Tag Archives: fairytale

Maybe that night we make love till morning…

Sometimes we feel small and insignificant. Much like a tiny girl, walking up a massive mountain. We aren’t quite sure of where we are, or where we will end up. We have an idea of where we want to go – to the top – but the path is winding and we can’t always see the top – there is fog, trees and sometimes fires blocking the sight.

There are nights, when we are curled up by the fire watching a starry sky, and we feel calm and serene, and the path we are walking feels like the loveliest thing ever. Our muscles are tired after a day’s worth of climbing, in fact we are feeling tired through and through, but a good tired – we lived. We lived to the full and we are still buzzing, still filled with life and life force. We are almost giddy with excitement of all the wonders we have seen and are yet to see. Our eyes are still glazed with the beauty of butterflies catching the morning breeze underneath their wings, or the glorious sight of rainbows and waterfalls. Maybe a sudden thunderstorm filled us with power, with lust and then a gentle drizzle calmed our spirits shortly after, only to be followed by sunshine that made us laugh.

We may be sharing our camp fire with some exhilarating stranger we have met whose faces tell tales of faraway countries and adventures more fearful, more wild than we could ever imagine…or maybe adventures so sweet and lustful we can only dream of….and maybe, maybe one day achieve. Or maybe we are sharing the fire with gorgeous loved ones who are accompanying us on our journey and feel as familiar as our favorite spice.

Maybe the night is filled with laughter and excited whispers and tender words. Maybe children are playing and grown-ups smiling. And maybe, long after the kids have gone to bed, everyone is sharing tales that make our heart sing. Maybe we have found a boy whose eyes are sparkling in the moonlight and seemingly reflecting not just the moon, but our own soul, making us feel understood. Maybe for that moment it all makes sense – the search, the climb, the path that we are now on. Maybe that night we make love till  the morning.

At other times we are utterly lost – it’s raining, our knees are aching, we can’t see the top of the mountain – we are walking upwards, but we have no idea if we will ever reach the top, or at least find enough treasure to buy a fire that is always burning, a bottle that is always full, a bed that is always protected and love that is always tender. We are fearful, tired and soaked to our bones. We seek the light in our soul, the inner warmth, the love we know is hidden there, but the fear is overwhelming and the panic seemingly real as the night closes in on us and we shiver.

We  think about friends we have lost, lovers that crossed our path. We think about the chances we never took and those we should never have taken. We think about our own death and wonder where we will be then? Will we have reached the top? Or will we still be fearful and lonely?

We try to fight it, to be strong, but we only get angrier and angrier with ourselves when we do – because we are meant to be strong, right? We are meant to conquer the rain and walk with joy in our heart. We are meant to have learnt enough to find our way by the stars. We aren’t supposed to be lost, or lonely, or tired, or hungry. We are supposed to know better, be better.

Then, we give up. We remember what being truly tiny meant – what it was like being a child. When the world felt large and scary and we jumped up into our parents, or siblings laps and cried, or were just held tight. We were stil told that we were beautiful, that we were loved. No one gave up on us because we slipped and fell. They just hugged us better. We remember that it was OK then. OK to be lost and frightened and sooner, or later we found our way – whether by ourselves, or with the help of others. We felt tiny back then too. We felt scared back then too. But we weren’t angry with ourselves. We just were. We just allowed ourselves to be and somehow, somewhere, we always found the love we needed to find, the light to lit up the deepest night.

Then we take a moment to rest. We sink down, our back towards a cold fir-tree. The cold, suddenly intense against our back, awakens us. We look around. We see a tiny hare, followed by another tiny hare, looking out at us from underneath the bushes. We slowly reach out our hand. We are in desolate parts where man rarely walks and the hares have not yet learnt to fear us. We slowly look at them, as they are looking at us. In their eyes we see our own fear and trepidation reflected. We see curiosity and hope. We see warmth and love.

