I loved seeing you naked…

It was a great sight, it really was. Naked people tend to be truly fascinating. Somewhat difficult to take your eyes off somehow. I mean the ones that show up literally on your doorstep with no clothes on are just…such nice surprises, don’t you think? Like Christmas…with a naughty twist…

I’m sitting next to the Thames, on a park bench, in the dark, writing. The lights are shining beautifully on Westminster and couples on other benches are curled up, talking to one another. I am waiting for a friend to meet me across the bridge at Gordon’s – the coziest wine bar I have ever seen. I just finished a salsa class and I have spent all day meeting people for coffees. It’s beautiful isn’t it? That people actually show up to see you. That they care so much to enjoy your company that they go out of their way to meet you. Sometimes to help you, other times to get helped by you, but often just to listen to your words, see your smile and get a hug.

The wind is playing gently with my hair, couples are walking by, giggling. A group of tourists is taking photos of Big Ben. The fall is slowly moving in. There’s beauty everywhere. In New York, London, LA, Paris…the Swedish countryside. All the places I love. There’s also beauty in all the things I do that I love. Like dancing – letting my body move with the music. Allowing someone else to twirl me around and being allowed by them to dance with them.

Wherever I am there will be beauty and there will be dancing. There will be lovely people to meet, to share moments with, to laugh and cry with…to hold each others’ hands in the dance of life. There’s love everywhere and when you open your eyes to it, your life will be so magical. None of us will be spared of the pain of childbirth or the pain of heartache, no one will go through life not losing something or someone. Life is transitory. When you have love though; when you are surrounded by people that amaze you with their beauty and warm you with their hearts, when you give love to others and when you do what you love doing, then you are leading an astonishing life.

Wherever I am there are people I cannot be with at that instant in time. I cannot hug them in physical form, but I will bring them with me in my heart as the treasure that they are, as the joy and light that they have brought me and continue to bring. What is so incredible is that even though my heart is filled with love, it can never be filled up with people – there’s always space for more. For more meetings, more friends, more laughter, more hugs and cuddles.

We may all live separate lives, but we all share this life also. This experience is ours, not alone, but together. We are in each other’s lives.

One of the things this summer taught me is that to open your heart and listen, really experience a person with all your senses, is the best gift you can offer. To see them, feel them and hear them as they are, in all their nakedness. To acknowledge the journey they are on. And when they do the same for you; when they let you into their heart for real – when they see you standing naked in front of them…you are blessed. You are blessed to be seen, to be felt, experienced. You live experiencing things, but to be experienced by another person…that is also an experience and it’s a very beautiful one. Very beautiful.

If there is someone out there whom you love, tell them. If there is someone you have not forgiven, forgive them. If there is someone you would like to get to know, ask them. If there is someone who makes your heart tremble, smile at them. Show them your naked heart. You don’t have to do much more. You just have to show up.

To all the people that have made this summer such an incredible experience, from the people I worked with, to the people I spent hours talking to, to the people that just showed up once or twice – I salute you. Thank you so much for making my experience on this planet that much more amazing.

And to all the people out there whom I will never meet, or whom I am yet to meet – know that every smile you give, every hug you share, every hand you hold is an incredible gift. It truly does make life worth living.

Thank you. Namaste. Merci. Tack så mycket!

“In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flames by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.” Albert Schweitzer

Dancing

Ok, so I love Robbie, mmmmm…but maybe this song is a tad cheezy…yet very, very true.

My view tonite.

Writing in the light of street lights…

Gordon’s…ain’t life sweet?!!!

Gordon’s…

Couldn’t buy you any…but in my mind I bought them for you…

The girl and the ocean…

The morning sun was stretching its first rays up into the air and it created a streak of orange by the line of the horizon. It was a calm morning. The ship was moving slowly and the young man felt a twinge of impatience, at the same time as he knew it was ridiculous – you can’t change the pace of a ship.

