Katarína Varsiková

Autor -Katarina Varsikova

Kairos Plus Ultra

Finistere – koniec zeme. Mysleli si cestovatelia a dobyvatelia, keď doputovali na breh mora a ďalej nedovideli. Nazvali tak miesto, kde zastali, avšak napokon sa ukázalo, že na opačnom brehu mora sa rozprestiera ďalšia zem. Bolo to aj varovanie, Ďalej radšej nechoď. Nič dokonalejšie neobjavíš. A tak z Non Plus Ultra sa stalo Plus Ultra. Toto je všetko sa zmenilo na čokoľvek ďalšie je možné.

Metaforu použil kňaz pri pohrebe na ilustráciu mystéria smrti, bázne z neznámeho. Možno myseľ presviedča, že je to Non Plus Ultra, a pritom len nevie o tom, čo sa rozprestiera na druhom brehu.

Bratia Chronos a Kairos

Kairos sa neriadi hodinkami ako jeho brat Chronos. Je tu hypotéza, že priemyslová revolúcia vyniesla do popredia kult Chrona – sledovanie lineárneho času, presných príchodov, plánov do budúcnosti. Slúžili rozmachu a zisku. Ľuďom je pritom prirodzené aj nechať sa viesť Kairom, vnímať prítomný okamih, cykly, nechať sa zlákať momentálnou inšpiráciou. Tak toto teda od robotníkov nikto nepotreboval – mali si poriadne natiahnuť hodinky a na desať, dvanásť hodín fungovať v kolese, aby v deň vyznačený v kalendári dostali peňažnú odmenu a mohli rodine kúpiť jedlo. Vznešené poslanie. Zároveň, v tomto rytme chýba spontánne, tvorivé, pre ktoré je zrazu vyhradený len úzky priestor. Lebo treba spať, jesť, pracovať. Ak spánok príde ľahko, je to bonus, spôsob, akým sa prepraviť do bájnej krajiny svojich snov. Dedko Chronos dominuje stále, ani dnes sa od nás neočakáva, že vypočujeme volanie vhodného okamihu a zdvihneme sa od obrazovky z plateného miesta, rozprestrieme krídla ako Kairos, a vydáme sa za hlasom srdca.

Kairos sa vracia

Zároveň, Kairos, syn boha Dia, sa ukazuje stále častejšie Jeho punk štýl a prirodzená vzletnosť, mladícka odvaha a provokácia. Lebo žiť len podľa dedka Chrona vyčerpáva, a zamestnávatelia nechcú vyčerpaných zamestnancov, tí sú im na nič. A dnes už nejde, aspoň v tejto časti sveta, tak jednoducho vymeniť opotrebovaný kus za iný. Hoci nemám ilúziu, keby sa to mohlo, tak by to sa to robilo. Zákony, zmluvy tomu do istej miery zabraňujú. Ak sa v nich nájde škára, tak šup tam prepašovať svoj záujem. Mám s tým skúsenosť. Chronos sa mračí, je to starec, drží dôležité insígnie. Je Boh. Ale to je aj Kairos, večne mladý, lebo mladosť nie je (len) počet rokov vymeraných dedkom Chronom, je to aj dôvera a odvaha ísť za neznámym, nejasným volaním, zabudnúť na hodinky a ponoriť sa do aktivity, ktorá sýti dušu. Príležitosť ukrytá v prítomnom okamihu, to je Kairos. A že je všetko zároveň neisté, bez kontúr, bez jasného cieľa? Aj to je aspekt a kvalita Kaira. Hovorí, Neboj sa, ponor sa, poď. Ani ja sám neviem, čo z toho vzíde, ale jedno ti sľubujem, bude to vášnivé dobrodružstvo. A dobrodružstvo a vášeň predsa omladzujú, vzpružujú a rozjasňujú.

