I have just read the first chapter of James Twyman‘s new book Love God and the Art of French Cooking. It’s about a French chef, Roger, living in Canada, talking to James about life. He has a very mystical perspective on what food means and what it means to cook and eat. So far, the book seems interesting. Anyway, this reminded me of an experience I had, couple of years ago, that I wrote about on my Facebook notes and I thought of posting it here too.

I also find food, eating, sharing and preparing it a spiritual experience and can carry much more meaning and importance than we usually tend to see or appreciate. Something ordinary can truly be something extraordinary and magical. So I will share my experience I wrote over two years ago:

The magic of breaking bread in ordinary life

Couple of evenings ago, I had dinner with my daughters. My boyfriend wasn’t home, so it was just the girls and I. It was a regular evening with every day chores like homework, cooking, talking and dealing with the laundry. It was nothing out of the ordinary. The girls came from school in the afternoon; each of them had a friend with them. For those of you who don’t know about it, I have two daughters, Tanja who is 15 years old and Tiina who just turned 11. I gave all of them a helping hand with their homework and afterwards they talked about why some people (read friends and foes) are dumb and some aren’t. But they did it in the context of gossiping. And of course in the native language of teenagers, mind you, with no full sentences and a lot of abbreviations with the fast-forward button activated. Tiina and her friend did their best to keep up with the two older girls’ words and slang. It’s an interesting ride to be part of teenagers’ conversations about life, love, fears, friends, foes and secret emotions. I love it. I took part with all my presence I could muster.

The conversation passed over to more serious things; like that many young people don’t feel they have an adult to deeply confide in. My daughters and their friends shared their inner thoughts that made me feel honoured. I know that at a certain age you, as a parent, may not be the first to hear what your children think, does and/or feels on a deeper level. Most of teenagers walk and talk in herds, busy defining themselves and rolling their eyes, letting you know that your comments are lame, so not up-to-date and having the habit of answering with monosyllabic words. They think that adults are a strange species that show no understanding. That maybe true, but I’m a person who believes that children need to be listened to, often and honestly, on their terms. So when moments like this come up, I try to do what I can to take part and be present.

Anyway, when my girls’ friends left and it was time to prepare dinner, homemade soup and loaf of French bread, my daughters lingered in the kitchen and talked to each other. Tiina had got a book about puberty from Tanja earlier that morning and started to read. When we sat down to eat, she continued to read, as nobody else was present. We don’t usually read while we’re eating, not in company anyway, so I asked her if she could share what she read. She started to ask questions about growing up, puberty, sexuality, how I had felt during that time of my life and how Tanja felt about it now. The questions were so sincere and at the same time so truth-seeking that I realised it was a powerful momentum of transformation for her. It was a moment of reverence, for the continuous journey from childhood to adulthood through adolescence. It was a calling to be mindfully present to the circle of life. Tanja and I exchanged looks and somehow both of us intuitively knew that it was an important moment that linked us close. After a few minutes talk, Tiina closed her book, seemingly content with our answers, and said she was going to put the book away for the rest of the evening in a special place in her room. When she came back to the dinner table, she sat down and suddenly said:

-“Mum, at this very moment I feel safe growing up. I feel seen ”. Tanja and I stopped eating and just looked at her. “And do you know why? Because I have what I need ”, she continued and smiled. “I’m happy to hear that, sweetie” I answered. I felt very moved by her words. The love I felt for my children at that moment is beyond description.

There were two pieces of the loaf of French bread left and all of us wanted to have one more piece. Tiina asked her big sister if they could share the bigger piece, so I could have the smaller. She agreed and we shared the bread in silence. I sat there and watched my daughters share the bread after having passed intimate thoughts on and I felt blessed. The energy in the room was electrified and yet so calm. A deep serenity surrounded us and we were so emotionally close to each other.

I’m a person who regards that food isn’t just the necessary chemistry to keep your body healthy and alive. Food helps people to talk and celebrate and in its best it brings people together and fills up the soul. The simple soup and the loaf of French bread symbolically filled our souls that evening.

