Do not live half a life

I came across a poem the other day that stopped me in my tracks. I’d read it once, long ago, but this time it took on an entirely new meaning and significance.

Here it is:


Do not love half lovers

Do not entertain half friends

Do not indulge in works of the half talented

Do not live half a life

and do not die a half death

If you choose silence, then be silent

When you speak, do so until you are finished

Do not silence yourself to say something

And do not speak to be silent

If you accept, then express it bluntly

Do not mask it

If you refuse then be clear about it

for an ambiguous refusal is but a weak acceptance

Do not accept half a solution

Do not believe half truths

Do not dream half a dream

Do not fantasize about half hopes


Half a drink will not quench your thirst

Half a meal will not satiate your hunger

Half the way will get you no where

Half an idea will bear you no results

Your other half is not the one you love

It is you in another time yet in the same space

It is you when you are not

Half a life is a life you didn't live

A word you have not said

A smile you postponed

A love you have not had

A friendship you did not know

To reach and not arrive

Work and not work

Attend only to be absent

What makes you a stranger to them closest to you

and they strangers to you

The half is a mere moment of inability

but you are able for you are not half a being

You are a whole that exists to live a life

not half a life.”

- Khalil Gibran


Ask yourself: are you living half a life?

If you died tomorrow, would you be happy with the way you had lived? Did you do all those things you wanted to do? Did you live the way you had dreamed of living? Did you love the way you had always wanted to love?

Khalil Gibran’s poem (as with all his writing) made me stop for a moment–because when I asked myself whether I was living ‘half a life’, my answer was yes.

I was shocked. 

Yes?! How could I, of all people, be living a half life? 

I’ve always been the fearless one, the spontaneous one, the carefree one. Carpe diem—or as we would say a few years ago, YOLO!—was basically my motto.

After reading that poem, though, I was struck by a realization. That fearless me, that spontaneous me, had been suffocated by the only real enemy that any of us have in life: fear.

Ahhh, fear. 

That good ol’ faithful friend who takes a firm grip on your heart if you let it—and once it does, it doesn’t let go. It slowly seeps into every little thought, it infects every belief, and plants seeds of doubt into every beautiful thought you think. It does this so quietly, so subtly, so effortlessly, that often, we don’t even realize it’s happening.

Without going into too much detail, the last several months have been some of the absolute worst of my life. There was a lot that happened—I became so stressed, so overwhelmed, and I was barely able to even catch my breath. It seemed like everything came crashing down all at once, and I had no idea why.

Although I’ve always loved solitude, in this particular case I felt completely alone–which was my fault. I tend to isolate when difficulty strikes, and instead of reaching out, I locked myself away. I tried to ignore my problems by maintaining an attitude of, “Well it could be worse!” which in itself, is a good way to look at things. The issue was that I wasn’t dealing with my emotions properly…I was just ignoring them. I became so overwhelmed with negative emotion, with the feeling of not knowing what to do, that this, in turn, manifested itself into extreme physical illness and excrucating pain. Since I wasn’t slowing down and dealing with things head-on, my body made me slow down. What you don’t properly deal with emotionally, always surfaces physically, even if much, much later. Alas, another problem to add to the list. When it rains it pours!

I couldn’t eat, I could barely sleep, and I ended up losing over 20 lbs…and if you know me, you know I didn’t have 20 lbs to lose. For a large part of this year I was too weak to even get out of bed. Me! The one who’s always been so energetic and happy! The one who’s always been so full of life and enthusiasm! Some days I felt fine, great even. On those days, I’d be so excited that I’d try to live normally and go to a coffee shop or even out for dinner—but then for days after, I’d be unable to do much except lay there, basically lifeless.

I felt betrayed by life–how could I, someone who is so positive, someone who always looks at the silver lining–be dealt such a bad card? 

Everything I searched regarding how to relieve stress and heal myself was so vague and generalized: “Just look on the bright side!” “Just take a deep breath!” “You’ve got this!”

Well when you’re living in stress, and then in pain on top of that, when you are in the depths of sadness, it’s really hard to just look on the bright side. In fact, all of those inspirational quotes end up being really annoying. HOW do you look on the bright side when you literally can’t see anything to be happy about?

So, I kept getting weaker and weaker, and angrier and angrier. I felt like I was deteriorating. I was angry at life. I was angry at God. I was angry at myself. and I was just so, so sad. How could these things happen to me? What had I done wrong? Why was I being punished like this? I had been so excited for the beginning of the year! I was looking forward to doing so much! I was so thrilled with the possibilities of life! Yet here I was, feeling worse than I ever had, with seemingly no end in sight.

Every challenging time happens for a reason, though, and there’s usually a blessing hidden somewhere within it. We also have to remember that problems never come without telltale signs. Life always gives you clues before (pardon my French) shit hits the fan. 

The problem is that we ignore those signs. We’re comfortable living life the way we’re used to: we go on, day to day, doing the same things, seeing the same people, eating the same food, watching the same shows, experiencing the same emotions. It’s like we’re running on autopilot. But is that really living? It sounds just like existing.

So when we find ourselves confronted with pervasive problems, our only option is to change something. Sometimes all we need to change is our diet. Sometimes, we just need to change our environment. But more often than not, what we really need to change is ourselves. 

Change, as we all know, is uncomfortable. It’s hard. You have to really delve deep within to figure out what’s going on: what emotions you’ve been blocking, what triggers you have, or whether you’ve been living out of alignment with your true self. Most of us are not willing to do that work because, let’s face it, it can be painful. So life steps in and forces us to make changes. It does this by putting us through deep emotional or physical pain, because usually that’s the only time we are motivated enough to change.

So, I had no choice but to take a deep dive within. I tried to learn as much as I could: I watched countless videos, I poured over tons of books, and I began to discover just how powerful our minds are. In order to harness that inner power, I began meditating not once, but twice a day. For a time, nothing changed. I was frustrated, to say the least. But instead of ignoring the negative emotions, I started letting myself really feel what I was feeling, and accepting the situation for what it was. Finally, over time, I noticed a sense of peace slowly setting over me. I even had moments of true joy and bliss! I began to feel calmer. Through that calmness, my mind became still, and a question popped up: Was this season in my life perhaps not punishing me, but trying to teach me something?

