Tag Archives: loving

To a beautiful soul…

Tomorrow’s blog will be all whips and chains. You know, a kick in the ass before the weekend. I like those Kicks up the ass.. The harder you kick, the more I’ll fight. The bigger the challenge, the greater my enthusiasm. Some people want offers they can’t resist. Personally, I tend to go for challenges I can’t resist.

I’ve thought about that a lot lately. I like to be pushed out of my comfort zone. I thrive on challenges. I love discipline. The harder you hit me, the higher I rise.

I’m never gonna stop loving challenges I don’t think. They’re addictive. Adrenaline fueled adventures into the unknown. Or simply running as fast as I can until I get high on endorphins. Try talking to me after a run and a cup of coffee. I will be delirious with happiness and overcome by enthusiasm.

The thing is, how I treat people is greatly the same as my father did: I give practical tips and enforce discipline. Often, I just wanted him to hug me and say it’ll be OK. Now, I’m the one dishing out “for fuck’s sake (wo)man up and change your life.” I don’t lovingly support people. I tell them to wake the fuck up and sort their shit out.

That’s how I treat myself as well. And in some ways, it’s really effective. Holding a gun to my head and telling myself to move, to do something — anything — to sort out whatever problem at hand, or rise higher in life, works pretty well at times. It’s just, when I need a hug, a helping hand, a caress, a pat on the back…I don’t know what to do. I think I’ve gotten better at it. Better at self-care. Better at asking for help. Better at allowing people to hold me, without me simultaneously telling them what my failures are. What I can get better at.

It’s just…you’re a beautiful soul you know. You sparkle and glitter. You’ve got kindness and love twinkling away in your heart. Maybe you’ve fallen on the ground a couple of times. Maybe you’re still lying on the ground. Maybe you can’t get up…maybe you’re crawling. But you’re still beautiful. You have gold speckles covering your body. Divinity floating about you in a cloud. Maybe you can’t access that right now. Maybe your mind is broken. Maybe your body too. But your heart and soul are intact. They always will be. You just need to find your way back to them if your life currently isn’t true to them. If your life is not a reflection of who you truly are deep inside. Allow yourself to recognize that you are love. You are divine. You’re no less, no more, than the person next to you. Life shaped you one way or another. That’s all. Inside of you are still all the wonders of the world and some. You’re beautiful. And maybe I’m not great at telling you that, because, well, I’m more prone to kick your ass, but I still see you, you know. I see the miracle that is you. And that’s why I’m here. Not because you’re broken, but because you’re whole. Because you are a heart and a soul. All the rest is just the topping.

Yin and yang. We need discipline. We need structures that hold us accountable to our highest self. But we also need love. We need someone who recognizes the divine in us. The purity that can be found within our soul. The love that exists there, even if it’s buried under a hundred layers of sorrow or hatred. Underneath all that is a diamond waiting to shine. You are that diamond. So am I. We are all beautiful.

Beyond our failures and achievements is a person — a heart and a soul — waiting to be seen. Someone who just is. I usually find that person by the ocean. A girl with her feet in the sand, or sea. Just a woman standing there. Not a failure. Not an achievement. No, just a heart and a soul, with her toes in the ocean. And that, that is the woman I want to be seen for. And that, that heart and soul, is who I see in you.

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Another love story to tantalize your taste buds…

Avignon, France

As you may know I wrote a love story last year. In my mind the story continued and there were chapters I wanted to add, stories I wanted to write. Yet, the time never seemed right. I never managed to just…write. Until today. Today the “pen” once again got hold of the “paper” and the words flowed. You see, I never feel like I write until I edit. Sometimes it can be challenging, but if I feel like I have to force the words out, the words are not the right ones. I’m not in the right mindset to write. Today the words came. So here’s the story…a part of the story…enjoy! (P.S. If you didn’t read the first part, this won’t make much sense…go here to read it…)

The Journey

Chapter Two

The night sky melted away to leave room for dawn – the first streaks of husky peach appeared, then golden lines glowing in the still dusky gray morning. It was as if a little kid was licking a pot of chocolate, she thought, showing more and more of the shining red pot underneath the chocolate, but then she was bound to think about food… One streak at a time the colors underneath revealed themselves in a beautiful symphony. She thought about the jester. It was his colors, the dawn…this inexplicable symphony of life. So easy, yet so hard to comprehend. She sighed.

