|
|
|
This is a platform for our affinity group, our squat Positivenest, our projects like Program Awakening, and the videos and posters manufactured by Spirit of Squatters Collective and a few others. Our idea is to bring a lot of positive messages and constructive solutions to the alternative movement. We try to avoid pessimistic news, except when we are fighting for freedom of speech. Real life starts when we turn off our computer, our tv, etc. If you want to contact us, email mgriks@gmail.com
|
|
|
ðUnlock the Power of Love and Connection - Join Our Modern Tantra Retreat in Koh Phangan! ðī
Are you ready to experience profound healing, deeper connection, and true freedom? Join us for "Modern Tantra Retreat", where ancient wisdom meets modern practices, creating a journey of love, growth, and liberation.
In today's fast-paced world, Tantra has evolved into a powerful path for conscious relationships, authentic connection, and self-discovery. It's no longer a secret practice—it's an accessible and transformative way to live fully and love deeply.
ð
What Awaits You?
At this retreat, you'll dive into practices that empower and expand your heart, mind, and soul, including:
✨ Sublimation: The "Use it, Don't Lose it" method
✨ Conscious Relationships & Love Languages
✨ Erotic Blueprints
✨ Boundaries & The Wheel of Consent
✨ Tantric Massage
✨ Tantra Yoga
✨ Shamanic Tantra
…and so much more!
Whether you're single, partnered, or exploring love in all its forms, this retreat offers tools for transformation that will stay with you for a lifetime.
ð Location: Koh Phangan - A tropical, spiritual haven for healing and growth.
ð
Dates: 22-24 November 2024
ð️ Reserve Your Spot Today!
Check the event for more information:
https://www.facebook.com/events/3741387636074973/
Let's come together to learn, heal, and expand—allowing love to guide us toward a life of greater joy and freedom.
We can't wait to share this sacred experience with you! ð
Michal Kali Griks Tantra Movement
Trisha Croft. Light Of Lemuria
#ModernTantra #TantraRetreat #KohPhangan #HealingThroughLove
We're grateful for the internet, AI, and our boundless human creativity, which have made these teachings accessible to all.
Tantra itself has gained new faces, flavors, and the possibility of beautiful combinations.
It often works so simply: We have tools; you have tools. When we share, we expand our opportunities exponentially. When love is the guiding intention, these shared teachings converge into a powerful new path that we call Modern Tantra.
In its essence, Modern Tantra is about liberation, deconditioning, and infinite possibilities, fueled by human creativity and our innate drive to grow, learn, and love deeply in real life. The directions and dimensions that modern Tantra explores are vast.
Here are some of the most central to our approach. Some of them we will practice at our Modern Tantra Retreat.
Here are some of the most central to our approach:
Each of these practices enriches and expands the dimensions of love, connection, and freedom. This is the essence of modern Tantra.
All Modern People! We Invite you for Modern Tantra Retreat 22-24 November.
By Trisha Croft and Michal Kali Griks and their new Love Academy - the fusion of Light Of Lemuria and Tantra Movement.
[āļāļģāđāļāļĨāļ āļēāļĐāļēāđāļāļĒāļāļĒู่āļ้āļēāļāļĨ่āļēāļ]
Chapter: The Humble Tantra Teacher and the Coconut Secret
I was lying in bed, half-asleep, half-awake, letting my mind wander into that delicious space between dreaming and being awake when an idea struck me—like an epiphany straight from the universe, only this one came with a sprinkle of coconut meat and a generous helping of irony.
You see, I've been working on this whole "living humbly" thing lately. You know, embracing the simplicity of life, having no pressure to make more money than I need, finding peace in just being. Sounds spiritual, doesn't it? Real "teacher material."
It was during one of these peaceful moments that I thought, "I have enough money for a few months; maybe I don't need to chase abundance as hard as I used to." The simplicity of it all felt liberating, like I was really aligning with the wisdom I'd been teaching. But just as I started feeling good about my enlightened approach, my stomach growled and the universe whispered a different kind of message: Coconut.
Now, I love coconuts, and I know a lovely fruit lady who sells the best ones at the market. But here's the thing: most people just drink the water and toss the meat aside. It's a travesty! But hey, their waste could be my opportunity. "Why don't I just ask her to give me the leftover coconut meat?" I thought to myself. Genius, right? Free food, no waste—everyone wins.
