Podcast 48/52 – how to be together?

As I was making raw food balls I listened to another maker, Ann Hamilton, in a conversation with Krista Tippett, from an episode of On Being, and as seems to be the norm these days, once I’d listened to the entire show, I pressed play yet again.

In a Times interview before the new millennia, Ann stated ”I want to bring to the surface the questions we should be asking” and Krista asks her what that question is today.

How to be together.” That’s her answer, and then she continues ”That seems like the biggest question. How to be together?”.

Look around you. Look at how we are towards each other. How do we interact? How do we disagree, without belittling or abusing our opponent? How do we maintain healthy relationships with people in our lives?

Look at yourself to start with, and how you are with yourself. But also, how are you with your closest family and friends, your colleagues, your circles of support? And what about going yet another step further towards the periphery: How are you with more distant acquaintances, in your social media circles and the like?how to be together

I, for one, struggle with this. Daily. Or, perhaps struggle isn’t the right word. Because I don’t fight with this. But I do take care, deliberately try to consider my actions in the world, to make sure that I make a positive impact. And the question really comes down to this:
How do I act in the world, moment by moment, so that I am true to myself, while at the same time interact with those around me, close or far apart, in a way that is congruent with my worldview?

I give thanks…

… to myself. Since learning to be gentle with myself, life is just a wonderful adventure, in all it’s glory, through up’s as well as down’s.

… to those close to me, my family and friends. You make me a better person, and I love the way you enrich my life. Being in communion with like minded souls!

… to those who are aware. Aware of themselves, as well as their surroundings. Aware, and acting out that sense of awareness. You all help make the world a better place for us all.

… to those who struggle. With disease or mental anguish, with terror or impoverished circumstances, with relationships or loneliness, with life or death. I give thanks to you, because I learn from you and your struggles, in the same way I might have helped someone through my own struggles. At the same time, I wish your struggles would not be. My heart goes out to you all.

… to all those who knows and acts from the understanding that one person cannot do it all, but every person can do something. We all have the possibility to make a difference, and together, we can move mountains.

… to all those who stick to their worldview, even when times are tough. Who see the need to act according to ones values, treating a fellow human being as a fellow human being, whether or not she’s the first or hundredth who comes knocking, desperate, in need of a hand’s up.

… to life, to love, to laughter. I give thanks that I get to live a life and do work that matters, in these exciting and challenging times where the possibilities as well as the difficulties are endless. Together we determine the future of humankind, through our beings and actions. Imagine what might happen if we all started to act more like a kind human, living, loving, laughing? What if, we would shower ourselves, our fellow human beings and the world we live on with kindness?live love laugh

Where are you headed?

Well, you see. I’m not. Not anymore. At least not the way I used to think about the direction I was headed in. You see, I used to have the feeling that where I was, wasn’t All That. But Over There, at the end of the rainbow, that’s where All That resided… and if only I could get there, then I would live happily ever after. Until, that is, I discovered it really wasn’t All That after all, spotted a new Over There, another rainbow to chase after, which I immediately set off in search of.

This was closely linked to my view of myself as a D-I-Y-project, a renovation object, in need of fixing. If only, I would know this, or be skilled at that, or looked a bit more like Z, then I would be a person worthy of respect, love, appreciation…
expand

So when asked, the other week, Where are you headed?, I actually said as much: I’m not. Not in the sense of being here, and wanting to go over there. I look at life, and myself, as being here, and expanding. In all directions. Not moving away from where I am, to another point in the universe. No. I expand. In all dimensions. Grow.

Centered in myself. Letting my roots grow, wide and deep. Not uprooting myself over and over again, moving towards the new site of All That. Getting there. Letting my roots grow… until I uprooted myself again. And again. And again.

Centered. Rooted. I don’t miss that feeling of dissatisfaction one iota, the dissatisfaction of not being good enough, always striving away, towards something else, towards completion, being fixed. If only…

Centered. Rooted. With a feeling of satisfaction, out of which I expand way beyond any Over There that I might have been striving towards or even imagined before. With my new way of being in the world, there’s an accompanying curiosity that makes for a journey of explorative discovery. Within the framework of that journey, I am travelling far and wide; farther and wider that I ever would have been able to before. Exploring the universe, within and without the boundaries of my physical being.

So. Let your imagination run wild. What if…
– you would stop chasing the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow Over There?
– you would see that staying rooted and expanding from a center point, would open up something new in your life, something way beyond anything you’ve ever experienced before?