The young man was acutely aware of the power of the sea, the winds and everything else which his world evolved around. It was not he that was in control, all he could do was to learn to cope within what was there. If he was in charge of the winds, they’d always blow in the direction in which he was going. If he was in charge of the clouds, they would only be there when the sun was too hot to muster. He wasn’t in charge though, and he knew it. He knew it because he had spent enough time at sea to know. He had been shown the powers of nature time and time again. The more he saw, the more in awe he became of nature, yet, the more he learnt to play within her games. When a storm broke loose, he would look up into the skies and ask what he needed to learn from this one, or if it was just a joke she was playing on them all. A tease. Something to make them work for their ride. They had, after all, been given her planet to play upon. If it could be called playing.

As they would reach harbor today the hull would be washed; everything polished to look nice, including themselves. They had been gone for twelve full moons. It was a long time.

The sun was slowly climbing its way up the sky and the warm rays caressed his face, making him feel relaxed. He needed to sleep. He had been on duty the last five hours. It had been a calm night, nothing much had happened, but he was still getting tired now. He wish he could sleep outside in the sun, but he knew he would have to go downstairs. He yawned.

The ship was his home. Maybe more so than the old cottage in which his parents lived. The smell of salt, seaweed, tar and wood felt more familiar than earth and grass. He had been at sea for six years. It had taught him a lot and it had kept him calm. On land he always felt restless and agitated. At least he had done. Now, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to keep moving around always, but the thought of staying in just one place…what was there left to discover after some time? What colors and smells would wake him up, resurrect him? He didn’t know. He had never managed to find them before. As a kid, all that ever interested him was when the ships arrived in the harbor and he got to come down and see what they had brought with them from afar – the colors, smells and sensations of different worlds from his own. Discovery awakened him. Routines made him fall asleep. They were nice for a while. They were like resting – one could switch off, sleepwalk. After a while the body had rested enough and longed to once again discover something new. Something different.

There was one thing he didn’t want to be apart from though and that was her. She had moved to their little town when he was gone in travels. Her family came from afar. She was different; she had seen some of the world out there and she wasn’t sleepwalking like the rest. Her eyes were always open in wonder, she studied, she asked questions…

They would talk for hours. They would walk through the fields together. She would ask him questions about the nature around there, questions he, himself, who had lived there all his life, could not answer. She made him wonder about the meaning of things. About how a seed can become a plant. How some men love what others hate. Everything he had taken for granted she questioned. She was like him, but what he questioned was different.

He had always questioned why people chose to live as they did; day in and day out the same routines. Once he travelled and saw how people lived differently in different places he would question even more – why couldn’t they take the best from different places and merge it together? Would he ever find a place where he would feel like their way of living suited his dreams?

He had been used to feeling different; like no one else understood him. Until she came along. They saw the world, so differently, but they understood each other’s differences. Of course there was also the Captain of this ship. He understood him quite well too. They didn’t share the whole world though, they just sailed together. He would miss him if he stayed ashore – she had asked him when they would settle down together and he had promised that when he returned this time they would get married and he would stay. Use his savings to buy a boat and become a fisherman. The idea of seeing her every day excited him, yet the idea of staying ashore did not. He knew in his heart that he had chosen her, but part of his heart died as he thought of living in a cottage always. There’d be nothing new to see apart from when the ships arrived. She found something new in every flower; every spring she’d be amazed by the wonders of nature. As the ice melted and flowed down the mountains, the flowers burst into bloom and the animals gave birth to their little ones. She praised it all. To him, it was the same as the year before.

She was sitting in the seers room, feeling a bit nervous and ridiculous. Most people did not believe in such things as the planets ruling the minds of men in this little town. In the big city where she was from some people did. Here it was frowned upon; your fate rested entirely in the hands of God. The seer entered the room with a smile; her large red and golden robe making swishing sounds as she moved. Her brown hair was hanging loosely; the curls seemingly playing with one other. Her eyes were green like jade and emeralds. She was a stunning exotic beauty and she had a warmth about her that had a calming effect on people who were close. Even the decoration in the little room was warm – red colors and wooden furniture. She sat down, still with a smile and took her hand. ”Don’t worry, God created the planets too. This is not a crime, you are just checking out what God created for you.” “How can you know that already?” she asked, confused. The seer smiled. “You see, he left traces. Like the planets. The lines on your hands. The energy that radiates from your heart and soul. It’s like learning to read, but it’s not the alphabet you are deciphering, it’s people. You cannot predict the entire future – God gave you free will, but unless you break free, your path is written.” She felt a tad calmed down by this. It didn’t sound too bad.