She was standing in her kitchen in the shop, getting it ready for the day ahead. The kitchen, in fact, was partly open so that customers could see what she was doing. Only the wood fired oven and the sink with a wall behind it were blocking the view in the far corner. It was a place she felt so comfortable in. It was who she was. She had designed every inch of it, from the stone oven to the cupboards. It looked as homemade as, well, as it was. Even the wood had been cut directly from tree trunks, leaving the shelves that were surrounding her with uneven edges – smoothly they followed the shape that the tree once had. The shelves still had the warm scent of wood, which blended nicely with the smell of the fire and the spices.

It was a magical kitchen filled with light and warmth, not to mention hundreds of herbs and spices that added color and a certain sense of mysticism…although of course there was nothing mystical about them. They were nature’s extended hand. It always surprised her that not more people cared to learn about them. Almost every plant, if used correctly, could bring something amazing to the human body and mind. To her getting to know each plant and its properties was always a unique experience. She felt thankful that this planet was providing her with everything she would ever need and for each herb she picked she said her thanks. After all she picked a life out of the ground to eat it. A life, which had taken time to grow, a life so beautifully provided for her.

Behind her was also a drapery, covering the door frame leading to the stairs that would take you up to her apartment above. The drapery was made of different fabrics and shone in some of the most amazing colors. Her mother always used to say she dressed and decorated like a gypsy.

If she climbed those stairs now they would lead her to the jester. He was probably getting dressed, getting ready for the day ahead. He too enjoyed the first moments of the day. He had told her that when everyone else was asleep he had peace to think about himself and his own life. He could also  focus better and therefore practice a really advanced magical trick, or juggling. It was the very same reason she got up before dawn. She smiled. It did indeed seem like they spoke the same language. As if they operated according to the same manual, yet with widely different lives.

He was sleeping in her house and because of it there was a different smell in the house, a different energy radiating everywhere, yet she felt the last couple of days as if she had arrived home. She laughed. She had been at home for a lifetime. She had always known in her heart what she wanted to do; what her gifts were. When others had asked what she would do if she could do anything her answer had, for as long as she could remember, been the same: I’m already doing it. In her heart she knew she was aligned with who she was. And this little town was her home. Of course she had traveled to see, to learn and to find answers, but always to return…home. The feeling of home she felt inside now though was different.

Her mind floated away as she took out her cakes from the cold cupboard where they had rested over night, put them in the oven and started grinding spices to sprinkle on top. Different blends for different people. Soft vanilla and cinnamon for those in need of warmth. Sweet chili and mandarin for those in need of spice. Soothing cardamom and lavender for those in need of calm. The combinations were endless.

There were other men she had shared good times with, hard times with and glorious moments with. Yet, even though she had met hundreds and hundreds of people passing through her little bakery and felt unique connections with so many of them, sympathy for others and a heartfelt love for some, she had never before felt at home with them. They were exciting. They all had gifts to share, stories she would could learn from. Things that made her laugh for hours, or cry, or just feel happy, or excited…yet none of them had understood her. Bits of her, but not all of her. And for the first time in her life she felt that her whole heart was open to someone. As if…as if she could truly be together with someone, not just next to someone. As if they could share a moment to which they were both present and both understood. As if she wasn’t alone.

It was liberating being able to play with someone who understands the game you are playing. Not just the rules, but the intentions behind it and the emotions going through you whilst playing it. It was a special feeling.

