Temple Zen la Gendronniére

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temple zen la gendronnière

The year was 1992 and I was 20 years of age. I had just started university in Bergen, and in my spare time I was training the martial art iaido; “Japanese swordmanship”. We were about ten people, meeting for 4 hours every Thursday. The leader of our dojo was a very charismatic and inspiring man who studied law, philosophy and religion, master degree level. We spent those weekly hours doing kata, “patterns” with our samurai swords, practicing our kiai screams, and in many different ways challenging our egos and consciousness. If someone needed to cry in a corner for four hours, it was accepted and embraced. He or she would be left alone, offered to talk by our trainer, but not forced and not confronted harshly. It was an oasis for us young 20 somethings.

We didn´t aim towards new colours of belts. We aimed towards our knowing ourselves emotionally and spiritually. Often our trainer would sit and tell us stories about Buddha, Jesus, or an other great philosopher, switching on our appetite for learning from the great thinkers, and not least, switching on that part of us that recognized truth eccoing within when we heard it presented. No dogma. Only here, now. Nothing holy. Zensho Iaido, our club was called. Ground breaking years for me. I still have my hakama. (Samurai black trousers). I aquired the yellow belt. And when I one fine day get the money, I for sure will buy myself a samurai sword.

Our trainer had told us about an old zen temple in France where he had been. So that Summer, I went there. I was supposed to go together with one of the other guys in our group, but he dropped out. So I sat myself on that plane, 20 years old, no knowledge of the French language, and off I flew. The people seated next to me on the plane, helped me through the airport, on to a train to the trainstation… there I met a Spanish family, who brought me onto the train with them and dropped me off in a taxi in Blois, telling the chauffeur where I was going! Hahaha…. I wasn´t worried for a minute. I was just taken care of step by step, and never had time to stress about anything.

In the taxi, the driver and I chatted away using gesticulations. He asked me for how long I was going to stay at the temple. I told him “five days, ten fifteen, I don´t know!” We laughed….

When we arrived in the forrest there, it was pitch dark. I paid him and there I was, standing in front of a huge old castle like house… I went up the stairs, through the open door. Nobody. I left my luggage there, and went back outside. From a distance I could hear music! I thought do they really have neighbours near by? And started walking towards the sound… on a little path between palm trees… Now I could see some kind of light source… The music went “Give it away, give it away, give it away now…!” Red hot chilli peppers! I loved that album! I kept walking, and there. Between the trees. There was a bonfire, and around it sat skinheads! I hesitated for a sec, back home I was the leader of Sos Racism, and skinheads were far from my favourite kind of people… But these people greeted me with big smiles, so I walked closer. There was a hut behind them, a bar of some sort, it seemed…

“Hello,” they said. “Are you coming to the temple?” I nodded. “Welcome! We are having a little party tonight, as we are finished with ten very serious days of meditation.”
Oh…
Soon I had a glass of French beer in my hand, and was dancing bare feet in the sand by the bon fire. The entrance could not have been better!

I slept on a mattress on the floor upstairs in the dojo, on the women´s side. The gallery on the other side was for the men. It was the cheapest accomodation they had. And it was fine.

Every morning we woke up by a monk ringing a bell. Fifteen minutes later we all sat in lotus positions downstairs in the dojo. First there was buddhist chanting. Soothing to the mind. Then we just sat. First half, one of the four main monks gave a talk. Zen stories. Then we walked around in a circle for a bit. Second half of the zazen the big, big bell outside the dojo was rung, every ten minutes or so.

After meditation, we had breakfast. Women and men on separate tables. Chanting before starting, and same breakfast every day. A porridge one could put salt or sugar on. Tasted good.

After breakfast wee had “samoo”… work… some went to the field to pick onions etc, others cleaned bathrooms, others helped in the kitchen to prepare the meals of the day. I mostly helped out in the kitchen. All those delicious vegetables. Which they grew themselves. Wine was collected from a farmer near by, in buckets! Very exotic to Norwegian little me.

After work, we had a break, and after that a meal before more meditation, as I remember. We meditated 3 times a day, then after a week, 5 times a day… as I remember it.

In some evenings we could have wine in the forest tmple bar. We also had wine with dinner. Delicious dinners. Other nights, there was no alcohol. Then meditation took the main seat.

Zazen was nice for me and it was hard. It is actually very difficult to sit still first thing in the morning, for a long time, trying to empty your mind. And then again later in the day. And again.
I remember thinking, “Hey, I will save these thoughts until I´m sitting there!” … my mind saving up thoughts to be preoccupied with, during the time it was supposed to empty itself…hehehehe…
What can I say… I sat and I sat. And me staying there did change my inner self radically. It surely did. For the better and for ever. Actually.

I stayed for 12 days. The administration told me I could stay on, and pay them later! But I wanted to go home to my new boyfriend. Silly me. I wish I had stayed for another week or two. But yeah, I was only 20 and I was in love.

I was the youngest person there. And the only Norwegian. And one of the very few persons present that had not been there before. Most of the 250 temple guests had returned to la gendronniére many many times, Summer after Summer. It was the first zen temple in Europe, founded by the late Japanese man Taisen Deshimaru. His four main monks were now in charge of the zen temple.

What did I learn there? Many different things.
The most important of course being the experience of sitting still in meditation.
I learnt of Kyosaku, the asking for a monk to hit me on my shoulder with a flat stick, in order to help me either relax or wake up, regain equilibrium…
I enjoyed very very much the musicality of the bell, the chanting, the big Tibetan singing bowl, the sound of the head monk telling anecdotes in French which were then translated into English, in a very pleasant sounding melody and rhythm in addition to the content of the story…
I learnt in the evenings of friendship across languages, and that the French men´s flirtation was not to be taken too seriously… I learnt to take orders of “crepe avec beur et sucre”, and to find the right change for people when they paid across the bar there…
I also learnt something through two different confrontations I had with people there:

One, he was the gardener, a Canadian man in his 50s or so… Frank? I remember once skipping down the pathway after dinner, on my way to the bonfire and bar, and I was making up a song as I often do… some kind of rhyme, I don´t remember it now. I passed Frank, and he said to me that I was not allowed to sing like that. Because what was from the dojo belonged in the dojo and should not be brought outside of it. “But what about that nothing holy, no dogma – thing…?” I replied, bewildered. He asked me if I thought I was smarter than Taisen Deshimaru. Which was the end of that conversation. It felt like a punch in my belly. But it did not make me think that his opinion was more right than my own. Nothing holy. I like that.

Two, I was sitting in the dojo in meditation and my legs were hurting so bad in that lotus position. So I decided to sit in seisa, which is the samurai start position, sitting on one´s knees, ready like a cat to react if someone attacks. I was sitting there enjoying how this position allowed my body to be quiet so I could indeed focus on silencing my mind.
Then suddenly came a monk and hit me on the shoulder with his kyosaku stick!! Which I had NOT asked for. Normally you ASK to be hit. Or else they never hit you. But now he did!
Automatically, on reflex, I jumped down into lotus position.
He didn´t say a word, I just instinctively knew that´s what the issue was.
Beating heart. Shock. Meditation continued.
Afterwards, whilst we were all 250 of us finding our shoes to leave the dojo, the monk came storming up to me, he shouted at me “Why you not do zazen?! Why you not do zazen?!” I don´t remember if I answered him. It feels foggy. He was shaming me. Young as I was, I did not know that. Had it been today, he would have gotten a reply, and I would have gone to the main monks and asked what this behaviour was supposed to mean. Today I call such behaviour violence.

So those two episodes taught me something about authority. How some believe they have the right to correct others, in an unfriendly way. In the name of what? Of zen?! I do not accept it. I do not.

I include those two anecdotes here because I think they are important knowledge. Not to damage the zen temple. It was one of my life´s most important experiences. It really was. It shook me and woke me up. In more positive ways than negative.

The time I spent there, with myself. Is what I mean. That I was actually sitting there. Disciplined. Discovering my own resistance against it. And discovering how it became easier, and a layer of silence formed at the bottom of my inner self. A layer that I ever since have built on to.
I feel certain that I have spent time in temples before, in previous lifetimes. And I certainly would like to do it again as well. There is peace and freedom to find in a regulated daily routine. The meeting with oneself there, sitting. Trying not to think. It is … revealing … I learnt many new things about myself those 12 days in Temple Zen la Gendronniére in the Summer of 1992.

