Once upon a time and other illusions...

Once upon a time, in the country of Croatia (formerly known as Yugoslavia), there was a girl… But before that, she was just a pain in… her mother’s womb.

Yes, you are right – it was me! (Oh boy, how I love talking  about me, I wonder if anyone really reads bios… hm… if you really finish the reading of this one, write a note bellow, I might sent you something fun.)

I was very unique and special… for the first 18 minutes of my life. Then, my twin sister popped out. There goes my thron…

My confidence level was amazing. I knew what I wanted and I wanted it NOW.  That’s how impatient… Oops… I mean confident I was. If I wanted to eat, I would cry from the bottom of my lungs, until I was fed the food of my choice – every other food was elegantly spit out. If I wanted to sleep, I would cry until my sister woke up, so my mom would hold us both and sing a lullaby. (Needless to say, she experienced the full joy of parenting.)

I even had a sense of fashion – just brand new clean diapers please!- or simply, no clothes at all.  I was comfortable with my self image and I enjoyed everything about myself; my baby cellulite, my natural color hair, and even a booger in my nose. I lived Delicious!

(Isn’t it amazing how confident we are as children? Confident. Present. Careless. Joyful.)

Gosh, was I self-assured. And I was famous. Everyone knew me in my family. My brother, Robert, could never decide between Helena, Jelena, and his toys… so he just squeezed us all.

Before I was 1 year old, I was composing 2-3 word sentences. It was usually a combination of “blah” and “blah.”  Sometimes, there were even words of wisdom, but no one understand them. (Things haven’t changed much since).

I was fascinated with life, animals, insects, and fruits. “Long-armed” was my nick name. I just wanted to know, reach and touch everything, all of the time. I always had a question, which, if asked in public, would embarrass my mom. I would approach men who had a beard or moustache and ask if they were real or just “movie fake.” When they would respond, “It’s real,” I would test it by pulling on them, without asking for permission. My mom was so sweet. She would feel guilty for that instead of me. Oh what a wonderful time!

Not only was she kind, she was also smart. Being a mathematics and physics teacher, we all “grew up with Einstein.” To get permission to chew gum at home, we had to know the physics law that explained that possibility. Oh well, I never chew gum at home.

I would paint the walls, unroll toilet paper around the house and then pretend that I was just an Angel. My mom knew better, otherwise, she would have named me Heaven-a instead of Hell-ena.

Yes, I enjoyed playing, being creative, writing short poems or silly rhymes, performing and reciting my tunes; I was always filled with ideas, music, and Deliciousness!

But, besides learning these fun things – I also learned that life is not always just fun… My father was not exactly qualified to receive a Gold medal in loving parenting… not even qualified for the title of “father”… and I thought that it is me who was wrong. I was convinced that I was a bad girl (which I was, at times :- ) and that he behaved the way he did to punish me. No matter how hard I tried to be “good,” I was never good enough. I was scared, fearful and the worst of all – I had to be quiet! It was great, though, when he wasn’t at home. Boy, did we enjoy that time.

To add a cherry on the top – I was chosen by my classmates to be the class President. That was the beginning of the end for me. Endless bullying and harassment. (I made a video about it for “It gets better campaign:

I became coward, closed off and frightened. My wonderful self-image turned into self judgment. Before I was 11, the shiny, bright, Delicious Helena was a history.

Sounds familiar?

Finally, at my lucky age of 13, my parents got divorced. We moved and everything got a little better, at least at home. I regained curiosity, became more optimistic and active again – roller skating on the streets, acting in a local theatre, falling in love, writing poems, active on a local radio show, training athletics, and being goofy… externally.

But inside, sadness and confusion. Internally, I had a question – an important question that I wanted to have the answer to the meaning of life, why are we born and other inappropriate topics for a teenager. (Gosh, Helena, go back to dreams of marring Vanilla Ice and chill out, ok?)

I would ask people on the streets. I thought that since older people lived life for so long, then certainly, they must know the answer. Most of them thought that the meaning of life was to have children or to go to church.

I was a child. According to that theory, my father who had 3 children, had 3 meanings that he abused? No! It didn’t make sense.

So, I thought that God must be the meaning. I started going to church daily and finally said to my mom that I would soon become a nun. She simply replied, “You? You can’t. You talk too much!”

That felt like a rejection from God himself. I was again all alone, afraid and scared, without any meaning for my young life. My fear just got stronger and deeper as the pre-war tension in the Country grew. I could smell the death in the air. War was just about to start. I got to the point of being so scared; I didn’t want to leave the house.

