Tag Archives: sailor

One life, one love…

So it’s still I challenge you to love month. My emotional challenges vary daily. Today I decided to write a few love poems. I just wrote whatever came to mind, or came to heart if you so like. I really dislike posting it, because it makes me cringe, so that’s why I’m doing it: it’s a challenge. It makes me cringe because it’s not a consciously nicely written post. It’s a post written without thinking, allowing parts of me I don’t even agree with to come out.

Whatever part of me that wrote it, whether grand, or small and insignificant, whether amazingly wonderful, or totally messed up….whatever the part, it is part of me and I would like to uncover myself all the way until I reach my heart, my core and live from that core every single day. I think the way to do that is to acknowledge every part of me. To love and heal every part of me. To gently, gently love myself open. And for me that means allowing the girl with the broken heart to speak. The girl who has had a broken heart for more years than she can remember. It’s allowing the girl who loves so much she’s ashamed of her love to speak. The girl who felt her love was never welcomed and tried to hide it somewhere deep inside. It’s allowing all that, coming to peace with all that and going beyond all that and becoming the woman who simply loves. Loves all.

It is one life, one love. That’s all there is: your life and how much love you pour into it. To hold back in any way is folly. I want to live my heart. To do so, I have to shed all the layers of memories, beliefs, guidelines about myself and life… Acknowledge them, accept them, love them and let go of them. Writing without thinking (which for me often is writing sort of poetry) is quite a good way of doing that, because you let yourself speak the truth. Then you can accept it, love it and move on.

It’s been years since I wrote poetry. I used to write poetry (or whatever you want to call the maze of words that came out onto the paper) all the time. This is a tiny piece, one of the shortest I’ve written. I will now move onto my next challenge: write love poems about people who have touched my heart and write a love poem about myself. I’m already cringing so I feel this will be good. Maria coming to terms with being Maria.

Like a gentle morning
His eyes awakening
Sun streams of summer
Glory of dawn
The power of the ocean
The call of the sailor
Awake, awake and away
Forget, forget the sailor that sailed by

Sailor is a metaphor…and a metaphor I like given I’m a sailor girl…

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

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.


2 Comments

Filed under dreams, Inspiration, Joy, Life, Love, Men, People, poetry, Relationship, relationships, Story, Thoughts, Traveling, Uncategorized, Women, Writing

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

4 Comments

Filed under dreams, entrepreneurialism, Film, Joy, Life, Love, Men, Personal Development, Relationsip, Thoughts, Traveling, Uncategorized, Women