For many years after that, I wanted to go back, I longed to go back.
Then I met another man, and focus changed… but still. I still have those black and white photos we could buy, of the instruments in the dojo, and the veteran German soldier who always took his legs off before he sat down to meditate… I remember Muhammed from Marocco, and Francis Brown from London, and many others. I stayed in touch with some of them for years…and still hope to see them again some day…

Would I go back today? Yes. I would.
And I will recommend it to every human being who wants to dwell on and increase their ability to in essence feel presence.

Here Now
and U are a part of it.
Remember the importance of
to sit.

Let me end this post with a haiku poem from my book:

Zensho Iaido

Shiny, still mirror
Sword slashes the autumn storm
Smilingly quiet

& the original text, in my mother tongue Norwegian:

Zensho Iaido:

Blankt og rolig speil
Sverd spjærer høstorkanen
smilende stille

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My Listening Hut

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This is a short video from my Listening Hut. Which was built by a Swedish architect friend of ours, as a birthday present for me from my husband 3 years ago. It sits behind the apple tree in the back of our garden. 2 by 2 metres big. I go there for undisturbed thinking (at least undisturbed by external factors, haha), I go there to listen to silence, to write, meditate, listen to music, or just sit still and watch the blackbirds in the apple tree…

It is a sanctuary where my mothering can take a break. Where I can be just me, not a friend, wife, mother, neighbour, daughter or sister. Just me. Tuning into me. Spending time with me.

It may sound egotrippish. But I don’t see it that way.
If I don’t get time alone, I’m just not a nice person to be around. I need to connect with myself, centre my energy, in order to have energy to share with others.

It is such a joy to close that door behind me and sit down in the tiny sofa and just…. be.
Continue writing the story that is unfolding in one of my notebooks. Or make a poem in my journal. Sing along with Tibetan chanting monks. Or eat chocolate and write out sad or angry emotions, then put on some loud music from a mixtape made decades ago, and just feel the low energy be released, making room for fresh, more optimistic energy…

It is the best present anyone ever gave me.
My Listening Hut.
My precious treasure.
My place of peace.

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My Splendid Birthday

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I’m in my ListeningHut behind my garden’s appletree, Ben Harper keeping me company soundwise, in my worn light blue baggy jeans I have one birthday present in each pocket; one is a pendant for a necklace, rounded square shape, made of glass in Florida by a good friend. In the other pocket lie a pair of ear rings, with torquoise stones on them. Given me by another good girlfriend of mine, they are made in India and bought in Mexico.

It was my birthday yesterday, and as usual I was woken up by my husband, his guitar and our kids, plus a friend who was staying over, they were singing a Danish happy birthday song. I had chosen not to receive my presents then, because it was such a busy morning in my schedule. On Saturday, I will get the presents from the children and we will watch a movie or do something else enjoyable and relaxing together…

So I jumped out of bed (kind of, almost, in a way), and after a quick breakfast my girlfriend and I were on our way to the kindergarten where she right now for three weeks is hosting a music workshop for the kids. She brought her fagot and her Tibetan singing bowls. Very inspiring to watch her communicate with the little ones, drawing them all into the magical world of music…

After two groups of 12 children had been workshopped, we went home for lunch. Then picked up my kids, went shopping, then back home where I prepared a tuna salad in garlic yoghurt dressing for the evening’s party meal. A couple of hours later we drove to the local school and set up for her lecture, which she is also hosting these 3 winter Wednesdays. We were ten people, and the subject was “Ritualistic Music”. Wow. It could not have been a more interesting subject for me. And the talk was even more exciting and fascinating than I imagined. The audience was encouraged to participate, sharing their views, and the athmosphere was very… light hearted… warm and friendly… Although she is a top trained classical musician, the lecturer is blessedly free from facit answers, there is no wrong answer to things only personal equal viewpoints, and that attitide is so uplifting, no need to fear being told your view is incorrect… We had a splendid time. Truely exsclusive high quality lecture. I hope more institutions on the island will hire her, coz I want to hear more of what she has to share!

Some of the people in the audience were friends of mine, and one brought me a cake and presents!! Wicked… a cd with an artist I never heard of. Love to explore new music! Of course the cake was very popular, and I got a lot of hugs and a birthday song on the fagot… pretty decent. Way kool. 🙂

After the lecture, two of my best mates tagged along to my home, where we ate the tunasalad pitta together with my Man and the kids. After eating, I took my mates (one woman same age as myself and a young man I call my soul brother), I took them out into the ListeningHut, and we sat in here sharing bottles of wine, listening to my old minidisc mix”tapes”; Taj Mahal and the Hula Blues, Nina Simone, vintage reggae…
We ended up at my girlfriend’s in the end, as she had to replace her babysitter. One in the morning me and my young soul brother walked home through the mainstreet, not a single other person in sight there between the straw thatched little houses edging the cobble stoned street…

So that was my birthday celebration. Oh and I also had prsents in the mailbox. A book by Neal Donald Walsh from Katarina, and from my childhood’s best mate Linda I received home made towels and a hat, plus a dvd of a tv series with Ricky Gervais, whome I adore more than most others funny and wise people on this planet. Perfect presents for me.
And from my darling husband I got a massage table. For my sound healing sessions. He is my superduperstar.

I’m in my hut now, updating my blog whilst eating chocolates.
Yesterday was just such a kick. I LOVE lectures. And I LOVE music. And I LOVE spirituality. And friendship. So to have a friend give a lecture on ritualistic music… It’s like… It’s unlike anything I can describe, I’m sitting here realizing. It’s one of those things where I just shake my head in disbelief, with a huge grin on my face. PURRRRRR…. fect, I would say, if I was a cat. Which maybe I am in some metaphorical way, why not.

I told my three kids I want to open their presents on Saturday, when we have time to dwell and enjoy without me running after a clock for some external reason. They totally just accepted that without a question. So now I look forward to Saturday morning, where no doubt they will wake me up with a birthday song again, and I will be covered in presents and happy children.

I sit here with gift jewelry in both of my light blue jeans pockets. Feeling grateful. 203 people have greeted me on Facebook yesterday. Such an overwhelming wave of loveliness.

Lucky is my middle name.
Life is not always easy.
But what hasn’t killed me has made me stronger.
I’m still alive, health is good.
I have inspiration and laughter in my life.
And a whole lot of love.
Truely wealthy.
That’s me.

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Not Big Bot Band

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It’s been a busy week, with no blogging time. Meetings in two ngos I’m a part of, and organizing a music workshop/talk. On top of that, it ended with Saturday being spent in a house in the countryside. Together with my husband’s bigband. They were having their annual big meeting, summing up the passed year’s activities etc. And a few of us life partners tagged along. The meeting was held in one of the musicians’ home. While the band held their meeting, the rest of us finished the preparations in the kitchen. Big delicious meal. We like good food.

My husband created the band 20 years ago. For students of pedagogics in a college university where he works as a music teacher. He is the conductor in the band, and he finds songs and makes arrangements/notes for all the different instruments. 18 members as we speak. Some of the members have been in the band for many many years. Others are new, some quit after a handful years. When they have played enough gigs, they go travelling together. Partners and kids are welcome to join them on their trips. They have been to Norway, Cuba, Florida, Spain… I have been on two trips with them.

But here now I just want to say something about Saturday. I want to point out how special that group is. When we meet we are always so happy to see eachother. As we have f.ex.spent a week in a house with a pool in Spain together last easter. We have shared so many fun experiences, many meals, and loads of evenings singing and playing guitar together, somewhere warm and lovely.

So we met, and hugged, and it felt just like we were back again to the last time we were hanging out together. Us in the kitchen caught up on eachother’s life events whilst chopping and stirring stuff, and then their meeting was finished and we were all to share the great meal in the renovated barn that they have turned into a party space. Oh do I fancy a barn like that! Long long wooden table, green sofa group in one corner, stereo, drums, keyboard, guitars, separate smoking area… plenty of dancefloor…

We sat down at the table, and everyone had brought their own favourite drinks, whilst the food was paid for by the band. We chatted away with the people we were seated next to. When food was finished, some went for a cigarette, people swapped seats, some tidied up in the kitchen…. things get organized without needing leadership, people just tend to help out and get things done. It’s a lot like in a family, really. 22 members big.