Tak do toho, Kairos stojí pri tebe, usmieva sa, máva krídlami, láka neposlušnou šticou:

Esej holandskej autorky: https://www.tzum.info/2014/04/recensie-joke-j-hermsen-kairos-een-nieuwe-bevlogenheid/

A keďže Kairos nepozná hodinky a iný čas ako teraz, aj tento blog stojí za prečítanie. Zámok Gaasbeek nedávno znovu otvorili po rekonštrukcii. Návšteva doteraz nikdy nesklamala, stojí to za. Čo by kameňom dohodil od Bruselu:

Kairos Plus Ultra: The Time Beyond Time

Finisterre — The End of the World

Finisterre means „the end of the world.“ That’s what early travelers believed when they reached the edge of the sea and could see no land beyond. They named the place where they stopped.

It was a boundary. A warning:
Go no further. There is nothing more perfect to discover.

But in time, they learned — on the other side of the sea, more land stretched out.
Non Plus Ultra — “nothing further beyond” — gave way to Plus Ultra — “more beyond.”
What once meant this is all transformed into:
Anything more is possible.

A priest used this metaphor at a funeral to illustrate the mystery of death — the awe we feel before the unknown. Maybe it’s just our mind insisting this is the end, when in truth, we simply don’t yet know what lies across the waters.

Chronos and Kairos

In Greek mythology, Chronos and Kairos are brothers.
Chronos is the god of linear, measurable time — the ticking clock, the appointment, the plan.
Kairos is the god of divine timing — the right moment, the soulful instant, the window that opens without warning.

Since the Industrial Revolution, society has worshipped Chronos. We live by schedules, punctuality, deadlines, and forecasts. This culture of precision has fueled progress and profit.

But something essential got left behind.

Humans aren’t machines. We also long to follow Kairos — to tune into the present moment, to move with cycles, to be surprised by inspiration.

No one expected this from factory workers. They were told to wind their watches tightly and run like cogs in a system — ten, twelve hours a day — to earn a wage, feed their families, and keep the machine turning. A noble mission, perhaps. But within that rhythm, something spontaneous and sacred was lost.

Sleep, food, work — repeat. If sleep came easily, that was a bonus: a bridge to the mythical land of dreams.
But the days belonged to Grandfather Chronos.

Kairos Returns

Even now, we’re not encouraged to heed the whisper of the present moment — to close the laptop, step away from the screen, and follow the tug in our chest.
But Kairos is returning.

He’s bold. Winged. Punk. Youthful. A bit provocative.
He shows up more and more — in a generation weary of burnout, of schedules stacked to the ceiling, of always being “productive.”

Living by Chronos alone is exhausting. And here’s the irony: employers don’t want exhausted workers either. They’re not effective. And in today’s world, at least in this part of it, it’s no longer so easy to replace a burnt-out cog with a fresh one.

If loopholes exist, some will still try to slip through — I know this from experience.
Chronos frowns, clutching his scepter. He’s a god.
But so is Kairos — eternally young, because youth is not just a number. It’s trust and courage to follow something vague and beautiful.

To ignore the clock.
To dive into an activity that feeds the soul.

The Present as Possibility

Kairos is the opportunity hidden in the present.
Yes — uncertain. Unmapped. Without clear contours or guarantees.

But that’s part of his magic.
He whispers:

Don’t be afraid. Dive in. Come. Even I don’t know where this will lead — but I promise, it will be a passionate adventure.

And passion, adventure — these are what awaken us. They rejuvenate, refresh, illuminate.

So go on.
Kairos is here. Not in your calendar, but in this moment — the one you’re in right now.

For Further Inspiration

Kriya Yoga in June

Photo: The view from the yoga room

This is the world of duality, and yoga practice is not exempt to it. To assess how many people fit into the room at Av. Moliere we are obeying the laws of physics. It is midnight when 11 yoga mats are set and ready for the next day. On a long dining table lies a humble book of Patanjali’s yoga sutras. Written in Sanskrit thousands of years ago, it has been translated and commented by many throughout the ages. Patanjali did not use verbs, which opens possibilities of endless interpretations. Yoga, yogi, yoking, powers, obstacles, illumination, steadiness, falling and beginning again.

How come thousands of years ago some individuals knew about the potential dormant in every being, about consciousness permeating the physical reality?

