A Journey of Emancipation- Will She Find What She's Searching For?

By Mona Vayda

She is told to be happy and not think too much. But how can she be happy after she has lost everything, her heart is so heavy and her soul is tired? She had to do something.

Buddha once said, “There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth ... not going all the way, and not starting.”

And so she embarks on a journey unlike anything she had ever done. A road to self-discovery, a road that carried her to three incredible continents, three cities: Sydney, New York City and Windhoek.

What happens she could never have imagined...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mona Vayda
• Release date: Jul 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005687229

Mona Vayda

Mona Vayda was born in Zambia, Africa in 1975. She attended Hotel Institute Montreux in Montreux, Switzerland, where she studied Hotel Management. This was followed by the University of Greenwich, London, England where shestudied Business Administration.After completing her studies she moved to Sydney, Australia where she spent the next eleven years of her life. She was a Real-Estate Agent for five years. She also ran her own business in Events Management and currently is aBusiness Development Coach and Motivational Speaker.She travelled extensively to India educating herself more on the culture and philosophies of the East. During this period she wrote for herself. Mona published her memoirs, 'A Journey of Emancipation', which portrays her search for happiness across Australia, America and Africa, having lost her marriage, house, career and money. Her journey forces her to rediscoverlaughter, appreciate the joy of living in the moment, finds true love and, most importantly, learns how to unlock the happiness within.Mona has also published, 'Manual of the Happy Human' which is a guide to living happily.

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About the Author

Mona Vayda was born in Zambia, Africa in 1975. She attended Hotel Institute Montreux in Montreux, Switzerland, where she studied Hotel Management. This was followed by the University of Greenwich, London, England where she studied Business Administration.

After completing her studies she moved to Sydney, Australia where she spent the next eleven years of her life. Currently she is a Business Development Coach and Motivational Speaker.

Mona published her memoirs which portrays her search for happiness across Australia, America and Africa.

She is told to be happy and not think too much. But how can she be happy after she has lost everything, her heart is so heavy and her soul is tired? She had to do something.

Buddha once said, There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth … not going all the way, and not starting.

And so she embarks on a journey unlike anything she had ever done. A road to self-discovery, a road that carried her to three incredible continents, three cities: Sydney, New York City and Windhoek.

What happens she could never have imagined…

Mona has also published, Manual of the Happy Human, a handbook for living happily.

Journey of Emancipation

Will she find what she’s searching for?

Mona Vayda

A Journey of Emancipation

Mona Vayda

First published 2020

by Mona Vayda

PO Box 86004, Eros

Windhoek

Namibia, Africa

[e-mail]

© 2013 Mona Vayda

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

ISBN:  9798664878479

Typeset in 10 point Garamond

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form without the permission of the author.

"Fresh, fun and serious and drawing on ancient wisdom and personal experience, Mona Vayda

embarks on a pilgrimage of self-discovery taking us with her on our own inner journey to reaffirm what is important."

Anne Haarhoff

In this auspicious writing debut, Mona Vayda explores the value of living in the here and now. She learns on her journey of self-discovery that certain relationships, while right for the time and place, are finite, and that ultimately laughter, love and inner peace are all that really matters. Written in a style that is deft and poetic, and bearing out the strength of the happy ending, this well-crafted memoir is a rewarding read.

Amy Schoeman, Namibian author

I enjoyed this book because it is important to be happy and think positively in life. And to live fully one must always laugh. This book reminds us of these crucial lessons. I would recommend it to everyone.

Sonal Patel

For my mother, who gives me strength to keep growing.

Contents

Darkness 1-23

The Last House 1-5

The Walking Dead 6-10

The Storyteller 11-15

Prisoner, Tell me, who was it that Bound You? 16-20

Nine Oaths 21-23

Hope 25-93

John D. Rockefeller’s Words 27-33

Love and Growing Up 34-39

The Bhagavad Gita 40-42

Driving Winter from our Faces 43-50

A Night Out 51-56

Beyond the Land of Childhood Enchantment 57-62

Diving into the Ocean 63-68

The Kangaroo and the Sun 69-77

Watering a Plant in Another’s Courtyard 78-82

Coffee Shop and Central Park Wisdom 83-90

The Warrior of Light 91-93

Light 95-144

Sydney Scenarios 97-102

The Album 103-109

Lawrence and Nelson 110-113

Good Vibrations 114-118

The Mysterious Workings of Universal Laws 119-124

Garden of Eden 125-135

Twenty-One Guides 136-144

Power 147-164

Under an African Sun 149-153

The Cornerstone 154-158

Cycles and Seasons 159-162

Double Blessing 163-164

"Languor is upon your heart and the slumber is still on your eyes.