The evening developed as it normally does. A lot of laughter, a LOT of singing, everybody joining in, harmonizing endlessly, the guitars go between different players… hand drums appear… you dance for a while, you go sit with the smokers and share some laughs…you go sit next to someone new…
Very relaxed and easy, everyone daring to sing out loud,
everybody being polite and nice to each other.

Why is it so special, you might ask. This is like any other party. Well, to me it isn’t. Most of the people there, I don’t see regularly, only in the context of the band. We are not close everyday friends. We are very different people, too. Agewise we are from 20s to 60s. We have different interests snd ways about us, some of them I connect deeply with whilst others remain more distant…. and it’s fine, it’s part of the fascination for me. It’s a lot like family actually, just that we are all in it volunteerily, and we share this great big common interest; music.

Most of the people left around two that night, picked up by friends in cars, filling up to the rim, being brought back to town from this farmhouse in that little village. I stayed up until half past three, listening to cds, discussing the lyrics… I was just exhausted then, and was happy to spend the night there in their kids’ room. The last three partymembers stayed up until five!

A very typical Not Big Bot Band night, everybody jolly and merry after many hours of singing improvized harmonies together. No pressure, no stress, no harsh words, no drama. Just enjoyment of good food and drink, music, dancing and talks, in a totally relaxed manner where people feel they can be themselves and be accepted and appreciated as they are.

I’m hoping to bring the kids along to a couple of the band’s events this spring, one is a gospel concert where they play together with a gospel quoir, the other event is a carnival march with school and kindergarten children.

Yeah. Not Big Bot Band. A big deal in my life. One big happy musical friends-family. It doesn’t have to be blood ties to feel familiar. It is one of my favourite communities, that I belong to. I wish everyone in the world were connected to a group in this way. I’m sure it would make the world a happier and more jovial, peaceful place. Actually.

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Tips on Writing

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Started this Saturday morning with looking through my comments. Found out a lot of it is spam. So I pressed Unapprove, but nothing seemed to happen. Pressed Trash and it went away. Then I searched for a plugin “spam filter”, and it is now installed. So hopefully I can spend my time on the genuine comments from real people instead of trashing endless lists of links to shops or whatever it is.

A few of the comments are about how to start a blog.

I have replied to a handful of them, but let me just say it here to everyone; I use WordPress. It is very easy to download / install or what it´s called (Says my husband who did it for me!)  And free. The design, as you can see, is wonderful. Many themes to choose from.  I chose the colour scheme with a simple tick in a box! And my site loads very fast in most browsers. Some say it doesn´t work that well in IE. I don´t know how to fix that. I basically know very little about blogging. My husband set it up through my domain where I have an old homepage. And then I just started writing posts. Instant gratification. 🙂

Writing. That I do know a little about. Many of the comments from you readers have been about whether I have tips for aspiring writers. So I thought, ok, let that be the title of today´s blog post. Here goes:

I have been writing since I was four and a half years old. Age six I had saved up enough money to buy myself a desk! For christmas age eight I got a typewriter (before they became electric). So. It has been a passion of mine since…. birth or beyond. Probably I have been writing my way through many lifetimes. As a munk in Nepal, for example, copying buddhist scriptures by hand. I don´t know. It wouldn´t surprise me, though.

Tips.

Fingertips. Is the first word that springs to mind, and so I allow it through. Not knowing what to do with it next but resting assured that my fingertips will type their way into some kind of meaningful combination of letters…

What I am trying to picture by that, is. When I write, I silence my mind. I listen within, to what COMES to mind. Then I go with the flow.

So my advice would be to meditate. Focus on your breathing to still your mind. You can´t hear your heart when your mind rambles on. That self critic is also a tough one to get passed. That inner voice that says: “This isn´t good enough. Who do you think you are?!”. Silence it. It is not your friend, it is anti helpful, a voice of fear. Don´t let it be the ruler of your writing. (Two lines underneath that conclusion. Haha. With the ruler used as a ruler).

I have gone to maybe a dozen of writing workshops in my life. When they have crossed my path, I have attended them, and learnt a lot about where to find inspiration, what tools and rules to use in poetry writing, one has to know them to go beyond them, I reckon… I did courses on screenplay writing and short film script writing, a course in creative writing when I lived in Bahrain, poetry writing classes in Bergen, and a writing circle where we read our work out loud to eachother and gave eachother evaluations (That circle work really gave me a lot of confidence and understanding about what works and doesn´t work) …

And I have read a bunch of books about the art of writing. Don´t remember their titles here and now. Search and you shall find. Nothing like the thrill of going to a library or book store and there it just IS, the book you´re looking for, seeming to jump out at you from the shelf! I loooove that feeling. Discovering books. Taking them home. Jumping into bed with them and staying there until we´re finished, if I have the time to read uninterrupted. Before I had kids, I used to spend easter holidays in Bergen in my tiny attic flat behind a locked door, with a full fridge and tons of books, cartoons and cds from the library. Total peace, wrapped up in the embrace of mindblowing reads, written with love by someone who wanted to teach something interesting, and who knew how to communicate with elegance and humour.

I spent a lot of my childhood reading. I did soccer too, age 8-16, and piano lessons same timespan. I did tree climbing and apple stealing. But probably more than anything else, I loved to read. I had a huge cardboard box in my room, filled with cartoons. When I had read them I took them to a second hand bookstore and swapped them into new loads of magazines and books.

So to be a good writer, read.

And choose consciously what you read, because the language used will influence your writing style. Don´t worry though. Read what you feel attracted towards reading. Follow your heart! Listen within!

Some times I play with key words. Association game. I write the first word that comes, down. And underneath it, next line, I write the word that comes when I think about the first one I wrote. Like:

Knife

fork

edginess

piercing

rebel

fire

heat

………………………. it is an excercise helping my mind let go, or maybe rather allowing it to be part of the game, but stopping the rambling, coz I´m not interested in whole or half sentences of sense making………

I think that to write well, it is good to be out of one´s mind……..

Depending on genre. Of course.

In my university years, it was hard to write anything that wasn´t in a scientific language. A very rational, logical structure. From a to b, referring to sources, building up theories. Interesting enough. But not juicy, exciting, passionate or fun…. it doesn´t have to be either. It´s ok. But those textbooks that were written in a looser flow, with a sense of humour, in prose like language… those are the books I remember. That´s one of the reasons too that social anthropology was my favourite subject.  All those fieldwork reports, by anthropologists living with a tribe somewhere, for years, trying to describe and understand their ways of thinking and doing things…. compelling reads.

Well. Where were we?

Silence your mind

Read

Read books on writing

Go to courses

Make association games

What more?

Well….. to me writing is an inner process. Of listening. Actually. I feel   it´s a question of connecting. To my Inner Self. The collective Self. Or to Spirit. Different sources, or maybe rather aspects of the same one source.

When I silence my self, words come to mind.  Sometimes when I write, I start writing quite fast, and only afterwards, when I read through it, do I discover there are rhythms and rhymes in the text, often some words stand out as old fashion or odd, words I don´t normally use…. I think this is inspired writing, from Spirit. Ancestors  or other helpers, on the other side of the veil of death. Yes I do. It´s not automatic writing. But it´s related to that expression, I think.  I´m often not the creator of what I write. I feel. I´m just tapping into the Source, allowing it through. Receiving end. This belief may be true or not, it´s not important to me, as it helps me not to worry about ego issues such as taking honour, or is it good enough, as I´m just letting it through. The quality is up to the sender, and up to the reader. I see myself as …. a medium… a piece in the middle… a bridge between.

Between what? Realms or dimensions? Probably. Between Inspiration and Expression. Content and Form.

Isn´t this fun?! Hahahaha…… Just take your self out of the equation. And there you are. Writing away, Free from inhibition. Just listen within. Without. Sit still. Stop thinking. And let it come through the receiver of you. That last line even rhymes, so it must be true.

🙂

I hope this post is more helpful than confusing? If not then I´m sorry about that. Maybe other people have better advice about the art of writing. I can only give you what I know.

I wish kids in school would learn more creative writing. How to use it to see their own thoughts on issues. Like write lists of pros and cons when they have to make a difficult decision. If you write down one point at the time, then when the mind can´t think of more plus or minus things about the situation in question, you have a sheet of paper in front of you that clearly visualizes that one side has more points than the other side. Or, if not, then use a neon marker and use it to highlight the five most important points to you, for example. Our minds are such great tools. Lightyears better than any computer.  Play with that brain. Use a pen to document what it says to you. Then analyze the result.