Who has sent us here to this valley of laughter and tears?

Patanjali does not say, though the sutras clearly define 3 components of kriya yoga (book II) :

Tapas, Svadhyaya, Ishvara Pranidana.

Meaning?

Tapas is the fire or practice that purifies, svadhyaya is self-study and ishvara pranidana is devotion. Patanjali does not say anything about different asanas as we practice them nowadays. The word asana simply means to sit and refers more to the stillness of meditation than to complicated sequences of postures. But the postures are here, in endless variations and ready to be applied, they represent a portal of awareness. Is it hurting? Is it boring? Is it sweet and liberating or full of pain? Observation in practice leads to self-study and through witnessing the ego strategies we glimpse into other parts of the being.

Summer breeze sways the June leaves of the trees in the garden and cools down our sweat. In heat the purification happens, space for new is open. When lying down, tuning to the gentle buzz of tissues, the heartbeat, the humming of the mind, we are closer again to knowing there is more than the 5 senses suggest. Peeling endless onion, walking the road to freedom that is never done and still?

Most of what we do, our motivations, spurs, pulsations, come from the realm of unconscious, they are driven by seeds of fear and pain, says Patanjali. Sanskaras, seeds, or memory of past pain, can be plucked out. Not all of them at once, have patience.

Fire purifies.

This year around the summer solstice, we opt for essential asanas and build them progressively, conscious of each fibre and every motion. Because it is all about movement, in this world of physical laws, everything is in constant flux. The stillness coming with the practice makes us much more aware of subtler and finer vibrations.

Sitting in a comfortable chair in another room dedicated to therapy practice, I look at the flipchart explaining in a simple graphic different parts of our beings. At the very centre is the Self, the joyous, boundless and free essence that we are. All other parts are guardians that want and try to protect the Self. The manager, the fire-fighter, the exiled sufferer. Oh, my, are they not tired often? Of course, they are.

Put down the arms and weapons, a soft voice whispers.

But, but, but who will then protect the Self?

You are tired, guys, your endeavour anyway is futile, drop resistance and acknowledge vulnerability which is the strength.

This is a huge step, just allowing to admit unconscious patterns that have been running on autopilot for ages.

What happens then?

The observer is activated and gently unmasks pulsations. Svadhya becomes a part of the practice. I start to know my guardians, they are not enemies. Their intentions always have been pure. I am innocent and boundless.

What about the third part of kriya yoga? Devotion? To what and whom?

Patanjali does not say. In still moments, though, I feel the void is not empty, I sense I am not alone, I glimpse into interconnected nature of all and everything. With commitment and love, ignorance is dissolved into the divine, the yoga text assures.

But we are part of this duality, and it often hurts and often life gets opaque and confusing?

Yes, it is so. Back to tapa, practice. Unroll the mat and sit on the cushion. In yoking unity happens.

Do not run away from this life, whispers Patanjali into my ear. When embracing people who just got up from their mats, I feel heart to heart connection and I know I am safe. The taste of a strawberry, the gust of wind, the warmth of the sun, the beam of a smile, the smell of an essential oil, and it all begins in a wonderful company under a roof of welcome.

Don´t pay the ferryman… before he takes you to the other side

The title is a reference to a classic song. The photo courtesy to one of the weekend participants. 🙂

Waulsort. Waha. Ohain. Some of the toponyms in Wallonia sound so ancient and soft as if they came from a fantasy book by Ursula LeGuin. Waulsort is a tiny town on the left bank of the river Meuse with gorgeous villas, a tiny St. Michel’s Church, narrow stone streets and traces of the old railroad to Dinant. The opposite riverbank is steeper, cliffs and vertical rocks creating a little paradise for climbers. Parts of the hill are covered in lush woods hiding streams and trails. A bit further downstream, also on the left, is the castle Freyr worth visiting (virtual visit in the link below the article). Among other things, it shows the long history of human lust to fight, get a share, show off, present, have fun, etc. All are divers masks of a universal human need for security.