I think we tend to miss to provide for these moments to emerge in our ordinary life, because we are so busy making up other plans, so busy moving forward and looking at the future or the past that the present is an absent perception. Yet the present moment is always there, a constant flow of Now that will move toward the past and still be something that arrives from the future. Our conversation made me aware that we should do our best to live through our hearts. Share each other’s company. Enjoy life. Seek deep and ordinary pleasures. Eat in such a way that everyone is invited to your table. Something ordinary can turn into something extraordinary.

Therefore I perceived, and still do, my dinner with my daughters a couple of evenings ago, in every aspect of it, as a - Holy Communion.

What ordinary experience(s) do you find extraordinary in your life? Please share your thoughts below as it can be an inspiration to others to take to heart.

I was nominated by my writing friend Denise Ureña, to participate in My 7 Links and am so humbly grateful that she thought my writing is worth sharing. I am new to blogging, even though not to writing, and have only my posts from the Ralph Waldo Emerson writing challenge to choose from at this point. Different authors, bloggers and think leaders sent daily prompts every day for 30+ days to be answered and revolved around and honoured Ralph Waldo Emerson’s book Self-reliance. It was a month of deep self-reflection and a fantastic opportunity to connect with the writer-in-me and rely on my voice inside.

When I re-read what I have written, and the comments received, I fill up with gratitude with what we shared with each other. It’s naked and generous and in trust. Thank you, Denise for the nomination and thank you all for reading and commenting.

So the rules for the 7 links prompt is found here.

The categories are:

  • My most beautiful post
  • My most popular post
  • My most controversial post
  • My most helpful post
  • My post whose success surprised me
  • My post I feel didn’t get the attention it deserved
  • My post that I am most proud of

My most beautiful postAlive-est (day 28)

As the headline says it was a prompt about when I felt the most alive. It’s about my archery teacher’s lesson on how to become one with what is. One lesson was particular mystical and carried an answer – don’t hold on to the soul so tightly, it’s strong enough. It was a moment of revelation.

My most popular postFacing (and fearing) (day 19)

This one wanted me to explore trusting intuition and making difficult decisions and is a three-part question. I found that The Voice of Ego mostly speaks louder than The Voice of Intuition and that I am facing the challenge of becoming a congruent person.

My most controversial postCall to arms (day 26)

I wrote a manifesto two years ago, and it’s my answer to this prompt. I call it Manifesto of Self. I am proud of it and believe it deeply. I don’t know if it’s controversial, but feel free to share.

My most helpful postWholly strange and new (day 16)

This post is very personal and was helpful to me to write. It’s about the moment I thought I went insane and was thrown into a thick, confusing darkness. It’s nothing I wish for others to experience, but it was the moment when I began to walk in different set of shoes.

My most successful postIntuition (day 23)

I am a storyteller and with this very inviting post I didn’t have to worry about “Oh, I have to write really smart stuff” and went fiction with it instead. I find my intuition to be very beautiful, strong and sheer at the same time. But the comments I got thrown off guard.

My most invisible postOrdinary (day 24)

With this post I went into the trap of expectation. Based upon the responses from the day before (see above) I hoped for the same kind of reaction and comments. But honestly I have no clue if the ‘lack’ of responses equals that it didn’t get attention.

My most proud postYou know (day 21)

I often feel I don’t fit in. I have an askew self-image and carry the archetype of The Ugly Duckling. I am constantly connected to what I call The Grid and have sometimes difficulties to discern what feelings are others or my own. Life has many facets and I have learned that what I know is that I don’t know.

And my nominees to My 7 Links are:

  • Sam Davidson with his blog samdavidson.net. Sam is a speaker, writer, and dreamer who tells stories that need telling in order to motivate others to change the things that need changing. Well worth the read.
  • Beth Turner Taggard with her blog livingaquotablelife.blogspot.com. Beth is Texas born, Kenya raised, single mum and a global citizen. She tells stories about herself, her childhood in Africa and her children in Arkansas. She vents. Often she rants. Sometimes she even bitches. She’s fun to read.
  • Maya Zaido with her blog animalwisdom.com. Maya is a true nature child. She is an educator, writer, leader and a speaker and helps people to live life to the FULLest. Enjoy her way of noticing life.
  • Janet Oberholtzer with her blog janetober.com. She is a true champion, a survivor and an inspirational motivator. She almost lost her life and leg. Now she is a runner, writer and a speaker. Her motto is: “because I can.” I admire her.
  • Talyn Khanbabyan with her blog gypsylightmuse.tumblr.com. She inspires through her stumblings and random musings. Her tumblr is a great way to start the day together with coffee or tea.

