THERE IS KNOWLEDGE BEYOND MIND

 

I grab my child, grab her backpack and run. Down the stairs from the second floor, out to the right, super close to the wall. No thinking. No feeling. All suspended to allow my body to take over, to do all the actions required to save our lives. Somehow it knows how to move my legs. How to firmly hold my baby.

 

Holding my breath, pressing my little 4-years-old Ines to my chest, I am running next to the building wall to the underground atomic bomb shelter. My whole heart echoing “get your child out of here, even one bomb is too much, and we had plenty already.”

 

My husband Kiko is running next to us carrying our emergency backpack and protecting us with his body.

 

“Mommy, mommy” – suppressing her tears and deep sadness in her voice, my precious daughter, whispered: “My teddy bear…”

 

Her most bellowed possession, her most cherished friend, and sleeping buddy was left at home by the bed. I realize I did not check if she had a chance to grab it like I usually did before we had to run.

 

“I will bring it, baby, don’t worry” – daddy answered, yet I knew the truth – no going back right now, we must reach the shelter first.

 

The bombing that night started earlier than usual. The distance to the shelter seemed to take longer than ever before. Now few more stairs down and in. We made it.

 

Kiko opened the heavy double stainless-still door, and we entered the shelter, greeted by the neighbors who made it in little earlier. Catching a breath, stale and already too familiar basement air smelled safety at least for this night, still without promising tomorrow.

 

Lowering my precious girl to the floor, I saw Kiko’s turned back and heard his:

“I’ll be back with the teddy bear.”

Quietly begging God to keep him safe, no longer meant any relief.

 

MY FAITH, MY HOPE, SEEMED TO HAVE LOST ITS GROUND

 

With Ines’s tiny hand in mine, we continued a few more steps to our usual place in the shelter. As I lifted her up onto the military cot bank bed, all the years of suppressed panic and anxiety threatened to erupt.

 

Hyperventilation, tension, throbbing in my chest, sweating, and all other panicky feelings started coming at once. I knew them. Many times they would take me to the edge of consciousness.

 

Fearing for my family in Croatia a whole previous year of war there, and now several months of directly experiencing it here in Bosnia, made those attacks a regular occurrence.

 

This one was the worst so far. I sensed that I could be completely blacking out any second now.

 

And then, in a flash, almost passing out, my jaw clenched, tears broke and soaked my eyes, and instead of sinking into the floor, every cell in my body roused at once and internally voicelessly screamed “OUT!! I am taking my child out of this dreadful place into freedom and peace wherever I will find it.”

I knew it was not in this city, not in the bomb shelter for sure.

 

I ONLY HAD A DREAM TO THE RESCUE

 

On that same bare concrete shelter floor, night after night, too often hungry, always afraid to close my eyes for not knowing if I will open them to see my girl, I dreamed. I dreamed of a peaceful place, simple life, loving, laughing and sharing abundance being nourished on all levels by family, friends, food, love.

 

I have finally reached the full resolve conviction to leave this war-torn city and get to the place of peace and ordinary living. I did not know where that is. All I knew that my strongest longing was to first and foremost reach my hometown and family in Croatia.

My hometown Osijek, still war-torn itself, barely three hours drive in peaceful times, now felt three hundred light years away. I did not know how we would get there. All I knew was that not a single person was allowed to leave the sieged city of Sarajevo. What we wanted was daunting, yet I knew the most potent power in the universe was love and hope for our child to live.

 

We knocked on so many doors already, only to have them bolted in our faces. We were excluded entirely from the groups permitted to leave, which were few if any at all, because we did not have the right first name or last name, or did not belong to a particular religion, or nationality, or whatever other reason they could find to deny us and keep us locked in this hell. How in the world will it happen then?

 

ALL I KNEW WAS THAT IT SOMEHOW WILL COME TRUE

 

A few weeks later, I was once more revisiting (in the blink of an eye, even doubting) that dream. Once again, I was holding my breath and keeping my daughter’s tiny hand in mine. We sat in one of the buses evacuating a few hundred of Sarajevo’s ill children and their moms.

 

After knocking on so many doors, my husband had lastly found the one that opened. Our daughter’s medical condition papers qualified her, and the woman accepting them granted the seats on the bus for both our daughter and my husband’s nephew, with both moms. Eternally grateful for her heart, we took such an enormous risk of boarding the bus to freedom. All we could do was to pray and hope this would be different than the earlier ones that were kept hostages for days.

 

AND THE TIME COLLAPSED

 

Less than twenty minutes drive to the Serb’s Army check-point (one of the many holding the city in the choke-point), we stopped for a check-up. Over fifty living beings on our bus, half of them children under ten, and you could hear the needle drop. We firmly held our breaths as the soldier in full military gear entered the bus through the front door to inspect and check if any man is hiding among us.

 

THE GIANT ENTERED

 

Over six foot high, perhaps in his late forties, in olive military uniform, former federal army (plus paramilitary) ranks on the hat, shoulders, and cuffs, automatic rifle across the chest with his finger on the trigger, an extra chain of ammunition across the chest in the opposite way of the firearm, handgun on the belt, knife next to it. Stupor in the eyes that you instantly know would not tolerate any unordered eye contact. We kept our eyes lowered, heads toward our chests.