We have been coming to a house on the hill for yoga weekends since before the pandemic hit. Twice a year, in different seasons. This beginning of May welcome us in rich green tones, it is warm, in the morning, the sun pops up from behind the trees and spreads a golden hue over the roofs of the houses. A sleeve of river glistens down there, a manually operated ferry gets you across when you wish. One man has been doing the job for 11 years already; the ferry itself being in service for well more than a hundred years. The man is calm, fit, with golden hair and patiently responding to questions of curious tourists that must repeat on and on. Nevermind. He responds with in the same polite and modest tone.

Experiencing yoga in a non-rushed way. The clock on the wall always shows 30 past 10. Now. We are multilayered and complex beings, and we need a lot of patience with – ourselves. Carer, giver, teacher, lover, mother, daughter, coach, artist… the list can go on. Are these identities? Yes. And we need them to navigate the time/space reality. What is thus beyond these identities? What about those parts of us we do not dare to talk about? They keep us in silence like they had locked war and war camp survivors in the previous generations. Copying strategies, vital to survive.

Finding us in the trauma-informed era is good news. We are allowed to feel, peel off the masks, be vulnerable. This very idea often scares, brings out emotions that have stayed hidden for long, long time. Discovering the Self beyond various identities is an alchemist process of de-fragmentation and eventually, a transformation. The process itself counts; the final “product” does not exist. We are evolving, changing, co-creating and discovering ourselves.

The alchemist process has different stages, some are more active, some require fermentation and a period of seeming non-movement. There comes the magic point when a butterfly emerges from the syrupy form of a chrysalis. Delicate, wet, usure. Nothing can be rushed, yoga says. Patience. Move, breathe, observe. All parts and fragments are welcome and included. When we surrender and accept, love appears in the room. Pardoning myself for falling off the wagon here and there opens the door to compassion, joy, vulnerability and strength.

When we slowly get up from the mat, lighter with the practice, the changing light in the house is filled with new energy. Call it love, or call it potential, words are never enough to describe the experience. But then, we may listen to the words as pure vibrations and dive into deeper understanding. As we dived into the cold water of the Meuse. Water is alive, precious, a good deal of us is water, and as such, charged with information in constant move. This is the quiet language of yoga: it leads us to the elements within and beyond them – to pure potential that we are.

Thank you to all joining me in trust and cocreating the experience.

https://freyr.be/en

https://www.waulsort.org

When the bees sting

photo Danube beach in the area of Devin

Bratislava. Several encounters with old friends I have not seen for decades; exchanging life stories.

I probably won’t surprise you saying it is a lot of juicy-story material: separations, love affairs that did not last, kids growing with special needs and not coping with the system so well, ancient family ties including sorrows and pains that pass generations and colour relationships in surprising ways. I am not going to give away the stories of others here, no need to add any karma to that which is already woven in the fabric of the time-space reality.

There is something outstanding that I would like to refer to: These individuals have not turned the pain lived into a suffering identity. And this is not to be taken for granted. It is a huge thing. Tragedy ego can be a very strong. Neither did they supress/deny their experience. They have learnt to accept it. They have transformed it into something new – a gratitude being the prevailing vibration. Yes, it is simple and not easy, as we know. It requires? What does it require anyway? Rituals, everyday decisions and willingness to find pleasure in purely being, breathing, walking, singing, reading… The list goes on.

I am delighted to be in their presence, ready to savour the joy of sharing and recognising myself in their eyes. Very Pink Floyd mood. Have found my tribe. Not just them, there are also souls that have appeared on the path rather recently, opening their hearts, sharing their gifts (and homes, thank you, guys, I have been a house guest in various places and towns, cat and flat sitting, changing places and learning to live light thanks to you). I recognise your hospitality and generosity and I am grateful.

Yes, abundance is being open to give and receive, to recognise life as a gift and to let go… let go the identity of suffering, too. Every day. Every moment.

Have I fully embraced my shadow? I would not dare to claim anything like that. I do not think the job is ever done. Vibrations are still full scale, sometimes I fall very low into doubts, anxieties (financial and relational and other), then go back to the rituals, meditation, yoga mat, barefoot walks, diving into waters, practicing gratitude for: All. Equanimity, babe.

