Tag Archives: friendship

Pour some chocolate sauce on top…

Chocolate sauce is a very useful ingredient. A very indulgent, delicious and useful ingredient. Sometimes I don’t use it very often though. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I had chocolate sauce.

Chocolate sauce, of course has to be of good quality. If you pour bad quality chocolate sauce on something, that something gets ruined. We’ve all had “fake” over the top sweet chocolate sauce made with ingredients that aren’t natural. Terrible.

Now, chocolate sauce is a little bit like compliments: when honest and pure they’re indulgent, sweet and wonderful. They make any friendship blossom, they make lovers see stars and they make random strangers smile like the sun when you pour some on them.

We often take friends and lovers for granted. What we first saw as unique becomes commonplace. We get used to it. As we get used to it, we forget to compliment it. Sometimes we even forget it exists.

Other times we note something as wonderful, but we don’t share it. It doesn’t occur to us to do so. We say we love someone, so why do we have to also tell them they’re kind, we love their cooking, they’ve got the hottest butt, they are great at doing their job, they have the brightest smile…?

I’ve said this many times, but whatever grows stagnant dies. Relationships (as well as we, ourselves, our work, etc.) need to develop to be any good, but they also need to shine. They need to sparkle. And we all sparkle when we receive genuine, true to the heart, compliments.

When you find something you love, pour some sweet, dark, decadent and indulgent chocolate sauce on it. After all, you’re likely the one who gets to taste the chocolate sauce, because most people will let you lick it off… (Which is a metaphor for them being happy and you being around their happiness. In case you were wondering.)

So dear readers, I hereby challenge you to pour chocolate sauce on at least ten people in the coming week…and include some whom you wouldn’t normally pour chocolate sauce on. You’d be surprised to see how even grapefruit people turn into oranges with the right amount of chocolate sauce, but I believe I’m losing track of my metaphors now so it’s time to stop writing…

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Image Source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/507780926727245385/ 

 

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Filed under Friendship, Inspiration, Inspirational, Motivation, relationships, Uncategorized

Love is a beautiful battle…

A few weeks ago I was having a phone conversation with my best friend. I had flown to Athens to see her and was really looking forward to seeing her, so I was trying to arrange a meeting. She launched into a monologue about what her schedule looked like, that she never came into central Athens during the weekend, or evenings, when I was free, she was so busy and blah, blah, blah.

I had had a shit week, I had PMS and the one thing that kept me going was the idea of alone time, on a beach, or anywhere in nature, with my best friend. As I did have PMS I was struggling with an insane amount of thinking I was unlovable, so by the time I hung up the phone, ready to cry because somehow I had now triggered my best friend into treating me unlovingly as well, I felt like shit.

I knew I had to do two things: I had to tell my best friend she was behaving like a twat and I had to excuse myself for, most likely, trying to provoke her into behaving like a twat. Because if you feel unlovable, you provoke people into doing things to prove you right. And you have to understand, when I have PMS you can tell me I have coffee on my nose and I will think you hate me, or that you are the biggest idiot alive, the world has come to an end and we can all just prepare for doomsday.

So I wrote my best friend a funny message about PMS where I pointed out the above. As it turned out, she had turned around and just yelled at her boyfriend a few hours later and he had calmly picked up the calendar and told her she had PMS.

She had had social demands on her, for a week, so when I told her to come into Athens she lost it, because she had PMS.

I didn’t enjoy messaging my friend to sort out whatever weird “actions” (drama school language for mental as well as physical actions we have towards people) and purposes (drama school language for what our psychological gain is for doing something) we had during that conversation, but my relationship with her is a lot more valuable to me than my discomfort is discomforting.

Which brings me to the next point.

Last night I came home after a long day. I had been rockclimbing the day before (amazing!) and spent all of yesterday out with friends. You see, last week, I decided that it was time for me to do what I love in order to build my spirit and regain my strenght, so as to have strenght to work and get back to the kids after visa hick-up number four. I had an incredbile weekend, but I was physically spent. That’s when I received a message from my baby girl in Cape Town.

As some of you know I help raise a pair of ten-year-old twins and their now one-year-old baby brother in the township and I’ve fought visas and adoption rules for about four years; having known them for five. This journey is the hardest journey I’ve ever had and I’ve been on the brink of emotional collapse more than once.

Last night I got all these messages saying she loves me, the baby has taken his first steps, and then she sent me this crying emoji and I asked her why. She’s like “it’s just the baby ❤ ❤ ❤ ” and I said I wish I was there to hold him and she sent the below picture. Cue me bursting into tears. She even found an image with the right skin tones. I don’t know why that made me more emotional, but it did.

