Oriah the mountain dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Yoga festival in Lausanne

Now how amazing is that?

http://www.yogadays.ch/

Mami thank you for being you

Tante Amina, la Lavande libano‐brésilienne…

La brume au bout de ce sentier ne peut cacher la lumière de cette unique lavande. Elle était là, bien enracinée, défendant ses belles feuilles mauves de la cruauté d’un vent barbare. Elle souffrait mais combattait et bien que certaines de ses belles feuilles furent détachées, elle ne perdit point sa volonté de vaincre le vent, en gardant un sourire luisant lui donnant  une  force  inexplicable et un charme magique. Et que dire de la tendresse qui coule de ses pétales vers les racines de la Terre ? Une tendresse généreuse qui rafraichit la Terre et lui redonne la force de supporter tous les événements longs ou passagers du temps.

Elle est bien fragile la lavande de la pureté.  Elle est délicate mais regardez sa beauté, regardez son charme, son parfum, sa douceur, sa tendresse. Un rien peut l’abimer et pourtant ses feuilles repoussent de nouveau, bien enracinées et bien plus belles.

Et   que   diriez‐vous   si   je   vous   raconte   que   j’ai rencontré cette lavande ? Oui, je l’ai rencontré sur le sentier de   la   vie ;   et   elle   parlait,   racontait   ses   histoires,   ses rencontres,  ses  passions.  Elle  était  plus  vivante  que  les vivants, plus heureuse que les nouveaux mariés, plus forte que les chênes, et plus belle que le Soleil.

Que cette lavande soit un exemple pour nous, les humains. Comme elle, nous sommes bien fragiles.  Alors, ne blâmons plus la vie pour les maux qui nous arrivent. Ne blâmons pas la vie pour les pièges qui nous surprennent. Ne blâmons pas la vie pour les souffles qui se coupent. Ne perdons pas le temps à la blâmer parce que l’oiseau qui apprend à voler doit échouer aux premiers essais. Alors arrêtons  de  blâmer  la  vie,  arrêtons  d’attendre  « que  les portes  s’ouvrent »,  et  soyons  comme  cette  lavande,  forts même si fragiles, et sortons de l’obscurité vers les rayons vifs du Soleil car l’aurore d’un nouveau jour a déjà commencé.

L’aurore d’un nouveau jour a déjà commencé pour toi, tante Amina !

Dina Hajjar

Le 22 septembre 2009

I am ok and i am on my way......

Finally , i feel read ready to start giving back

We miss you everyday

It has been already three years
It still feels like yesterday
That's because you are with us everysingle day
You are the best mom ever 
Thank you mamato
Love you always always always

When someone you loves dies
A part of yourself dies too
For as much as that person's life did not belong to you
Your heart belonged to them
You feel physical hurt
Even when you do your best to cherish every moment with them, you will never be ready to let them depart

But what i discovered and I'm sure mami is helping us from the sky
Is that our loved ones never really leave us
Physically they leave us, but spiritually they don't
And that our task is to let people we have loved and lost be alove in ourselves, memorializing their significance
"Anybody who has lost someone they love has to find a new way of loving that person, since hugs and kisses are no longer an option"
We don't have to say goodbye
Our mom lives still and forever with and through each and everyone of us

I love you papi , Toti, Hani , Teta and Khalo

We are getting married!!!!!

How incredible is it that we found a ladybug in our living room.....in the middle of snow season in Switzerland!