She put down a jar of herbs on the work bench and picked out a bunch of dried leaves. This specific herb reminded her of a specific man…

Once upon a blue moon there had been a man she had fallen madly in love with. In fact, whereas the jester had entered her life at dawn, this man had entered her life during a full moon, around midnight. Like the jester he was a traveler, a sailor. So different from her… She was small and slender, he was tall and rough. His weather worn face told tales one could not easily forget. His blue eyes, always squinting in the sunlight, glittered like waves in the ocean.,,,dark and mesmerizing. His hands were calloused, his skin tanned and scarred in places. His whole being exuded strength and power, but also warmth. He had been a man of nature; of seeing things for what they were in the natural world. He could navigate by the stars and survive storms out at sea. This, to her, was very attractive. Yet, he had only seen the obvious. He could only see that which was material, real. For her the world consisted both of the physical matter you could see and feel and the matter which you could only sense. She had always known what others were thinking. He could not phantom this. Although she knew that her mind could travel too much and be too unstable, his robustness, if refreshing and lovely as a counteractive force, crushed her at times. They were, in a sense, mysteries to one another. They understood each other on one level, but they did not see things in the same light.

It had been a nice experience. He had grounded her. Moved her with his somewhat brutal force. It had been plus meeting minus and the whole affair had been explosive. As most explosions it had also been memorable. Something which moves you that greatly is often hard to forget.

The jester was not like the sailor, even though they had traits in common. The jester, although he was different from her in so many ways, in the core center of his heart, seemed the same. As if they had been made of the same piece of clay. Of course everyone is…if you think about it. Yet, with the sailor it has been as if he was made of the clay from the north pole and she of the clay from the south pole. An instant attraction. Like fire meeting dynamite – something happens. Something significant at that. However, explosions are…explosive. With the jester on the other hand it was as if they both had a plus and a minus within them, but they were made from clay from the same region of the world. They fit. They blended together. There were still sparks, but no fire.

She loved him, in a way, because she could feel him within her heart. She didn’t know him yet. She didn’t know the things that would move her, drive her insane with lust or make her want to close the door and be left to her own devices…if so only for a moment. It was a bizarre feeling, but she knew she could share life with him. That’s why she felt at home. And his scent…that of musky spices with some exotic twang has a deliriously calming effect on her spirits. She didn’t know how it could make her delirious and calm at the same time, but it did.

The sky was now a fiery orange. The day was breaking and the birds had started chirping away. Soon there would be footsteps on the pavement and old Mme. Legrand would pop by for her morning tea. Sweet, but not too sweet. Mme. Legrand didn’t know it, but she would need something light to take away the heaviness that often hung within her. Young Monsieur Marseille would then casually walk in and demand his espresso and croissant. What he didn’t know was that behind his slick exterior he needed comfort and joy to feel more confident in his ways. Her flower scented water would do just the thing. She smiled to herself – she had a whole town to look after.

The jester would probably soon be practicing his tricks in the alleyways and attract random children and curios passersby as his audience. His green blue eyes would be glittering with joy as he would bring his audience smiles, laughter and some poignant truths. His light brown hair would be tousled as he’d run his hand through it too many times. Yes, she did love that man in some way…maybe because of what he brought to others and his understanding of them. He was an entertainer, an entertainer of the heart.

…To Be Cont…

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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

Image via Wikipedia

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…

Wanna join me for more dizzy blonde journeys? Click here

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P.S. I really do love you…

Ever lost someone you loved? I have. Most of us have. And with them a part of the world went missing. You can’t have it back. You really can’t. It’s scary as all hell and it hurts like hell.

When I lost my mom I was six years old. I can’t remember much of what she was like. I still remember the pain of losing her though. If I think about it I get tears in my eyes. I panic. I get the impression of leaning against a wall that disappears suddenly and you are left falling onto the ground with a big bang.

When I lost my granddad (mom’s dad) I was 24. Grandpa was like my surrogate dad. All my grandparents have been like my parents since mom died. I found out a month before he died that he was going to die. We were on the Canary Island for Christmas – I had come home from London to be with the family and as we came back to the airport there was this awful voice calling us on the speakers saying we should contact the office. My gran had called to say granddad was in the operation room. My sister cried hysterically all night. I think her world fell apart then. She was only a year old when mom died and she loved grandpa above and beyond.