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I had just been thinking of how tired I am. I have spent you don’t want to know how much money setting up a business and going round the world on a visa mission to be with these kids and I’ve messed up my career, my social life and my life in general and I’m beyond exhausted. Sometimes I don’t know how to keep going.

At that moment, all I wanted was a hug. Not from a friend, but from a man. It’s all I’ve wanted since I started helping the kids, because I’ve wanted someone to be there for me. Support me. Not do my job for me, just be there. Just hug me. And it’s the kind of intimacy you’ll never get from a friend, because it feels different. Friends help, but a relationship is intimate on a whole other level.

Yet, a few weeks ago when I was talking to my coach and he was giving me “love goals” I was telling him I didn’t understand how to achieve them, because let’s face it: I might know a gazillion things about relationships, and I might get 800 men swiping right on Tinder in a few weeks (true story, ego hallelujah), but falling in love makes me feel so terribly uncomfortable (unlovable and not good enough) that I spend most of my time trying to become perfect (impossible) and end up giving up on the whole thing because it’s too uncomfortable feeling like I’m not perfect.

This is when my coach told me that he’s seen me with the kids for five years and no matter what life threw me, I didn’t stop. Nothing stopped me.

I remember thinking when gran got senile and I was helping her in the bathroom, that love isn’t pretty, but it is beautiful. Love isn’t easy, but it is worth it. And my childhood didn’t make it easy for me to accept love, instead I strove to be perfect feeling I wasn’t good enough. I’ve often felt my adult life has been a long fight of not giving into the demons of my childhood; a long fight of opening myself up to love and joy and letting go of depression and self-hatred.

The question maybe I should ask myself is this: if my kids and best friend are worth me overcoming my demons, my fears and my discomfort, maybe my own happiness (a.k.a being loved by a man I truly have a connection with) would be worth the same? It’s a question of will.

I’m not perfect. My best friend isn’t perfect. My gran wasn’t perfect. My kids aren’t perfect. But we are all perfectly lovable. And it is perfectly possible to create great relationships. You just wade through the discomfort, is all. Because it is worth it.

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Image Source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/507780926727114399/

 

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You are simply beautiful to some…

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Today, as I was getting out of the tube, one person laid eyes on someone they knew and started waving. I could only see this person’s back, but the smile on the receiving end (the guy he was waving at) was so big it made me smile. And that’s life. It’s so beautiful when two people really appreciate one another – when they bring smiles to each other’s faces. When they share this world, so if only for a while.

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Gorgeous you and incredible me…

Cafe in Paris

Who will fill these seats next? Who will share their lives, if so only for a moment?

I was out having coffee with some friends last week. For some reason the meeting entered my mind today and suddenly a beautiful thought hit me: you meet people just to enjoy their company. Maybe that’s obvious, but isn’t it also beautiful? You go somewhere just to sit down and enjoy someone’s presence. To see them smile, to hear their laughter, to listen to their pain, to laugh at their jokes, to get entertained by their stories, to be intrigued by their minds, to share their life…to enjoy them and support them. To get happy for them and try to remove their sorrow from them. It may so be that I am corny, but I think this is absolutely amazing…just to sit there and indulge in someone’s presence…

 

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I said hello, you fool, I love you…come on and join the joyride…

Yeah, I’m quoting Roxette. It’s alright. I have an excuse: I’m Swedish. When walking around town the other day my best friend looked at me and did a little jump: “I love you,” she said and laughed. I told her I loved her too. It’s emotional discomfort month and I had forgotten to tell her I loved her thus far that day. She has taken such a joy in this habit she now reminds me if I forget to say it.

People change with love. Their features soften. Their smiles shine brighter. Their hearts grow warmer. They look cozy, comfortable and inviting.

A Thing About You

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When you see beauty…..a smile, a look, a touch of that thing……….when you see something you love, do you share that? Do you tell the person what beauty you just caught a glimpse of? Do you invite them to open the door to their inner gorgeousness just a tad more? Do you open that door yourself? Do you allow yourself to feel happy about who you are? Do you invite others to see the beauty that is you?

I don’t know darlings, but this emotional discomfort month is changing my life…and that of those around me. I feel…I feel more alive. More on fire. More like a light rather than a shadow. More intense. More awake. More pulsating and warm. More free. I’m not just sharing my opinions, I’m sharing my emotions, my love and my heartfelt desires with the world. The jail I always felt captured me is now crumbling to dust. I am free.

By complimenting someone you are setting them free from their worst demons: their own disbelief in themselves. Their own negative thoughts are being conquered. They think you are their mirror. If you display joy, they will believe they are joy. If you display love, they will believe they are love. If you smile, they will think they are the reason for your smile.

