Hello World!

Probably You will ask me who am I? My honest answer, I really don’t know and I am still looking for the answer.
Who am I?

I can give you a few stereotypical answers if you wish:
My name is Ania
I am female
Currently living in the United Kingdom

To me they are just labels. Labels which are being put on us from the day we are born. Does it matter what my gender is? Does it matter where I live, or which language I speak? The colour of my skin? None of these labels define who I am, the real Me, beyond labels.

And, as I start peeling back the layers and getting rid of more and more labels, I am almost left with nothing. Scary isn’t it?

How can I prove to you that I do have physical body? That I have blood rushing through my veins, and millions of thoughts in my head? That I breathe? That I am human? I can show you my photo.

So that’s me. I do exist.
And here I am, looking for words to describe me.

Let me tell you a story about myself. When I was 7 years old I had a dream, a dream that I could fly. Do you know this feeling? I dreamt that I could take a deep breath and fill my lungs with air and start lifting off the ground. Opening my arms and begin to fly, high over the trees and blocks of flats. The feeling of freedom and happiness was tremendous. It filled me up from my toes to the top of my head. I was so happy, there were no limits! … and then I woke up.

Next day I really wanted to replicate this feeling. With a friend I built a balloon by using a cardboard box and attaching a number of balloons to it. We made a packed lunch and left it on the balcony to use the next day. During the night my mother dismantled our work. I woke up and I was devastated. I cried so much that after two hours I had no energy or tears left to cry. Mum came to me, held me close, and said: you would never fly in this box, and if you tried to use it from 4th floor quite possibly you would kill yourself.

She gave me a kiss and left me. I was quite a stubborn child I have to say, you may even call me a rebel. I went out and decided to prove my mum she was wrong. I climbed the tree, spread my arms and jumped. For a second I could feel wind on my face and the feeling of freedom.

I tried again and again and again, every day for over a month. I tried a higher tree but nothing sustained me longer in the air then a second or two. It’s a wonder I didn’t break a leg. But what I realised, is that there is something, some kind of force which is bringing me down, time after time after time. Then I went to school where I learned about gravity. And I stopped trying.

I still can’t forget this feeling of freedom I felt as a child. I searched in many different ways. I learned a lot. I thought maybe knowledge will set me free, help me to find important answers. I got two masters, two diplomas, and learned to speak three languages. I never came even close to feeling happy or free.

I have travelled a lot. I have seen many places. Met a lot of people, and had amazing moments, but those moments never lasted long.

I drunk a lot, and smoked a lot. I tried to achieve different states of consciousness by using external forces. I got completely lost for a while. I got to the state when my body started to refuse to cooperate with me.

I was in and out of relationships, healthy and not so healthy, but none of them could make me happy either. That’s when I understood the only person who could make me happy is me.

So l asked myself a question once more:
Who am I?

I found Yoga. I was absorbed and consumed by it. It became my life. It allowed me to break the limits my mind created over the years, and, it teaches me how to continue breaking free. Now here I am writing about the experience of searching for “Self”, a yogi diary.

I am just at the beginning of my journey, trying to find connection with my body and mind in our crazy world. Yoga is not a religion, I am not trying to convince you about anything, I am not trying to prove anything, I just barely am.
I love life. I love our world. I am fascinated by it. I believe beauty is in everything and everything is a beauty. The only difference is our perception. Even grass looks like a beautiful flower from the right perspective.

So I hope you will join me, on my search for happiness and freedom, and that you will continue to read my story as it manifests.

And I hope to see you next time
Namaste
Ania