Except, suddenly, a not-so-enlightened voice chimed in, "Wait… What about your image, Tantra Teacher?"
You see, being a Tantra teacher has its perks. People look up to you, revere you (at least sometimes), and expect a certain aura of mystique. There's this subtle pressure to appear a bit… otherworldly. If word got out that I was eating discarded coconut meat from the local fruit vendor, what would that do to my reputation? Would my students still see me as a spiritual guide, or just a guy scavenging for coconut leftovers?
The thought was almost laughable. Here I was, talking all the time about shedding ego, about how status and material things don't define us, and yet here I was, suddenly worried about coconut meat and how it might affect my Tantra Teacher image. The irony wasn't lost on me.
But then another thought popped in, uninvited, like a cheeky trickster god: "Maybe you should ask her to keep it a secret. You know, a little coconut-under-the-table deal." And there it was, the absurdity of it all. I was considering a covert operation to secure free coconut meat without compromising my so-called spiritual status.
But really, should I be the one who feels ashamed for wanting to use perfectly good food? Shouldn't they—the ones tossing it away—be the ones feeling ashamed? What kind of world do we live in where the one making use of what's left behind has to worry about his reputation while the wasteful ones get a pass?
In that moment, I realized something: the coconut dilemma was less about the actual food and more about my own ego. It was showing me that even the most spiritual among us can still get caught up in the ridiculous game of appearances. It was a cosmic joke, and the punchline was me. The universe was reminding me that, yes, I'm human, too. Even as a Tantra teacher, I'm still learning, still stumbling, still getting tangled in the very ego traps I teach others to avoid.
And so, I laughed. I laughed at myself, at the absurdity of worrying about how people would perceive me eating leftover coconut meat. I laughed at the idea that I would ever think my worth as a teacher was tied to something as superficial as that.
The truth is, being a teacher doesn't mean you stop having an ego. It just means you get better at noticing when your ego is playing tricks on you. The real mastery is in laughing at yourself when you see it happening—and then letting it go.
So, the next morning, I went to the fruit lady with a grin on my face. "Could I have all the leftover coconut meat from the ones you sell?" I asked her. "And you don't need to keep it a secret. In fact, I'll probably tell people about it myself."
Because the truth is, being a Tantra teacher isn't about being perfect or maintaining some enlightened façade. It's about being real, being human, and yes, even eating leftover coconut meat if that's what feels right. If people stop coming to my retreats because of that, well, maybe they weren't ready for the real teachings anyway.
The lesson? Don't let your ego dictate your life—even when it comes to something as small as coconuts. And more importantly, don't take yourself too seriously. We're all students of life, teachers and learners alike, forever humbled by the next cosmic joke the universe has in store for us.