What hurts you, blesses you. Darkness is your candle.
— Rumi

After months of suffering and contemplation, I came to the realization that the biggest factor in so many things going wrong in my life was one simple thing:

I wasn’t being true to myself.

Sure, there were times when I was still spontaneous, fearless, and happy–but those were just glimpses of my true spirit bursting forth, here and there. For the majority of the time, however, I was not acting in accordance with my true nature. Something had masked it; something had covered it up so stealthily that worry, anxiety, and doubt became my default mode, although from the outside you would’ve never guessed it. So what was that thing that put such a dark cloak over who I was? 

Once again, we come back to fear.

Fear, essentially, disconnects you with your authentic self. It tells you you can’t do something. It convinces you that you are unworthy. It infects you with doubt and steers you towards a mediocre life, under the guise of safety, security, comfort. But what is life without risk? How can we experience pure joy without having the courage to truly go for what we want? If we don’t follow what tugs at our souls, then we fall into the trap of living a half life, a life caged by reason and logic–and reason and logic have no place in a life that’s truly magical. 

When you lose this connection to your true, authentic self, you lose the connection between everything else in your life—health, wealth, relationships, career, you name it. It’s only through a true understanding of who you are that you can begin to live life beautifully. Then, life transforms. It goes from being painful, arduous, and confusing, to being utterly magical and divine. 

I realized that doubt and fear had put me on a path that made so many things in my life go wrong. For a long time, I had hidden my true thoughts and feelings from others in favor of protecting my own heart. And there’s nothing wrong with that: protecting your heart and valuing your inner peace guards you against those who don’t always have the best intentions. But there’s a caveat: when you overprotect yourself, when you hide who you are because you’re afraid, slowly, over time, you end up losing touch with who you are. This, I believe, is when problems arise.

I had let fear take the reins. I was so afraid of showing how I truly felt—or feeling any emotion wholeheartedly— that I kept silent about many things. I was so afraid of failure, of betrayal, of rejection. I was afraid of fully letting in my emotions—their intensity was too much for me to handle. I was so intent on staying true to the stoic principle of amor fati, that I didn’t even allow myself to fully feel or experience certain situations–good or bad. I just shoved everything to the side and ignored them. I was often afraid of making the wrong choice, or saying the wrong thing, and I doubted literally everything. I kept thinking, what if it all goes wrong?

And that “what if” question can be so dangerous: what if it doesn’t go the way I planned? What if I fail? What if I am left utterly broken?

However–and this is part of the beautifully designed game of life–the reverse works just as well. 

You can play that “what if” game, but to your advantage: What if it works out greater than I could have ever imagined? What if I become happy beyond belief? What if I end up actually living my dream life?

Here’s where the power of your mind comes in. We have the choice in every moment about how we react. I know when you’re in the depths of darkness and everything seems to be working against you, choosing to be happy is maybe the most difficult thing in the world. It seems impossible. But that choice is still there. We can accept the moment, fully let it be what it is, and have faith that through the power of our attention, through the power of a calm and grateful mind, in time, things can and will improve. It’s a sure thing. 


Live life as if everything is rigged in your favor.
— Rumi

The mind is so powerful, in fact, that if you don’t know how to tame it, it can—and will—be your worst enemy.

But the opposite holds true, as well: your mind is literally powerful enough to completely change things around you and make you the absolute best version of yourself! And the best version of you is always full of courage!

There’s no worse curse than looking back on your life and wishing you had lived it differently. “Half a life is a life you didn't live.” Oh, can you imagine? Realizing one day, when you’re old, that you didn’t even live? That you didn’t go for it, whatever it is for you?

Well I aim to LIVE. 

Fully. Deliciously. Passionately.

Who cares what others think? Who cares if things don’t go as planned? At least you tried your best! At least you put your heart and soul out in the open and really went for it! At least you lived TRUE to yourself! 

I want to experience every bit of life. I want to squeeze everything I can out of it, tasting every last drop. I deeply desire to live life deliciously—to look back on it when I’m 90 and say, wow, what a ride! I want to experience life’s utter beauty, its thrill, its never ending wonder. I know now that the dark moments are part of that, too. It’s hard to remember that when you’re going through some hard times, I know. You feel like it’ll never end. But I can promise you, if you take the time to go within, if you honor yourself by showing up for yourself, the bad times will end. Things will get better.

We all stumble sometimes, that’s just part of being human. But instead of judging ourselves, let’s be a little bit nicer to ourselves. Forgive ourselves. Love ourselves. For when we truly love ourselves, we can love others even more deeply. And if we love ourselves and others, well, then the entire world heals.

Life comes in seasons: there are the good seasons, there are the boring ones, there are the bad seasons…and then, then there are those seasons that are absolute fairytales; the seasons that are so good that you feel like you’re dreaming. Just trust that the universe has your back. It’s not working against you, although sometimes that’s exactly what it feels like. The universe simply mirrors back to you what you put out, so if you’re putting out fear, doubt, and insecurity, that’s exactly what you’ll get back. But if you put out love, appreciation, and compassion, you’ll get experiences that will fill you with wonder and awe, with the pure magic of life. 

Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you love. It will not lead you astray.
— Rumi

What I’ve learned is that it isn’t really about being fearless at all. On the contrary–it’s about having courage even in the face of fear. It’s about staying true to your heart even if that means you feel vulnerable.

We forget that vulnerability is strength. It shows that you’re courageous, even in the midst of the unknown. Truly living, then, means being vulnerable. It means loving others, no matter what. It means loving yourself, no matter what!

You can still feel fear, but instead of letting it take the lead, look at it with love and gently see it for what it is–a well-meaning friend. Don’t resist fear. Just have it sit down next to you, until it transforms itself into love. Because that’s all fear is, really. It loves you so much that it tries to protect you at all costs. But it often holds you back–so don’t let fear win!

Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.
— Rumi

We are truly more powerful than we think.

We have the power within us to overcome and change any situation in our lives. If we stay true to ourselves, if every decision we make is led by love, if we express gratitude for all that we have, then more and more good will appear. We will begin to live so joyfully!

From now on, I aim to be strong, yet vulnerable. Powerful, yet humble. Compassionate, yet discerning. Lighthearted, yet wise. With gratitude, I think any situation can transform into something greater than we could’ve even imagined.

I’m still figuring it out as I go. All I know is that as long as you have a courageous, loving heart, you can truly do anything. 

With love,

Ika






Courage Unmasked

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Few literary texts have had as lasting an effect on the study of ethics and moral goodness as Cicero’s De Officiis. For a time, De Officiis was the leading work on moral authority, looked upon by Aquinas, Voltaire, Locke, and countless other great minds as an essential and preeminent guide to honorable living. Cicero’s expertise has become a superior source for research and inquisition into what it means to be a person of virtue. Cicero believes there are four main virtues from which duty springs forth—Wisdom, or the pursuit of truth; Justice, or giving to a man what is his due; Courage, or the power and strength of an unconquerable spirit; and Temperance, or self-control and moderation in thought, speech, and action. Although these virtues are all honorable and noble traits, he mentions one virtue that is distinct from the others in its inherent weakness—namely, that it cannot be solely called a virtue without the presence of at least one of the other three. Cicero puts forth the idea in passage 46 in De Officiis, that courage, in a man who does not possess wisdom, is prone to many faults; it can be too ardent or impulsive. Courage, though admirable, cannot by itself stand alone without the aid of the other three virtues, for its nature is prone to falling victim to vices that debilitate and alter the virtue altogether. Cicero does not expound on this idea and moves quickly onto his next topic of discussion, yet the idea that courage needs the assistance of the other virtues is integral to understanding why justice, wisdom, and temperance are so vital to living a life of moral goodness. Thus we come to see that courage is not as potent without at least one of the other three cardinal virtues, which are essential to living a good, honorable life.

Courage is a virtue that is necessary in overcoming fear, and aids human beings in living lives that are more exuberant, passionate, and exciting in nature. Courage enables us to separate ourselves from cowardice and leap towards the echelons of greatness and glory. It is difficult to imagine a general without courage, a warrior without bravery, or a noble king without fortitude. Cicero states that duty is doing what is best for the common good, and in the case of justice, wisdom, and temperance, it is evident that the common good is at the driving core. However, courage is a virtue that can be distorted; it can twist itself from an action that is done for the common good into an action that is done for selfish profit. A warrior can demonstrate the heights of selfless courage by putting himself in danger’s way and protecting those weaker than him, yet he may also demonstrate courage in order to attain his own personal goals, whether it be revenge, to gain glory and fame, or to win a reputation of bravery that benefits none others save for his own ambitious pursuits. These aims, however, bring only temporary satisfaction and achieve nothing but fleeting success if not coupled with wisdom, justice, or temperance.

Cicero’s interpretation of what courage means can be demonstrated between the comparison of two famed heroes, Achilles and Aeneas. For example, courage is exemplified many times throughout Homer’s Iliad. The Iliad is strewn with heroes who demonstrated fortitude and bravery amid the Trojan war, but none, perhaps, were as revered as Achilles. Considered by many to be the greatest warrior in Greek history, his reputation as a brilliant and unmatched fighter was perhaps second to his reputation for uncontrollable wrath and anger. The Iliad itself begins with a call to the Muses, in which Homer introduces the famous ire that brought about the ruin and slaughter of so many Achaians. This lack of temperance clouded Achilles’ judgment and urged him towards a path of narcissism, fueled by selfishness and egoism. Angered at Agamemnon’s refusal to return Chryseis to her father and the suggestion that his own prize should be given to Agamemnon, Achilles retreats and decides not to fight with the rest of the Greeks. In doing so, he shows his lack of wisdom and justice—for those virtues would have compelled him to obey the orders of the commander ahead of his own interests. However, his anger overpowered him; he sulked away and let other men perish. While he chose to brood at the perceived slight against him, his fellow men fought in vain without his help as he let his skills lie dormant. His raging anger reared its head once again after news of Patroclus’ death, wherein he reemerged from his camp, slaying everyone in sight. He shows no mercy after defeating Hector, placing dishonor upon the slain hero’s body and dragging his lifeless corpse behind his chariot. Achilles’ notorious fury was slightly quelled amid Priam’s tears and exhortations to return Hector’s body to his family; his anger quieted down and his sense of justice was able to emerge, yet the damage had already been done. In passage 34 of De Officiis, Cicero states that a limit must be placed upon imposing punishment, for there are certain moral obligations that must be observed even regarding our enemies. Achilles, however, observed no such boundary and disgraced an honorable family, ravaging not only a city and its most noble leader, but a tender father’s heart. Such savagery breeds hatred; the conquered acquiring a deep-seated desire to rise up again and seek revenge. Achilles achievements seem to lie merely in his effectiveness in slaying men; he brought little honor to his people; he assisted in winning the war but tarnished and humiliated the vanquished in the process. Thus, his predisposition towards anger thwarted any longstanding success that may have been his had he more temperance.

