I left Romania 2 years ago, thinking that my story with journalism was over. I left awfully disappointed, after 15 years of journalism in a country too beautiful, too poor and much too corrupted, when I realized that long time from now on things there won’t change deeply, profoundly, will not go in a good, decent direction. And that I wanted something else.
I carried a huge, heavy luggage on my soul. It took me 2 years to throw all those emotional stones away, one by one.
I simply rebuilt myself in the past 2 years. I was lucky to afford this “luxury” – to take two years for me and my dears, for whom I never had, while working as a journalist in Romania, the time they truly deserved. I’ve read a lot the past 2 years, I’ve travelled, prayed, relaxed, meditated, learnt to forgive and to forget, spent good, quality time with the people I love. I arranged a new house and learnt a new sistem. I discovered a whole new society, made new friends. I practically changed my whole life, from diet to people around me, keeping the good ones, things, habbits, persons, throwing away what was bad. It was like a reborn, I could say.
I love writing since I was a child. I was the kind of girl who was writing poems, diaries, the love letters for half of her friends I’ve never imagined my life without writing. Journalism was a dream came true. But I left so hurt, so disappointed and so sick of everything that I thougt I would never do this again.
“You are ment to write, you have talent and a huge soul for that” kept on telling me my best friend, and I said no, of course, and she smilled. She just kept on reminding this to me from time to time. Then she bought me a hand painted agenda, telling me that I will surely know what to do with it. And smilled again.
I know exactly the moment when I knew she was right. I remember the feeling, the joy, the rainbow in the sky, the old icon, kept from my grand-grand mother, the tears of happiness in my eyes. I simply knew that I was ok, rebuilt, good with myself, happy and unpatient to start over. That I forgave and I forgot. That all the bad was way behind.
That I was ready. And that I can start building my dream. To write not about accidents and mafia and politicians and fires and other and other “small talks” that take too much of our daily lives and give us too many bad feelings (I’ve done this for so many years), but to write about good people, simple, usual people, who had done something with their lives and really have something to say. People who had followed their dreams, built them piece by piece, worked for them, believed in their star, in their luck. Inspirational people. Motivational people.
And about magical places, famous or not, but felt, seen not only with eyes but also with heart.
In this crazy times, societies, lives, with so many tragedies, nonews, fakenews, way too much stress for everything, I think we really need good things and good examples. Special people. Happy people. The kind of stories that put a huge smile on your face and a good, healthy silence in your heart.
Lucian, my first story, is a wonderful example. An amazing story about what a person can do with ambition, positive thinking, faith and hard work. How a lifetime dream can come true. Many more will come.
It’s been hard when I left and somehow I’ve had the feeling of an end of a world. And actually that was. But God always helps you close the wrong door just to be able to open the right one and be happy with what you find beyond it.
Don’t be afraid of new starts! Don’t live unhappy just because you have no courage to get out of your comfort zone! Don’t think about what others would say or think, you are the only one living your life, no one else does that! Just start, restart, rebuild, do whatever makes you happy! And if one of more stories you find here will inspire you in one way or another, I will be happy and grateful.
Welcome to my special world!