The seer looked her in the eye. “You have a beautiful soul and you will travel far. Much further than you could ever imagine. You are worried right now that the man you are marrying will leave you. He will never leave you. He loves you. No matter where he is he will love you. You see, love is funny like that – you do not have to be in the same room to love someone.” She felt anxious – the idea of being away from him still hurt her. How much time did you need to spend away from loved ones? Since they met, two years ago, he had been gone for 18 months out of 24. She did not want to live like that, but she loved him. Other men made her smile, bought her roses, sang to her…he just had to look at her, but it was difficult when he wasn’t there.

The seer smiled at her anxiety. “He hasn’t forgotten you, nor never will he. You are special to him. So if the world separated you and he was forced to be apart from you forever, no matter who else he loved, he’d still love you. Such is true love. You don’t have to worry though. Your stars tell of different tales. Before I tell you what they are, I need you to understand him though.” She nodded. “You see, like you love spring…the excitement to you of the rebirth of nature, so he loves to travel. If you imagine an eternal winter, life would not be much fun. Everything around you would seem dead and it wasn’t just there to make you appreciate spring, it was there forever. Sure you would enjoy the snow, the occasional sunny day when you go skiing, tea by the fireplace, Christmas candles and spicy treats…you would love that, but you would still mourn the spring. To him traveling is like spring – it awakens him, makes him acutely aware of his surroundings, makes him alive, smiling. You see, to him you are the world, but without spring in it, he won’t be happy.” She looked at the seer in amazement. “I think I can understand that, but are you telling me he will always be traveling? That he will always be gone for more time than he will be with me? I would have to accept that, because I couldn’t leave him and I couldn’t let him live without spring.”

The seer offered her some mint tea and she accepted, still, in her mind, trying to accept the idea of being away from him so much. The seer slowly stirred her cup. “It’s nice, you accepted it. So it’s true that you love him. However, it’s not what you think. For him, the world without you is potentially even worse than a world without spring. It would be like a world without summer.” She smiled and so did the seer. “You will wander far together. Soon a party of travelers will pass through town and you will go with them. They will not mind women on their journey, in fact they will like having you there. Your gifts are valuable to them. You heal people. What you know of herbs and spices will help them. You will help them trade with teas as well. You are truly gifted you know.”

She had always loved the sea, just like him. Somehow she felt that it could tell her the truth – for hours she would stand and stare at it as a child. It had brought her him. It had taught her that she could not tame it – she could play with it – jump in its waves and splash it around, but it would forever be what it was. It was not hers, but she could enjoy it. It would take her places, but she had to be willing to go.

The young man awoke with a smile on his face – he had had a nice sleep and now he was ready to enter the harbor. He just needed to wash first.

He could not only see land now – he could smell it in the air. It had earthy undertones and some vague nuances of burning wood – fireplaces. It always excited him to reach harbor. It was for the sake of harbors that he traveled – new places and sights. This one was, however, familiar. It always looked a tad different every time he returned though, because he saw it with new eyes. Eyes that had seen more of the world. He had changed and therefore his perspective. What he longed to see today though was not the harbor, but her. He knew she was well – he could always sense if something was wrong, but today everything felt right.

She stood there. Skirts gently rustling in the wind, a smile on her face. She was beautiful. To him she looked different than any other woman around. It was as if she stood out – everyone else looked a bit blurred, out of focus, but she was crystal clear.

He was even more tanned than before. His brown locks were slightly blonder and if possible even more tousled than she could remember. His teeth, when he smiled, looked as white as stars in his tanned face and his blue-green eyes shone like emeralds with glints of turquoise. His rough hands, would soon hold hers in them – trace her lines, make her remember that she was alive. This was what she loved about him – how he made her feel more alive when he was around – he looked as if he was part of nature, rather than separate from it. He didn’t live within a house, he lived within the world. She had never liked walls, confinements; she too belonged to nature. Together they felt freer than when apart.