Has not the word come to you that the flower is reigning in splendour amongst thorns?

Wake, oh awaken! Let not the time pass in vain!"

Rabindranath Tagore: Gitanjali 55

Foreword

Nelson Mandela wrote in Conversations with Myself that the cell is an ideal place to learn to know yourself. To explore the process of your mind and feelings. My cell was a mental one imposed by none other than myself. And it was in this cell that I slammed against the cold walls of oblivion. I was suffocating, breath by breath. That was who I was, that was who I had chosen to be, that was all I knew. But nothing lasts forever. One day the very cell that restricted my breathing finally set me free.

Buddha said: There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth … not going all the way, and not starting. I was led down a road of self-discovery, a road that carried me to three incredible continents, three cities: Sydney, New York and Windhoek. On this weird and wonderful journey ― this personal unearthing of unseen obstacles, hardships and revelations ― I finally found myself.

DARKNESS

Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Last House

A work of art, an epitome of innovation, married seamlessly with design and sensibility. The McKenzies had invited my husband Luke and I to sell their cherished home. Everything led to that moment, that juncture, that abode. Open-plan interiors dressed in creamy and neutral hues with mahogany floorboards and high ceilings.

Open kitchen in stainless steel, white marble bench tops and long breakfast bar on one end and snow cabinetry at the other. The elongated glass dining table a display of line and form, allowing it to be almost invisible yet fulfilling its purpose. Its interiors and soft palettes fused harmoniously with the contemporary style. The paintings showcased on the walls were by Australian seascape artists in brilliant blues vibrating eternalness: A single yacht against a stormy sky sailed the open seas like a lonesome traveller.

I stood on the oversized balcony, the sea like glass and the sky ablaze with a belt of red cloud as the sun secretly set on the waters below. My heart filled with gratitude for the inexhaustible and permeating beauty of this world. It commanded my attention, it demanded my respect, as did this home.

What a view, I exclaimed, turning to Mrs McKenzie.

There were no window frames puncturing the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Descriptors such as ‘theatrical’, ‘breathtaking’ came to mind. Sydney, in all its glory, with the crystal waters of Sydney Harbour, the alluring skyline, the iconic Opera House with its white sails anchored before its neighbour, the Royal Botanical Gardens, next to another masterpiece ― the Harbour Bridge. All this faultlessly nuzzled at your doorstep each morning, with each passing season. A 101 yachts randomly littered Rushcutters Bay overlooking a magnitude of green for cyclists, runners, children, mothers, fathers, dogs, cats, barbecues and picnics; weekend soccer, cricket and footy.

It is beautiful and the incredible thing is that it appears different every day, depending on the weather. One day dark and dramatic, calm and tranquil the next. And do call us Kevin and Melissa, she said smiling.

She led us inside and we climbed the stairs. Five en-suite bedrooms occupied the third storey together with the master bedroom and massive walk-in wardrobe—the size of a studio apartment and without doubt every woman’s dream come true. Gold silk curtains adorned the windows, carpets cream, and floor to ceiling white marble in all the bathrooms. Each room a commitment to proportion, texture, colour and craftsmanship.

Mr McKenzie led us to the bottom level. A four-car garage with red walls (the only splash of colour in the house) and black marble floors. Dream cars. Porsche, Mercedes, Range Rover, Aston Martin. The designer bringing the blank canvas to life, avoiding dramatic statements. An embodiment of power, grandeur, and sensuality. Aesthetic collaboration between owners and architect. Sheer genius.

We made ourselves comfortable at the dining table. I can’t begin to express how overjoyed we are about this house, Luke beamed.

We’re glad. This is important to us. We don’t want it to be just another house in your repertoire but a home you are passionate about. This passion we want you to portray to the buyers, Mr McKenzie replied.

You can rest assured that we have never been more thrilled to be representing a home. My husband’s smile was perhaps a little too wide.

I am pleased to hear that, Luke. He returned the gesture.

