I wrote this article below recently. The reason why I put my thoughts on paper was because I started to sense how much life there is un-lived in the world. In fear of something or other, we have collectively retrieved to a hamster-wheel kind of life that seemingly provides us with the security we need in order to function well. But functioning well is not living to the fullest.

I recently realised that there is a great deal of pain that has not been dealt with. We perfectly understand that men/women who come back from a war-zone are in in some kind of post traumatic sock. However, when it comes to civilians we do not seem to recognise when we are in sock and/or loss. The COVID-19 Pandemic and its after effects that we are living in right now is one of those times of ‘shock’ that we do not realise. We have been separated from loved ones so we often experience loneliness but we do not seem to notice. We try to move on as quick as possible, going back to our lives as it was though it is often not possible. So, we are at a loss.

As we neglect to acknowledge these feelings, they pile up inside of us and often end up making us feel depressed. Plus, we unknowingly pass our sense of pain down to our children because we leave them unattended. Children tend to be very sensitive to their parents emotional state.

Emotional pain is just like physical pain of a wound. If you leave it unattended it gets infected and spreads.

Often the solution is as simple as sitting down, closing our eyes, scanning the world of your feelings and emotions and embrace them like a child who needs a cuddle. Sometimes it takes more …

In my art-filled courses we use tools that allow you to acknowledge and heal from a sense of loss, from a crisis, and find ways to let go of the past, traumas and sock in order to be able to live your life to the fullest.


Whose pain is it anyway?


I grew up during the socialistic oppression in Hungary. I did not particularly experience growing up traumatic at the time because I was born after the revolution of 1956.

I must have been in my early thirties when during a heated conversation with a colleagues, a trainer called me a ‘nazi’. He did not exactly say that, he said something along the lines of ‘you command and treat your environment like a Nazi officer’. This comment hurt me badly but I could not see why at the time. Years later it dawned on me that the military regime I grew up in had moulded me into an army officer. I had become a savage.

So, one day I set down and started to remember how we had lived and I started to notice the excruciating pain we had endured over those years of  tyranny. During the revolution, my grandfather had to watch his mates being hanged on tries unable to help them.

My grandmother was sent to prison for ‘black-marketing’ that she had been forced to do so she could feed her family. She served three years. During that time, she lost most of her hair and left the prison as a broken person. In the meantime, my mother was raised by her 3-year older sister.

The other side of my family, the bourgeois side, lost everything, because they were marked ‘class-alien’ which meant that they did not belong to the now favoured working classes so most of their possession had been repossessed by the state.

Loss, after loss, after loss. I still do not know how they survived it all. As a result, however, and because they had probably nothing else left to give, they left me with their unresolved pain.

I look at some of my family members’ constant rage and I see how much pain they are in. Somehow, all we can do is to pass our unresolved feelings of loss down onto the next generation, and the next, the next ...

Nobody seems to take the courage to knowledge and deal with the debilitating sorrow we have been living with as a nation for decades.

Isn’t it time?