My mom took me to a Mr. Shrink. “Teen Anxiety,” he said quickly, as he diagnosed me just by talking with my mom. “Take this yellow pill for smiling, white one for stress and the big one for fear.” He didn’t tell me that it would make me sleep 16 hours a day, or that my skin would dry out, become very itchy, and my smile would be very dull. Because of those side effects – I was half scared – half zombie.

Then my brother gave me a strange book about Yoga, Meditation and Self realization. Wow! That was just what I needed. I started reading right away and practicing meditation. I started throwing my pills in the toilet and began feeling better, calmer and more grounded. What a feeling!

At the same time, war started, I was not even 16. Great! What else do I have to go through? There was a knock at the door and the solider gave us 20 minutes to pack all the we need, to take with us. To leave the rest as if we will never see it again. 1 plastic bag per person.

What would you do, if you have 20 minutes to put your entire life in 1 plastic bag?

If only I would have had the knowledge of EFT, it would have made a HUGE difference in our lives and helped relieve a variety of problems that war had created – anxieties, fears, grief, loss, anger, terror, PTSD. EFT is so effective; it would have been a magic wand inthe midst of that anxious time.

So, my twin sister and I were separated. My Brother was sent to the front line. My Grandmother’s house was bombed, and my best friend, Tihana, died. I became refugee in my own country. That was really ugly. So, I ran away from the refugee camp and became a nun. I lived with the vow of poverty, celibacy and simplicity for 7 years.  (Yes. I was a nun and I am not religious anymore. Spiritual I am. It is very intimate and valuable to me, so please do not ask. If we recognize each other, we don’t need to talk about it, we will feel it. If we don’t recognize each other, no words will make meaning happen. Thanks for respecting that.)

At the age of 15, I didn’t know that my father, school boys, “rejection by God,” and war were my biggest blessings in disguise. They helped me develop a real understanding for other’s pain, true compassion, persistence, and deeper trust that only good will come from it all.

I’ve read numerous books, as if they were a Delicious meal. I taught myself English by reading books, learned about the power of the human mind and the difference between focus and sharp focus.  I learned about our real ego, our false ego, the nature of the body, mind, and soul… My meditation was deep and long (2 hrs daily), my habits clean.  (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, it sounded boring to most teenagers, but I loved it. It was exactly what I needed at that time and space. Drugs? None. Alcohol? None. Boys? None. Party? None. Bikinis? None. Yup. I was a nun)

I was “knowledge hungry” and wanted to get as much information as possible – as a missionary; I traveled Europe and learned German. I learned about different people and the fact that they all have different needs, and developed a strong desire to see more of Asia.  There was a deep connection that was Delicious to my soul. I was hungry for more.

My friend went to Japan and so did I. Tokyo will always keep a very special part of my heart, because, while living there, in 2001 I discovered EFT, and my life had changed again. Gosh, I love changes! (Unless I have to change someone’s diapers.)

Personal transformation in Tokyo is the reason Why I Liv Delicious™. I used EFT for my chronic phobia of speaking English with Native English speakers. I tapped and tapped and never fainted again! Overcoming this fear opened all the doors for me – The whole world! I traveled 19 world countries and read over 150 books – in English!

Are you still reading? Gosh, you have lots of free time. Are you trying to get some facts about my personal life?

That is flattering.  Knowing me, however, will not really help you much. Get curious about yourself instead.  Learn about what enriches your life. Learn about what you want out of yourself. Learn about what you stand for and what you love. Learn about the words that make YOUR heart sing and sing it to your heart!

If you don’t know about you, then here are few simple tips.

First – subscribe to this blog and get 108 Cheeky things e-book. Go and do them all. (one thing a day, one thing a month… just don’t do one thing a year, because you’ll probably run out of time)

Second – choose a post that calls unto you and start a comment treat, share your view and ask questions. It feels so good to speak up! We want to hear you (JUST DON’T YELL LIKE THIS WITH ALL CAPITALS … please:-)

Third – Feel welcomed and join our FaceBook page

Fourth – devour in some chocolate! (Yeah, even if you skip first 3 tips)

Ok, nough about me!

Oh no, just one more thing – I Liv Delicious.  I do. Every day.  I find something wonderful or beautiful daily. But, I do NOT Liv Delicious all the time! Heck no! I Liv Delicious 80% of the time. The other 20% is your fault!

And THAT is the beauty of the full life. Facing the reality and living it. Admitting it. Sharing it. Being it. Loving it.

I love you.

Now it’s really enough about me. Tell me about YOU. Tell me your story and your Deliciousness.

 

 

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