Aho!
āļāļ: āļāļĢูāļŠāļāļāļัāļāļāļĢāļ°āļู้āļ่āļāļĄāļāļāļัāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļĨัāļāļāļāļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§
āļัāļāļāļāļāļāļĒู่āļāļāđāļีāļĒāļ āļāļĢึ่āļāļŦāļĨัāļāļāļĢึ่āļāļื่āļ āļāļĨ่āļāļĒāđāļŦ้āļิāļāđāļāļĨ่āļāļāļĨāļāļĒāđāļāđāļāļื้āļāļี่āļĢāļ°āļŦāļ§่āļēāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļัāļāđāļĨāļ°āļāļ§āļēāļĄāļื่āļ āļี่āļึ่āļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļิāļāļŦāļึ่āļāļุāļāļึ้āļāļĄāļē—āđāļŦāļĄืāļāļāļัāļāļāļēāļĢāļĢู้āđāļ้āļāļāļēāļāļัāļāļĢāļ§āļēāļĨ āđāļ่āļĄāļēāļāļĢ้āļāļĄāļัāļāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āđāļĨāļ°āļāļ§āļēāļĄāļāļĨāļāđāļŠีāļĒāļāļŠีāđāļĨ็āļāļ้āļāļĒ
āļุāļāđāļŦ็āļāđāļŦāļĄ āļัāļāļāļģāļĨัāļāļāļĒāļēāļĒāļēāļĄāļึāļ "āļāļēāļĢāđāļ้āļีāļ§ิāļāļāļĒ่āļēāļāļ่āļāļĄāļāļ" āđāļĄื่āļāđāļĢ็āļ§āđ āļี้ āļุāļāļĢู้āđāļŦāļĄ āļĒāļāļĄāļĢัāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāđāļĢีāļĒāļāļ่āļēāļĒāļāļāļāļีāļ§ิāļ āđāļĄ่āļāļāļัāļāđāļŦ้āļ้āļāļāļŦāļēāđāļิāļāļĄāļēāļāđāļิāļāļāļ§่āļēāļี่āļāļģāđāļ็āļ āđāļĨāļ°āļ้āļāļŦāļēāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļŠāļāļāđāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāđāļ็āļāļāļĒู่ āļัāļāļูāđāļ็āļāđāļĢื่āļāļāļิāļāļ§ิāļāļāļēāļāđāļ่āđāļŦāļĄ? āļูāđāļŦāļĄืāļāļāļāļĢูāļāļĢิāļāđ āđāļĨāļĒ
āđāļāļ่āļ§āļāļŦāļึ่āļāļāļāļāļ่āļ§āļāđāļ§āļĨāļēāļี่āļŠāļāļāļŠุāļāđāļŦāļĨ่āļēāļี้ āļัāļāļิāļāļ§่āļē "āļัāļāļĄีāđāļิāļāļāļāļāļĒู่āđāļ้āļีāļāļŠāļāļāļŠāļēāļĄāđāļืāļāļ āļāļēāļāļีāļัāļāļāļēāļāđāļĄ่āļ้āļāļāđāļĨ่āļāļēāļĄāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļĄั่āļāļั่āļāļāļĒ่āļēāļāļŦāļัāļāđāļŦāļĄืāļāļāļี่āđāļāļĒāļāļģāđāļĨ้āļ§" āļāļ§āļēāļĄāđāļĢีāļĒāļāļ่āļēāļĒāļāļāļāļĄัāļāļāļģāđāļŦ้āļĢู้āļŠึāļāđāļ็āļāļิāļŠāļĢāļ° āđāļŦāļĄืāļāļāļัāļāļ§่āļēāļัāļāļāļģāļĨัāļāļŠāļāļāļāļĨ้āļāļāļัāļāļ ูāļĄิāļัāļāļāļēāļี่āļัāļāđāļāļĒāļŠāļāļāļāļĢิāļāđ āđāļ่āļัāļāđāļāļั้āļāđāļāļāļี่āļัāļāđāļĢิ่āļĄāļĢู้āļŠึāļāļีāļัāļāđāļāļ§āļāļēāļāļāļēāļĢāļĢู้āđāļ้āļāļāļāļāļัāļ āļ้āļāļāļāļāļāļัāļāļ็āļĢ้āļāļ āđāļĨāļ°āļัāļāļĢāļ§āļēāļĨāļ็āļŠ่āļāļ้āļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāđāļāļāļื่āļ: āļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§
āļāļāļāļี้ āļัāļāļāļāļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§ āđāļĨāļ°āļัāļāļĢู้āļัāļāđāļĄ่āļ้āļēāļāļĨāđāļĄ้āļี่āļ่āļēāļĢัāļāļึ่āļāļāļēāļĒāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āļี่āļีāļี่āļŠุāļāđāļāļāļĨāļēāļ āđāļ่āđāļĢื่āļāļāļĄีāļāļĒู่āļ§่āļēāļāļāļŠ่āļ§āļāđāļŦāļ่āļื่āļĄāļ้āļģāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āđāļĨ้āļ§āđāļĒāļāđāļื้āļāļิ้āļ āđāļ็āļāđāļĢื่āļāļāļ่āļēāđāļŠีāļĒāļāļēāļĒ! āđāļ่āđāļŪ้ āļāļēāļĢāđāļŠีāļĒāļāļāļāļāļāļāļāļ§āļāđāļāļēāļāļēāļāđāļ็āļāđāļāļāļēāļŠāļāļāļāļัāļ "āļāļģāđāļĄāļัāļāđāļĄ่āļāļāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āļี่āđāļŦāļĨืāļāļāļēāļāđāļāļ?" āļัāļāļิāļāļัāļāļัāļ§āđāļāļ āļāļĨāļēāļāđāļ่āđāļŦāļĄ? āļāļēāļŦāļēāļĢāļāļĢี āđāļĄ่āļĄีāļāļāļāđāļŠีāļĒ—āļุāļāļāļāļāļāļ°
āđāļ่āļัāļāđāļāļั้āļ āđāļŠีāļĒāļāļี่āđāļĄ่āļ่āļāļĒāļĄีāļŠāļิāđāļ่āļēāđāļŦāļĢ่āļ็āļัāļāļึ้āļ "āđāļี๋āļĒāļ§... āđāļĨ้āļ§āļ āļēāļāļĨัāļāļĐāļ์āļāļāļāļุāļāļĨ่āļ° āļāļĢูāļŠāļāļāļัāļāļāļĢāļ°?"