When I had first read L. Hay’ s Love your Life beginning 2000’s, my mantra was: I am dropping fears, I won’t be afraid no more. Naïve. We are humans. Fear is deeply imbedded in our biology. It is our survival instinct. Louise Hay has given humanity a huge gift of sharing her story of transformation. There are no shortcuts, experiencing full scale of emotions is what makes us evolve.

Raise the roof beam high, carpenters, is the title of Salinger’ s late story? Raise vibration is a good motto. Recognise, when it drops, and raise it through whatever works for you.

One story of one old friend to conclude here with:

I was working with bees for a decade. I never dressed in protective garment, always went to them dressed normally. They never stung me. Apart from once – Once I went to do some work around the hives when I was in a poor mental state. Confused, after a fight with my partner, after angrily gulping a few glasses of wine, after seeing my daughter in distress. Then, as I was sitting at a wooden table around the hives, two bees landed on my head and let their stings and lives in me. I had a nasty reaction, was brought to the hospital swollen. Yes, they passed their message clear.

Nothing wrong in dropping into low vibrations. We are humans. Anger masks fear and emotions show us the way. Instead of being vibrational snobs, instead of chasing ‘positive’ (which is naïve, because there is nothing exempt to duality, better embrace it), we can bring awareness into every present moment. Awareness is the gift we have been granted. It is the cage door wide open. It is the free will and choice.

Soľná a škoricová

„Čo ak sa ten strop preborí, a zomrieme?“ Pomyslí si, polohovateľné sedadlo vo vodorovnej polohe, a vzápätí si povie, „Veď som tu s K, tak no a čo? Zomrieme spolu.“

Strop je zo sadry a pripomína kvaple, všetko ostatné v jaskyni je zo soli. Himalájskej, poľskej, z Mŕtveho mora. Kryštalickej, sypkej, svetlosivej, ružovej a bielej. Zem je vysypaná soľou, voda steká po soľných hrudkách. Hračky pre deti, čo sem chodia inhalovať, sú obalené soľou a vyzerajú ako vianočné darčeky zabudnuté za polárnym kruhom. Privíta nás pani neurčitého veku s dobrými vlasmi (kvapka rozmarínu po umytí, dozvedeli sme sa  neskôr). Dýchame zhlboka, na perách cítim po chvíľke slané kryštály. Vyzlečiem sa do tielka, nech tú soľ dýcha aj koža. Sem by mal zavítať kráľ z rozprávky soľ nad zlato v okamihu totálnej deprivácie. Všemožné účinky soli na zdravie si nájdete ľahko. Podľa Richarda Rudda (autor systému génových kľúčov, Gene Keys) je soľ to médium, ktoré rozpúšťa, a jedného dňa rozpustí ľudské ťažoby. Možno preto po náročnom dni a v strese siahame po lupienkoch a slaných orieškoch.

Trochu sa v jaskyni rozprávame, o číslach – tá pani je čistá trojka, to zatiaľ nevieme. Hovorím o tom, že chcem rozumieť mužom. (Keď nastupujem do autobusu, vždy sa pozriem na šoféra, jeho predlaktia formované otáčaním veľkého volantu, a pozdravím sa. V Belgicku sa to robí – Bonjour. Občas sa šofér ukáže byť šoférka, rodové stereotypy padajú.)

Veľkú časť pobytu v jaskyni mlčky ležíme, a zhlboka dýchame. Je tu príjemná teplota, pri ktorej sa dá byť v tričku aj pulóvri, a atmosféra jaskyne, kde možno zostúpiť do hlbín seba a je to dobrovoľné a pokojné. (Nie ako voľný pád do králičej nory).

Vyhradený čas je rýchlo preč, pani nás príde zavolať. V uvítacej miestnosti si dáme pohár vody, obzrieme a dokúpime niečo z doplnkového sortimentu: voňavé oleje, doplnky výživy, sviečky. Klasika. Pani nám chce predať niečo na neduhy, naučená na klientelu, čo si sem chodí liečiť rôzne ťažkosti. Chcem si vybrať podľa intuície, vône. Napokon je to citrónový olej a tinktúra z kotvičníka.