Enjoy the reading – my posts and others – I know I have. It was valuable to revisit the posts and reflect on the words and the thoughts behind them.

In’Lakesh.

fault and change

The challenge Day 32, by Carlos Miceli: [Think of all the things that are not working in your life. That job you don’t like, that relationship that’s not working, those friends that annoy you. Now turn them all on you. Imagine that everything that’s not working in your life is your fault. How would you approach it? What would you work on to change your life to the state that you want it to be?]

I must be myself. I cannot break myself any longer for you, or you. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

The devil may wear Prada, but I am rather naked than gutless.

   ”Could you come into my office, now?

I was abruptly disturbed from my daydreaming by the voice in the intercom speakers. It was the voice of my boss, an arrogant woman with a charisma of a black widow spider in heat.

   ”What now?”

I dragged myself out of the chair, out of the office room, out in the corridor and in front of the closed-door. My hands were shaking a bit and I hesitated to press the button under the name I hated – Ms. Agnes Halliwell, CEO. There was absolutely nothing “Agnes” about her. I knew her name meant “chaste or holy”. She talks about it every Christmas party when she has the speech of the year to the staff. And what about her surname – Halliwell? She was far away from a “well of holiness”. Ms Agnes Halliwell was a stinking puddle of envy, wrath and greed. Wonder what aspirations her parents had for her, did they feel touched by God to have a baby and how then could she grow up to become such a despicable person? She was a cold-hearted woman and most people I knew at work despised her. She degraded my colleague in front of the rest of us for no reason whatsoever than that she had the power to do it. I pulled myself together and pressed the button and the light showed green which meant I could enter.

Sit” she said and pointed to a chair in front of her desk and signed that I be quiet. She was talking on the phone at the same time with someone else and was upset and angry.

Now listen to me, I don’t care who did what to whom or if you just got the information five fucking minutes ago! You work for me and I am the one that feeds your disgusting little children. I want it fixed within the hour,” she ranted and I watched her walk back and forth in the room.

She was impeccably dressed; black tailor-made dress, white shirt, pearls in her ears, fantastic manicured French nails and high-heel black Manolo Blahnik shoes. A conspicuous woman, in deed, but she was made of stone. She never exercised compassion or kindness. I couldn’t remember if I had ever seen her smile. She was beautiful but such a pain in the ass. She hung up the phone, sat down and grabbed her bag and pulled up her lipstick and refreshed her lips with a flaming crimson colour.

Take a look at this. I want to hear your opinion” she said and threw a pile of paper on the desk. I picked up the pile and started to read a business report. It was about a business deal about an acquisition that had its flaws but all in all it showed a good and sound business model that with some adjustments could be great.

Time is money, you know. The deal is not happening so I want you to tell me whose fault it is. Whom am I going to hang for this poor execution?” she said and looked at me with a stone cold face. She wasn’t going to let me off the hook easily.

Excuse me?” I said and couldn’t believe what I just heard.

You heard me. Don’t play stupid. Whose fault is it? Who’s to blame?

I have heard about her interrogations and pestering before but I haven’t been called into her office myself.

Don’t stall. Give me an answer. Now.” she said and reached for her mobile phone that announced an incoming text message.

“What do you want from me? I don’t think it is only one person’s fault if something goes wrong” I said and wondered if she was going to eat me alive. I put down the papers on the desk and hoped that she was content with my answer. I looked at her and could tell that she wasn’t.

Do you have an idea what it takes to run this business? Do you have at least some brain cells in there?” she hissed and pointed to my head. She made me feel like a squeezed lemon. I tried to look firmly into her eyes without yielding but I couldn’t. I gave way to her hard glance. I picked up the report again and started to look through it. There were some irregularities in the presentation, but they were minor and could be adjusted with some calculation wizardry.