Kevin McKenzie was a man in his mid-forties, stocky, with a carpet of blond hair highlighting his crystal-blue eyes. His suit tailored his physique. An investment banker. Few hours at home. No children. Subtle hints from his wife indicated it was not due to lack of trying. She stood beside him looking ten years younger. She wore a silk pink blouse that displayed small embroidered stars in white showing off her cleavage. Her black skirt displayed her curves. The fullness and plumpness of her youth showed no matter how much she tried to hide it. Silver bangles danced on her left wrist. The diamond earrings grabbed my attention despite my efforts not to stare. Stunning. All the bells and whistles. However, her eyes betrayed her. They were dark with mystery, emptiness and pain. I felt the bitter complexity of a fumbling human

soul.

So when do you suggest we start the campaign? Mr McKenzie asked.

Well, looking at the auction dates, I would say the first open inspection on Saturday the 20th. So the 4th Saturday will be our auction day.

What do you think, honey? Can we get the house ready by then? Mr McKenzie looked at his wife for confirmation, his eyes glued to her.

I have a few more things to do first, so can we wait a few more weeks? She looked directly at me for a response.

Mr and Mrs Mackenzie, we want to make this process as easy and stress-free for you as we can. At the same time we want to get the best possible price. I would highly recommend starting on the 20th, but if this is difficult then we can push it back a week. But I wouldn’t suggest any later than that. I smiled at her.

After a few moments of silence she spoke. If that is what you recommend then let us aim for the 20th.

That’s fantastic! my over-enthusiastic husband exclaimed as he started filling in the paperwork, eager for their signatures, eager to add the home to our extensive and successful list.

Would you like some coffee? Mrs Mackenzie offered.

That’ll be lovely, thank you, I replied. She disappeared into the kitchen while her husband was temporarily occupied on the telephone. Luke was like a puppy, getting more excited by the minute.

I sold houses. It had been my career path for the last five years. Not easy. Many people enter the real estate industry under false impressions: long hours, months of no listings or sales, no income, the constant rejection, the degradation of the spirit and the ruin of self. Unimaginable wealth only a myth. This career necessitates staying power and the ability to overcome all obstacles. Many have given up at the last critical hour, never knowing how close they came. I was nearly one of them. My mother told me no dream is ever achieved without persistence, self-belief, patience and commitment. This profession demands ample doses. Sellers often see real-estate agents as calculating and heartless, without morals, conniving sharks, and many more adjectives I fail to mention. We rank just above car salesmen. Identify with the green stuff, red stuff, blue stuff or white stuff. Whatever colour you hold close to your heart that is the corrupting stuff. I am not indifferent to these perks, especially after several years of wallowing in the gutter. I was not a realestate agent for money only because that alone would not be enough. I genuinely enjoy what I do. I am making a difference in someone’s life, no matter how small. In many ways I am the vehicle that drives them to their next destination. I strongly believe that my actions have consequences, but also that my choices, my moral choices have respective moral consequences. What I do can affect them and their families in ways that could profoundly change their lives and their future.

Luke busied himself with the paperwork, informing Kevin about the agreement, the details, the stipulations of the fine print and, importantly, where they had to sign. While they were negotiating the paperwork, I was thinking about karma. Karma does not disappear or perish like living things. It cannot be eliminated or removed by the sun, moon, tides or time. Its power is eternal, over many moments and times.

All our actions, good or bad, will have multiplied effects benefiting or paid for over many lifetimes. Nothing goes unnoticed, unrecorded. The record will not disappear in this lifetime, or even the next, until we counteract it with a better action or virtue. Whether or not we understand or believe karma to be some mysterious moral law of the universe, no one can escape it. The law of karma is inevitable, and infallible. The way I behave every moment will be an indication of how I will be interacted with in the future. So through my work, through my personal life, through my thoughts, my feelings, and, ultimately, my actions, I have tried to be alert.

Would you like some sugar, Mona? Melissa asked, bringing me back to the moment.

Oh, no, none for me, thank you, but Luke will have one teaspoon.

The fragrant, aromatic coffee had probably been harvested in some distant Colombian coffee plantation but the ultimate delight was the intensity with which the hot, perfumed auburn liquid flooded my mouth. An explosion of flavour, the nerve endings on my palate suddenly alive with excitement. It felt orgasmic. This coffee is great, I said, my obvious delight displayed. Yes, we get the beans from a special little place selling the most exquisite coffee from around the world.

Really? Another sip, another moment of bliss.

What was that place, honey?

Sorry, darling? he replied, a little perplexed.

The place we got the coffee from? Her tone remained calm.

Oh, that. Um. All Around Coffee, I think it was.

Yes, that’s right. You should go there. It’s on Queen Street,she said.