One of the hares slowly, slowly moves over, seeing whether to trust us. And then, with a final jump it is by our hand, sniffing it. Its nose feels warm against our cold skin. It keeps sniffing around, then suddenly jumps up, into our lap, and looks at us with big eyes. The other hare now follows, carefully, but bravely, seeing the success of its fellow friend. And then, you have them both in your lap, sharing their warmth, their lives with you.

Everywhere the rain is drizzling, turning the wood into a hazy, almost surreal place. The raindrops glisten in the final hour of dusk and the sun is making one last effort to shine through, turning everything golden. You feel a little warmth from it against your skin and the hares’ body heat radiating through your clothes, into your stiff, frozen bones. For a moment you are sharing your life with two other creatures, like yourself, trying to stay warm, find food, love and happiness. You are helping each other, understanding one another. Suddenly life has conquered and you once again feel calm – inside a new dawn has awoken.

You feel fresh. Every part of you has been shaken – you have been lost and you are still lost, but inside you have found the light. You know that as night comes rolling in you will eat some food that strengthen your body and find peace in your dreams. You will then awaken with the sun and move towards new horizons. Maybe with some furry friends by your side.

It is impossible to know if we will ever reach the top of any mountain. Life is an adventure and as such, we know that there will be struggle, there will be loss, but what will always save us is our own life force, our own love of that which surrounds us, that which we do and those whom we love, including ourselves.

We will continue to get lost and we will continue to get found. Storms will shake us and events move us. We will lose what we have found and move on to find love in unexpected places.

The best we can do is find our own heart, our own peace. We can never know what storm is coming next, or how far we will get the next day. We can only continue to move with a purpose in our heart, which gives meaning to our journey. We can continue to build love in our heart, which will strengthen us and keep us calm in the eye of the storm. We can surround ourselves by love, by doing what we love and taking time to build friendships with those we love, or those we think we will come to love. We can give of what we have, as well as our gifts, our talents, and share our lives with others.

We can love and with love always comes a treasure.

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The wind is blowing…

They come like whirlwinds, or breezes at night. They sneak in, or they arrive with a storm. Some twirl around for a while, creating patterns, or disruptions. Others gently stroke one’s skin with tenderness. It happens they stay for an hour, a day, a year, or a lifetime. Whatever their role, you find out as you go along…twirl along.

With the years I’ve come to expect the disruptions, the tenderness, the patterns and the storms…when the wind blows and the bell chimes I know that there will be change, I just don’t know which kind.

When I was younger I always thought that the change would be the best ever. That this time it was “It.” The wind would stay, it wouldn’t suddenly move away, or cause havoc. Now I only expect change. One kind, or another.

I’ve learnt that some winds just don’t move in the same direction. You have to follow your heart, they have to follow theirs. When the hearts speak the same language, that’s when you can actually talk…fly together in a dance.

I’ve never been able to predict the winds, yet they have been very predictable because of the ways I’m blowing myself…always moving, always changing, always craving more, better, higher… Only when I’m constantly striving do I feel satisfied. Constantly moving along.

The most surprising thing is that it’s not the winds one think one will, that one ends up remembering. It’s the most unlikely of winds that actually made you change direction…change course and left an imprint on your heart…

It takes a lot of courage to fully engage with a wind, because you never know where it will take you…in which direction it will blow you…but when you let yourself go entirely you are swept off your feet in the most marvelous adventure. You experience yourself through them, with them, and you see life in a different way. You get a new pair of eyes to lend you their sights.

I love it when they sort of whistle your name, because they are so you…the pure sight of them makes you dance and twirl and…fly. Fly so high and so fast and so wonderfully deliriously exhilaratingly crazy. They are the rough, unexpected winds that leave you smiling for a long time after…or forever dancing…

Ride like the Wind

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Filed under Dancing, Joy, Liberty, Life, Love, Men, relationships, Story, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Women, Writing

Knights v.s. investment bankers…

We’ve all heard the fairy tales – since we were kids time and time again we have been told the story of a Knight in shining armor riding to fetch his Princess. Sounds a hell of a lot more romantic than the Investment Banker (who had gotten tired of one-night-stands) sat down in the bar after a long day, laid eyes on a Journalist (who was tired of emotional fuckwitages, fuck buddies and fucking lousy lovers), bought her a drink and that was that. Boring plot.