Why does everything have to revolve around fault and guilt?” I thought and looked at her again. I noticed that even if she was a beautiful woman, she had a sort of thin tight upper lip, which made it easy, with little imagination, to turn her into an old ragged witch with a wart on her nose. That picture almost made me smile and I felt for her at that moment. I saw a very lonely woman who assumed that to be powerful she had to use the tactics of coercion, to threaten with reprimands for anyone that opposed her or failed to carry out to her satisfaction. I filled up with unfamiliar self-assurance. She couldn’t make me inferior unless I let her. She was actually in need of anyone or me to give her power.

I do have brain cells and they tell me you are making an unnecessary assumption. You look at business as fault and entitlement. But mistakes can be rectified and success is relative. ” I said and surprised myself that I managed to sound so calm. I looked straight at her and put down the pile of paper. She stood still and looked at me with the same stone cold face she had all along.

Why does someone have to hang if the deal isn’t going to happen anyway?” I asked.

Because as long as one or two persons are held responsible for a mistake or misfortune in our business, the rest of the team can go home with illusion of happiness and come back tomorrow and be better workers than they thought they could be the day before” she answered without hesitation and sat down.

But that’s just scapegoat mechanism and isn’t sign of strong leadership. It’s just bullying. It’s scare tactics.” I said and anticipated her to start arguing. The intercom speaker crackled.

Ms Halliwell, there’s a call on line two

Debby, what is it you don’t get? I’m in a meeting. Take a message and don’t disturb me

Yes, Ms Halliwell. I am sorry, Ms Halliwell”. The speaker crackled again when the nervous secretary hung up.

Well, it’s interesting to hear what you think leadership is all about. Now let me tell you what I think” she said and stood up and walked around her desk and stopped in front of me. She had a malicious smile on her face. At least it was as close to a smile she would have I thought and felt uneasy having her so close to me. I was certain she could smell my growing nervousness. I was her prey and she got ready for the kill.

I don’t need people to like me. I need people to do as I say. I do business. I do it well. I make huge profits for the company. People get paid well. People are happy. But when things go wrong, and it always does. You’ve heard of Murphy’s law, haven’t you?”

Yes

Good. Then you know that if anything can go wrong, it will. So when it does, people need to see that they aren’t the ones that caused it but someone else. Then people can continue to be happy. So they obey and do as I say. I am the one that have to make that call. Strong leadership is the necessity to send someone to be hanged and held accountable for mistakes so the show can go on” she said. I knew she was uncompromising but I didn’t thought that she could be like a piercing winter storm on the tundra. She was relentless.

I think responsibility for one’s actions is important, but I can’t help but wonder how constructive ‘fault’ really is? At the end of the day, you are the one that is responsible for it all, for the company. So if someone fails, you fail. You think in terms of mistakes. What if the mistakes can be looked at as opportunities instead, opportunities to do better?” I said and watched her when she laughed out loud. It was a scornful laughter. I felt ridiculed but I decided to not yield into her bullying. She was pitiful.

Oh dear Lord, you are one of those. Do you really believe in an idealistic world where you’re in service for the betterment of others? People only serve for the betterment of them selves” she said and an air of attentiveness flew over her. She sat down and watched me.

There is a Chinese saying that says if you point a finger towards someone else, three point back to yourself” I answered after a while hoping she would get my metaphor.

Oh is that so? All I have to say to that is only if you believe in mumbo jumbo like that.” she said and leaned back in her chair. She looked like this amused her; as if it has been a long time she had a hunt like this, a prey that actually gave her a fight. I felt as if I just was bit by a venomous spider and could only wait for the paralysis to kick in.

Are you going to proclaim it’s my fault then?” I said and felt my courage disappear. It seemed I had nothing to gain by trying to resist her habitual accusations and blame games.

Oh no, that would be too easy and no fun at all. No, my sweet Ms. Clueless, you are going to do the finger-pointing for me. You will step into my shoes.” she said and for the first time I saw her actually smile. My god, even her teeth were white, straight and immaculate. Her soul, however, was suppressed to the extent that it seemed totally absent. Then I felt a flood of tremendous force, a courage and strength I haven’t felt before. I stood up and straighten my back.

No, I won’t. I will not point out a person to carry fault and blame alone so the rest of us can pretend everything is okay and fine. That’s your ball game. Not mine. When I walk out the door, I will never come back. And I feel for you, you know. You are one of the loneliest persons I have ever met. You carve your name in marble because you don’t know what a heart is. I will leave you with one thought to ponder, when you die, and you will, who will attend your funeral and from their heart say they miss you because you were such a loving and caring person. Who?