In contrast, in Vergil’s Aeneid, Aeneas leads his people from a fallen Troy on a search for what will be the new home for the Trojans. His progress is due in part to his courage, but the elements that solidify his success are due to the combination of all four cardinal virtues being put into use. Aeneas allows nothing to impede his mission, disavowing self-interest in favor of the good of his men. Even his love for Dido did not deter him from his plans, and he was steadfast in remaining loyal to his word and finding a new resting place and home for his countrymen. Amid Dido’s wailing and threats of suicide, Aeneas’ wisdom governed his actions. Whereas most in his circumstance would have yielded to the requests of their beloved, his temperance and self-control granted him laser-like focus for his task. Aeneas’ courage was certainly of the most noble order; though surrounded by destruction and the massacre of his homeland, even still he sought to aid those who were helpless. His father Anchises, mourning the loss of his home, his country, his pride, resolved to stay and perish alongside all that he loved, urging the young and the capable to continue on into safety without him. Cloaked in wretchedness and engulfed by despair, the brokenhearted Anchises had surrendered, resigning himself to defeat; yet Aeneas, gathering his fellow men, aimed to leave no one behind who had yet survived. He appealed to his old and weary father, escaping with him anchored on his back, and leading little Ascanius by the hand. Thus, Aeneas’ courage was ignited by his sense of duty and wisdom. His sense of justice in giving his compatriots what was their due kept him from straying and succumbing to his own desires. Aeneas did not buckle, he did not waver, and stayed the course in favor of the greater good. He sought not fame and glory through his valiance, but the preservation of family and motherland. Had he exhibited courage that was not conjoined with either justice, wisdom, or temperance, it would have led him down a path of greed and ruin.

The difference between Achilles and Aeneas is profound. Although both glorious warriors, the one perished, while the other planted roots for one of the most powerful empires to ever rule on earth—The Roman Empire. While Achilles is renowned by some as the greatest warrior in history, Aeneas established the foundation for a legacy that surpassed all hopes held by the Trojans. Thus, we see that courage alone cannot bring about greatness; it must be accompanied by forethought, by self-control, and by an underlying sense of justice that radiates through in all matters. Cicero believed that whatsoever lacked justice, could not at the same time be morally right. Therefore courage, without a sense of justice, always spirals into a disgraced version of itself. Whether courage acts as a complete set with the other cardinal virtues, or is only paired with one, its effectiveness is cemented and amplified by the presence of the others, and thus the culmination of honorable living begins to take place.

A List of Favorite Books

This list doesn’t encompass all of the good books that I’ve read throughout my life. The books in this list are distinguished from the others in that they have stayed with me in my thoughts and in my heart. They’ve shaped a part of who I am.

They’re all worth reading more than once, in my opinion, and though there are many more that I wanted to mention, I’ve narrowed the list down to 50.

I chose these books more for the effects that the stories have on the human soul and mind, rather than simply for entertainment. They’re thought provoking. Some have such lush and fluid writing that you find yourself getting lost in the words, not realizing the passing time.

Some are a bit harder for the brain to understand--the language being quite difficult—but that, to me, is like lifting weights for the mind. Reading difficult books has the same effect on your brain as lifting heavy weights does on your muscles. If you keep lifting 5lb dumbbells, you’re never going to get stronger. Real growth comes from lifting the heavy stuff, or reading books that are, at first, too hard for you. But our brains are amazing—they adapt and conform to what we give to it. Much like a muscle.

The list is in no particular order, so have a look, and I’d love to hear your suggestions of what you’d add or even take away, or what you thought of any of the books on this list that you’ve also read :)

1. The Great Gatsby- F. Scott Fitzgerald

2. The Razor’s Edge - W. Somerset Maugham

3. Rules of Civility - Amor Towles

4. The Cape Cod Lighter - John O’Hara

5. The Count of Monte Cristo- Alexandre Dumas

6. The Forsyte Saga - John Galsworthy

7. The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

8. Persuasion - Jane Austen

9. The Idiot - Fyodor Dostoevsky

10. Family Happiness - Leo Tolstoy

11. Appointment in Samarra - John O’Hara

12. The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde

13. The Iliad - Homer

14. The Odyssey - Homer

15. The Aeneid - Vergil

16. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

17. The Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis

18. The Nero Wolfe series - Rex Stout.

There are 73 stories total. Read all of them, starting with the first one, Fer-de-Lance. So, yes, I’m technically adding 73 books to this list but I don’t care :)

19. Bel-Ami - Guy de Maupassant

20. Selected Stories of Richard Yates - Richard Yates lol

21. The Gift of the Magi - O.Henry

22. The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt

23. Raise High the Roof beam, Carpenters - J.D. Salinger

24. Nine Stories - J.D. Salinger

25. Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger

26. A Moveable Feast - Ernest Hemingway

27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoevsky

28. Utopia - Sir Thomas More

29. BUtterfield 8 - John O’Hara

30. Bernice Bobs Her Hair & Other Stories - (and pretty much any short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald)

31. 1984 - George Orwell

32. Animal Farm - George Orwell

33. Anna Karenina - Leo Tostoy

34. Farenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury (his short stories are also good)

35. Martin Eden - Jack London

36. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley

37. Demian - Herman Hesse

38. One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest - Ken Kesey

39. Flowers for Algernon - Daniel Keyes

40. Meditations - Marcus Aurelius

41. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle - Haruki Marukami

42. Kafka on the Shore - Haruki Marukami

43. The Hobbit - J.R.R.Tolkien

44. Shadows in Paradise - Erich Maria Remarque

45. Childhood, Boyhood, and Youth - Leo Tolstoy

46. The Sorrows of Young Werther - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

47. Of Human Bondage - W. Somerset Maugham

48. East of Eden - John Steinbeck

49. An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser

50. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

Oh. Also Harry Potter. Duh. And many other children’s books (which sometimes are more useful for adults than children themselves, but perhaps that calls for another list in the future).

happy reading!

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To Papa, Forever.

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I am the fourth, and youngest, daughter of a great man. This man, gifted with brilliance, was a man of accomplishment, of prestige, and of repute. A man whose versatile vernacular commanded audiences spanning the East and West. A man whose genius rivals only his kindness, the magnitude of which warms the hearts of not only those under his wing, but of those who merely pass by his presence.

So with his abrupt and sudden death my entire life was thrown into a dark abyss. His passing revealed a level of despair I had only read about in novels, and I was left mercilessly shaken. Alone in the dark, I stumbled on a path so unclear towards a light so feeble. Stark was the contrast from my previous life to the one I was bound to live.