I do the same with emotional challenges. Always have done. When I feel strong, disturbing emotions, I grab a pen and paper (not a pc, pen works better for me), and I scribble all my thoughts and feelings down until I feel empty. After that, when my minds goes into loop and wants to repeat the entire tirade over again, I tell it to shut up and read through the written once again, adding if necessary. Then, a day or two later, my subconsciousness has digested some of the stuff in my sleep and I sit down and continue the text. I read through what I have written, and then I continue. And suddenly I find myself writing why I felt that way and what the deeper causes maybe could be, and suggestions to solving the situation… solutions…

I don´t know what that process is called. It´s a kind of self therapy maybe? Dialogue with myself… it helps me understand myself. And to let go of difficult emotions. Ex press. Press out. Kept within under lock, it will make me implode. Tension intensifies. Pressure builds up. Until I release it in writing. Or singing out loud. Dancing. Many ways.

I have always kept a diary. These days I keep a facebook status. And have a journal on the side, for emotional processes and ideas etc. I love facebook. Always wanted to make poster campaigns. Now I have a constant wall for poster campaigns! 🙂 Plus the chat. What a glorious age of communication we are living in.

One more tip just came to mind. Morning pages! I got that from a book on writing tips. You keep a notebook and pen on your bedside table. As soon as you wake up, you write down five pages. Every morning. Before getting up.  It does not matter what you write. Most of it may be silly nonsense, doesn´t matter. If you write “I don´t have a clue what to write” for five pages, it´s okay. It´s a way to train your brain. To stop staying in control of your inner flow coming through. As you wake up, you are still in close contact with your sub conscious. So it´s easier to tune into you intuition… often, I found that there would be a couple of pages of boring lines, then suddenly a paragraph or two of more inspired wordings… be it a poem or an anecdote or just sentences with rhythm or interesting viewpoints… Morning pages. Very good help.

What else. All in all it´s a matter of having a playful approach towards it. Don´t be serious and push yourself. Have fun with your mind, invite it to play games with your heart. Allow your inner voice to come out, without filter. Then you edit later. If you critisize as your write, then you stop the flow. In my opinion.

Find inspiration. Close your eyes and with your index finger on a written text, circle around and stop! And look. Which word is your finger pointing at, right there? Or is it just a letter? The letter L? Then write a list of ten words starting with L.  After that, write five sentence with five of the words.  Maybe it leads you somewhere interesting. Or maybe you got the word “simple”. Then write the word down. What comes after that? Ask within. Be quiet. Listen. It comes to mind.

Simple. As in going with the flow. Letting go. No rule. One word at the time. And it carries on until you feel it´s finished.  Simple!

Be in Joy – ed !

:0))

 

 

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Sexuality

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I want to say something on this universally enormously important human subject. I wanted to start out with the music video of the Culture Club song “Sexuality”, from their album “From Luxury to Heartache” (80-something), but youtube won´t allow the video of that song to be played. So. Hm. Then I stumbled upon this one, by a woman I only discovered yesterday, thanx to a friend of mine. So I choose this song by her instead of Culture Club´s then, hope she   won´t mind:

Spiritual poemsong – pong –  ….    :o))

Quite some woman this, huh. Funny and strong.

And so let me start my talk on sexuality. It´s a mighty fine thing, this thing, this one of our basic instincts. It gives us pleasure, it connects us in the most profound way, and it even causes babies to be born. Rather magical.

Then isn´t it tragical, that the religious dogooders, top hooders, claim they speak for the All Mighty when they say this joyfilled instinct is one to avoid dwelling on, one to feel shameful and guilty about, that the natural feelings inside our divine, God given bodies, should be surpressed, not expressed, never used unless it´s for making a baby?

I think maybe, just maybe, there is a God or a Goddess, sitting on a cloud, shaking her head, saying to herself, “silly preachers, that is not what I said, and not what I ever meant, if it was such a sin then you would not have been given that heartopening, beautiful thing!”

Sex is for pleasure and joy and connection.

Not the porn way. I disagree with porn. It´s just always all about some man´s private part and the things it would like to do. The woman is the object, not the subject. If she is active, it´s in a way that his private part would like her to behave, not in a way she herself would choose to do things. Often the woman or women involved is abused, violated, raped, and she pretends to enjoy it. It is to me a sick industry. And a sickening one as well, indeed.

Erotic litterature, though. Or film. Is a completely different issue. Where adult, equal partners meet, in reciprocity, both respected by eachother, both enjoying acts of friendly, tender or playful, maybe forceful, sex games…

Then, when it happens lovingly, volunteerily, the involved parties being equal. Then I don´t see the point in people saying that they must not be two men together or two women, or more than two people, and not do this and not do that.

If everyone involved has given their concent, their honest yes (between adults. Children and animals can not give their yes in an equal way to an adult person). Then what they choose to do together is nobody´s business but their own. That´s how I see it. It´s their private right to be sexual the way they feel good about. As long as it is not harmful to others.

Also, I find it complete unbelievable that the church and other religious institutions around the world, that they claim they can forbid homo sexuality. What….. isn´t every being created by God in their view? Why were homosexuals created? For priests to have someone to be evil to?

I don´t believe in sexuality being a set of boxes. One called homo, one called hetero, and one in the middle called bi. I think our sexual energy is more like a ray. And it attracts individuals who beam at a certain frequency, similar to our own. Or frequency is maybe just meant to describe sound waves…? Well then, let sexuality be a sound wave, why not, I don´t mind. We all radiate radio rays…? Radio gaga…

🙂

Freddy Mercury. What a man. So talented. As is Boy George as well. And Prince. David Bowie. Many more than I can think of this moment.

Why is it so scary, sexuality? I don´t get it.

And why can´t people just love freely who they want? We can´t help who we fall in love with, can we?! I remember a close friend of mine telling me how she, as a kid, sat in the classroom, feeling in love with a girl in her class, and she just knew that this was something horrible, it made her abnormal, it had to be hidden at all cost, or else she would be an outcast, bullied for the rest of her schooldays, she had to pretend to be tough and cold and cool, preferably the coolest of all the coolest kids.

She spent years in therapy as an adult. To forgive herself for not accepting herself as she was. She is openly gay now, happily together with a very nice woman. But it has not been easy for her to grow up in Norway in the 80s, being gay.

What else do I want to say.

Yes, I want to mention tantra. Not that I´m an expert at all. But I´m fascinated with this old, wise way from India. I bought a video about tantra once. It showed a couple. First they sat looking into     eachother´s eyes for a very long time. Then they sat opposite eachother and touched eachother gently, stroking eachother´s faces, arms…. all very slowly, whilst being conscious about breathing deeply and calmly, remaining in eye contact together… when they started having intercourse, their aim was not to speed up towards orgasm, but to avoid orgasm, stopping, pausing when energy reached high, then continuing again slowly when it became possible to move again… they explained that the sexual energy then was recirculated into their bodies, this could go on for many hours, everything becoming vibrant, the contact between the two becoming so strong, intimate, warm, grateful, loving, happy…

It is actually often this kind of approach sex therapists use when they give advice to couples who can´t rekindle the fire that used to be between them. They are told to go home, just look at each other, not touch. Next day, lie close to each other face to face, fully dressed, no genitals touching…. and so forth until they after a week or so of this kind of intimacy build-up, are allowed to try and go all the way…

It´s a form of sexuality that makes room for the female energy…. I say without competence… it´s just a feeling I have… Women need to feel emotionally connected, intimate psychologically, before opening up physically…. not every woman, and not even most women most of the time, when we know our partner, opening up can be very quick and easy and uncomplicated. But other times…. to connect…. build intimacy beyond the touching of private parts…. is a good idea. And will do wonders. Everyone should experiment with this. It can only bring good consequences.  🙂

What else. Is there more to say about sexuality? Oh yes. Heaps. But I think maybe this is all I want to say about it right now.

Let there be joy, let there be equality, let there be laughter and freedom in the bedroom. Let us enjoy the nature we have been blessed with. We are meant to do this crazy thing, that´s why we feel like doing it so much! Hahaha….. drop the shame and the guilt, it does not belong to you, somebody taught you to think it is wrong and dirty, and shame on them for being violent like that towards innocent human beings.

Be yourself, accept when someone says no to you, and remember to say yes if you mean yes. Very important. Be honest, be real, be horny and be happy. Be responsible, be kind, be peaceful and playful.

