In an attempt to find ourselves, sometimes we protest so strongly against everything imposed by others that we do not notice how, instead of freedom, we acquire new frameworks. To realize this, I had to go to the ball. Real. Officer.
“Dean, let’s go to the ball!” – the alarmed voice of a friend sounded from the phone.
– On Bali? I asked with interest.
– Yes, Bali! Ball! Officer. Sevastopol. Fifth. Day after tomorrow.
Friday, eight o’clock. In the morning I remembered that there was a long weekend ahead – the June holidays. All day I was looking for tickets anywhere, but this “destination” was sold out. The prospect of spending three days either in rainy or stuffy (the weather had not yet been decided) Moscow did not please at all. Sevastopol? Let’s go!
When the tickets were reissued, a friend sent a message: “The dress code is strict.” And then – a link in which one big source of stress: “Evening dress of full length (to the ankles and below), wide, not restricting movements in the dance. Light, solid pastel colors are preferred. Ball gloves. Neat feminine shoes with heels, in harmony with the outfit. Evening hairstyle … “And also – about ten points” unacceptable.
What score?! I would like to be in Bali, where stretched T-shirts, the sun, the freedom to be yourself without the obligatory attributes of identification, without the need to prove something to someone. And here – the triumph of boundaries, frameworks, norms, rules. And first of all external. But there was no turning back.
With such a protest against everything imposed, I frantically found a salon for renting evening dresses. I didn’t have any of my own in the wardrobe: evening ones – when I was born, I gave out cocktail ones to friends a year ago.
– Are you going to the Sevastopol ball like that? Everything has already been dismantled in a month, ”the girl in the cabin spread her arms. “We need to prepare for such events in advance!” Well, there is one dress …
Welcome to the world of “must” and “should”! “We must in advance” – this is not for me today. This is for those who have not yet understood themselves, who still attach too much importance to all the events of life, because of which they suffer later. The less important, the easier and more interesting life. Then nothing can unsettle you. So I thought, pulling on a heavy dress with rhinestones. How I looked in it – I was not interested, according to the dress code it fits, and it’s good. But the presence of pockets is a nice bonus. It is a pity that in the XNUMXth century this joy was not available to girls.
On the road, I tried to understand why I was given this situation. During a year and a half of practicing meditation, working with the body, training attention to the inner voice, calibrating desires in the format “I want this or someone else”, I realized that not a single event in life happens just like that. All situations happen for a purpose. The hint came immediately.
Freedom is the ability to be yourself, understand your desires and stand firmly on your feet. Even if in heels and in an evening dress
A friend sent a photo from Vietnam, where he is lying on the beach doing nothing. Two years ago, Max quit a stable job in Moscow, rented an apartment and went to Vietnam to look for himself and grow spiritually. He left for three months, stayed for two years, and is not going to return. A year ago, when I was visiting him, he convinced me that here it is, freedom, here it is – the meaning of life, here he became himself. I admired and envied. He – could, I – just starting the path to this freedom.
All those who “found themselves” in this way immediately popped up in my head. Sasha visits Moscow, but everything here seems alien to him, imposed, heavy. He is annoyed by people-achievers, haste and restrictions. He constantly wanders to India and believes that only there he can be himself. Alina leaves Moscow at the first opportunity and denies everything Russian, because somewhere she manages to be real, but here she has to play.
I think many who read the stories of my friends will think that they are lucky. That’s what I thought too until now. A moment of realization: having got rid of the boundaries and restrictions of the big city, friends placed themselves in the framework of great freedom, and in order to “be themselves”, they all need to be somewhere else. It was this contradiction, not realized before, that did not allow me to leave – there was an opportunity.
But to truly be yourself, to be free, does not mean finding a place where this is possible. Being yourself means observing life with interest, eagerly swallowing everything new and unknown, wherever you are. To perceive everything with genuine childish interest. To be yourself, to be free means to stand firmly on your feet. Even if on heels and in an evening dress.
So, standing in front of the mirror in high heels, in a dress, with a hairdo appropriate for the occasion, I looked at myself and thought: but this is also me. Through protest, I learned a lesson through which I was able to enjoy the amazing performance. Yes, the ball was amazing. I rejoiced, like a child, at the officers in snow-white suits, the heroes of the present, reminiscent of the past, the girls, as if descended from the pages of Tolstoy’s novel. Quadrille, waltz and paso doble against the backdrop of the lights of the Mikhailovsky battery, where the ball was held. I rejoiced in the scope, power and strength. Hundreds of participants in the ball who had never danced, but learned specifically for the sake of the ball, looked like happy brave men.
To reincarnate, to be flexible and able to interact with any people, of any rank, in any place and time, without forgetting who you are – this is freedom. Rules and regulations are perceived as an entertaining game, if you follow them by your own consent. His own, not imposed from outside.
Will I come here again? Necessarily. Next year. As for Bali, I’ll also go there, and I’ll be free there just like here.
After the ball: the magic of Sevastopol
Soda machines, a cafe at some Baba Nyura, songs to the button accordion on the coast. Such a frozen picture of the post-Soviet past. That’s what I expected from Sevastopol. But no. The city has destroyed stereotypes about recreation in the Crimea. Sevastopol is a portal to other realities, in space and time. Yes, one of the given directions is Lenin on Lenin Street. But others are unexpected.
The coast of the city with white houses and cafes forcibly – and fortunately – returns to Crete. The inscription “Dolphinarium”, stylized as the Greek alphabet, confirms that there is a similarity. I don’t think so.
The lanes of the city with sharp ups and downs, vines lazily sliding down the stone walls, resemble the streets of old Tbilisi. Some buildings in the very center of Sevastopol with bas-reliefs and monograms resemble those of Lyon or Paris.
The plantations of the Zolotaya Balka winery, whose vineyards are located at the foot and on the slopes of the mountains, look the same as the vineyards in Bordeaux. Unless the scope is several times larger – 1400 hectares. It creates a feeling of complete peace, where you can relax and feel the taste of nature. In a figurative and literal sense.
With this similarity to other amazing places on the planet, Sevastopol is saturated with the heroic spirit of the past, feats committed here more than once. They are proudly reminded by coastal batteries restored after destruction, the Walk of Fame in the very center of the city and numerous museums, keepers of history.
In two days, I gained a lesson worth half a lifetime, and travel – a month in advance. Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder, and if he is still free, then there are no boundaries.