The sailor returned home that night, but home was merely a harbor in her heart.

In each individual there is an individual, yet we are all made from the same materials, so inside each person is a part of who we are. Our bodies are made up of the same earth. We feed off what lived here a thousand years ago. In our genes rest the beginning of man. Our lives, as Leonardo said, are made of the deaths of others. To gain you must also lose. To grow you must, therefore, give. It is only by giving that something is returned.

It seems like some people compliment us; bring out the best in us and help us see what we did not see before. We are a team. It is true that you should be able to live on your own and feel whole in you. It is equally true that to build a house you may need one person who can visualize what it will look like and another to build it. It is true that some like to lead, whilst other like to be led.

In other people we find someone who sees the world like us. From that day on, we are never alone, no matter where we are, because our minds are connected, our hearts beat like one.

In each person is a world. How they live, how they see, how they feel might be light years from our own. When they share their world, we discover a new world and ours, as a result shifts.

There is a reaction when we meet someone, but we cannot control their reaction, as little as we can control the ocean.

We love ourselves in others and others in ourselves. We love the new worlds others bring us because they compliment our own. We love and it is through love anything worthwhile is created. We sail, but it is in harbors that we belong.

Maybe I will always write stories of entertainers, sailors, healers and seers – travelers that seek truth and joy in life, whilst creating something of their own. I cannot escape myself when I write, just as little as I can escape myself when I do anything. To me those figures are beautiful, because they are my harbors in this life. They are me and I am them.

Sailing solo…stark naked…

Have you ever felt like you cracked open? Like every event, every emotion, there ever was fell out of your chest and onto the world for full view? Today I felt like that and before my jet-lag dissipates and the fog leaves the hills once more and daylight enters, I will share it with you. Come tomorrow, having a clear head, I will once again want to sweep this story under the carpet. For now though, the hills are covered in fog and I feel safe and secure, sitting half asleep in my bed, writing.

Journeys end in lovers meeting, or so Shakespeare said. Traveling for me has always been a way of life. I have been blessed to see many places, I have had wonderful adventures and I have met some astounding people. Traveling has also always given me perspective – you cannot look at your life from the same point of view when you are looking at it from a different place, under different circumstances. What’s more, my passion for traveling has given me an excuse to always leave people and places before they leave me. I never worry what others think of me, because I don’t live there anyway. I don’t really care, so I feel free, independent and happy, but today I got sick of traveling. I don’t want to need to be constantly running to feel happy. After having my sister calling me yesterday complaining about not having seen me for eight months and a friend crying as I left London town, I just realized it’s about time I face up to it, if I want to end my journey in a loving meeting, rather than as soon as I want to become part of a town, a social circle, or a man, feel like I’m being judged and lose my self-confidence and start running all over again to feel safe, secure and confident.

Today I saw the movie The Time Traveler’s Wife on the plane. It wasn’t a good movie, it was poorly executed, but to me it meant the world to watch it, because suddenly I saw my life in a completely new light. I saw how it would have looked like from a time traveler’s perspective and what it would have been like having myself come back from the future to tell me not to be scared when things were rough.

If you could watch your life, your story, as a movie, what would you think of the protagonist? Would you not see your life in a different light? If you could go back in time and hold your own hand when you were a kid… If you could hug that kid and tell him or her what s/he really needed to know…what would you say?

Man do I wish there had been someone there to hold me when my mom was dying, telling me life is not all that scary. I wish there was someone who would have told me there was nothing wrong with me when the bullies were calling me names, or my step-mom was yelling at me. Lord do I wish there’d been someone to tell me that just because the boys didn’t like me, I wasn’t unlovable. When people asked me if I was anorexic because I was skinny, I wish there’d been someone there to tell me that skinny is pretty too. I wish someone would have just made me understand how gorgeous a person I was. What a beautiful human being I was. How lovable I was.