After such a loss it is difficult to assess what to do next. Time seemed to be at a standstill and things that previously seemed to be of utmost importance carried no weight at all. I began to reevaluate my position in life and what meaning my day to day life provided. Consequently, many things simply fell off— I left my job teaching full time ballet, for I was unable to carry on such a workload. I ended a relationship with my longtime sweetheart and changed my place of residence to rid myself of constant reminders. My entire life had deviated from the course I had been on since childhood and about-faced right in front of my eyes.

As a result, I delved inward. I began to search for a purpose in life that was not tied to anyone or anything, and I yearned for something that would fulfill my soul at the core. Perhaps due to the deep chasm created by the void I felt from losing someone so close to me, I ached for something more. By focusing on my inner being I began to learn about things that were far greater in lasting power than outward success, approval from others, or petty social jealousies or insecurities. In my utter self-absorption after my father’s passing (centering on “why me”), my studies on subjects of personal growth provided me with a stepping stone towards the happiness I never thought I would find. In my readings I noticed that those I’d admired most were not only successful in the material sense, but displayed characteristics that were of major significance in creating a person of consequence— namely, the characteristics of dignity, honor, strength, kindness, and honesty— and those ingredients, though satisfactory, needed one other catalyst to propel them to a new level.

Selflessness. 

Having little concern for oneself and high regard for others rouses in us our highest form, for when we connect with people and offer ourselves to those in need, we blossom in our hearts, and the flowering of our spirit begins.

Such is the caliber of my Father, the passing of whom has awakened in me a change only he could have brought about, his hand ever so gently guiding me, the constant twinkle in his eye reassuring me that all is well, his example influencing my every move, helping me to slowly become the best version of myself. And by doing that, by becoming the best version of ourselves, are we not, ultimately, helping others do the same? I will forever be grateful for the gift of being my father’s daughter, and for the lessons he continuously bestows upon me. He taught me, in his stern and somber, yet mischievous and childlike, way, the importance of dignity and strength of character. He is the one that instilled in me the love of knowledge, the one who, alongside my mother, introduced to me the great books and thinkers of the past.  But, as with many things, it was only after his passing that I really understood the magnitude of his words and his example. His essence is my essence, and anything I do that carries with it any weight is dedicated to him. His accomplishments, his surreal power in overcoming immense obstacles, and his kind kind heart, all give me strength. I feel peace and vitality when I look at his pictures, as though there is a fortress around me where I can be touched by nothing. And today, on his birthday, I think of him in even greater depth than I do on other days. What a great gift I have been given in this life, to be his daughter. I truly hope and pray that I live up to such a tremendous privilege. My father. I love you doesn’t even begin to capture it.

To papa, forever.

Just a few mathematicians.

Just a few mathematicians.

With his best friend, fellow mathematician Dr. Alexander Dranishnikov.

With his best friend, fellow mathematician Dr. Alexander Dranishnikov.

As a boy with his mother and father, Tbilisi, Georgia

As a boy with his mother and father, Tbilisi, Georgia

Baby Alex.

Baby Alex.

Our first month in North America.

Our first month in North America.

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Father and daughter.

Father and daughter.

Dr. Alexander Chigogidze during his travels.

Dr. Alexander Chigogidze during his travels.

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Chigogidze family.

Chigogidze family.

New York City.

New York City.

Final resting place, with his father and mother, Tbilisi, Georgia.

Final resting place, with his father and mother, Tbilisi, Georgia.

Happiness

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“the wound is the place where the light enters you.” #Rumi

When I was a little girl I oftentimes sat beside our living room window as the sun set in the early evenings, and I’d watch the colors of the neighborhood change, and I'd daydream. I would gaze at the ebb and flow of the Aurora Borealis and peer at the glimmering stars sprinkled across the dark sky. There was a beauty in those evenings; a peacefulness with its own unique quality— different from that during the dead of night or early dawn. This was during the quiet that emerges just before a dream starts to form-- right before the earth falls asleep. The colors were pink and purple and deep blue, and gave an ethereal hue to the wide open, mysterious sky.

I led a calm life, consisting of school, ballet lessons, and quiet evenings at home. I lived in a constant daydream. Through the voracious appetite for books gifted to me by my parents, I yearned for a life similar in tone to those that I'd read in stories. "I hope I get to live an exciting life!" I'd say to myself, like the hero and heroines of classic tales. Though I was born in Europe and moved around quite a bit in my youth, I really was too young to understand or appreciate it. School, ballet, and home life were the basis of my existence, and I had little time for adventure, socializing, or excitement.

Thus, I ached for something more.

Many people travel to escape; to escape reality, escape relationships, escape the drab of everyday life. I have traveled a little and it is only recently that I have begun to appreciate it for what it really is.  I sailed the Caribbean seas, roamed the beaches of The Bahamas, explored the rural villages of Mexico (am I sounding like a pirate? I’m definitely a pirate), and dogsledded on the glaciers of icy, brilliant Alaska; but with each new place, I experienced a restlessness and an unease that left me feeling emptier than before. I hankered for the familiarities and comforts of, not necessarily home life, but of something I couldn't quite pinpoint. I wanted excitement, thrilling adventure, intrigue, connection -- I wanted more!

I began to read even more hungrily than before. I read of ancient lands and troubled souls; I read of fated lovers and jealous rivals; I read of faraway palaces and noble characters; I read books that were too difficult for me as well as books that were written for children; I read Tolstoy, Maupassant, Dostoevksy, Stout, Dumas, Dreiser, Murakami -- and with each story my mind was opened up to vast new worlds. Through these tales I lived a life exponentially more vibrant than my reality -- until I moved to New York City.

Well, if you want excitement, there it is! The City that Never Sleeps. For every interesting character I came across in novels, I met even weirder ones in New York. I met musicians that doubled as construction workers; police officers that wrote poetry, struggling artists that served pizza and wine. I walked the avenues endlessly, at all hours of the day and night (probably not the safest choice in the world to go on walks at 3am but I had the boundless self-assurance of a 19 year old!), I ate some of the best food I've ever had from street carts and hole-in-the-wall delis. I scoured bookstores in the Upper West Side and played chess in the west village. I got chased by a rabbit-sized cockroach (not even joking, I'll write about this in a future post), and locked eyes with someone in passing with blazing intensity whom I will never see again. I gazed at the city from the window in my room. I saw lovers walking hand in hand. I left secret notes in random books on bookstore shelves. I window-shopped on 5th avenue. I dined at Georgian restaurants with my papa.

