Khaya Ronkainen

i.

It’s not the poetic entrance I envisioned through which I enter the land of enchantment. I find myself trust into a scene where I have to step outside of my comfort zone, disregard the rules of politeness and stand up for myself.

ii.

Prior to my arrival, I was told that Zagreb’s spirit is not limited to a single spot. Its charm can captivate any visitor. That’s why even a hostile interaction with a waitress at the coffee shop, on our first day, doesn’t deter my search for beauty. Besides, I also give her a generous dose of her poison. And as we take leave, she murders me with her look. I sweetly smile, knowing I’ll spend the next few days in this city resurrecting myself.

iii.

I try not to use race as the sole lens to look and interpret events that happen in a place. Instead, I harness the magic to face my limitations and set my spirit free. ‘Cause there’s beauty too in just going to a restaurant without reading the reviews first and let myself be surprised.

iv.

Realizing it’s not too late to become the type of person I want to be, I grab my backpack and make my way to Split. It’s where I too can become a bronzed goddess. The red carpet is rolled out and there’s always a seat at the table.

v.

How fortunate that there’s no need to split yourself here! There’s no need to be exclusively one way or the other, or view things as entirely good or evil. ‘Cause two things are certain — one cannot buy sunsets, and one cannot chase sunsets. Mother Nature delights us all in equal measures whether or not we deserve her generosity.

vi.

There’s no point in shrinking yourself in Split, for the rich won’t stop playing. It’s best to get on with your thing, the one that brings you joy, and stop viewing yourself or life from a point of deficiency.

vii.

The realisation that not everything is a metric or measure that leads me tumbling into shame is a kind of magic. Because I neither have to be perfect nor compare myself to others, instead I can approach this abundance with curiosity.

viii.

I welcome this feeling of mediocrity in my life after a long period of pursuing unattainable goals. Heck, I’ve been advocating for making play a priority for a few years now! I even had “PLAY” as my chosen word for some forgotten year. Yet I failed spectacularly at playing.

ix.

This is a place that makes things happen. It’s where you finally call your real life by its true name. A place where you get to answer the silent scream you call your calling. For there’s something exceptional that fuels an unwavering dedication to art itself, the pure love of storytelling and exploring ideas.

x.

A way of looking at enchantment involves carefully examining an experience from different angles in order to define success in a way that resonates with you — It’s embracing your mediocre life and be content with it. Because you realise you don’t actually want what others have, but what is meant to be yours.

xi.

Elevated by this knowing, I see how an island is a cliff rising from the seabed. Crafted from a volcanic action, it unites the sky and sea like magic. Just as the island simply exists, beautiful and resilient, so can we rise and root ourselves in life’s wonders. We can live joyfully — grounded, uplifted, embracing each wave — as we find beauty in simply being.

xii.

I accept the offering and bid farewell to my inner critic. I let go of the ideal version of myself and embrace who I truly am. By tapping into this wellspring of authenticity, where confidence and peace naturally grow, I’m unburdened by the need to perform or conform.

xiii.

Split’s charm is in its harmonious blend of stunning natural beauty catering to diverse needs, historical and cultural treasures, and warm hospitality. With confidence, I navigate the narrow cobblestone streets, feeling like an actress in a James Bond movie, in search of the black risotto I eat with gladness.

xvi

Upon returning home, I bump into a neighbour I haven’t seen in weeks. They greet and ask, “How are you?” I respond, “I am living.” They look at me confused. I simple smile, for I do not want to break the spell.

PS. This is the last post of the series. I enjoyed writing these vignettes as much as I enjoyed reading your comments. Thank you for taking the time to read. Much appreciated! ♥

PPS. If you just stumbled upon this post, A Way of Looking at Autumn’s First Breath is the starting point of this short series, even though these posts can be read as standalone.