I turned around and walked out the door. I was tempted to look back to have a last glimpse of her to see her reaction. But I didn’t. I knew she was knocked right out off her Manolo Blahnik shoes.

Fault turns easily in to a blame game. Human societies are founded upon myths of sacrifice, to hold a complex structure of power together, so we habitually oppose force upon another. As long as the receptive community accepts it, the balance of power is kept even if one side lose more than the other. It goes something like this: “If you do work for me and serve the needs of the greater group (like a workplace) I will protect you and what you produce”. The scapegoat mechanism is part of that power exchange. If something goes wrong, force of coercion is used to keep people on track and remain in power. Hence someone has to ‘pay’ and made into a scapegoat and held responsible for the misfortune, and that scapegoat will carry the fault alone and relieve the larger group from the burden.”

I read a wonderful short novel “They that leave Omelas”, by one of my favourite writers Ursula Le Guin, on which I took the inspiration for this prompt. In that she writes about an invisible child that has to suffer awful abandonment, isolation and cruelty for the sake of the village’s happiness. The inhabitants were aware of the child, but thought as long as that one child carried fault, guilt and blame they could continue to live in blissful ignorance. But there were a few people, who couldn’t bare the knowledge of placing guilt upon one single child, and left the village to never return. They chose to enter the uncomfortable but liberating realm of responsibility of one’s Self and one’s actions.

So I don’t think fault is constructive. Mistakes are lessons in disguise. Do I place blame and fault upon others? Yes, sometimes I do and on myself too. Because my narrow-mindedness makes me believe I see the whole story. But however I justify the fault, or what I believe I am right about, never makes me happy. It always leaves me aware of my ignorance. It takes a lot to have 360° vision but I work to have one. I believe that what might be one man’s vulnerable wilderness is another man’s theme park. Fault never tells the whole story. But if we change our view or at least have the courage to hear other versions of a story we might get a wider perspective.

 

fear of vulnerability

”I need the chance to climb out from the place I was born in.” 

I write this because of a question and comment I got from a friend in my #Trust30 post about overcoming uncertainty. She wrote in her own post about how fear dictates many of our choices and is the cause to so much negativity and destruction. She wondered if it made sense to me, and yes it does. But the comment got me thinking about fear, vulnerability and my relationship to it and I want to share that.

This post’s headline is a line from a movie I watched the other week on TV called ”The story of Liz”. It was a true story about a girl who grew up with addictive parents, her mother was schizophrenic too and eventually both her parents died of aids. She didn’t go to school, ran away all the time, rejected authority and was eventually homeless. And yet she was trapped in the world she lived in. She had an utterly awful childhood. But after her mother died and she had nothing else to lose, she decided to study, to re-define herself and said to the principal when she tried to get accepted into school – “I need the chance to climb out from the place I was born in”. She got the chance at age 15 or 16 and it changed her life. It’s as I wrote in my post about my Tramp vs. Faithfaith isn’t faith until that’s all we hold on to. But it can be excruciatingly hard.

The more fearfulness we feel, the more we diminish and can get trapped in our history and our past, unable to anticipate the future and be in the present. We become hostage of our wounds. Don’t misunderstand me, when we are victims of awful wrongdoings, we often feel powerless. It’s not easy to set healthy self-protective boundaries in those situations. What we usually choose then is to shut down. We disconnect with our Self, so we can ‘endure’ the intolerable situation until it stops. We begin to think of ourselves as worthless – worth less than the perpetrator. So yes I also believe fear is the prime motivation for negative thoughts and patterns.

And here is also what I believe: fear patterns block healing. As an intuitive alarm system it warns of loss, failure, danger and potential wounds. But to live constantly in fear of the unknown and/or with a person that hurts us physically, psychologically and spiritually, disrupts what keeps us grounded and healthy. To feel we are victims of forces that can inevitably destroy us, creates a state of chronic alarm that suppresses our life-force. If we don’t find a way out of the fear, we will move into darkness and stagnation. We become sick and can’t detach ourselves enough from our ‘wounded’ history. We will carry a feeling of being ‘dead’ as my #Trust30 friend wrote about.