I wrote while sitting on benches in Central Park. I once watched four broadway shows in seven days. I fell in love for the first time. I made amazing friends. I watched the sun come up on rooftops. I danced. I took class. I performed. I laughed until my sides hurt and sat in somber silence for hours. I had about seventeen different jobs while I lived there and met more people than I can even remember. I couldn't have asked for a more adventurous place to live, and yet-- and yet! I still felt as though I was missing something.

Then, through searing pain and loss, the way of true meaning revealed itself. Instead of seeking the next best thing and always living for the future, I became aware of just how fierce our present moment can be. When riddled with darkness and the shroud of sadness,I began to withdraw into myself with greater intensity, and learned that if I first let myself pass through those shadows and alleyways, not numbing the pain but feeling it, I could begin to understand, and then overcome. By letting your tender heart sense its own fervent beating you let its true strength rise forth. Like the ancient Persian poet Rumi said, “the wound is the place where the light enters you.

Thus, the difficult times in my life opened up the doors towards happiness. Once I delved onto a spiritual path, I began to be happier. And though I’ve always valued privacy, independence, and freedom, I never really understood their meaning until I was awakened to the feeling of liberation that arises when you get to know yourself through solitude. It is such a sense of comfort and strength to know your essence and your source. An everlasting and bountiful sense of joy and wisdom rises up in you— and you feel a connection with everything. I’ve noticed, as time has gone on, that the happier I am with myself the more pleasant each adventure and trip becomes. I can travel alone and still have a blast. Even my day-to-day interactions are gilded in little droplets of bliss and charm. I guess the old adage rings true; that “wherever you go, there you are.” You can’t escape yourself no matter where you go :) so why not try to be happy?

We all seek happiness conditionally; I’ll be happy when I achieve this, or I’ll be happy once I have that. But happiness exists in our very nature. We don’t need to seek it elsewhere — to do so is pure folly. It always lies within ourselves. We can have the most luxurious surroundings and be among the best people, but unless we are happy with ourselves, and unless we get in touch with our spiritual natures, we will always strive for more, more, more, never feeling fulfilled and always asking, “what now?” And how do we become happy with ourselves? By repeatedly doing the good thing. By repeatedly doing the honorable thing. By showing respect to ourselves, our bodies, and others. By using our talents to their fullest degree. Even after slipping and making errors, we can still continue to be happy by learning from the mistake and choosing to do better next time. Aristotle said it best, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” Goodness must become a habit, and when it does, we will be happy anywhere we go :)

So I’ve learned, through time, that you don’t have to be in the most impressive cities or do the most thrilling things — you can, of course, if you so desire— but you don’t need to in order to be happy. You can be happy anywhere. It is not reliant upon any outside source. And so, true happiness, to me, is this: to be able to be anywhere and still have a genuine smile on your face.
I will strive to achieve this all my life, but until then, I am content just being on the journey :)

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Don't Rush

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I'm a romantic by nature. I've always been drawn to love stories, tales of heroic feats, legends of powerful and fated loves. Seeing an old married couple walking hand in hand has always melted my heart, and the everyday stories of how couples met and in turn maintained their bliss has always been an interest to me. I'm not a huge cheesy rom-com fan, but I do love a poetic and dramatic love story in almost any form. Love is our essence-- and it is something that most people want to find in life. 

So, what happens when that part of your life is less active than a sloth on holiday in the Bahamas? What happens, when, try as you might, you just can’t seem to meet the person of your dreams? Or you keep sabotaging your relationships or falling into the wrong ones? Well, I'm here to tell you my take on this very common situation and what to do about it :)

I grew up in a very strict household. My sisters and I weren't allowed to date until after we graduated high school, and even then it was best to keep secret for fear of getting in trouble with our parents. Oftentimes (actually, all the time), I hated those rules -- I felt like I was missing out and not filling my young teenage life with fun and exciting experiences. I resented the fact that I was only allowed to go to school, dance, and parent-approved hangout sessions. I wanted to have the typical western experience of going on dates and finding love early in life. I felt all of that teenage angst and melodrama that comes with the territory of being overprotected. Little did I know, that this "overprotection" fueled in me my most useful qualities.

Because of the extra time I had by not socializing as much as I'd liked, I found time to discover what my passions were and attain my most treasured goals. 

Had I been allowed to date and hang out with friends whenever I pleased, I wouldn’t have had the hawk-like focus on dance that I had had.

Had I not been required to study and read and spend my time wisely, I would not have found the true love I have of story-telling and the wondrous world of books and literature.

I delved into my own self-discovery at a young age, which gave me the confidence and bravery to know who I am and accept myself at the deepest level. Of course, I didn't know this is what was happening. It was just a by product of reading, self-reflection, and time spent on my own.

Looking back, I understand the reasoning behind my parents' rules. I'm sure many people may disagree with me, but in my experience, the lack of dating in my adolescence  provided me with the focus and drive to know what I want and have the courage to pursue it. I want to make it clear that I wasn't living in a prison and unable to see anybody :) I had great friends (some that I still have to this day) and my childhood memories are very, very dear to me. My only point is, that romantically speaking, I had zero involvement in high school (except for passionate crushes on boys who probably didn't even know I existed!). And, looking back, so what!? So what if I couldn't go on that date, or had to say no if a boy asked me out? So what if I missed out on a party? You have your whole life to make bad decisions and be ruined by toxic relationships... kidding. :) But I do feel that my protective parents really were on to something. 