 

After five or maybe fewer, yet the most extended minutes of my life, he exited the bus through the back door and ordered the driver to continue. Seeing the ramp lifting before the bus marked the first checkpoint survived and permission to take a breath.

 

The next check-point was another twenty to thirty minutes away, right before the town of Kiseljak, our freedom destination. As with this one, there was no other way but through. So we did.

 

THERE WERE MUCH HIGHER FORCES IN PLAY ON OUR BEHALF THAT DAY

 

Little shy than an hour since the bus left the station in the city’s center, we were exiting the bus on the free territory. Thursday, November 26th, 1992, became my daughter’s and my Freedom’s Birthday.

My husband had to stay behind and would wait for his for another almost two years. Thousands of citizens and children never made it to theirs through what became the most protracted siege in modern history.

 

WHEN YOU NO LONGER PRAY

 

There are moments in life when you can only pray, and then moments like those described earlier when you no longer pray. All my prayers up until that moment of tectonic shift culminated into something best described as knowing.

It was not a hope, not begging, not negotiating with God. It was fully accessing God’s consciousness and becoming one with it. Taking the throne of your life and deciding your work on this Earth is not done yet and you are staying till you finish it.

 

TAKING LEAPS TO LIVE THE DREAM

 

Slightly less than three years later, a year after my husband was allowed to leave Sarajevo and joined us in Croatia, in yet another great leap of faith and hope for my family, we resettled as war refugees to the United States.

 

We made that leap without resources, connections, or proof that such an idea of living in such a far and foreign country was that great. To top it all – we did it without understanding or speaking a word of English.

 

As I started learning the language of our new home, I started sharing my heart and the growing language skills by giving my voice to tens of thousands of non-English speaking people who would not be able to express themselves, would not be heard, much less understood. I knew. I was one of them in the beginning.

Through now more than twenty-seven years of interpreting for my fellow refugees, witnessing (and directly or vicariously experiencing) such enormous pain, suffering, and traumas on vast levels, I was honored with an open insight into humanity’s highest heights and deepest depths, gaining more knowledge about humans than I could never before even imagine possible.

 

In one leap of faith and hope after another, bridging those deep communications gaps, I found that my bomb shelter dream has become my daily reality.

 

Helping others communicate in the foreign language world, I quickly discovered that our most significant disconnection is not necessarily in the different languages we speak. Our most significant disruption and the most profound gap is between our minds and our hearts.

 

Heart-mind connection, the very bond that makes leaps of hope possible, seems to be broken, even shuttered, resulting in widespread suffering, misuse of resources, violence, destruction, and unnecessary loss of human life.

 

You don’t have to experience war as we did in Bosnia, yet you may have the battle within yourself without even knowing it.

 

Feeling overwhelmed in general? Overworked? Unappreciated for the work you do, a family you grow, relationships you tend? Disappointed with your self for your almost-forgotten dreams, ambitions, and yearnings?

We often call it stress, depression, anxiety, unfulfilled desires, and many other names. On the bottom of it is unhappiness, even hopelessness. And unresolved, to the untrained eye or ear, hidden issues.

 

IT’S-A WAR WITHIN

 

When you are unhappy with yourself, your body, your life, your work or business, your relationships, or the people around you, you feel it deeply, yet you don’t see the reason or the solution.

 

Seeing it so clearly and prevalent, knowing there is a way out of any undesirable circumstances and feelings, I deployed my skills, training, studies, understanding, intuition, and immense experience to help people take leaps of hope and faith into their dreams and the next level goals.

My clients and students have achieved in the short months’ time what they had previously intended and could not make for years. From meeting their weight goals, purpose and career clarity, work and educational requirements, and pursuit of their own businesses and living on their terms to gaining back their time, family, joy, zest for life, and more.

 

LIVING THE LEAPS

 

Looking back on so many leaps of faith and hope taken through my life (and those I help my clients take), I realize I have lived them well before I even knew about such words, much less understanding their true meaning.

 

My life today is one of carrying out what I consider the most sacred – the work of empowering humans to (re)claim their inner worth (the real “inpower” as I call it), their confidence, and the ability for healing, for a creative solution to any and every challenge they and the world face.

 

Strongly relying on those rich experiences, excessive studies when it comes to human health, potential, physiology, psychology, success, and personal development, and leading many others through successfully taking their leaps, I bring that deep understanding, appreciation, and fascination with leaps of faith and hope into all I do.

 

Prepared, secured leaps with built-in certainty and strictly calculated acceptable risks bring all the results they seek to those taking them.

What is your next leap?

Whatever it is, know I am here to help you every step of the way so you can 

DARE TO LEAP.

LEAPS ARE WHERE MAGIC HAPPENS.

 

To learn more and explore how I can help you dare and take your leap into the next level of results you seek, fill out the contact form, let’s shake hands virtually or locally and together make our world a better place for all.

Biljana