I’m not saying that fears are easy to overcome. That all we have to do is to ‘look’ fear in its eyes and then it’s all over. But there is no other way around it than to face it. When our wounds trap us and drag us down the swamp of humiliation and worthlessness, we re-live our wounds and it’s easy to start self blame and believe it’s our fault what happened to us. We constantly repeat the fearful and incomprehensible situation internally. That is a choice, even if it’s an unconscious one, and doesn’t serve our healing and is hard to get out of. Because we want to know ‘why’ it happened. We go over the trauma again and again trying to find answers, trying to understand the inconceivable. And it may never be answered, hence the difficulty to heal and not let the experience define our self – image. What happens to us is out of our control, but how we deal with it isn’t.

So fear drains us, and can suck the life out of us if not dealt with and it demands soul work, courage and stamina to deal with our wounds. When we let fear determine our choices it’s detrimental to our souls, because we don’t trust ourselves, we give away power to outsides factors to run our lives for us. Healthy relationship with fear means, to me, that we allow it be part of our lives, as a friend that lets us know that we are about to lose our power. Lose the power to act, power to choose, power to stand up for what we believe is right, power to live our lives accordingly to our hearts. Dr Mona Lisa Schulz says: “There are five basic emotions or feelings. There are the positive ones that nobody complains about having – love and joy, and the negatives that give us discomfort at times – fear, anger, and sadness.” The negative emotions are as important as the positive. All of them form our emotional energetic makeup and put together as agile as possible, it’s a fantastic compass for life. Without it we wouldn’t experience who we are and can become. We need to learn how to wax on and wax off, as Mr Miyagi says in the movie Karate Kid.

My spiritual mentor and I talk about wounds and vulnerability often. He says that I can’t cover up my heart and say I am strong at the same time. I used to equal vulnerability with weakness and powerlessness. I thought I had to be ‘strong’ and not vulnerable. I feared my vulnerability because then I exposed myself for potential injury and sadness. And the way to deal with that fear was to detach myself from anything close to deep emotions and/or to show them. I always seemed ‘rock-solid’. I was wrong. Vulnerability is the core of love, strength and courage. And yes, it’s connected to fear too. That’s why we to turn back to subordination, candy, alcohol, shopping, minimising ourselves or whatever the flavour of anaesthesia we prefer, so we won’t have to deal with it. Vulnerability is about the ability to be wounded and NOT fear it; to believe that we somehow will come out whole on the other side, that we are strong enough to be ruled by our hearts. It doesn’t have to be comfortable or even positive, but if I am wounded and believe I can heal, I am compassionate as a saint and strong as a soldier, as Caroline Myss (my Sacred Contract teacher) would say.

I come to think about a brilliant TedX talk I listened to last year, where Dr Brené Brown talks about vulnerability. So I post it here, as a closing argument for that fear is part of our intuitive system and that through our hearts we have access to the courage to express who we are – vulnerable and worthy. What we need is the chance to climb out from the place we got stuck in.

In’Lakesh, people – [I am another you and you are another me]

image

The bonus? challenge Day 31, by Matthew Stillman: [Mess up your hair. If you are wearing makeup – smudge it. If you have a pair of pants that don’t really fit you – put them on. Put on a top that doesn’t go with those pants. Go to your sock drawer. Pull out two socks that don’t match. Different lengths, materials, colours, elasticity […] Take a picture. Get ready to post it online. Are you feeling dread? Excitement? Is this not the image you have of yourself? Write about the fear or the thrill that this raises in you? Who do you need to look good for and what story does it tell about you? Or why don’t you care?]

Ministry of Self Reliance

Seriously, is this woman really an aspiring writer?! @2010 T. Jorgensen

All of us misunderstand and are misunderstood. If not by others, so help me God, by our selves. We don’t have to be geniuses to be and do that. Take this prompt for example; Trust30 says 30 days of writing, so yesterday was a closure for those of us that had reached challenge 30. We said our goodbyes and complimented each other for having ‘hung in there’ and some felt, as yours truly, exhilarated to have started to see them selves as a writer prospect.