Which brings me to today. I see so many people rushing into relationships, going on any and every date they can, just because. I've had friends tell me, "well, it's a free dinner!" in reference as to why they're going on a date they're not even particularly interested in. I'm over here like, "uhhhh, I'd rather get the food to-go than sit with company I have zero interest in?" Am I alone in this? Maybe. But here's my take:

We spend so much time thinking and obsessing over the people that are wrong for us, that we could simply miss the person we’re meant to be with because we are too busy worrying over somebody else.

We've all gone through horribly difficult breakups and experienced the chilling realization that, "wow, that person I saw every day is no longer in my life anymore." Ending a relationship is one of the hardest and trying things we can ever experience. And, of course, it is normal to frolic and have fun to take your mind off of the sense of loss, but at the end of the day, it benefits nobody-- and I mean nobody-- to jump into a relationship for the sake of being in a relationship. I know that in society it's a sort of pressure to find someone, get married, have kids, etc. And while those things are absolutely one of life's pleasures and gifts, I think waiting for the person that's right for you is essential. Some people find that early in life. Some people find it later. And some people find it not at all. Here's what I think:

1) If you've already found it, good job! We are happy for you :) Honor the one you are with and remember not to lose yourself in the process.

2) If you haven't found your person yet, there is no better time for you to better yourself than now. You have the time to accomplish your goals (if you don't know what your goals are, then this is the perfect time for you to discover those goals). When you are in a relationship, half of your life is dedicated to that other person. Being single gives you the time and focus to be able to achieve self-growth, discipline, and happiness in yourself. Don't wait for somebody else to complete you. You'll end up depending on them too much, and let's face it, nobody likes clingy :) Be a complete person ready to meet another complete person, not a half waiting for another half.

A reminder:
To all my girls who want to meet the man of their dreams—he’s not gonna be charged with breaking and entering and climb in through your window to meet you. You have to actually get out of your house to meet people * cough* this is also directed at me * cough *

3)If you have not found it yet and don't think you will, that is 100% okay, too! Do you know how much there is in the world to do and see?! Life is beautiful with or without a partner by your side! There are friendships, family, new friends to meet, enchanting cities to visit, those less fortunate to help, yummy food to eat, experiences to be had. There is SO MUCH out there.  

'The world is a book, and those who don't travel only read one page.' - St. Augustine. I think we would all do well to adhere by those words. Travel helps open our eyes to the wonder of life and its meaning. Being alone is empowering. Very few people can do it without feeling uncomfortable or bored. It’s a rare treat to really get to know yourself-- and most people don’t. The ancient Greeks were really onto something—Know Thyself. It’s only through knowing yourself that you can discover your life's purpose and find joy.

I personally have not met anyone that I'd like to share my life with, but so what? If it happens for me, great! If not, I am perfectly content doing my thing :)

Moral of the story: Don't waste your time. Get to know yourself. Find your purpose through self-reflection and service to others. Give thanks and be grateful--  Life is beautiful. Happy Valentine's Day :)

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New York

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I'm flying to New York City in less than two weeks, and as much as I've told myself over the last few years that New York isn't what it used to be, and that it's lost a lot of its old charm... there's still an undeniable surge of energy you feel the moment you step out onto any of its bustling streets and feel the sheer electricity of its vibration. You'll hear the ceaseless sounds of yellow taxi cabs honking in traffic (or, lets face it, honking for no reason whatsoever), the deliverymen laughing or shouting jests at one another, bits and pieces of conversations of passersby. As much as I'd like to say I'm "over" New York-- the truth is, I am very much still in love with its entire essence.

My romance with New York began on my first visit when I was sixteen. I had been accepted as a scholarship student at a dance school on the upper west side, and as our plane flew over Manhattan and I saw the giant sky scrapers for the first time, I felt an excitement that pulsed through my entire body. Little did I know, that that was only a small precursor to the thrill that I was about to feel when driving to our hotel. I remember looking out of the backseat window of our cab and being absolutely mesmerized-- SO many people, SO many colors and lights, and buildings towering so high I couldn't even see where they reached. I decided right then that one day, I would live there. Later, I remembered what my mother had told me when I was eight years old and about to take my first ballet class at a new studio. I was extremely nervous (almost to the point of tears) and the big lump in my throat didn't help matters any! I've always had bad stage fright and nervousness before a performance, audition, or being in any new setting, and that moment especially was difficult as I was completely new to the area (we had just moved to North America only a year or two prior) and I didn't know a soul. As my mom was leading me towards the class, she pointed to a painting on the wall--- A black and gold painting of dancers in New York on stage-- she pointed to that framed picture and said to me, "See? One day you will be in New York doing the same thing! Go in, Ika." Needless to say, I loved the ballet class, and as I sat in the cab that late afternoon many years later, staring out the window in amazement-- I knew my mother was right. I would call New York home one day.

And I did! For five glorious (and not so glorious) years, New York City was my playground. I was nineteen when I packed my bags and arrived, and life definitely tested me, to say the least (dollar a day diet, anyone?). I grew, I learned, I worked hard, I fell in love for the first time, I discovered the incredible strength of the human spirit, I learned that I will always find a way, and I discovered parts of myself I never would have had I lived anywhere else. And, to top it off, my wonderful Father followed suit and moved there, too! But after a few years, I noticed something changing. Something was different. Something within New York just wasn't the same anymore. I saw cute mom & pop shops closing up and being replaced with McDonald's' or T-Mobiles; I saw swarms of people walking around with frowns on their faces, unperturbed by being shoved or jostled aside; I heard foul and disrespectful language from New Yorker to New Yorker. And while those things have always been a part of the city to a certain extent, the important thing I realized was that the charm and beauty of the Old New York (the New York that I love best-- the era of the Sinatra's or the Monroe's or the fictional Gatsby's) was gone forever. I suppose, now, that the major disillusionment came when my Papa passed away. That was a very dark time for me. His funeral was held in Greenwich Village, and certain streets and blocks hold so many memories that they are painful to walk through-- and I've been avoiding them ever since. The City now just seems dark, gray, ever-morbid, with a past that seems brighter than its future. I always associated New York with Charm, Class, Strength, and my Father, and once he was gone, New York was, too.