What then?

Bruce – more than meets the ear and eye

I love reading. I especially love reading biographies and have done ever since I was a child (or at least a teenager). So when I browsed the local library a few weeks ago, and spotted Bruce, I borrowed it and brought it home to read.Bruce

And what a book! It’s a well written biography, and despite the enormous amount of facts present in the book, it’s a joy to read, and doesn’t feel as information-laden as it actually is. But what really made me enjoy this book was Bruce himself. What a story. What a character. And jeez, what a skilled person, in his craft. Gifted musician, extremely (!!!) productive composer, and a very special singer, with a distinct voice.

Born to run is an album my older brother introduced me to when I was a kid, which was my entryway to Bruce Springsteen, and in a sense, I never got past it. I still think it’s the best he’s done, and Jungleland is, to this day, one of my absolute favorite songs. In my teens I listened to it over and over, drawn to the drama of the story, the varying sounds and atmospheres, and the powerful feeling of the entire song. But it’s been a while since I listened to it, so when I came upon the part of the book telling the story of the creation of that specific album, I immediately found it on Spotify, and started to listen. And did so with a new sensation, a deeper background, an understanding making me hear more in each song, picking up on the feeling behind, that which is sensed rather than heard.

While reading this book, a feeling grew stronger and stronger within me:
People are not what they seem to be. There’s so much more to each and every one of us, than what is apparent on the outside.

Even though this is not an autobiography, I got many glimpses of the person behind the public figure of Bruce Springsteen aka The Boss. And my reverie grew, page after page. For Bruce. His father, mother, grandparents. For people who tries to make the best of what they got, even when their best is far from sufficient… For the talented people walking alongside Bruce throughout his career. And for the audience, the listeners, the fans.

As I read, my reverie grew for human beings. We do try to make the best of what we get, and sometimes, it turns out absolutely magnificent. Sometimes, we end up with total rubbish, disaster, chaos and dread. Sometimes, the distance between a point of magnificence and a point of disaster is mere millimeters or seconds apart. The high’s and low’s of life. That’s what it is to be human. That is the Human Experience. And no one escapes it. Not me. Not you. Not Bruce. There’s no protection from it, thank God. Because without it, life would not be worth living. Life is made up of moments of high’s and low’s. And every single human being on Earth lives life according to this basic premise.

…..
Outside the street’s on fire 

In a real death waltz 
Between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy 
And the poets down here 
Don’t write nothing at all 
They just stand back and let it all be 
And in the quick of the night 
They reach for their moment 
And try to make an honest stand 
But they wind up wounded 
Not even dead 
Tonight in Jungleland

 

Podcast 47/52 – Peak creative windows

Jonathan Fields points the finger on a sore spot for me, in this Good Life Project riff. How do I structure my days to ensure I work with my natural thinking and creation cycles, rather than fight ‘em? And what times of the day am I most organically creative? Listening to Jonathan, I realize I don’t really know my daily thinking/creation cycle all that well.createLike Jonathan, I have a peak creative window late at night, say from 9 or 10 pm and a few hours onwards. If I am still up by then, and there’s something to get done, boy, can I ever get it done, and with good quality at that.

But what – or rather, when – is my daytime creative window? Hm. I don’t really know. Have gotten into a somewhat lethargic routine on mornings when I don’t have to be somewhere at a set time, with a social media-session (that usually lasts much longer than the 15 minutes I aim at…), my daily Headspace meditation, doing my Seven exercise and then making a green smoothie, drinking it while reading the news paper and completing my daily Sudoku. And you know what? Nice as these slow mornings are, there is something within me wanting to come out, that isn’t. I’m not helping myself by structuring my days in a way that helps me get it out. Running more on mood than anything else?

I read someone who said they preferred to give people a hand up rather than a hand out. And that’s what popped into my mind now. How can I give myself a hand up to actually work with my natural creative windows? Making the most of them, if nothing else because it’s enjoyable?

Day 9 NaJoWriMoPrompt: Important or Special Numbers In Your Life

Numbers are very powerful in life. For today’s prompt, write about at least three or four different numbers that have special meaning for you. Examples include: a special year, a particular age, a specific time, a grade level number, a dollar amount, or a number of days.

Numbers.