āļุāļāđāļŦ็āļāđāļŦāļĄ āļāļēāļĢāđāļ็āļāļāļĢูāļŠāļāļāļัāļāļāļĢāļ°āļĄีāļ้āļāļีāļāļĒู่āļ้āļēāļ āļู้āļāļāļĄāļāļāļุāļāđāļāđāļ่āļี āđāļāļēāļĢāļāļุāļ (āļāļĒ่āļēāļāļ้āļāļĒāļāļēāļāļāļĢั้āļ) āđāļĨāļ°āļāļēāļāļŦāļ§ัāļāļึāļāļāļāļĢ่āļēāļāļāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļĨึāļāļĨัāļ āļĄีāđāļĢāļāļāļāļัāļāđāļĨ็āļāļ้āļāļĒāđāļŦ้āļูāđāļŦāļĄืāļāļāļāļĒู่āđāļŦāļืāļāđāļĨāļ āļ้āļēāļ่āļēāļ§āđāļāļĢ่āļāļāļāđāļāļ§่āļēāļัāļāļิāļāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āđāļŦāļĨืāļāļāļēāļāđāļĄ่āļ้āļēāļāļĨāđāļĄ้āđāļāļ้āļāļāļิ่āļ āļāļ°āđāļิāļāļāļ°āđāļĢāļึ้āļāļัāļāļื่āļāđāļŠีāļĒāļāļāļāļāļัāļ? āļัāļāđāļĢีāļĒāļāļāļāļāļัāļāļāļ°āļĒัāļāđāļŦ็āļāļัāļāđāļ็āļāļāļĢูāļāļēāļāļิāļāļ§ิāļāļāļēāļāļŦāļĢืāļāđāļ่āļāļāļี่āļิāļāđāļĻāļĐāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§?
āļāļ§āļēāļĄāļิāļāļั้āļāļĄัāļāļāļĨāļāđāļŠีāļĒāļāļĢิāļ āļี่āļัāļāđāļāļēāđāļ่āļูāļāđāļĢื่āļāļāļāļēāļĢāļĨāļ°āļิ้āļāļัāļāļāļē āđāļĢื่āļāļāļี่āļŠāļāļēāļāļ°āđāļĨāļ°āļŠิ่āļāļāļāļāļāļēāļāļ§ัāļāļุāđāļĄ่āđāļ้āļāļģāļŦāļāļāđāļĢāļē āđāļ่āļัāļāđāļāļั้āļāđāļāļ āļัāļāļ็āļāļĨัāļāļĄāļēāļ§ิāļāļāđāļĢื่āļāļāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āđāļĨāļ°āļ āļēāļāļĨัāļāļĐāļ์āļāļāļāļāļĢูāļŠāļāļāļัāļāļāļĢāļ° āđāļĄ่āļāļēāļ āļัāļāļ็āđāļŦ็āļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļāļāļัāļāļāļāļāļĄัāļ
āđāļ่āđāļĨ้āļ§āļ็āļĄีāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļิāļāļีāļāļัāļāđāļāļĨ่āđāļ้āļēāļĄāļēāļāļĒ่āļēāļāđāļĄ่āļัāļāļั้āļāļัāļ§ āļĢāļēāļ§āļัāļāđāļāļāđāļ้āļēāđāļ้āļēāđāļĨ่āļŦ์ "āļāļģāđāļĄāđāļĄ่āļāļāđāļŦ้āđāļāļāđāļ็āļāđāļ็āļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļĨัāļāļĨ่āļ°? āļุāļāļĢู้āđāļŦāļĄ āļāļ§āļēāļĄāļĨัāļāđāļĨ็āļāđ āđāļĢื่āļāļāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āđāļ้āđāļ๊āļ°" āđāļĨāļ°āļั่āļāđāļŦāļĨāļ° āļĄัāļāļืāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāđāļĢ้āļŠāļēāļĢāļ°āļั้āļāļŦāļĄāļ āļัāļāļāļģāļĨัāļāļิāļāļēāļĢāļāļēāļāļģāļāļēāļĢāļĨัāļāđāļื่āļāđāļŦ้āđāļ้āđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āļāļĢีāđāļāļĒāđāļĄ่āđāļŦ้āļ āļēāļāļĨัāļāļĐāļ์āļāļēāļāļิāļāļ§ิāļāļāļēāļāļāļāļāļัāļāđāļŠีāļĒāļŦāļēāļĒ
āđāļ่āļāļĢิāļāđ āđāļĨ้āļ§ āļัāļāļāļ§āļĢāđāļ็āļāļāļāļี่āļĢู้āļŠึāļāļัāļāļāļēāļĒāđāļŦāļĄāļี่āļāļĒāļēāļāđāļ้āļāļāļāļี่āļĒัāļāļีāļāļĒู่? āļāļāļี่āļิ้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āđāļĄ่āļāļ§āļĢāđāļ็āļāļāļāļี่āļĢู้āļŠึāļāļāļēāļĒāļŦāļĢืāļ? āđāļĢāļēāļāļĒู่āđāļāđāļĨāļāđāļāļāđāļŦāļāļี่āļāļāļี่āđāļ้āļāļāļāļี่āđāļŦāļĨืāļāļ้āļāļāļัāļāļ§āļĨāđāļĢื่āļāļāļื่āļāđāļŠีāļĒāļ āđāļāļāļāļ°āļี่āļāļāļี่āļิ้āļāļāļāļāļāļĨัāļāđāļĄ่āļ้āļāļāļĢัāļāļิāļāļāļāļ?