Hallelujah, praise the Goddess

for giving us this wonderful thing called sexuality.

Am I right or am I right. You can feel how right I am, right?

🙂

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Work?

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I´ve just been out in the car, driving around the island, enjoying the sunshine, from time to time stopping the car, jumping out to put up a poster. Freezing wind. Don´t notice from inside the car, where all is sunshiny beautiful nature to look at, whilst singing to my favourite cd.

I´m hosting an event, soon, you see. A woman I met at a course 3 years ago, she teaches kids age 1-8 how to play the fagott! She trained to learn to play the instruments in the states, from one of the world´s best fagott players. (I don´t remember his name right now, sorry about that). She also does more general music workshops, she does talks on music for adults, and she is a professional musician. As well as a storytelling poet, a trained dietist and lots of other exciting things, she´s indeed a very interesting human being.

Well, I asked her if she could come to Fanoe and do a workshop with kids here, and maybe a round of those talks she does for adults, too?! And she could and she would! So now she will come here three Wednesdays in February / March, teaching kindergarten kids in the morning, and giving talks about “The secret language of Music” in the afternoon. She´s giving it to Fanoe for a very favourable introducton price.

She will be staying at my place, since her home is a handful hours away from here. So we get some quality time together, for some meals, talks, laughs, the two of us and with my husband and kids.

And I get to be part of her courses, going to the afternoon talks and also helping out with the kindergartens kids.

What is work?

It is “the creating of value” according to the philosopher who went into the greatest depth on the concept of “work”, Karl Marx.

(For the record, I´m neither a marxist or a non marxist, I´m simply a thinking person standing on the shoulders of giants).

I have worked to make this event happen, asking the course holder, then helping fill in the fund application form, then lots of talks on details, does the kindergarten have instruments, where will we hold the adult talks (a place with a piano would be best)… A lot of communication back and forth with the 4 participating parties. Then finally creating a facebook event and hanging posters up.

Value….. worth….. I have worked without pay, one may say, but.     What is pay? Money doesn´t have to be part of a situation for it to be a win win one.

My work in this case creates value for everyone involved. My friend gets a job, Fanoe Council gets a great offer and their name on the pr material, the kindergarten gets a free workshop, the kids get 3 wonderful wednesdays learning about music, the adults on the island get exciting talks on music, no entrance fee.

My pay is that I get to spend time with my friend, and watch and learn from her workshop and talks. I gain inspiration and knowledge. And more than that, it feels very good to have been a bridge between parties, who all get something good out of my spotting and seizing the opportunity. I also gain experience in organizing events.

So. What is work. Work is to create value.

Volunteer work is no less valuable than work one does for wages. Being a stay at home parent also creates a lot of value. In my view it should receive a paycheck from society. It´s an investment in the future generation that they have a parent who has time for them the first few years. But even though “society” doesn´t see it like I do (at least the middle aged, rich men who rule our society, don´t see it that way)….. even though there is no paycheck following the position of household leader, it is still a position that creates a lot of value, and it is equal to other types of work.

Me, I´m unemployed. No paid job to go to. But I most certainly work. I create value. In my two board posts, and in my setting up this event. In my parenting. In my cooking and cleaning, grocery shopping and vegetable chopping and eternal washing machine and dishwasher emptying and filling and emptying…

This blog also requires 2-3 hours every time I upload a new post. Which I aim to do at least every 2-3 days.

My sound healing practice takes time too. Is it work to be a student? HELL YEAH, I would shout. Preparing for an exam?? That´s a lot more energy costly than turning up at a factory or office 9-5 every day, I dare say. Studying takes a lot of time, and focus. You´re never really off, free, finished, until the exam is passed in a month or year´s time.

Parenting too is more costly than going to a workplace and be with other adults and do what one is told. No one interrupting you in what you try to focus on, no one asking for you to find this or that or just carry them every five minutes day and night. Parenting is WORK. The most intense work I ever had, and the most rewarding too. Work.

I  don´t mean this derrogatory to the people who work in an office or factory, though. I too have had jobs. Money is necessary. Jobs are good, many of them. I´m just saying that in my experience, the jobs I have had, required a lot less of me than parenting and studying did.

I don´t mean to generalize. Ever. Many factors matter in each individual case. No need for oversimplifications. I´m just drawing some lines from my own life experience, and maybe it can inspire some thoughts in you who read it. Like I am inspired when I read other people´s thoughts on their experiences.

To work or not to work. Is a silly question. Every human being who is not depressed or anxious due to violence from other people… Every healthy and happy human being wants to work! Wants to create value. It´s like we´re designed to be little creators. That big bang must probably be an all mighty one to make this whole wide world come alive, huh.  :o)

Life is valuable. Time is valuable.

“Say you don´t want no diamond ring, and I´ll be satisfied.

Tell me that you want the kind of things

that money just can´t buy.

Coz I don´t care too much for money,

money can´t buy me love.”

(The Beatles)

When we talk about the rich and the poor, the haves and the havenots… the real currency in my book, is love.

If a person has all the money ever printed, but no love, is it a rich person? Is it a happy person? Is life valuable to that person? When I pretend to stand in such a person´s shoes, which is my regular exercise when I want to watch with empathy at something… with no love in my life, no gratitude, no warm smiles, no authentic sharing with anyone… money would not mean a thing. I would feel cold inside. Sad and lonely. Poor. Unalive. Like the things that money can buy.

Work and money are two separate things.

Work and love are two interconnected things.

The feelgood of creating… value… to contribute… increasing the good…

Nothing wrong with money, either, though. For goodness sake. That´s not my point. I have nothing against money. Bring it on, the more the merrier. I don´t buy that money is the root of all evil.

My point is just that this habbit we seem to have, of thinking hierarchically, pyramid shaped, that the work that is paid for in money, is worth more than the work that is paid for in other currencies… it is an illusion.

There is no better than. There is no more worthy people and other less worthy people. We have to get over this idiotic narrowmindedness. We are all equal.

So let´s all just be proud of ourselves that we do our best, and allow our neighbours and siblings to do their best in the way that they themselves define it. This would be respectful.

And it would be treating everyone as equally valuable.

Equal value creators.

It would make our existence work better.

Work more peacefully.

This, in turn, would create a big value.

To all of us, equally.

Namasté.

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The Incredibles on Fanoe

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Fanoe is the name of the little island where upon I live. (I told you a little about it in Untrad. Jobapplic. Chapter 2). It is a special place in many different ways. Very active art scene, and cultural event scene, festivals, folk dancing, traditional costumes parade one day every Summer… It is an island proud of its past as a sailing ship harbour, ships were built here and the locals travelled world wide. Leaving women behind to run everything, So here, both the newspaper, book store, the two protestant priests, the leaders of the kindergartens, most restaurant owners….. many key positions are filled by women. (Apart from the town council, but. That’s an other story).

Fanoe looks a bit like Kardemommeby. Cinnamon Town. A play written by Norwegian Torbjorn Egner many years ago. It has cobble stoned streets, straw thatched roofs on what is called Fanoe Houses, with distinct half moon shaped windows peaking out from the strawhats… extremely quaint. There are lots of crinkly little streets, and tiny paths that seem to be private but aren’t, the locals use them like they use any other walking path, sneaking passed people’s gardens and back yards…

So in this setting, there is a thriving community. 80% of the 3000 people big population have moved here from other places in Denmark and abroad. That fact really and truely does make for an atmosphere different from other places. People have fallen in love with this place enough to move here. And they are looking to create themselves a new social circle and meaningful passtime.

Hence Fanoe has a great number of ngos. Groups of people, who together make a festival happen, of kite flying, or oyster gathering, or folk music, street theatre, food, the celebration of old traditions, blow cart racing,  Waterfront Festival with local artists, making workshops. landart… You name it, Fanoe has a festival for it! From spring until October we have lots of tourists come here, every Wednesday in July we turn the little town in the north end (there are three villages) into one big town party, with live bands, pony riding, a small train for the kids, barbecues, beer, the boyscouts selling pancakes, the locals having flee markets in their gardens, there is wine tasting and games, all different kinds of entertainment…

And when the tourists go back home, us “natives” draw a deep breath and relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. The dark season is windy on a small, flat island in the  WesternOcean, but it is a time for quiet, being indoors, creating books or paintings, dinner parties with friends we don’t really see in the Summer coz everybody’s got guests half the time… For me it’s the perfect balance. I love festivals and parties and happy people in crowds. But I also love and need for there to be space to go within; contemplation, meditation, creation. Inner conversation.