Great, I’ll pop in.

Right, so basically I need both your signatures here and here please. Luke still engrossed in the paperwork as he pointed to the relevant places.

The couple looked at each other as if they were about to sign their death warrants, their sudden discomfort and unease evident to both Luke and I. Their moment of truth, the air overflowing with trepidation and a dash of fear, like thick fog. Change was finally knocking on their door and they had to let it in.

Many stand in dread at this instant; they impede, stall and drag out the inevitable, an involuntary defence, a delaying tactic. The pattern is universal. They all place a rigorous torture routine on themselves, some subtly, others vigorously. I have seen them question their heart, question their answers and they suddenly find themselves in a whirlpool. At those precise moments my role is to hold their hands and help them see what awaits them, to reassure and give them confidence that we have their best interest at heart. If at the end of the day they do not sign, we would respect their decision.

Right, so we are doing this? Are you good honey? Kevin McKenzie asked his nervous wife as he held a pen in one hand.

She did not reply immediately. Well, are you? Her fear was evident. Things will have to change, so better now than never. We might as well face it, darling, he said lovingly to his wife.

You know, we have so many wonderful memories in this place and it is harder than I thought, now that the moment has actually arrived. She looked at me for understanding.

It’s never easy, Mrs McKenzie, especially when you have such a beautiful home, I said

sympathetically.

She observed her husband for a few more seconds. Change is inevitable, I guess. She managed a smile.

It was odd to see how the McKenzies were afraid of change, but what about me?

With a deep breath she spoke, Okay, I’m ready. Where do I sign? She said this as if she would change her mind if she didn’t do it that very second. Her husband handed her the pen and with a shaky hand she succumbed to change.

Congratulations. Luke smiled back. Full steam ahead now and thank you for listing with us. We are really excited about this property and I assure you we will do a great job. He was in high spirits.

Thank you, they said in unison as they held each other’s hands for support.

The Walking Dead

I can’t believe we got that listing! You know, how many owners are going to come to that? It’s going to be fantastic, Luke said for the tenth time as we drove off.

Are you listening? he asked as he turned to me.

Yeah, I’m listening. I didn’t look at him.

Aren’t you happy about it? His confusion was slight, but it was immediately forgotten in his exhilaration.

Of course I am, but we still have to sell it. I was suddenly seized with a tremendous desire to flee from the claustrophobic, suffocating confines of the car.

What we need to do straightaway is organise the photos and floor plan. Send an email to our database especially those buyers we met last week, you know the ones who are cashed-up and ready to go. I think we should actually take them there first for a private viewing and ... His voice faded away.

Rushcutters Bay Park was silhouetted against the darkening sky. I turned the car window down and inhaled the fresh evening air. The masts of the yachts seemed to emerge from nowhere. There were a few joggers with their pets. Within no time that sight vanished as we approached the main road.

How did I end up here, I wondered, wife to Luke, successful real-estate agent, driving a Mercedes, holidays in five-star resorts each year, living in a beach-side apartment in Sydney? I should have been grateful, I should have been happy, I should have been delighted with my life. But I wasn’t. I woke up each morning empty, and went to bed lonely, and in between I worked so hard there was nothing left of me. The ocean suddenly appeared as we drove down the hill towards Bronte Beach. My window was still open when the salty air hit me. The beach was busy even though the sun had set. It was always pleasant this time of the year.

I had been an active ready participant in creating the reality I was now at the centre of, a reality that with each passing day was ballooning into a nightmare. Time crawled with feet of lead and all the while the gruesome winds of day to day transported me to the jagged edge of some monstrous precipice. It felt like I had walked many perilous paths and had wiped many tears off my face. How could I escape? I stepped out of the car and looked at the sky for an answer. Heavy, like my heart. I tried to understand it, become part of it. I wanted to run away with it. But the sky did not darken, the clouds did not thunder, nor did the winds suddenly howl. I felt ill, I squashed my burning lids with my moist hands as though I was attempting to drive my eyeballs back into their cave. What was the point? My life had become a grotesque reality and what future waited? There is a saying If any be unhappy let him remember that he is unhappy by reason of himself alone. I was my biggest enemy. Lost in some frightful forest, paralysed. I needed divine intervention, I needed a sign ― as if being miserable and fed up with my very existence on this earth wasn't sign enough.

I’m going for a walk, I said as we stepped indoors after a quick change of shoes.

He turned to me. What, now?

"I’ll be back