I really feel for the girl I once was. Watching it from the outside, all the panic, the fear, the sadness, the loneliness she felt and how she blamed herself over and over again for it. It seems absurd now, but she thought she was worthless because it was all her fault. She hated herself for others leaving her, or being mean to her. She kept trying to identify what was wrong with her. Why she was unlovable and how to solve it. There had to be something strange, because she was not mean to people, so why were they mean to her? What was wrong with her?

At the age of seventeen I went to Vancouver. One night, due to a row of events, I had a panic attack, only I didn’t know what it was. As it happened my host mom was angry with me, so she thought I was faking it and left me lying in a heap on the floor – only opening the door to the garden for fresh air. I had to crawl up on my own. I couldn’t call my dad as he was away in travels. It was too late to call someone in Vancouver. So I sat there thinking I might just die. I then swore that if I survived I would open a nursery for street children as no one should have to feel like I did then and there, or for that matter, other times in my childhood too. No one. Yet, I felt no sympathy for the girl who sat there herself. She was just a girl who on a daily basis fought her own insecurities, thinking the world would never love her unless she made herself more outgoing and cool. Unless she succeeded in becoming rich and famous. Her only true friend was her dreams – they didn’t hurt her. They just fueled her. So she set out to achieve them and her whole life changed. So did she, but the thoughts on the inside never completely changed. Not until today. Not until I saw that movie.

Do you know what your eyes look like when you feel loved? Do you know how they sparkle? Do you know how beautiful you are? Look at your hands – do they ever make something for you? Look at your feet – do they ever take you places? Look at your mouth – does it ever make you taste things? Look at you – aren’t you gorgeous? Aren’t you worth all the love in the world? Isn’t that just a beautiful person?

That would be me…hiding in there…almost stark naked…

Hello…

I was at the airport today, because due to some sort of event extraordinaire, it was once again open. Whilst there, I saw a couple of families with kids.

Two siblings, both boys, were standing in front of me in the check in line. I don’t know how old they were, but I’m guessing 4 and 2. As their mom checked in another family was checking in next to them. A boy, maybe 3 or 4, was with that family. As the kids met, they stood about a meter or less apart and stared at each other. They didn’t say anything, they just looked at one another. It was as if they recognized that they had something in common – they were all kids and they were boys. It was as if they were trying to take this in. Figure each other out.

One little one who was waiting by the gate was standing looking around at all the people, who were smiling at him. It was like he was checking everyone out, trying to make out what kind of people they were.

When you get older you don’t stare at people. This is rude. Instead you quickly glance at someone and make up your mind about them. Rude to stare. Right. Yet, in those few seconds you made up your mind about a person. I’m not saying you can’t – if you know people, you know a lot from just looking at them for a few seconds, but you don’t know the whys, now do you? Or you know why that person became that way? Unless you are a mind reader, and I mean a real one, not a mentalist, it would be hard to know.

I was looking out the bus window the other day. The bus was driving through a field next to the sea. It was a grayish day, filled with clouds. I thought about painting the scenery – it was a perfect watercolor. I pondered on the colors I would use. It seemed obvious, right – grays, whites and greens. No, not so. Soon I discovered that just about every other color was also hiding in the fields and the sky that day.

People are like landscapes in a way – some are like mountains, others like the sea, yet others like the fields. We are different, but within the make-up of each person is the same rainbow of colors, if some more prominent than others.

We all like kids. Maybe because we know they are unlikely to judge us if we are nice to them, whereas grown-ups will judge us even if we are nice to them. Nor are kids very set in their ways, so it might be easier for us to get along with them.

Of course we all have more, or less, in common with certain people and it has been proven that within seconds you will figure out whom you have the most in common with in a group. Even though we don’t have that much in common with someone though, it doesn’t mean that they are bad people, or that we have the right to look down on them. If we understood a person’s past, their thoughts and emotional states, I think it would be very hard for us to judge them. We might not want to necessarily be friends with them, but when you understand someone it’s hard not to feel some sort of connection. After all, the color palette is the same. And I’ll be damned if you can’t learn something from everyone you meet. So if that is to diminish the part of you that’s like them, but maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised and learn that within them, just as within you, somewhere there is gold.

