Quest for vision

This summer solstice was one of the few milestones of our community. We've decided to quest for a vision to find a new location in Hungary. This move will take place next year.

Migrants in Hungary - 2015

Source: http://hvg.hu/nagyitas/20160125_sajtofoto_fazekas_istvan_tranzitorszag

2015 and beyond

2015 was a great year. I moved out from my first community to live with my girlfriend. Along with five more friends we started the Mi-Csoda community that is only ten minutes walk from Rugy on 15 June 2015. We are now four couples sharing one house in the Pismany area of Szentendre.

Follow us on our Facebook page and our website (English version is coming).

I am connected to all. My life and well-being are connected to all others. Our dream is community living in a settlement similar to an ecovillage. The name of the project is sirius.one. Further details including location are to be decided in the following months.

On the last day of this year we are listing all that we were thankful for in 2015. We enter the new year with gratitude in our hearts. We want to walk on the path that brings love and grace not only for ourselves but for everyone. Including you. Most important:"Never believe a prediction that doesn't empower you."

We wish you a peaceful and happy 2016.

DANSE MACABRE
 
Written by Gyorgy Faludy
After Francois Villon

The Emperor sat, proud and splendid,
with seven stars upon his brow.
Slave nations worshipped him on bended
knees, on his navel stood the Plough.
Above him gleamed, like alabaster,
the lighted lantern of the moon,
but, turning now towards his master,
the jester wept. "Don't cry, buffoon,
I've conquered every human being,
the world is mine." – But sure enough,
the Reaper whiffed him off, that evening,
as one removes a piece of fluff.
– We lived like despots, one and all,
and Time flew by, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

A Gothic arch reveals the Doctor.
"Oh Lord, before I reach my term,
please, help me find the holy nectar
that heals the hopeless, the infirm."
A shape appears, a gaunt professor,
to hawk his magic anodyne,
and pours out of a pewter vessel
a cupful of some hueless wine.
"Drink up, you learned nectar-seeker,
a drop will cool the fever's heat,
heal every wound. Now take this beaker,
the first sip, mind you, won't be sweet."
– We were just charlatans, we all,
and Time flew by, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

The Child stood by the well, in fraying
red sandals, staring in the deep.
Down there he saw his likeness, playing.
"Come, join the game, it's just a leap!
At nights the Moon Maids give us plenty
of gingerbread and fairy cakes,
and we can leapfrog five and twenty
young froglets when the morning breaks."
"I'm coming." – Soon a serpent wriggled
upon him in the slimy ooze.
The mother wept, but Death just giggled
and gave her two red sandal-shoes.
– We played like children, one and all,
and Time flew by, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

Her looking glass was cracked and faded.
"My hair's still auburn" said the Whore,
"my famous charms are still un-jaded
but no one wants me any more.
My sex is still a red-hot fire,
my breasts are firm, as in the past..."
And then, guffawing, an admirer
knocked on the door, the very last.
"Come, dance again, be gay and ribald,
unleash once more your scarlet arts,
a ghost shall feast upon your shrivelled,
pallidly purple private parts."
– We raped and rutted, one and all,
and Time flew by, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

As darkness shrouded roof and gable,
and waking owls began to hoot,
the Banker left his counting table
to bury his ill-gotten loot.
But at the cross-roads Death stood waiting,
with seven devils at the rear.
"Don't draw your sword, that useless plaything."
The skull was breathing in his ear:
"Your gold is mine, isn't it funny?
For you, my friend, will have to die,
yes, you'll be buried, not your money.
And who will bother, where you lie?"
– We were all usurers, we all,
and Time flew by, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

"Not yet! Not yet!" the Lady pleaded
upon her couch of gold and lace,
but willy-nilly He succeeded
and held her in a tight embrace.
"Allow a few more languid kisses,
another pearl-embroidered dress,
a few more gallant artifices,
another night of lustfulness."
But He befouled her breasts, to smoulder,
to burn like cancer, deep inside,
then slung the white corpse on his shoulder
and took her to a ghostly ride.
- We lounged in luxury, we all,
and Time flew by, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

The Alchimist stood by his fire,
his hour-glass was running low.
"Devil or God, grant my desire:
give one more day before I go.
I need one more conclusive trial
to save mankind from Adam's curse,
and solve, inside my crystal vial,
the secret of the universe."
"No more delay, and no more testing."
An icy voice came from the deep.
The vial blew up. "Time for resting.
Go, sleep where all the others sleep."
– We sought the secret, one and all,
and Time flew by, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

In Rheims, before the Easter service
the plague arrived, bells and the rest.
The flabby Bishop in his surplice
was first to meet the deadly guest.
"I wrote this tune for you, my father,
let's dance to it, great Monsignor.
Be pope, or be a prophet rather,
wrapped in the mists of mystic lore,
be heretic or join the friars,
burn on the stake or go to mass:
from high above, from lofty spires,
I laugh at you, self-righteous ass."
– We were all hypocrites, we all,
and Time flew by, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

The Peasant was prepared and willing,
as dusk descended from the east.
"Our life is cheap, the work is killing,
we toil and end up like a beast.
But brother Reaper, grant a favour:
you know, our soil is very poor,
so, when you take my spent cadaver,
please spread it here, it's good manure."
Death nodded: "Yes." And walked much slower,
to scatter him with gentle care,
as seed is scattered by the sower,
or poppies by the autumn air.
– We all return to earth, we all,
and Time just flies, like April breezes.
Upon your precious blood we call:
Have mercy on our souls, Prince Jesus!

Links to English source and Hungarian original.

Tragedy of Man

Illness is the doctor to whom we pay most heed; to kindness, to knowledge, we make promise only; pain we obey.
Marcel Proust

2014 and beyond

2014 was the first year I lived in a real community my friends and I created.

At the beginning the whole new kind of lifestyle seemed new and exciting.  It took some time to pass the buzz.  I came to realise there is nothing special in living with others.  Joint meals, shared cooking and gardening, scheduled cleaning all can be fun.  Having friends and/or family members around used to be the way how people lived in the previous centuries.

Our initial commitment was valid for one year and it is the time for evaluation.  What have we learned?  How shall we improve the community life?  How do each and every member of the community want to live?  Everyone has to face these questions.  Individual decisions create individual futures that adds up to joint future.

It is an exciting time for the community.  Two members, one is Ferenc and the other is me are leaving in January.  Further interest and new members are welcome as always.  A leader needs to be selected and internal agreements need to be made, it has been stated.  Uncertainty as unspoken and unmanaged tension is being risen and will calm down with the arrival of the new structure and new members only.  We shall see what happens.

I keep cutting down on physical objects to become even more flexible with less matter.  The less I have the more flexible I shall be.  I've given up defined plans as well.  I've decided to open up all possibilities from February.  The only plan is to participate on a ten-days long Vipassana meditation course in the first half of February.  Next is uncertainty.  I might stay in Szentendre or might move to the capital or to the countryside or go abroad.  I will see.

I might give a further update about Rugy Community.  In the meantime, the FaceBook page is going to be maintained and updated regularly at https://www.facebook.com/pages/R%C3%9CGY-K%C3%B6z%C3%B6ss%C3%A9g/1416795685255311?fref=nf.

Sweet dreams

“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” ― C.G. Jung

Being unaware of the dream I called life, I used to be dreaming pre-2012.  I am aware some of my dreams now.  I know that I am dreaming, in an unconscious-like situation.  It is far from awakening.  I want to wake up, become awaken.  “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” ― C.G. Jung