I didn't ever want to go back. But now, I realize that although I don't live in New York anymore, a huge, intrinsic part of me still does. I spent some of my most formative years there, learning, growing, and testing my resilience and tenacity. "If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere", right? (cue Frank Sinatra's Theme from New York, New York). Such a big part of my life still rests there, on those concrete avenues filled with dreams and hopes, in the subway trains zooming past, in the artists and writers and go-getters, in the little flower still finding the sunlight reaching through the cracks of the curb, in the quaint bookshops and 24 hour diners. New York is full of life and progress-- always going forward forward forward. And although I've had to come to terms with many losses I've felt there, I must always remember one thing; My Father, a dreamer, a mathematician, a scientist who saw beauty and love so vividly-- is still there. His ashes are now a part of the beating pulse of New York, and as his blood flows through my veins, so then is my heart ever bound to its constant pull.

So, this time, I am looking afresh at New York. It will always be a part of me. Not because of its lavish temptations and expanse of experience, the excitement it offers and the opportunities it parades, but because a literal part of me, the flesh and blood of my being, still rests there, enticing me, comforting me, telling me, "I am always here."

The Greatest Books of All Time, Part I

Pages Past Bookstore; Greensboro, North Carolina

Pages Past Bookstore; Greensboro, North Carolina

Now, I know this list may be slightly subjective, as most lists are; however, I do believe it has something of interest for every reader. The following works of fiction are not only a pleasure to peruse, but also provide the foreground for thought-provoking questions revolving around morals, destiny, and character. And who doesn't love spending the day thinking about deep, poignant things such as that!? :P

1. The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

"F. Scott Fitzgerald? What did he ever do to you?!" - Ted 2

Putting aside the influence this work of fiction has had on pop culture and mainstream media, The Great Gatsby truly is one of the greatest American novels of all time. Was Jay Gatsby a romantic dreamer, loyal to a fault? Or was he simply a crook, selfish in his designs and egotistical in his ambitions? That is something we will always argue over, as Fitzgerald so expertly makes sure that we don't ever truly find out who or what Jay Gatsby's true motivation was. We only see him through the eyes of the narrator, Nick Caraway. And, as we all know, what Susie says of Sally says more about Susie than Sally. 
Most of us were first introduced to Gatsby during our high school days, yet I don't believe that we fully grasp its tenacious grip on the American Dream, and what that means to us, until we've read it for a second, third, or (like me) fifth time. We most likely don't even grasp its depth after reading it a dozen times. Each word, each sentence has such meaning; the words fit and flow together so beautifully, it's as though Fitzgerald found the perfect painting, carved it into a thousand pieces, and crafted a puzzle whose lasting effects would haunt us for decades.

2. Family Happiness, Leo Tolstoy

What has Tolstoy written that has not been magnificent? ... Exactly. Family Happiness verges on the bittersweet, through which we are able to vividly identify ourselves with each character. Such acute intuition and dignified prose is second to none. Really, anything by Tolstoy is worth reading, and I'd suggest starting with Family Happiness. Mostly, of course, because it is a classic, but partly because it is not a mile long and does not weigh more than your first-born child :)

3. The Forsyte Saga, John Galsworthy

As I always say, there are only two types of people in the world: those who like Irene, and those who don't. If you've read The Forsyte Saga, you'll know why.
The Forsyte's are an old, well-to-do family who reside in London. They prize property as the highest good a man can achieve. In their view, without property (or wealth), what good is a man? Sensible, practical, reliable; these are words that are synonymous with the name Forsyte. Ahhhh, but then... love comes into play. And so does Irene.

Formidable. A great work exploring human nature, prejudice, family, and love.

4. The Cape Cod Lighter, John O'Hara
 

Ah, now here's a real treat for you. I was introduced to John O'Hara through a very close friend, quite possibly a mentor to me, and he suggested Butterfield 8. I loved it. And although The Cape Cod Lighter is arranged differently, my adoration fares high just the same. A collection of 23 short stories, each one seemingly more profound than the last. Seldom have I encountered a collection of short stories that has left me with an "aha!" moment after each, or a pressing compulsion to re-read the last page. A really beautiful piece of work.

5.  An American Tragedy, Theodore Dreiser
 

Heart-wrenching to some, grotesquely immoral to others, An American Tragedy is a truly gripping novel that deals with family, love, success, and the costs of ruthless ambition. Written in 1925, it follows the hunger for financial and social gain of that generation, although perhaps it is more fitting to the present day. The novel centers around Clyde Griffiths and his moral weaknesses, despite his charming and ingratiating manner. Based off of the murder of Grace Brown in 1906, Dreiser followed the criminal case and saved newspaper clippings about the murder until its denouement in 1908, when the charged criminal, Chester Gillette, was sentenced to execution via the electric chair. Interesting that Dreiser chose the same initials for his character as Chester Gillette.

Compelling, heartbreaking, and a pure classic.

 

For the next installment of The Greatest Books of All Time, I will discuss novels that follow a more light-hearted path. They're read more for pleasure, wit, and enjoyment, rather than poetic views of life.

See you then! And thanks for reading!

Ika

 

 

 

 

Montreal

You can't deny it; the French have style.

And Montreal, The City of A Hundred Bell Towers (la ville aux cent clochers), has a lot to show for the French influence.

Last week, I had the chance to travel to one of my favorite cities, Montreal. The "City of Mary" has a rich history and beautiful, old world architecture. You can find cobbled streets, beautiful churches (a replica of St. Peter's Basilica, for example), and statuesque homes on your daily strolls. Warm, cozy cafes and classy boutique shops are reminiscent of the streets of Paris, where you can see even the busiest of people enjoying a sip of espresso or laughing with a dear friend.

Montreal, je t'aime!

Westmount District

Westmount District

On a stroll through my sister's neighborhood.

On a stroll through my sister's neighborhood.

Beautiful autumn colors.

Beautiful autumn colors.

Keeping warm on a chilly day.

Keeping warm on a chilly day.