I think people watch TV, read books and go to the movies to see what other people think like, to somehow belong with them a bit and through their journey get to understand themselves a bit better. Yet, when we meet each other in life we often focus on what makes us so different from one another. Because let’s face it – we have no great adventure to relate to, as we don’t know them. We cannot see their adventure (even if we know them, we only see them in the moment, not in the perspective of time – we are not watching the journey, we are part of it), hence we just judge their behavior.

When I paint a portrait of someone I always find beauty in their features, because they tell a tale, a journey. When I meet someone in the street I register their general style, mood and behavior. I have no time to look for their journey. No time to find beauty. Or do I? Am I just blind? Am I stressing to make millions when I could be engaging in life? Do I care more about Louis Vuitton (or, well, my “oh so exciting” business that will, praise the lord, hopefully buy my a new handbag…well you know my old Vuitton is falling to pieces, so it’s about time…;)) than taking a moment to just be with someone. Not just be there, but be with them?

I realize that when I spend time with certain relatives I get bored. I want to go back to working on something. The only reason I’m bored is because I am not focused. So if I don’t agree with them in everything, I could at least pay them the courtesy of truly being there for them, with them. And learn something new about the person right in front of me.

When I saw this little kid at the airport looking around at everyone it baffled me how easy it can be to forget about what matters most – the person standing right in front of you. Next time I meet someone I would love just to stand stare them in the eye for a while. Study them. All of them. And instead of thinking it’s rude, I think staring is the greatest compliment you could ever pay someone.

People say that you’re going the wrong way when it’s simply a way of your own.

I don’t believe in guilt, I believe in living on impulse as long as you never intentionally hurt another person, and don’t judge people in your life. I think you should live completely free.

Love one person, take care of them until you die. You know, raise kids. Have a good life. Be a good friend. And try to be completely who you are. And figure out what you personally love. And like go after it with everything you’ve got no matter how much it takes.

That’s the reason we kind of exist. It’s like our Job. To give to each other. And learn from each other. To capture moments of people. So it’s really strange to have somebody ignore the obvious human being right in front of them.

– Angelina Jolie

Why don’t you come with me?…(“coz I’m a gypsy, I might steal ur clothes and wear them if they fit me…”)

“I’m sitting on a railway station, got a ticket for my destination…” (or the story of my life) – Simon & Garfunkel

As I started writing this post I was sitting on my friend’s couch in London. I continued writing on Victoria train station. Then, after desperately trying to figure out where the heck Pret A Manger had moved to, before realizing I was at Gatwick, not Stanstead, I wrote some there. I continued my musings airborne somewhere between London and Copenhagen. As I finish it now I am in a tiny village (so small there isn’t even a shop, or a bus stop, only fifty odd houses or so and a harbor) in the Swedish countryside.

Mysterious smells, colorful fabrics, exotic tastes, amazing sceneries, incredible adventures… If you, like me, sat by the seaside dreaming of sailors from the 18th and 19th century when you were a kid, you have probably had these images sweeping through your mind, like vivid paintings filled with sensations. If you, like me, dreamt of being someone always on a journey of discoveries and learnings, you probably know that it feels like an urge inside of you. If you, like me, were addicted to the mysteries and possibilities of life, you know how easy it is to get caught up in it. If you, like me, are a dreamer with an insatiable lust for life, then you know what I mean when I say it’s like having the wind calling your name constantly – you just simply can’t resist it. It’s like being under a spell and before you know it you are heading somewhere new – whether in your mind or on the road.

I have, for as long as I can remember, been addicted to journeys – both in my mind and on the road. I must have been what, two weeks old when I first set foot on a boat? Something like that. Every summer I’d spend a month on the sea, traveling from harbor to harbor. I ended up feeling more at home on the boat than in our homes on land. Maybe because I was teased in school and the summers were my break from it, or because the homes on land kept changing. The boats kept changing too, but at least we kept returning to many of the same places.