So. Special numbers. Or rather. Numbers with a special meaning to me. Hm. Am I that attached to numbers? Not so sure, actually. But of course, based on happenings on a specific date, or year, it’s easy to place extra meaning upon those numbers.

Like the number seventeen. I do like the number seventeen. I’m born on the seventeenth. As is my youngest son. And my bonus-son, at that. I remember at school, always picking the number 17 if there was a number to pick. Me and hubby even got married on the 17th. Guess who picked that date?

As a teenager and young adult, I had a certain fascination with the year 2000. I wanted to have a baby that year, thinking it would be so cool to always know one’s aged, based on the current year. Turns out, I opted for the even cooler 1999, having one foot in two millennia.

numbersMy fascination with numbers actually has more to do with keeping track, logging, one after the other, increasing whatever I am tracking by one. And this is something I’ve done since I was a child. I kept track of all the books I read from January 20th 1986 until my son was born in October of 2004. I logged incoming and outgoing letters for a huge chunk of my life, but I think I let that particular habit go way before the book-logging-habit was kicked. Today, I’m logging the number of days in a row I’ve done my Seven exercise (458 days today) as well as my Headspace meditation (460 in total, but missed a day 179 days ago…). I have a certain affinity to numbered challenges (such as #NaJoWriMo for instance) where I know how long it will run and I do prefer when it is done on a daily basis. And even though I don’t keep track of my blog posts the way I did the first year of blogging, I do aim at daily blogging, which has now rendered me the proud publisher of 1063 posts on this blog. (This will be the 1064th.)

So. Numbers. This is what I came up with.
What about you – any numbers with special meaning in your life?

Day 8 #NaJoWriMoPrompt: Write About Your Creative History

For today’s prompt, write about your past in relationship to creative expression. What are your earliest memories of being creative? Describe some great opportunities or missed opportunities for creative expression? What do you think helped or hindered you from being creative? Do you have creative people in your family? How have they inspired you? These are general questions. Write about the topic and see where it leads you. Happy journaling.

My creative history. Wow. That feels like a massive assignment. Especially since the Create the impossible-course I took at the beginning of the year, which made me realize that there is (an opportunity for) creativity in everything, even something as mundane as making dinner is a creation.

My earliest memories…. ah, I honestly I have no clue. But, my maternal grandmother taught me to crochet (and later on to knit as well), and I do remember being at kindergarten an crocheting endlessly long threads from a ball of yarn. Rolled it into a skein, and voila, had myself a new ball of yarn, in a manner of speaking, to start all over again. So I crocheted yet another endlessly long, but slightly thicker, long thread, from the initial endlessly long crocheted thread. Think I might even have repeated the same procedure yet once again. Limited use for long crocheted threads most definitely, but I did create. And I might have been around 4 or 5, I’m guessing. There’s remnants of other kindergarten creations still remaining at my mom’s place. Various ornaments for Christmas and Easter for instance.

wrist warmersAs I’ve written about before, I think my creativity has, to a large extent, been expressed using my hands, in handicrafts. When I think about creativity, that is where my mind goes first of all. And perhaps there’s a bit of a need for results and usefulness in my thoughts around creation, for myself. I create something which is needed, or desired, or that which is useful. Like the wrist warmers I’m wearing right this instant. I knitted them a few years ago, when the urge to create something with my hands grew within, until I couldn’t contain it anymore, and dug out needles and yarn from my various hiding places… Having a set end goal in mind, I started to create them, working without a pattern, but knowing what I wanted them to become, once finished.

I wonder if that’s a bit of a hindrance I’ve imposed upon myself: there must be a need, an end-result that can be put to use? Have I ever created just to create? For the sake of making it? Without any hidden agenda, a lack of purpose? Just. To do it. Nothing more. Nothing less. I don’t know.

I mean, even my blogging is to a certain extent purpose-driven. I blog with the intention to get my thoughts and ruminations down on paper, making them come alive outside of my head. So… How do you do it, when you just create, for creation’s sake itself? I honestly don’t know. Do you?

Podcast 46/52 – An act of rebellion

On Being.
Krista Tippett in conversation with Parker Palmer and Courtney Martin.
Topic: The inner life of rebellion.

