Zvone – Inner Dialogue

Teaching my Crocodile to Work Already early in the morning, clouds had started gathering above the hills. The air felt heavy and damp, the kind of weather that quietly sticks itself to your skin before you even notice you are sweating. It looked as if rain might arrive at any moment, although it never fully committed itself to the idea. Summer often behaves like that. Threatening effort without actual results. I wandered around the house for a while pretending to do useful things. I moved tools from one place to another, inspected objects that did not require inspection, opened drawers for no particular reason, and occasionally stared thoughtfully at things as if deep concentration alone might somehow organize them. Nothing helped. The truth slowly became obvious. I did not feel like doing anything. My legs felt heavy. My head even heavier. Some invisible force seemed to be pulling me gently but persistently toward the floor. After half an hour of this highly unproductive wandering...

Why Would I Need Forgiveness If I Do Not Hold Grudges? A few days ago, while wandering through the internet the way people wander through supermarkets when they only need bread but somehow end up examining electric drills and exotic sauces, I stumbled across another discussion about forgiveness. The topic appears regularly online, usually accompanied by soft background music, photographs of sunsets, and sentences written in decorative fonts by people who apparently spend their afternoons healing humanity between yoga sessions. "You must forgive. Forgiveness sets you free. Holding grudges only poisons yourself. Release the past."  And so on. The strange thing was that while reading all this wisdom, I suddenly realized something uncomfortable.  I could not think of a single person I needed to forgive. At first that sounded almost noble. Mature, even. Then I became suspicious of myself. Surely there must be somebody. Over the years I have met enough difficult people to ...

Somewhere Along The Way I Became A Project When Life Still Felt Natural There was a time when life felt much simpler. Not easier.   Just simpler. Back then people still worked hard, worried, fought with life and carried responsibilities on their backs, but somehow there was still room left for ordinary existence. People sat outside in silence without immediately needing to optimize the experience. Nobody measured how many calories they burned while carrying wood or whether staring at clouds increased productivity. Today even relaxation feels like unpaid work. Sometimes I sit with coffee and realize that my mind no longer knows how to simply sit. After three minutes some invisible manager inside my head clears his throat and asks:  “Good. And what exactly are we accomplishing here?” Nothing. That is the whole point. But modern life has trained many of us to feel almost physically uncomfortable when we are not  progressing,  improving,  solving,  bu...

Exhausted but Refuse to Rest One of the strangest things about exhaustion is that I often do not respond to it logically. You would expect a tired human being to simply lie down, sleep, recover, and feel better. Sometimes that happens. Physical exhaustion after healthy effort can lead to deep, satisfying rest. The body collapses into bed and the mind quietly shuts down like an old machine finally allowed to cool. But there is another kind of exhaustion where rest somehow stops feeling restful. You sit on the couch but cannot relax. You scroll your phone instead of sleeping. You are tired all day and somehow even more tired at night. The body wants rest, yet the nervous system behaves as if stopping were dangerous. I used to wonder about that a lot, especially during periods when I felt emotionally burned out. There were evenings when I was so exhausted that even making tea felt like unnecessary mountaineering, yet instead of going to sleep, I would continue staring in...

Begin to Fall Apart Without Meaning? The Strange Heaviness of Doing Nothing There were periods in my life when I physically did almost nothing. No difficult expeditions. No long bicycle rides through deserts. No marathons. Just days spent sitting in front of a screen, drinking coffee that slowly lost its effect somewhere around the third cup, scrolling through endless streams of information that I would barely remember an hour later. And strangely, that kind of exhaustion often felt heavier than cycling eighty kilometers under the strong sun. That always fascinated me. Because logically, rest should help. If a person feels tired, they should recover by doing less. That sounds perfectly reasonable. Sometimes it is true. Physical rest can be wonderful. Sitting quietly by the sea, watching birds circle above the water, can feel deeply peaceful. But there is another kind of inactivity that feels completely different. Not restful, but empty. The strange part is that the body may tec...

The Wrong Measure of Suffering Many years ago, I knew a woman who had a simple explanation for almost every human problem. Whenever somebody was hurt, disappointed, anxious, depressed, heartbroken, exhausted, or simply struggling with life, she would shrug her shoulders and say something along the lines of: "Life is hard. Nature is cruel. If you can't handle it, that's your problem." Sometimes she expressed it even more bluntly. I remember sitting there listening to her and wondering whether she actually believed what she was saying or whether it was simply a habit she had developed over the years. At the time I didn't argue with her. There was little point. People rarely abandon opinions that have accompanied them for decades. Still, her words stayed with me long after the conversation ended. Not because I agreed with them. Because I wasn't entirely sure why they bothered me so much. Years later I think I understand. The problem wasn't that she believed l...

Why Advice Rarely Helps an Addict Most mornings, while drinking coffee, I spend a few minutes scrolling through social media. Not because I find it particularly useful. Mostly out of habit. Somewhere between photographs of people's lunches, political arguments, sleeping cats, and advertisements for things nobody really needs, there is always an endless supply of advice. The internet is overflowing with advice. If you drink too much, somebody has a solution. If you are anxious, somebody has a solution. If you are depressed, lonely, overworked, unhappy, exhausted, unmotivated, emotionally unavailable, emotionally available, too optimistic, or insufficiently optimistic, somebody has a solution. The advertisements are everywhere. "Do you struggle with alcohol?" "Are you suffering from anxiety?" "Do you feel stuck in life?" "Join our program and transform your future." "Take control of your life today." "Become the best version of y...

The Slow Way Out Of Anxiety Three Steps Forward, Two Back I move forward slowly these days. Three steps forward, two back.   Sometimes the opposite. Progress is painfully slow, almost ridiculous at times. Occasionally I notice that I have finally moved a little ahead, and just when I begin feeling proud of myself, something drags me backward again. Then I stop and think: " What pushed me back this time?" Usually the answer is not very mysterious. Exhaustion.   Overthinking.   Isolation.   Bad sleep.   Too much sitting.  Too much thinking.   Too little movement. And somewhere behind all of it, anxiety quietly waiting like an old tax collector who never fully leaves town. I know now that I was deeply anxious for years. At the time I did not fully understand it, I thought I was simply tired, stressed, perhaps too thoughtful, maybe even more intelligent than average. Anxious people often secretly flatter themselves this way: “I think de...

Some Things Cannot Be Restored The Things Time Never Returns Some things in life cannot truly be restored. A missed opportunity.  A day that already passed.  Trust once broken.  Words already spoken.  Moments that disappeared before we realized they mattered. Sometimes I wish I could move time backwards and do certain things differently. Say less. Say more. Stay longer. Leave earlier. Listen better. Be wiser. Be calmer. Be less stupid. Unfortunately life does not include an “undo” button which is probably a good thing. Humanity would spend half its existence repeatedly correcting awkward conversations, regrettable hairstyles and messages that should absolutely never have been sent after midnight. Still, there are moments I would gladly revisit. Not because they were perfect.  But because now I finally understand them. Which is, of course, emotionally useless timing. The Strange Return Of Old Pain What fascinates me is that the things I no lon...