When I was three months old my parents took me to France for the first time. My grandparents had a timeshare there and I was to return several times. Even if I didn’t go there every year, I would get treats each November – olives, cheese, candy (coffee bonbons from Italy – yum!)…

We also went on sun vacations and trips to Finland, Germany, etc. I liked the sun the best. Made me relax and feel alive. People seemed happier, more laid back. Not so obsessed about designer shoes and the latest hairstyle. (Says the chic sitting in her Prada bling-bling glasses, ahem…)

I traveled abroad on my own for the first time when I was 14 – to Isle of Wight (rainy!) – and since then I’ve gone all over the place. Somehow I’ve also managed to live for shorter, or longer, periods of time in Vancouver, Paris, London, LA and, of course, Sweden.

My mind went on different paths because I spent a lot of time on my own as a kid and read more books than was probably considered healthy. I started to question everything, because I read so many different points of views. And I got ideas. A surplus of them. They drive me nuts, because I’m also incredibly creative, so I have to execute them in one way or the other, or they float around in the back of my mind, annoying the hell out of me. So for me, creating movies and building companies became my dream path, because I can execute my ideas.

Apart from my family, who keep insisting I settle down and get married (my dad is pro the settling down bit, my gran is pro the marrying bit and my sister is pro become an aunt…), everyone thinks I’m living a most exciting life. Up until recently though, it hasn’t been all that exciting, because it has felt like I was fighting a war.

People say I’m brave for following my dreams, but what they don’t realize is that it was never a choice for me – I get so miserably unhappy when I do something else it isn’t really a possibility. Some people are addicted to drugs, I’m addicted to living a certain kind of life. That doesn’t make it easy following my dreams though. Sometimes the dreams themselves feel more like a jail than liberation. Because being some sort of mix between a strict business person, a mad entrepreneur, an even crazier artist and a gypsy, just doesn’t always make sense. And to become a successful entrepreneur and movie director, unless you slide in on a banana peel through contacts and was born knowing how to do it all, it just ain’t easy. I don’t know how many times I have looked at nine to fivers that have lived their whole life in one town, wishing I was like them. Wishing that I was not up till two am working on some crazy project, living on a shoestring budget (no, it’s not glamorous and interesting being a poor artist and entrepreneur, just get rid of that romantic notion right now). Wishing my friends weren’t spread out all over the world. Wishing I had some sort of safety net (well with the years I guess my friends and contacts have become one – everywhere I go I am looked after by the most wonderful people you could possibly imagine, but they don’t give you health insurance, paid vacation, or for that matter – pay for your kids college degrees).

So many times I’ve cursed myself for being who I am until, finally, I gave up. Yes, I’m always on some sort of crazy adventure, or undertaking some sort of mad venture or another, and I’m either out of love, or in love with someone equally crazy human being and no, it’s not always easy, but it’s who I am. I learn with the years. I become smarter, but I am still me. The thing is – you can either work against yourself, or with yourself. As my friend said yesterday “Well, you may surprise me and marry one of the Joneses, or Browns, but it is highly unlikely. From what I know, it just ain’t gonna happen. Nor are you ever going to settle down with a normal job until you have tried every possible way of doing what you love, which is your own projects. And that’s just it – that’s who you are.” I used to curse that – why can’t I fall in love with Mr Oh So Nice And Secure and get the equally nice and secure nine to five? Why can’t I go to cocktail parties and enjoy talking about nothing? I guess because that’s just not me. Maybe being me is crazy, or as the French say “bizarre.” The point is: It’s me. I am me. Life might have shaped me, but at some stage or another, I agreed to it – I became that shape and I can either fully embrace it and enjoy it, or continue to feel stupid for it. I prefer the former.