Now,

I have always enjoyed ngos. Going into co operation with other volunteers, to create something good. I was the leader of a local group of Sos Racism age 18-20. And worked unpaid for the student radio station  when I was in Uni. Many other things too. These days I’m part of a board of 9 volunteers who meet once a month and give out money! :0) Does that not sound like just a wonderful thing to be allowed to do?! The board receives 80.000 kr  (£ 7.000, $ 10.000, correct me if I’m wrong)… from the town council, which is for giving out to local cultural events and projects. If people want to make something fun for the islanders, they can get their expenses covered. Such as setting up a workshop for the kids in school or kindergarten, holding a poetry evening, making a meeting for veteran cars, setting up a storytelling session… anything. They just submit a simple application, and the nine of us discuss and decide how much support we can give in each case. I totally love that job.

Now.

To the point. Had to build this context for you first.

The Incredibles is, at this point in time, a group of 7 people. We have held meetings now for about a year. Because a young man had a great idea. He works with me in the above described ngo, and we had just held a great big 30 year anniversary party for the organization, inviting the whole island in, for a buffet delivered by all the foreigners who live here, 35 nations. And actually the number of artists delivering entertainment as a gift to the ngo on the stage, was 35 too. We had engaged about 100 volunteers to help out in the bar and kitchen, stage things, decorations… yeah… 100. And we bought aprons for everybody, off white plain ones that we got our logo printed on to. So a lot of the people present were visibly part of the organizing group. It was a HUGE success. House was chock a block entire day, start to finish. We had our own corner for the kids as well, which had been advertized, so people came with their families, and it felt like one big family gathering actually. On stage there was a very varied programme, something for everyone’s taste, and exposure to things one wouldn’t normally see or hear, like book reading accompanied by cello, for example… we also had an auction, and the money made went to the old people’s home, a fund established many years ago called Snapsefonden, a snaps… a wee one? A shot… The fund is used to buy wine etc for the dwellers in the old people’s home.

The climax of the party happened when the last act went on stage. It was belly dancing by the woman we all know as our tourist information desk lady. She was wearing this great bellydancer costume, everybody was smiling and clapping, suddenly she comes dancing down the stairs from the stage snd she shouts at us that we must join her and dance too! And immediately, I tell you, hundreds of people jump up from their chairs and we just burst into this wonderful freestyle dancing to Arabic music! Everybody just grinning. You don’t get a lot of those moments in a lifetime. After the dance, we all took each other’s hands and formed a circle, and we sang the local song always sung at the end of a party. It goes, “To gather and to part, welcome and farewell…” Very nice, old melody. After that a man played a tune on his bagpipe (!) signalling the party was over, time to leave. And then. I expected people to drizzle off and for the nine of us to start tidying up the place. But everybody just jumped to their feet and started taking tables apart, gathering garbage into binbags, taking chairs to where they were stored…. I mean. That´s just… plain… opposite of evil. ! It was mindblowing for me to see the guests involving themselves in the tidying up. We were all just very happy, tidying up like a whirlwind, finished in no time. Sweet!

Aaaaanyways. Yes. So we were sitting in the kitchen after this party, counting our money in the till, all nine of us, drinking wine now that our working day was done. Then we went over to one of the board members’ house, just across the street from the party place. And there it was, that my good friend the young man got this great idea.

He wanted to create a yearly event, not for the tourists but for the natives, open for visitors but meant primarily for the natives. A day similar to the one we had just shared, but mixed with other happenings as well. You see, Fanoe used to have a children’s circus that every June made a show in a big tent, and all the adults came and watched it, the local tv station filmed it, and so every child ended up on that stage and on tv, after months of focused work towards the show. It was a project run by the … sfo… the place school kids go to when school is finished, until their parents come from work. My friend Benjamin was also part of the circus when he was little. Many of us miss the circus, which has been gone for a few years now, due to some relocation  of buildings, staff changes etc.

Benjamin said he so much would like to see the children’s circus again, and we could invite the international buffet makers from the party we just held, and all the musicians and theatre people, folk dancers,  everybody! Call it Day of Diversity, for example. Celebrate the unique community we have on Fanoe.

One of the circus organizers was sitting at our table, and we all lit up as Benjamin presented his idea. One thing took the next, and soon he had gathered a group of seven people who sat down and started mapping out the idea and possibilities. To make a circus project together witht the school or sfo. Ask the old people’s club to make costumes with the kids perhaps. Invite sports clubs to arrange a competition or games of sorts on the Diversity Day. Maybe someone would like to make a competition of building something or baking a cake or… Fanoe has recently renovated its school, so there is a massive indoor space in the middle of it, that we could use until later years when we hopefully can afford a tent… we could have an outdoor stage for local bands in the evening… a man on the island owns two big and beautiful beduin tents, we could probably get him involved somehow… the idea is to engage as many as possible into this thing, so it becomes everybody’s event, where we basically celebrate ourselves. !

So we have been holding meetings. And this week we’re on local tv being interviewed about the plans. Posters and flyers are coming up. The Incredible will start up and become a formal ngo Thursday next week. Anybody interested can come and get an impression of the project. Become members for a symbolic price. Join work groups later, or engage in brainstorming to shape the event content. A lot of threads must be tied together, setting up co operation between different groups. But Fanoe is used to this, and good at it. “FireSouls” we call them, people who work as volunteers, who burn with passion for a cause. Fanoe has many such firesouls. Who can see the gifts received of joy and deep satisfaction from lifting collectively, together making something happen that could not be done alone. And without the main purpose being money.

There has also been a new reform in the school system in Denmark a year ago. Where it says that the schools are to co operate with local ngos. So there is the extra benefit to the project that we can help the school come into the new form more easily, supported by the citizens.

Isn’t this all just totally Incredible??!!

I’m very excited to be part of this. I filmed that children’s circus show two Summers when I first came to Fanoe in 2008. A three camera production. I remember feeling so touched. This massive tent, filled with wooden benches. All the grownups and siblings finding seats. All the sfo kids so proudly entering stage with their rehearsed sketches and tricks, dancing can can, acrobatics, jokes, singing….. standing in a corner above the crowd with my big camera on a tripod, I was shooting closeups of the children’s faces… imagine… it gives me goosebumps to think about it actually… then taking the tapes home, importing the material into the pc and start to edit the event, making everyone look as good as possible, removing elements that could make someone feel embarressed when seeing themselves on tv… I was so impressed with this island. My then only child was 4 years old at the time, and I felt so lucky for her she would grow up in a place like this.

So wish us luck! Good luck to The Incredibles. Good luck, Fanoe, with lifting our community through pulling together for a Day of Diversity where we all come together and everybody has a place, a role to play, invited to actively participate.

Dreams do come true, they do.

 

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Untrad. Jobapplic. Chapter 2

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Hello everybody in our international interaction-net. Or at least hello those of you who visit my site here now. You made me do something extremely out of character last night. My blog peaked, you see. It had more visitors yesterday than any day before. Like twice the amount of the last time it peaked! I dont´t know why! But it made me so happy that when I went out to our local bar on the corner, to listen to the jam session, then instead of drumming politely on the table like I usually do, I SANG out as LOUD as I could. !!

Hahahaha….. I´m actually still in shock. I can play the piano and hand drums, I can dance very well, and I did sing my own songs on my videopoem installation “Linking” (it has its own post, where you can watch it).

…. but I have never been attracted to stages…… something has always stopped me from stepping up into the spot light. Maybe it´s been an unconscious fear of rejection that has stopped me, actually, I just thought of that now. When I was in high school, I was bullied. Not very aggressively or severely, but I´m very sensitive, so it was serious for me, the feeling of not being wanted by any of the classmates… sharp comments when I answered the teacher´s questions… Maybe there´s something there. Because yes, it would have felt devastating if I would have felt that the musicians didn´t want me to join them.

Maybe the reason I dared yesterday, or felt like it, coz I haven´t actually been stopping myself before, I have just not felt like participating more than the drumming from a distance… Yes, the reason I did it was also that I feel safe with the people on stage last night, I know them from other contexts, one works in the kindergarten, an other is my girlfriend´s son, a third plays violin, harmonica and bagpipe with my husband sometimes… I felt safe with them, and I also have this new level of self esteem within, after that soundhealing I told you about in “My SoundHealer Inauguration”.

