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A Great Story

Blessed are those who see their Self reflected in the eyes of another. Even more blessed are those who truly see each other.

– T.


Cusco, Peru 2017. Photo © of T.Nikic


She doesn’t go to bars and she’s never been to this one. The bar she has entered is filled with magic. She’s failed to connect with the acquaintance she’s spending the evening with, so she orders a magic potion to drink. No sugar added.

He had been at a party with his best friend who was visiting him. He doesn’t remember how it happened, but he ended up sitting on a stool at the bar next to her. Neither of them knew how long they’d been there when he turned to her and asked, “Have you read about this magic?” At that exact moment they entered into a creative space of infinite possibilities where they could go anywhere that night together.

When she walked away from him she wondered if she met HIM. The next day when he asked to see her again, she wanted to tell him that she wasn’t ready, that she that it was too soon. But she didn’t. “How could I not be ready?” she wondered, “I’ve been waiting to meet someone like him my entire life”. Instead, she continued the dance of texting and late night phone calls, and pushed him away, slowly at first, but it turned into a cruel ordeal soon thereafter.


Fast-forward about six months. They’ve not spoken nor seen each other. Perhaps they remained curious, but no contact was made. She travels to a far away land to heal, for she thinks that the reason she pushed him away is deep, and she needs help to do so. She drinks a healing potion three times. The first time she drinks it, she releases all that has been holding her back her entire life. The second time she drinks it, he comes to her, joyful and smiling, wanting to be with her. Happily, they embrace for a long time. She tells him she has to finish her work but that she will return to him. Reluctantly, he leaves her. The third time she drinks the potion, she becomes a bird and flies to the mountain peak. It becomes official then – she has healed and is ready for the next elevation.


When she returns home, she reaches out to him. His reply suggests that he is unsure or uninterested. She doesn’t push. He visits her in a dream a few weeks later. They are together but there are many people watching them. One of the walls of the room of their bedroom is actually a stage. There is a play going on and he seems interested in watching it. She feels love because they are doing something together. She wakes up feeling hopeful.


It’s been over five months since her healed self returned home and reached out to him. No contact and yet he visits her in yet another dream. In this dream, they are sitting around a dining room table, outside in a green garden with many flowers on a warm, sunny day. It feels like late spring. The people sitting around the table feel like her family, and he is sitting with her and laughing with them. He serves her breakfast – farmer’s market butter and honey spread lovingly on a piece of bread made with love. She never told him that was her favourite breakfast growing up. She is moved to tears. He smiles at her and she wakes up. Oh, the grace, blessings, love, she feels on a soul level when she opens her eyes that morning – he said goodbye to her so lovingly. She sends a sincere prayer of gratitude to him.


His presence in her physical life was very short, yet he graced her with love that transcended the senses and reached her soul. He inspired her to heal. She learned that life is about allowing, not holding on. She is now flying.

The meeting of their souls was planned long before they saw each other, but their meeting started a new chapter in her life. A life of conscious commitment, to her Self, to honour her soul on every level, in every way, each and every moment, for the rest of her life.

The fairytale is over.


A Moment In Time Reflections

Note: Painting is original work of T.Nikic ©

Note: Painting is original work of T.Nikic ©


I suppose that sometimes the most obvious choice to make, is the hardest. You can’t exactly see it clearly until you’ve truly let go, and distanced your Self from it. Completely.

Real life stories of dealings with addiction gave birth to this poem.

One life. One love.


“You’ve got to learn to leave the table, when love’s no longer being served.”~Nina Simone

“When you come from trauma, survival seems like self-care.”~Afra Karen


It was Sunday.

I awoke to find her looking at me.

I held her gaze for a long while before she spoke.

Her eyes spoke of love and sadness;

her voice, heavy with emotions.


She said:

“I realized this past July

that I met my best friend

and the love of my life

a few years back.

It wasn’t the right time for us then,

nor was it the right time for us now,

but every time I saw his face,

his smile,

met his eyes,

I simply knew that there was something there…


there was something there that I could see

– a secret –

which I didn’t understand back then.

Anyway, this summer we got to hang out.

Just him and I.

Quality one-on-one time.

And we talked.

Our hearts danced.


We loved.

We sang.

Shared stories.

Shed tears with each other.

Made love in the form of art.

Or is art created only by making love?

I guess that piece shall remain a mystery to me.

I knew from the beginning that I couldn’t be in a relationship with him.

He just wasn’t ready for me then…

I doubt he’s ready for me now.

I’ve cried so many times

listening to his stories,

feeling his pain,

observing his attempt

at the escape

of what he felt.

Distancing myself was hard in the beginning.

I knew that he was draining me

but I couldn’t make sense of walking away completely.

I didn’t want to.

He didn’t want me to.

Truth is I missed him every day.

I shed thousands of tears since our last embrace.

But it’s not the fact that we’re not together

that makes me sad.

It’s the fact that I’ve lost my best friend,

to a drug.

Tho, looking back now,

he wasn’t such a great friend at times.

Addiction truly is hard….and selfish.

In my heart, there is sincere hope that he will get better,

an infinite belief because I know that

if he wants to he can.

I used to wish that I could talk to him,

hear his voice every day,

sometimes I still feel that way,

but his voice of addiction is always so loud.

So I remain,

with the knowledge that I won’t ever again BE,

simply be,

with this incredible man

because his path of choice included addiction

in whose presence I could not remain.”


I felt her heart,

watched her cry as she shared her truth with me.

I turned away for a moment,

just to gather my thoughts,

to be able to comfort her,

even share a few words.

But when I looked back,

I met my own eyes in the mirror,

filled with tears.


Only the knowledge that I saved ME, comforted me.



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