āđāļāļāļāļ°āļั้āļāđāļāļ āļัāļāđāļ้āļāļĢāļ°āļŦāļัāļāļāļēāļāļāļĒ่āļēāļ: āļัāļāļŦāļēāđāļĢื่āļāļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āđāļĄ่āđāļ่āđāļĢื่āļāļāļāļāļāļāļēāļŦāļēāļĢāļāļĢิāļāđ āđāļ่āļĄัāļāđāļี่āļĒāļ§āļัāļāļัāļāļāļēāļāļāļāļัāļāđāļāļ āļĄัāļāđāļŠāļāļāđāļŦ้āļัāļāđāļŦ็āļāļ§่āļēāļāļāļี่āļูāđāļŦāļĄืāļāļāļĄีāļิāļāļ§ิāļāļāļēāļāļี่āļŠุāļāļĒัāļāļŠāļēāļĄāļēāļĢāļāļิāļāļāļĒู่āđāļāđāļāļĄāļāļāļāļāļēāļĢāđāļŠāļāļāļ āļēāļāļĨัāļāļĐāļ์āđāļ้ āļĄัāļāđāļ็āļāđāļĢื่āļāļāļāļĨāļāļāļāļāļัāļāļĢāļ§āļēāļĨ āđāļĨāļ°āļัāļāļ็āļืāļāļĄุāļāļāļĨāļāļั้āļ āļัāļāļĢāļ§āļēāļĨāļāļģāļĨัāļāđāļืāļāļāļัāļāļ§่āļē āđāļ่āđāļĨ้āļ§ āļัāļāļ็āđāļ็āļāļĄāļุāļĐāļĒ์āļ้āļ§āļĒ āđāļĄ้āļāļ°āđāļ็āļāļāļĢูāļŠāļāļāļัāļāļāļĢāļ° āļัāļāļĒัāļāļāļāđāļĢีāļĒāļāļĢู้ āļĒัāļāļŠāļ°āļุāļāļĨ้āļĄ āđāļĨāļ°āļĒัāļāļิāļāļāļĒู่āđāļāļัāļāļัāļāļัāļāļāļēāļี่āļัāļāļŠāļāļāđāļŦ้āļāļāļื่āļāļŦāļĨีāļāđāļĨี่āļĒāļ
āđāļĨāļ°āļัāļāļ็āļŦัāļ§āđāļĢāļēāļ° āļัāļāļŦัāļ§āđāļĢāļēāļ°āđāļĒāļēāļ°āļัāļ§āđāļāļ āļŦัāļ§āđāļĢāļēāļ°āļัāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāđāļĢ้āļŠāļēāļĢāļ°āļāļāļāļāļēāļĢāļัāļāļ§āļĨāļ§่āļēāļāļāļื่āļāļāļ°āļĄāļāļāļัāļāļāļĒ่āļēāļāđāļĢāļāļēāļāļāļēāļĢāļิāļāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āļี่āđāļŦāļĨืāļ āļัāļāļŦัāļ§āđāļĢāļēāļ°āļัāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļิāļāļี่āļ§่āļēāļัāļāļāļ°āđāļāļĒāļิāļāļ§่āļēāļุāļāļ่āļēāļāļāļāļัāļāđāļāļāļēāļāļ°āļāļĢูāļูāļāļูāļāđāļ§้āļัāļāļŠิ่āļāļี่āļิāļ§āđāļิāļāđāļ่āļāļั้āļ
āļāļ§āļēāļĄāļāļĢิāļāļืāļ āļāļēāļĢāđāļ็āļāļāļĢูāđāļĄ่āđāļ้āļŦāļĄāļēāļĒāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļ§่āļēāļุāļāļāļ°āđāļĄ่āļĄีāļัāļāļāļēāļีāļāļ่āļāđāļ āđāļ่āļĄัāļāļŦāļĄāļēāļĒāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļ§่āļēāļุāļāļāļ°āđāļ่āļāļึ้āļāđāļāļāļēāļĢāļŠัāļāđāļāļāđāļĄื่āļāļัāļāļāļēāļāļģāļĨัāļāđāļĨ่āļāļāļĨāļāļัāļāļุāļ āļāļēāļĢāļĢู้āđāļ้āļāļี่āđāļ้āļāļĢิāļāļืāļāļāļēāļĢāļŦัāļ§āđāļĢāļēāļ°āđāļĒāļēāļ°āļัāļ§āđāļāļāđāļĄื่āļāļุāļāđāļŦ็āļāļĄัāļāđāļิāļāļึ้āļ—āđāļĨ้āļ§āļāļĨ่āļāļĒāļĄัāļāđāļ
āđāļ้āļēāļ§ัāļāļĢุ่āļāļึ้āļ āļัāļāđāļāļŦāļēāđāļĄ่āļ้āļēāļāļĨāđāļĄ้āļ้āļ§āļĒāļĢāļāļĒāļĒิ้āļĄāļāļāđāļāļŦāļ้āļē "āļัāļāļāļāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āļี่āđāļŦāļĨืāļāļāļēāļāļĨูāļāļ้āļēāļี่āļุāļāļāļēāļĒāđāļ้āđāļŦāļĄ?" āļัāļāļāļēāļĄāđāļāļ "āđāļĨāļ°āļุāļāđāļĄ่āļ้āļāļāđāļ็āļāđāļ็āļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāļĨัāļāļ็āđāļ้āļāļ° āļัāļāļāļēāļāļāļ°āļāļāļāļāļāļื่āļāļ้āļ§āļĒāļ้āļģ"