But more than inner and outer security, trust…. it was you guys. My readers. All your amazingly positive comments. I am gobsmacked. My inbox is overflowing with love! Appreciation, gratitude, compliments… I hope my replies reach you. Haven´t replied to all 350 comments (!!!), but I hope my replies lie open to all, so you can see how thankful I am to each and every one of you.

Many of you have shared my site with a colleague or a friend, others have been shown it by a father or a cousin. Some of you ask if you can share my post in your facebook group as long as you give me credit and link to my site, and of course, what an honour, I am … just… Please share, the further my words reach, the happier I am… so grateful that what I write can be of help to others.

I don´t have a clue how so many find my site. As I have said before, I just write, my darling husband set up a wordpress blog system or what they call it, WordPress anyway. And since then I just write, and have found out how to link to youtube now, and paste a photo. Hurray. Progress! I hear that some say my site looks strange through Internet Explorer,  I haven´t checked it out yet and either way I wouldn´t know how to solve it. Many of you say it loads surprisingly quickly, though, so I´m pleased with that.

I guess more and more people find my site because you readers tell your friends and family about it. That thought is a very heart warming one to me. I remember reading that the brilliant best seller book “The Celestine Prophecy” was printed by the author himself, and given to people. And people started buying copies for their friends, and that´s the way it grew into such a megahit. It´s almost romantic! All we need is Love… giving out freely, and good feelings grow and grow, spreading out like rings in a pond around a sinking stone…

Please keep sharing. Sharing is caring. That may sound a bit too rhymey, but. It´s still a little piece of truth. :o)

Quite a few of you have commented that you want to hear how it´s going after I put that jobapplication in the paper. It has not led to any concrete job offer. But what it has generated, is that people locally treat me differently! Very noticable. They feel they know me now, I guess. The amount of information I managed to tell in that open letter, normally takes years to learn about a person, doesn´t it. People smiled and con gratulated me on the “job ad” on the street, and approached me when I was delivering my kids in the kindergarten, asking me if I had gotten any job offers, and telling me about this and that, how her son was making a film at the moment for example… And one person came to my door, asking if I was ready to give treatments in sound healing soon, she had read in the paper I was doing Githa Ben-David´s course…

So. I´m more than pleased. I´m a known entity locally now. They know my qualifications. Or at least the qualification I claim to have. Hahaha… they also know I have nerve. And dare do things differently to how things are usually done. Which attracts interesting people into my circle. Like you guys. I really don´t know why that jobapplication post is the one that is hitting more reads than any of the other posts. I don´t mind not knowing this, though. I´m just incredibly happy there are people out there who value my writing. It´s a bit hard to believe. As I always wrote just for my own sake.

My husband says my ego is spinning totally out of control. Hahaha. No it won´t. But it is having a field day, a mighty good time with this loving attention from the blog comments, yes it is. And there is nothing wrong with that. Being accepted and recognized is one of the main human needs. I have experienced a lot of the opposite in my life. It is very healing for me to receive this huge wave of feeling understood and appreciated. My tribe does exist after all! Individual hearts around the globe beat in the same frequency as mine does. I am not alone. We are All One. <3

Right. I´m changing minidisc now. From “Tulku, Seasons of Souls” from 2002, to a Lee Perry anthology, his first words on track one; “Music to rock the nation….” LOVE that man.

I´m out in my  ListeningHut in the garden. 2 by 2 metres big. Gift from my husband. Best gift I ever received. The kids are inside, with their dad, the eldest girl is composing a song with him on the keyboard. He digs that line she said (described in A pre teen talk); “When I become a teenager, you must lock me up! Don´t let me out of the house!” So he wants to make a song with her based around those words… 🙂 I feel so blessed that he is a musician and music teacher. A very seldom man. Very tolerant and patient, no sarcasm or irony, total respect for children as equals. Not that they get to rule the house at all. But that they are shown respect and trust. Coz if they aren´t, how can they themselves show others respect and trust? Which are two very important ingredients in equal relatings. And any other kind of relating is actually completely and utterly unacceptable to me.

But back to the job application and its consequences. I´m still without income. But I have the luxury of free time. To write on my blog. And to study sound healing. Tomorrow I will go by train and meet up with 4-5 of my fellow students at someone´s house, and we will practice our learnt method on eachother. I feel so close to them. I have never been a group person, I have always been part of many groups, but moved alone. This sound healing group is like coming home. I love them! It´s an incredible experience. We have shared many intimate things. In our training it is essential we heal ourselves of old traumas, so that we can be “clean channels”, empty enough to allow Light through. Or how to say it. We have been in regression, facing traumas from previous life times. Witch burning, shaman left by his tribe on the ice to die, a small child scared witless from being left behind alone in a dark pyramide as part of a ritual they practiced in ancient Egypt, a human sacrificing in Latin America where she lay paralized, drugged, whilst waiting to be sacrificed, which  didn´t actually bother her in her drugged state, she felt it was an honour to be the chosen gift to the Gods…… yes, these things we have gone through, and with the person turning cries into long tones, our teacher guiding the person out of the trauma, energy blockages letting go and disappearing out of the person´s unconscious… We have shared so many intense, deeply personal happenings together. When someone else in the circle has similar energy blockages to the person in focus, they too start to cry. Cellular singing with domino effect. Then they too release their blockages, cry, join the singing… Githa´s trilogy is why I started this education. I think it is being translated into English as we speak. Extremely exciting stuff. 🙂

So. No money honey. Yet. But hopefully, this free time being invested in my blog and my course, will lead to moneyhoney soon. I do of course know that people can earn a living from blogging. And I hope that what happens is that advertizers just contact me if they want to advertize on my blog?? I don´t have a clue how it works. I have heard about Google Adwords and managed to open an account, but. No idea how to proceed from there. And it costs money to get adwords. Which I don´t have.

But if you readers keep sharing my site around, then maybe that will do the trick. That would be a great love story, if your sharing created a source of income. for me. Dream big, they say. Imagination is the only limitation.

Tomorrow I will test my fellow student´s massage table. I don´t have money to buy one of those either. But my husband says I can have one for my birthday. Which is the 25.this month. So maybe I will tell him I wish for the same as the one I will see tomorrow, as it´s a special offer Githa has organized for her students. The feeling that I really really need a massage table NOW, is new to me. Until that course weekend in January (My SoundHealer Inauguration post) I wasn´t sure at all whether I would embrace the role of therapist. But something just changed within me after that trance treatment. And now I feel confident and sure and excited to get going. An ACE feeling.

Yeah. So. The job ad. Has led to local good-will and feeling seen. Fanø is a very lovely place. 3000 people live here. In the summer we have 1 million tourist stayovers. (Not persons but nights of accomodation sold).  It is a holiday hotspot for Danes and Germans. Lots of festivals here. An ENORMOUS beach. Woods and biking paths. Peace and quiet. I love living here. 80% of the population are immigrants. Which makes it easy to integrate. People are open to building new networks. There are lots of artists here, attracted by the light, to paint. Many authors as well. Denmark´s highest level of education. And most active ngo place in the country, there are loads of clubs for all kinds of interests. The folk music scene is strong. We have our own local tv station! I must share some photos of Fanø with you some time. Or better, you should come over and feel this place. Many people keep returning time and time again to Fanø in their Summer holidays. And some of them end up moving here.

The job ad letter has served its purpose. I now know that people here know I´m unemployed and looking for work, and they know what I can be used for. Basically anything. I knew before I sent the letter that work here on the island is very scarce. But now I know that if something comes up, people may think of me and contact me.

Actually, one more thing has come out of it. The local glassblower, her name is Charlotte le Ceur, I have helped her a couple of holiday seasons, standing in the till… she says she will check out whether I can get paid practice as a glass blower´s assistant! Meaning she would train me for 6 months, and I would have a small wages in that period. And after that, of course I would be her assistant. !!! Which is actually pretty hard work. The oven is 11oo degrees hot. And you know, glass. Demands high concentration, or mindfulness, zen here and now presence. Which isn´t really a problem. But I´m rather clumsy with practical actions in general…. I´m a much better thinker than a handywoman. Which is lucky, because if my thinking was as poor as my practicality skills…. hehehehe…. But she knows me. And we have a great chemistry. So if she can make that option come true, then I will go into training as a glass blower´s assistant! Amazing Grace.

