Never feel sorry for yourself

Sometimes people get hurt because life doesn’t owe us anything. We are born and the rest is up to us. If you want something in life, you only owe it to yourself to go out and get it. But when that happen, how hard is to turn the pain into an opportunity for learning and personal development? I have been thinking for days how to share a recent experience I have been through.

Recently I felt the betrayal of the man I loved. He plunged a knife into my chest and instantly I start bleeding. I felt that every day I was dying on the inside. It was an unrecognisable pain, like every cell on my body was screaming. Life is an interesting journey and based on previous experiences I knew that I get into a sort of a crossroad and it’s up to me to decide the best way to go.

Emotionally I was completely out of my comfort zone but I knew that every ending is actually a new beginning. It was an opportunity to reborn stronger and wiser that I was before. The suffering actually helped me to see deeper and realise how many valuable internal resources I have.

I was capable of living in the present moment only after I stop looking back into the past. I start feeling alive again, and my present moment is about new places, new people and exciting sport adventures.

I remembered how important is to be authentic about who you are and what you feel. Maria was everything about authenticity from the very first moment I met her in Malta, maybe that’s why we had such an amazing connection. And George was the man who accept the challenge to run on an unknown path. He is a grateful man who learned valuable lessons about people and friendship. He is now giving back kindness in a very natural way.

Running on the Maltese cliffs was an experience above expectations. I was happy, I was there and I was grateful!

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  1 comment for “Never feel sorry for yourself

  1. Alexandru Voinea
    April 8 at 8:45 AM

    My True Names
    By Thich Nhat Hanh

    Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow–even today I am still arriving.

    Look deeply: every second I am arriving to be a bud on a Spring branch, to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings, learning to sing in my new nest, to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

    I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, to fear and to hope. The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that is alive.

    I am a mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river. And I am the bird that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

    I am a frog swimming happily in the clear water of a pond. And I am the grass-snake that silently feeds itself on the frog.

    I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks. And I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

    I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat, who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate. And I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving.

    I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hinds. And I am the man who has to pay his “debt of blood” to my people dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

    My joy is like Spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth. My pain is like a river of tears, so vast it fills the four oceans.

    Please call me by my true names, so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once, so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

    Please call me by my true names, so I can wake up and the door of my heart could be left open, the door of compassion.

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