āđāļāļĢāļēāļ°āļāļ§āļēāļĄāļāļĢิāļāļืāļ āļāļēāļĢāđāļ็āļāļāļĢูāļŠāļāļāļัāļāļāļĢāļ°āđāļĄ่āđāļ้āļŦāļĄāļēāļĒāļึāļāļāļēāļĢāđāļ็āļāļāļāļŠāļĄāļูāļĢāļ์āđāļāļāļŦāļĢืāļāļĢัāļāļĐāļēāļ āļēāļāļĨัāļāļĐāļ์āļāļāļāļู้āļĢู้āđāļ้āļ āđāļ่āļĄัāļāļืāļāļāļēāļĢāđāļ็āļāļāļāļāļĢิāļ āđāļ็āļāļĄāļุāļĐāļĒ์ āđāļĨāļ°āđāļ่ āđāļĄ้āđāļ่āļāļēāļĢāļิāļāđāļื้āļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§āļี่āđāļŦāļĨืāļāļ้āļēāļั่āļāļืāļāļŠิ่āļāļี่āļĢู้āļŠึāļāļ§่āļēāļูāļāļ้āļāļ āļ้āļēāļāļāđāļĨิāļāļĄāļēāļāļāļĢ์āļŠāļāļāļāļัāļāđāļāļĢāļēāļ°āđāļĢื่āļāļāļี้ āļ็āļāļēāļāđāļ็āļāđāļāļĢāļēāļ°āļāļ§āļāđāļāļēāļĒัāļāđāļĄ่āļāļĢ้āļāļĄāļŠāļģāļŦāļĢัāļāļāļēāļĢāđāļĢีāļĒāļāļĢู้āļี่āđāļ้āļāļĢิāļ
āļāļāđāļĢีāļĒāļāļืāļāļāļ°āđāļĢ? āļāļĒ่āļēāđāļŦ้āļัāļāļāļēāļāļģāļŦāļāļāļีāļ§ิāļāļāļāļāļุāļ—āđāļĄ้āđāļ่āđāļāđāļĢื่āļāļāđāļĨ็āļāđ āļāļĒ่āļēāļāļĄāļ°āļāļĢ้āļēāļ§ āđāļĨāļ°āļี่āļŠāļģāļัāļāļĒิ่āļāļāļ§่āļēāļั้āļ āļāļĒ่āļēāļāļĢิāļāļัāļāļัāļāļัāļ§āđāļāļāļĄāļēāļāđāļิāļāđāļ āđāļĢāļēāļุāļāļāļāļืāļāļĻิāļĐāļĒ์āđāļāļีāļ§ิāļ āļāļĢูāđāļĨāļ°āļู้āđāļĢีāļĒāļ āļ่āļēāļāļ็āđāļ้āļĢัāļāļāļēāļĢāļ่āļāļĄāļāļāļ้āļ§āļĒāļĄุāļāļāļĨāļāļāļāļāļัāļāļĢāļ§āļēāļĨāļี่āļĢāļāđāļĢāļēāļāļĒู่
Aho!
Serenity, āđāļāļēāļ°āļāļ°āļัāļ, āļāļĢāļ°āđāļāļĻāđāļāļĒ
21.10.2024
Michal Kali Griks
http://tantramovement.com
Freedom and Love: Commitment vs. Attachment
Imagine you're starting a new job. You're excited, passionate, and see long-term potential in the role. However, you're only given a temporary contract that might or might not be renewed after a year. How deeply can you commit to this job knowing it could be taken away? How can you pour your heart into it with the constant worry that the rug might be pulled out from under you?
When you don't have the freedom to truly commit, it's difficult to invest yourself fully.
The same concept applies to life, love, and relationships. True freedom allows us to commit fully without fear that what we've built will be taken from us. If you have big dreams—whether in work, love, or life—trust me, as someone who has spent 20 years as a squatter, community builder, and dreamer, you'll appreciate the freedom to fully commit.