„Čistá trojka (už to vieme) ti predá hocičo, hocičo ti šplechne, či chceš, či nechceš.“ Dozvieme sa, že má 77 rokov, jasné oči, vystretá postava, a tie vlasy…robí skvelú reklamu svojmu podniku.

Ocitneme sa vonku, v chladnom vzduchu, ostrom vetre a slnku. „Milujem všetky prechody sezón – z jari do leta, z jesene do zimy…“ Hej, aj ja. Ten najnáročnejší je asi zo zimy do jari, mámenie, zvádzanie svetlom a striedaním teplôt. Najpokojnejší je hádam ten z leta do jesene. Hoci, keby sme si mali vybrať jednu sezónu, väčšina by volila jar. Nie všetci. Určite nie – všetci.

Stará dedina Lamač je jedna ulica, ktorá stúpa kolmo k vŕškom Karpát, okolo nej vyrástlo sídlisko. Na západ je krajina otvorená a rovná, hranicu s Rakúskom tvorí rieka Morava. Za jasných dní však vidno aj prvé kopce Álp. V Lamači nie je žiadna hipster kaviareň, ani vychytená reštaurácia. Paneláky lemujú zvažujúcu sa cestu v dvoch radoch, na konci jedného radu sa nachádza soľná jaskyňa. Otvorili ju v roku 2005. V architektúre tejto štvrte osemdesiate koketujú s deväťdesiatymi. Sedemdesiatky sa tomu blahosklonne prizerajú. Je piatok, koniec februára, deň otvorený dobrodružstvu. Kľukatými cestami popod les a zachádzkou okolo sklárskej dielne prídeme neveľkému obchodnému centru, aké nájdete v ktoromkoľvek meste východného bloku. Mozaiky, fontána, nízke, hranaté budovy, brut-krásne.  

„Aha, aha, kaviareň, a pekáreň!“ Osie hniezdo, oškvarkový pagáč, káva a k nej miska škorice. Rozprávame sa o číslach. O energii 3 a 7. Na tento kúsok námestia v tejto chvíli slnko nesvieti, sedíme zamotané v deke, a pozeráme, ako si obyvatelia v ten posledný piatok vo februári chodia do pekárne a susedného obchodu po dobroty na víkend. Oči sa mi stretnú s nezábudkovými očami okoloidúcej.

„Vieš, kto to je?“

„Nie.“

„Tá herečka.“

„Aha.“

Presunieme sa na lavičku na slnku, keď mu nastavím tvár, cítim jeho silu. Socha čítajúcej dievčiny je vydareným kúskom, obklopená borovicami. Mimo vychodených chodníkov čakajú prekvapenia.

Soľ. Citrón. Škorica. Sedmička a trojka.

Trojky sú mentori a učitelia. Keď sú v tom pozitívnom. Keď sú v negatívnom, celý život študujú, ale boja sa postaviť pred ľudí a odovzdať im múdrosť, ktorú v sebe majú. Chcú stáť na pódiu, túžia po uznaní. Ak ho nedostanú, môžu byť veľmi smutní. Majú v sebe niečo detské a preto si veľmi s deťmi rozumejú. Ale detský môže znamenať aj škriepny, urážlivý, tvrdohlavý.

Sedmička… to sú nomádske duše, ľudia, ktorí sa presúvajú z miesta na miesto. Ako to je: nikde nie som doma, alebo všade som doma? Je to pohyb, objavovanie, chodiť po kľukatých cestách, neprebádaných trasách. Poďme sa stratiť a nájsť. Tieňová strana je – dávať nevyžiadané rady. Sedmička je duchovný učiteľ, len potrebuje uznať svoju autoritu sprievodcu, a odovzdať ju tým, čo ju chcú dobrovoľne prijať. Sedmička je nabitá sexualitou, v tieňovej energie bojuje a ničí, v svetelnej energii inšpiruje a vedie.

Nabudúce… Žeby päťka a osmička?