Maybe it’s the same for all of us – we became a certain person, but it took us years to learn how to be that person in a way that suits us – i.e. playing the cards in our favor (instead of the cards playing us in a rather random fashion). I guess it is called the school of hard knocks – you learn your flaws by committing mistakes and you educate yourself to turn them into advantages (and then you practice some before you nail it). It took me some time to not wake up at 2am wondering hat the heck was going to become of me (I finally sat down and figured out plan A, B and C and realized that I will do well in the end, so I might as well stop worrying) and it took me even longer to appreciate who I am, even if I’m not who everyone appreciates. Since I have let go of my fears and embraced being me (so if I still try to get rid of some nasty ideas and habits…like trying to run to meetings full speed in high heels…), life has become magical. I’m still learning, but instead of beating myself up along the way and wishing I was somewhat different, I fully enjoy myself.

Now I guess I just have to find Mr Right too to join me on this crazy venture, so I can at least calm down some parts of my family. But he’s gotta be as crazy nuts as I am, because he can screw me if I am wrong and fuck me if I am right, but I like my life!!!

“‘Coz I’m a gypsy…are you coming with me?…” – Shakira

Nudity…

Around two am this morning I was riding on a friend’s shoulders through Camden Town, eating raw ice cream. Now, to walk through Camden in an Armani suit is probably a lot more weird than what we were doing. Yet, I saw one person give me a look like “what the fuck?!?!” And somehow it got me thinking.

Yesterday I talked about how we play with words – how we may undress, or dress our words so as to avoid speaking the truth, but at the same time speaking the truth. I.e. we play little games – either because it’s fun (like flirting), or because we are scared and want an exit plan if someone should disagree with our words, or the intention behind them. So I thought a lot about being naked. Of stripping bare. Is it scary? If so, what’s there to be afraid of? Yourself?

Someone told me when I started this blog that I was brave, because just imagine – I was sharing who I am rather openly. Like it was a risk. What’s the risk in it though? People may not like it. People may give me shit for it. And I may change my opinion tmrw. but I cannot hide what I used to think. Fine. But what if what I feed them every day is not me? Then what? Well, what I am then is someone living a lie. And don’t tell me that that’s not who I truly am, because that is me – choosing to be a lie every day. What’s the risk of that? Never living at all.

People behave like the truth is painful. I think it’s all the lies that are painful. The lies make us scared of who we are, when it’s being who we are that brings us all the freedom.

You have been hypnotized since you were born into thinking what’s right and wrong and what your goals in life should be. I know all this. Yet, I feel more comfortable with people that I know think similar thoughts to me. People that won’t question me. People that have a similar outlook in life. I still start squirming when I sit next to someone who is having a conversation about the latest issue of Elle Magazine and lipstick. I simply don’t know what to say. And I am certain the person will not like me. So I really try to think of something to say that suits who they are. I still want to be liked. To be liked of course all you have to do is like yourself for who you are. So that you can relax when you sit next to someone that is everything that society ever said you ought to be without feeling weird. Because nine times out of ten it’s not them not liking you. It’s you not liking you. It’s you thinking you have to be someone else.

When was the last time you left everything comfortable behind and decided to spend time with people that either question everything that you have chosen to become, or whom you feel completely unrelated to? When was the last time you showed up as a punk if you normally wear Armani suits and in an Armani suit if you normally dress like a punk? When was the last time you just showed up without any attitude? Sat next to someone just being, rather than having to be? When was the last time you sat with yourself enjoying you?

In Sweden we aren’t too fussed about being in the nude. As I see it you have a body that you can either be proud of or curse. There are certain aspects you are in control of and you can therefore change them if you don’t like them. Other aspects just are. You can display them, or you can try to hide them. You can turn them into something positive, or you can ponder on their negativity. You can enjoy what you have, or curse what you don’t have. In either case what you have you have. It’s still there no matter what you do with it. Sure we all have goals of how we wish to look tomorrow, but we are where we are in this moment, on whatever journey we are on to becoming. Either you fight this moment, or you release it. Either you are proud to be naked, or ashamed to be naked. Either you flaunt what you have or you cover it up underneath layers and layers of clothes. In either case you are naked underneath those clothes.

How comfortable are you being completely naked around the people in your life? Around strangers? (And no, I’m not talking about taking your clothes off here…)