Freedom to commit gives you the opportunity to build the dreams you want, without fear they'll crumble beneath you. It's not about being attached—it's about knowing you're free to create, love, and commit fully. In relationships, this is especially true. When you're truly in love, you want the freedom to build a future together, even if that means giving up your home, your dreams, and starting again, somewhere new—together.
It doesn't mean you're attached to a place or a situation. It means you're committed to love and connection, ready to follow your heart, not your property. That's what real love is: the freedom to let go of what you have to build something greater together.
Real freedom in love gives you the chance to commit, not just for 30 years, but for life. And if, after 20 years, things change—because our minds, hearts, and bodies are always growing and evolving—that's okay.
Commitment doesn't mean attachment. It means having serious plans and knowing that, unless something truly important comes along, you're in it for the long haul. Nothing better could happen than growing old together, in love.
Jumping from partner to partner, relationship to relationship takes away the chance for deep connection and growth. The clock is ticking, and with every false start, you could be wasting time. So while it's important to find the right partner, don't take too long—yet don't rush into it either. Some relationships may exist just to heal old wounds and prepare you for the "right one."
Forget waiting for the prince on the white horse or the princess in the tower. They may not exist in the real world. Get real.
Being alone, despite what some "nowadays bullshit spirituality" or "therapy" might tell you, isn't the key to happiness. Isolation for too long isn't healthy for your soul. We need connections to grow. Grief and healing take time, but not forever. I would say integration time, griefing, should be not longer than few months - but who am I to decide - you have to feel for yourself. It's you, who have to feel when you're ready to open your heart again.
That's why being in a committed, tantric relationship is one of the most revolutionary, spiritual growth paths you can choose. It brings freedom, love, and happiness. Choose connection, not separation.
Whether in relationships, community (a real one, not an online illusion), or family—commitment allows you to dig deeper, to heal old wounds, to grow. The deeper the commitment, the greater the opportunity for freedom.
Let's twist that this way this time.
20.10.24
|
|
|
|
|