At this point in time, a time of terror and natural disasters, war and tyranny, people fleeing from their home and countries, from death and destruction…. holding onto hope is a challenge. A struggle. Not always easy. But I stick with it. I stick with my hope of a better world, for all. With the knowing, deep within me, that the path of love is the path ahead, towards that world, which is better for each and every one. In times like these, holding onto hope is an act of rebellion.act of rebellion

This is the essence of this podcast. Holding onto hope. Parker Palmer and Courtney Martin remind me of the path I’ve chosen in life. The path of love.

Does that mean I never despair? Dread? Fear? Hate?
No. I feel it all. It’s a part of the human experience.
But I cannot, will not, let those emotions become the main route of my life.

That is not how I want my life to play out, focusing on those feelings, the feelings of despair, dread, fear, hate. It’s not what I chose. So when those feelings show up, I see and acknowledge them, I don’t shy away from them, but I have the choice not to dive headfirst into them, and that’s most often the choice I make.

Trying to avoid falling for the siren’s call of the cynic, the sarcastic, the pessimistic and the negative. Instead, I try to listen to the love, the creativity, the compassion and the positive. Simply, because it makes my life more enjoyable. That’s my act of rebellion. Holding onto hope, believing in and living my life out of love and light.

What is your act of rebellion?

 

What is reality?

Reality. The stuff, the world; that which we live in. Right?

Or.
Is it perhaps what I make of the world I live in? Am I shaped by reality? Or do I shape my reality?

What do I bring, to the experience I have of the world? My world, rather than The world?

How do I warp the reality into my reality just by having myself be the filter that everything I take in, gets filtered through?

I don’t know precisely what my filter adds to reality as I perceive it. I don’t need to. But knowing That my filter adds to reality, as I know it, is crucial. Understanding this, means I know that no other person on earth can have the exact same experience of the world as I have. No one. Everyone has their own unique filter, through which we take in that which we live in.

So the next time you and a friend talk about a shared experience, and you cannot understand how your friend says X happened, even though you know for a fact it was Y. This is the reason. You both took in the facts of the situation through your personal filter. It’s a bit like applying a filter on a photograph in Instagram. The starting point is the same, but the result can be just about anything, an endless diversity.

Given that – what is reality, really?

Your writing has improved

Your writing has improved, she said.

And I agree. I can feel it, experience it, as I write. But also as I go back a year, two, three, to revisit what I wrote back then. My writing has definitely improved, it’s getting better and better, and what I notice is how it’s taking on it’s very own tone and voice. My tone and voice, something that has never before been expressed and explored like it is now. Taking shape before my eyes, the lines, colors, texture of it gradually coming into being, letter by letter, word by word.

The tone and voice of the books I read (and I am an avid reader!), is something I give thought to. If the tone doesn’t reverberate within me, I put the book down (something which I never allowed myself to do before when I was still oh so harsh against myself. If I’d started to read it, I couldn’t be a quitter…. Oh Helena, how harsh you were…). Pick another. Start to read. Going for a book that vibrates in tune with me.

That vibration doesn’t have anything to do with the topic, or whether or not it’s fiction or non-fiction, No, it’s the use of words, how they are placed on the paper, the pace of it, sometimes who the speaker is, and how he/she speaks to me. There are writers whose tone I love, and those that I just cannot get myself to read.

And my tone is slowly growing, with each word I pen, with every blog post I publish (as well as those I don’t…), slow and steady, a blog piece a day, I am honing my skill at writing. The beauty of blogging is that it’s visible, my journey as a writer is there for all to witness, including me.

As I’ve revisited my blog posts of years gone past, I’m getting the feeling there are topics I’d like to get back to, write about, again, to see what I might be able to do with the same topic today, as a slightly better writer than before.

Better and better….

Don’t misinterpret me, to think I am judging what I used to do, as no good. I’m not. I am merely stating facts. There has been a shift, and hence, what I write today is, in my view, most often of a higher quality than before. But I am not judging myself for having been a bad writer before. No. I merely rejoice at the progression I notice, and take pride in it. Patting myself on the back, for sticking with it, for growing, developing, finetuning and honing my craft.

We all have to start from the beginning, learing the alphabet, to read and write…. and then, gradually, as we learn more and more, as we receive formative feedback, what we produce when writing evolves.

I am happy I’ve rediscovered writing, so that my writing also started it’s very own expansion journey. My writing was at a stand-still for many many years, hibernating, in a state of being neither here nor there, neither alive or dead.writing

But now. It’s alive again.
Out of hibernation. Expanding.

It’s the most wonderful feeling.
You know it too?