets, exercise, big jumpers, simply denying I have him so I guess it’s no wonder he’s just getting bigger. Maybe he’s just defending himself.

To be honest I put him through a lot. There were hard choices, fears, tears, goodbyes and on top of it all pure hatred focused only on him.

I’m going on holiday tomorrow, which means bathing suits and I feel more vulnerable than ever.

I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror and realised I am tired of body shaming myself. I know it’s superficial but I need to expose myself. It feels as though it might help so I want to try it. In reality it’s nothing special, but I can’t think of another way to sort this out.

Mr. Belly, you have been with me all my life and you’re here to stay, which is almost beautiful. I will do my best to embrace you, care for you and love you.  

Shape Shifter

You're thirsty

I become water

You're tired

I become a blanket

You're sad

I become a tear

You're angry

I become a fist

You're happy

I become a smile

You're lonely

I become a hug

You're confused

I become an answer

I am ... empty.