Connection and Attraction


 ( private edition ) 

citations from book 
I  believe

... I believe that nothing happens without a reason. Our actions, out and out words, as a stone thrown into still water, ripple throughout time and space. They don't vanish and fade away, but rather surround us like a bubble. Perhaps their present impact is insignificant, but much later they can cause an elementary effect. They might just pile up on each other for centuries without being needed, and then later become more meaningful in someone in order to help them survive, forgive and be happy. It is like the evolution of the dripstone. This way all of our and our ancestor's deeds, ideas, sense and sensibility will be retained in unity. To become a universal hoard, which can serve as a resource for the needy. Time and space don't matter. Soul, thought and love matters only. To be able to open our soul to the incomprehensible and to the invisible. To hear the inaudible and make it loud for everyone. To be able to accept the intention and fulfill the purpose of our lives, sometimes in a painful way. Not everyone has the ability or the opportunity to recognize and accept this path. It's hard to say whether it is a blessing or a curse.

All of the people in the story are real, their existence spans through centuries and across continents. Their relation to one another is undeniable; they affect and respond to each other, however, they are not always aware of it. Their life, acts, existence, stories and relationships are both rational and irrational, and they are here to reveal the answer of why.

"There is no way to happiness, happiness is the way."


In lieu of a letter..... 

           A strange story began to unfold during the night of 28.02.2016. Somewhere in the world someone wanted to witness the success of his compatriot. And while she wished to see success, she watched a movie which she had already seen. And not only once. That film never failed to have an inexplicable effect on her. But this night, that effect was quite different. It was not the subject of the film that got her. This night she got to know the fate of the human playing the main role in the story. And from that moment it remained captive in her. And there were only questions. For a while ...

         She started out seeking for answers on a road on which book-learned knowledge was not enough. A short story was born first, one that was a whole right when it was delivered. Others found it to be good too. And then came the questions. What for? Why was it she who had had to write it? And what was her role in that story? And in order to find the answers, she had to turn into a Searcher. She had to shed her civic upbringing to get ahead. The road lead through getting to know and accept herself. Her first station was Krisztina's book. A book of fear, being at a lost and longing for release. But after writing and sending it, she remained captive nonetheless. So she continued to work on searching for the whys. She waded through incredible depths. Every second of the recent period that she did not spend working, was about this. And that was no little time.

        Because there was one person's fate to focus on. And while continuing to search, she realised that that fate was the fate of two persons, entangled for some obscure reason, no matter how far they happened to be from each other. There was the sometimes intolerable pang of the tension caused by anguish. And it was amidst incredible emotions that a new volume, of four quarters, was born. She did not dispatch the fourth quarter. There was no reason for her to do so, it was only driven by a feeling. But she always listened to her feelings. This is what she did this time too. She wrote that the first three parts had to be read and felt. As it turned out, it was not only for the Other but for herself too. And at the dawn of one particular day she realised what had been nagging her. It was that her writing had not yet been finished, and, most of all, that it was not good!

        And she may only send something that is perfect. Anything imperfect would be unworthy. Unworthy of the situation, because the situation is special. Unworthy of the people, because they are also special.

No improvement can be made. If it is not perfect, it has no chance of making an impact. There is no chance to explain what she had found after many hours of thinking, reading and brain racking. She has no chance of saying what has to be said. Indeed, even perfection may not be enough!

      Because the Other, for whom all of this is meant to be said, is closed to the world. Very tightly. And cautious. Very much so. And vulnerable. Highly indeed. Marred by life and it has not healed. He dares not believe that he may be given. Given something by someone. Fearing that this is a hoax. Fearing that this is a trap. It stems from his status and personality. Scared of publicity, which he cannot afford to face. Exposed, he would be shaken. Perhaps even devastated. Nurturing the equilibrium achieved. Fearing the unknown. So keeping on, on the trodden path. Where he can minimise risks. Assessing what he has to lose. Not assessing what he might win. Or finding it too little. Or unnecessary. Or he is not even interested at all. Because its nobody else's business. It's his very own business.  What he can give now, he gives.

       Once he can get over instinctive rejection, he will be able to think these things over. The more than peculiar story. And it's more than peculiar actors. That Fate has brought him something unusual. Offering something special. Something very special. Something hard to believe. And this cannot be a mere coincidence. It demands attention. It is worth accepting. It can be accepted. It must be accepted. But that would take openness.

So, open up he must! Open up! Open up! Open up!

'Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win,by fearing to attempt.'


         One has to open up and the other has to align doubts, feelings and signs. Be they heavy as lead or light as a feather. Only their presence counts. Time is too long. Her feelings are too strong. Thoughts are heavy. And there is a reason for this. She found that the poem makes no sense in itself. What Elah had said was said to her. And this is all too little here and now. This is not what is needed now. Something else, something different is needed. No eternal truths are wanted here. Because every moment and every participant is special. This is what really counts, the essence.

         After many a sleepless night, something was born. Something unique. Something for one person only. Answer to the question How am I going to survive this? The loss needs not be forgotten, nor processed, nor left behind - no new chapter needs to be started. Such commonplace thoughts. They say that time will make it fade, dampen the pain, the acute sense of void. But that is not so. Particularly not in this case. Something very different has to be done! And this something different has just been found by someone. And, as a result of what she has gone through, she feels she has to pass it on. Someone whose life has changed, took a different direction, just like that, overnight. Someone who's gone through an incredible metamorphosis. She created something which took infinite energies to accomplish. For this, she used her ancestors, all of the knowledge, experience and emotions in her possession. To which she added all that she built up in nearly a year and a half. She had never devoted so much time to anything before. She had never worked so much for anything before. She had never wanted to give so much to anybody. Time did not count, the career did not matter. Her own goals or desires, did not count. Nothing mattered. Meanwhile, she got to know herself. Learned how to see with her heart. Learned to love in a way different than before.

One who reads with his eyes, only reads a book.

But one reading with his heart, will find possibilities

and what is important for him!