What do I hope for? A lottery ticket. I just have to remember to put a ticket in, I always forget. But even if I had limitless funds, I would still write this blog, and finish my education and see what that leads to. Because those things fill me with joy. They are passions of mine. The glassblowing…. I´m not 100% sure I do that if the lottery blesses me. But I will definately want to keep helping out in the till in her beautiful workshop-shop. Lovely meditative space. Tourists come in and just sit down on the floor and watch her and her daughter work, creating colourful, fragile, esthetically soul nourishing items. Which cost a lot. So they are precious to the buyers. And I then wrap the expensive things in cardboard and off-white cotton home sown little bags, which I close by tying a piece of brown string around the bag´s opening, and from the string hangs a label where I have stamped her logo with an old fashioned stamp….. just the sound of the oven and my stamping those labels…. it is a very relaxing place to spend time. And   I´m sure I will fall in love with being a glass blower´s assistant if it comes to it.

So that´s where I am now. I will tell you how everything develops. And call the post the same as this one, only chapter 3. Clever, huh?! :o)

I feel so proud, so grateful, so satisfied with myself. Hahahaha… Maybe I should write a song about it. And call it “Ode to my Ego”. Egos are useful things. They help us materialize our will. They just need to be held on a leash. But they must be allowed to celebrate success. Every feeling must be allowed to pass through our systems. But that subject deserves a blogpost of its own, an other fine day.

I will keep on posting. Thanks to your comments. Your encouragement and uplifting, is very motivating for me.

THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU !!! 🙂 <3 🙂

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A pre teen talk

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My eldest daughter was ten i November. She told us this was her first round birthday, so it was supposed to be a bit bigger than usual. We always throw a party for her class mates, followed by a party for neighbours, friends and family, where the number of guests is larger than our little straw thatched yellow former postoffice from 1789 can hold. But we made it bigger.  Her dad wrote her a song, and I held a speech, listing ten traits I can see in her, telling a little story from her childhood to explain what I meant by for example her being trust worthy, and strong willed…

For her present she got the usual amount of money, this time in cash so she could buy herself a wii console. And then she got a pc version of her favourite game Minecraft as well. She was happy. What makes a party extra special is speeches and songs, isn’t it? It is to me. Feeling seen, understood, treasured. Is what we all need more than most other things.

Last night she wanted to go to bed early, before her siblings (3 & 5, soon), so the two of us could have a talk. It’s wonderful to get those intimate chats one on one with my children. To get the feel for what is stirring in their minds and hearts. In the everyday practicalities, that close contact so easily gets lost when we are all busing about. Anyways. Yes, there we were on the double mattress she shares with her little sister, talking about this and that.

Then  I suddenly started talking about how she is now becoming what they call a pre teen, a child moving into becoming a young person, a teenager. And that I hope that the friendship we have, the trust between us, will stay strong through the years when she thinks everything I do is embarressing and totally hopelessly out of touch with reality. That when the day comes that she does do something against my advice, that she does pick up a phone and call me and ask for my help even though she knows she’s broken a rule or a promise.

She giggled a lot. Then she asked me what do teenagers actually do that is breaking the rules?

I told her that when I was 13, I was not cool at all. Because everybody was supposed to have Levi’s jeans, but my mother had told me it was just a shallow idea and other, cheaper jeans were just as good, so it was stupid to pay extra just for a label. Which I understood and agreed with. So I had no Levi’s, and also no Millet winter jacket nor a Ball sweater. Therefore I could not be with the kids who seemed to be the cool ones.

I told her that teenagers get a lot of new hormones in their bodies, which is changing their bodies from children to adults. And that this makes them very moody, all their feelings get more intense and this makes them very insecure, they don’t know how they are supposed to behave as young adults. So they pretend they know it all to hide they feel insecure.  At the same time, everybody feels very strongly they want to be like everybody else, they want to be “normal”. So when some of the kids, who seem tough, wear certain things, then everybody wants to do the same.  And when the cool kids smoke cigarettes and drink alcohol, then most of the others do the same, so they can be cool too. The cool kids will pretend that they have kissed a lot of boys, and so everybody gets stressed because now they too have to start kissing boys so they can feel normal and cool.  Teenagers feel that what their school mates think is much more right and important than what their outdated useless parents think about things, and so they tend to get into some not so wise decisions in those years.

My daughter shouted : “You must lock me up when I become a teenager! Don’t let me out of this house!”

Hahaha… that sentence is what inspired me to write this post… isn’t that complete and utter cuteness. I promised her we will keep her locked up at home through her teens. I think I will have to write a contract, have her sign it, then frame it and give it her for her 14.birthday. Hahahaha….

She asked if all teenagers behave like that, aren’t there any good things they do? I said oh yes, some teenagers don’t do all that mischief, myself for example was lucky enough not to be cool, so I spent my teens listening to music on Radio Luxembourg, making mixtapes, spending all my pocket money on a German music magazine called Bravo, and turning the magazine into poster wallpaper in my bedroom, and gluing pictures of pop idols and moviestars in a notebook, next to self made poems and political slogans. I stayed up late many nights, sitting at my desk writing and drawing and gluing and reading, whilst listening to Duran Duran, Limahl, Wham, Madonna, Prince and Little Steven….

I told her many teenagers spend their time discovering their own interests, many become active in politics, meeting up discussing how to change the world, some sit at home alone or together creating songs with their guitars or pianos…. teenagers have a lot of fresh, emotionally intense energy, it’s a little like their heart is on fire. So each teenager chooses how to use their energy. Some decide they want to be part of a quior in a church and spend their spare time learning about religion. Others decide they don’t want to waste their life on drinking and smoking but want to do their homework properly and aim for a good education that can give them a job they love to do or that gives them a lot of money when they become adults, they invest in their own future, as we say…

My daughter said that’s what I wants to do in my teens. Invest in my future. I said to her, you know you can do a bit of both. Party some times, and still study hard. As long as you don’t party all the time, instead of doing your school work, there is no harm in having fun, that is also needed.

When I was a teen I never drank alcohol until I was 16. All the others started 2-3 years earlier. I watched them drink and lose inhibitions, kiss boys and throw up, stumble around crying, arguing, some saying they wanted to kill themselves… not a very pretty sight. And I was glad to see it from the outside, and not be a part of it. Though it didn’t stop me from drinking later on. I said to her, that day will most probably come when you, against my advice and my forbidding it, will taste alcohol, and you will get sick from it. And my wish is that you that night find a phone and call me and let me come and fetch you and help you home. Because no matter what you do in your life, even if you become a murderer, I will always love you. That’s what it’s like to be a mother, you love your children no matter what. So even when I’m very angry with you, or upset or disappointed, it never means that I don’t love you.

You and I, we have a strong bond between us, because we are honest with eachother. And also we respect eachother’s right to privacy. We don’t read other people’s mail. And you are allowed to have secrets from me. Telling your best friend about the cute boy in school is a lot more fun than telling your mama. It was the same for me when I was a teen and had a best friend I told all my secrets to. Though you may of course always come and tell me anything, I will always be happy to hear what’s going on inside you. You can ask me anything too. I have lived a long life and learnt a lot. If a question is difficult to say out loud, then you can write it to me. I will always listen and take you seriously, try to understand you, and I will give you my opinion openly, and if I don’t know what to answer, I will help you do research to find the answer you need.

She nodded slowly, quietly, smiling. We have had similar talks before. But this one had given her some concrete new details on different things.

When she was five I was pregnant with her little sister, so we read books about how babies are made. I met  all her questions then with total openness. So that issue of birds and bees, is way behind us. Which is nice now. It’s easier to explain such matters to a small child than to a big child, I reckon. Everything is so straight forward with a small child, they are like little curious scientists, eager to find out how everything works, and still free from feeling self conscious, embaressed or afraid to show insecurity… Life to them is strange all the time anyways, sex is no more strange than lots of other things, and they just accept everything as it is presented to them. Those one to one talks about essential issues. They are worth their weight in gold to me.

At this point, her little brother came running into the room, threw himself at us and we tickled him. Soon their sister joined us too, and we were one big lump of tickled children and myself, laughing ourselves into exhaustion before settling into a good night story.

And this was my good night story to you. It is 03:45 in the morning here now. My little boy is resting next to me on the sofa, he is feverish so we got out of bed to get something to drink and to watch the fantastic Japanese animation film Ponyo (his favourite), and to write this piece called a pre teen talk. Hope you enjoyed it. Good night. :0)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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