Now, in reality, I guess it doesn’t matter where and when you lay eyes on your darling to be, but I have contemplated this knight’s tale for a while and I think there is some truth to it. Let me explain:

Us women live with the idea of one day this bloke will come riding into our lives and we will recognize him easily as he will be standing underneath our window fighting dragons (and if not, at least defy our father and climb up to our balcony to declare his never-ending love for us). The thing is, usually we are not sitting stuck in some tower guarded by dragons. No, we tend to stumble upon him in all other weird kind of settings – from match.com to the local pub. So how the heck do we know it is him? He’s come to save us of course! No, truly he has come to save us from singledom, but for us to give up this nice secure tower where we have locked our heart up, he better well save us with some sort of glorious deed. How else will we know that it is he? Why else would we trust him with our heart? No clue. Therefore, he has to fight. Basically, he has to climb the tower and fight the dragons (I’m sad to say I don’t own any dragons to let loose on him, although between my sister and my best friend, he better watch out) so instead he will have to fight for us in other ways. That is to say: he can’t take no for an answer, he’s gotta be prepared to move mountains to be with us (whether that be to defy his mother’s opinion of us, or drive 50 miles a day to see us), he has to believe he can outdo all the other suitors out there and he better be doing his chase in style – from text messages to surprises, he’s gotta be a good warrior – if he does not stand out from the crowd, we won’t recognize him, nor trust him. We will not give a Knight our heart unless he puts up a fight.

Men, on the other hand, have been told that they will have to fight for their fair maiden. In other words – they will not go after a woman who does not expect them to fight for her. Unless they get to fight, how will they know that it is she? They won’t. They need to feel like they fought a war to win her heart – whether that was to be a master in coming up with clever dates, defy her best friend’s wishes (in my case: forget it – if she doesn’t like you, you are out the door in a heartbeat), save her life, outdo a gazillion other suitors, or move Heaven and Earth to be with her. Besides, she needs to be skilled enough in winning his trust, so that once they have fought bravely and climbed all the way up to her chamber in the tower, she is able to remove their armor, piece by piece, until she finds the man underneath it. No man will allow this unless he feels sure he has won her heart.

Of course, after the fighting has taken place the Knight and the Princess need to prove their abilities by making each other feel like King and Queen, as once you have been given a heart, your duty is to look after it and make it beat stronger and stronger by the hour. Else it is likely that the heart will take flight.

What say you dear readers? Is there any truth to this? I guess sometimes it’s reverse roles and the woman does the fighting and the man gets rescued, but it seems to me that many women sit in towers and many men hide under armor, and until a fight takes places, both are stuck in their hiding places. Love is, after all, to understand someone; to truly see them and feel for them and most of us don’t let anyone see our heart unless we think they deserves it – either because they are good at fighting, or they are good at disarming us. It’s very easy to have a crush on someone you know you will never get; the imaginary Knight or Princess, but to actually commit in the real world takes quite something. Or well, at least it takes someone walking straight into one’s life and claiming one’s heart, fully confident that they will get it, only most people don’t do that, as they are unsure of whether they want it or not. Hence, a fight is in place to make it all that more exciting and give us the feeling that the trophy is all that more valuable. There’s a truth to the saying “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” It may also be that you don’t know what you’ve got till you’ve had to fight for it.

There’s gotta be some reason why armor and amour are such similar words…so now with your amour, disarm someone of their armor…the cheese factor just reached 10,000 on a scale of 1 to 100….

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Filed under Courage, Dating, Humor, Life, Love, Men, Relationship, relationships, Self-confidence, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Women