Maybe your love alone will not transform the entire world…yet it will because everything you touch, that is capable of feeling your touch, will turn to gold. And that gold in turn will turn other things into gold. Your warmth will spread. Your light will brighten the night sky and you will be surrounded by your own light.

And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while…’cuz you are amazing just the way you are…

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Knock baby, knock, knock…

You know the feeling right? When you hear that knock on the door…your heart stops for a while to listen…then beats a tad faster as you are wondering “Who could it be?” You throw a glance in the mirror and try to untangle your hair and get the chocolate off your upper lip… Then you stand up a bit taller and pull the door open.

When I was a kid I remember my new school teacher telling me that a few houses away lived another girl who was one year older. So at the age of six, I happily walked over, knocked on the door and asked if we could play. In the summers the kids on the other boats we were sailing with would come knock on the boat. In the winters my friends would come knock on our door… A knock meant play time. A knock meant good times. A knock meant a friend.

Someone knocked on our door last week. I opened to find a friend outside and was happily surprised. He had said he was gonna come round that week. I don’t know if it was because my best friend invariably fails to keep her cell phone on, or because he didn’t think it necessary, but we didn’t know he was coming just then. I liked it. I liked the surprise element and the familiarity of “just dropping by.”

I missed our Greek popstar/Buddhist monk like mad when he went back to Greece as I was so used of having him run in the door, pull my hair and get me to run up the Canyon cursing through closed lips that I had decided to join him up hill in the blazing sunshine. Not that I had a choice. In fact I was used to having him run into our house at any given hour…I once awoke confused by having someone jumping up and down in my bed. The other day he came back and I was thanking my lucky star if so only for a few weeks we get to have someone running into our house and dragging us out the door at unexpected hours.

I still remember once last year, my best friend dragged home our other best friend after class and we sat talking to the small hours. It’s those unexpected get-togethers…the ones where you search the fridge and freezer for something to serve, you pull out the left overs, you sip the last drops of wine…the ones where you end up talking till dawn about the small things in life that make a difference. It’s then that secrets are shared and laughs to be heard echoing down the street…

There’s of course a difference between gate crashing and knocking. You gotta knock for someone to answer…

I love that knock on the door. I love the extra beat my heart makes. I love having a good friend over. I love putting a kettle on the stove as they sit down in the sofa and space out as they get hypnotized by the view.

Sometimes it’s not a knock on the door, it’s a beeping phone, or an email, a Facebook message, a tweet, a blog comment…it’s 21st century madness…but it’s still a knock. A knock on the door to someone’s heart. And if it’s to mine, I will invariably smile!

Come over. Tell me where your heart is hurting, where it needs healing and where it is jumping for joy, where it is loving like never before…share a bit of who you are…what makes you tick…share a bit of the beauty of your soul.

Maybe don’t just pull…knock first…then you have the chance of someone opening their heart, their soul…what could be a better gift???

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To all the gorgeous people in my life…

The only way to allow someone to come home is to set them free. When I was younger I didn’t realize that. I thought that you had to have promises, or guarantees that if someone went for a walk they’d come back. And if I was in a relationship I wanted to know that they’d focus one hundred percent on making it work. I guess I was frightened of what would happen if they didn’t. Today I see it differently. If someone wasn’t one hundred percent focused on making it work I would be the one to leave. I also think promises are valid only up to a point. Life keeps changing.

A friend of mine was dating someone for a while. Every day when they met they would look each other in the eye to see if the other person was still there and seek out who they truly were. I thought that was beautiful.

It’s easy to get stagnant in life, or in relationships. A friend’s friend invented a game filled with questions, just because he wanted to remind himself that whenever he thought he knew his partner, he was wrong. He wanted to always keep searching her mind, body and soul for what he didn’t know. That too, to me, is beautiful.

This year I have met so many different people, old and new, that I have connected with in so many different ways. There are people whom intrigue me, there are people whom I always know when they will contact me, there are people whom I have discovered in ways I never thought I’d discover, there are people whom I miss dearly…there are just so many different connections. One thing I learnt this year is that there is indeed a “type” of men I have been known to fall for. Six pack, outgoing, charismatic, charming, cheeky, life of the party type of guy. Yet, I was talking to a friend the other night and suddenly realized although there have been flings and love interests in the last few years there’s only one guy I actually cared for, the rest I was attracted to. A true connection with someone is very different from pure attraction. And true connections aren’t necessarily flawless stereotypes. Love is an interesting thing.

To all my wonderful friends and family out there – thank you for an interesting journey, you make my life in so many ways!!!

People are like a box of secrets…yummy delights…

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