This morning I stretched out in my bed with a fantastic image of myself. “Goddamn, I feel good about myself. I had actually done it; I wrote for 30 days in a row and enjoyed every bit of it. I got out of bed, had breakfast, and started to write about my next post, which was a sort of answer to a comment I got on one of my posts. I wrote and I wrote and then I felt the urge to see what the Ralph Waldo Emerson site said about the project.

What? Another prompt?” What can I tell you, I felt stupid (Don’t I know how to count?!), then a bit annoyed (don’t THEY know how to count?!) and then rebellious (nope, I am NOT going to write about this!) and then rather entertained (Is this The Domino Project’s way to let us know that they are great and so are we, because we misunderstood?) Don’t know and frankly don’t care that much either, I am in a writing spree, so shoot, “Let’s write!” I feel very self-reliant while I write this. :)

Take a picture?!” Well, my self-image is VERY differentiated, it depends on what mood I’m in: goofy / funky / ugly / sexy / totally undesirable / beautiful / tall / short / fat / thin / funny / boring / intelligent / stupid / young / old / all / nothing / alien / human… I wouldn’t know where to begin. I have no trouble to look silly, be silly, act silly, talk silly and even walk silly, if I am in the mood. Life is too short to not have fun, as they say. True, but sometimes we aren’t able to play. As I’ve written before, my dark night of the soul is no fun or silly. But just for today, let’s seriously play! I will walk sillier, talk sillier, and look sillier so I can embrace the freedom of being capable to laugh at my self and others, not to humiliate or be humiliated but just to acknowledge I AM what I AM. So what if I am misunderstood or misunderstand?! I feel alive and it’s been a long time coming! In’Lakesh and let the fun begin!

Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

10 year text

The challenge of Day 30, by Tia Singh: [Imagine your future self, ie, you 10 years from now. If he/she were to send you a tweet or text message, 1) what would it say and 2) how would that transform your life or change something you’re doing, thinking, believing or saying today?]

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

Thanks Me! I was spirited away by this writing event and shown my talents. I know that nothing can be hidden in the light, so I will continue to write and do what I can until my destiny is revealed. I am another you – In’Lakesh :)

 

 

 

overcoming uncertainty

The challenge of Day 29, by Sean Ogle: [Write down a major life goal you have yet to achieve or even begin to take action on. For each goal, write down three uncertainties (read: fears) you have relating to each goal. Break it down further, and write down three reasons for each uncertainty. When you have three reasons for your fear, you’ll be able to start processing the change because you know where the fear stems from. Now you’ll be able to make smaller changes that push you towards your larger goal. So begins the process of “trusting yourself.”]

© Adam Hughes "Snowbunny Padme and Yoda"

I read a quote somewhere (I forgot who it was, sorry!); ”Fear is just growth coming to get you”, and what I add to that quote is that fear is part of our intuitive system which resides in our right brain and should be listen to. Note, I said listen to, not ruled or governed by fear. To succumb to fear can be very paralysing, but perceived as a guide it’s a great teacher, if we dare to listen. Most of our experiences are about personal growth. I have found myself in absolutely fearful situations where fear is an adequate reaction, but mostly my fear portrays my resistance against change.

It’s not personal Mr Ogle, but I won’t jot down one major goal and attach 3 ‘fears’ and 3 ‘reasons’ for each fear to overcome whatever uncertainty I perceive. That’s enough of that in this #Trust30 challenge. Dark Night of my Soul will absolutely suffice in that respect. It’s not a major goal per se, but the profound knowledge and insights that comes with it is. Dark Night is all about confusion and uncertainty and one shouldn’t take it lightly, not at all. Anyone who experienced it knows what I talk about. I lived and breathed uncertainty, confusion and fear as almost palpable, and oh so insisting, friends in that type of darkness. I wanted to ‘die’, so I could live. It’s awful and is all-consuming and during this Ralph Waldo Emerson challenge I see that I have come a long way towards a new dawn. It’s a process and I think I’ll write a book instead or create a seminar, as a fellow writer suggested.

But what I will do, when uncertain and fearful, is to read my post ‘Alive-est’ again and again and say:   Getting wiser in my life I will

Nothing can bring you peace but yourself. Nothing can bring you peace but the triumph of principles. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

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