We found out he was dying the next day and I sat down to write him a letter, saying all I ever wanted to say about how much he meant to me. I had to go back to London, but flew back to see him a week or so before he died. It’s the only time I’ve seen grandpa in a bad mood. He was my pillar of strength. He was like a ray of sunshine – always happy. He got angry with me fair and square (and without menace) when he thought I was rude, or wasn’t on time (that’s nine times out of ten), or broke some rule or other, but he was never sulky, or down. He’d do anything for the family. I see their old Volvo coming driving to the rescue whenever something happened. I used to live with them quite a lot during high school and coming home to him and gran was the most secure thing in the world. They were simple, straight forward and easy to be around. When he finally died I cried a little, but I was ready for it. I’d said what I wanted to say and I felt like I was in a good place. I was still studying, I was enjoying my life and I had a boyfriend to help me through it all.

Last year my gran on dad’s side became senile and even though she’s still alive, to reach her properly is impossible. I thought I’d handle it well and maybe I did, as I guess I was the one who still managed to talk to her (showing her pictures in old books I’d given her, magazines, etc….basically just trying to give her a chance of participating in the moment, not in a fantasy), but I still feel like my heart is breaking. I heard her voice on the phone for my birthday and I burst out crying like a baby. Maybe because I never had that final chat with her. Maybe because I wasn’t at a stabile point in my life. Maybe because I don’t have a boyfriend to lean on. Maybe because I can’t visit her all the time. I don’t know, but losing her has been rough. I just think she should be there when anything happens in my life. Like, how can I get married without gran? And whenever I need support, there’s no one to call that will give me the same loving understanding.

Having these people in my life has been one of the best things ever. People make up my life. They make me smile. They hug me. They make me laugh. They share the good times and the bad times with me. They are the security net insurance can’t buy. Without people my life would be dead. When one person leaves that hurts. The great thing is that there are so many people out there just waiting to be discovered by you – people who you will share your life with. People who will be a joyous part of your life. Don’t be scared to love, because there will always be love. Always. It changes shape like everything else, but it never leaves you.

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Chocolate mousse…

I was just cutting an onion. (I know, it’s a great start of a story…). I like onions. I love vegetables and fruit in general…the smells, textures, colors, tastes…they ground me. It’s like a connection to the Earth. (Yup, I’m a hippie, I’m sure you knew that under the Louis Vuitton and Prada she was right there in clogs, or Wellies…). Food also awakens me. Brings me back into the moment. How can they not? They are so filled with things for the senses to explore. (And if you don’t mind, me, I need to go check on my…onions…no seriously, the pasta sauce will get ruined otherwise.) So, where was I? The spaghetti is getting there… Ah, yes, food. Food. It’s like dancing – it’s impossible to sleep whilst dancing. It will sweep you off your feet. You will get involved with it. You have to move. With food it’s like a shock of the senses, but not a shock in the real  sense, unless you have an affair with the chili. It’s just so prominent – you cannot not smell it, taste it, see it, feel it…it will draw you in….when you grind the spices, work them into the dough and then watch as the ingredients turn into something delicious, you cannot not be there, savoring the moment…

Now, I realize not everyone get as happy as I do sprinkling cardamom right, left and center, or swirling around on a dance floor, but whatever it is that awakens you…indulge in it. Allow it to fill you up, sweep you away, take you on a journey. Find that something that captures your entire being, brings you right into the moment; the experience. Set limitations, aside and allow yourself the freedom of being whom you truly are. Now if you’d allow me, I’d suggest a chocolate mousse with a man on top because after all that whipping and all that chocolate you will be so ready to……because seriously, who can resist? Not I…


“Never tell me the sky’s the limit when there are footprints on the moon.”

~ Unknown

That’s just the way I make chocolate mousse – no limits in sight, only following my senses…the one above is a raw one!

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Love and my gran’s clogs…

Chanel

Image via Wikipedia

Yeah, I know…the headline doesn’t start with “Let’s do the doggie, do, do, dah-dam tralalala…” or some other sexy thing. Give it a go though. You don’t always have to enter the backdoor to have a good time, or what do you think?

I went to see my gran a few weeks ago, she is in a ward for senile people. I was trying to read a book to her, a book that I once bought her, called “Home, Sweet Home.” In it there are quotes about home and pictures of cute animals to accompany them. It’s hard to have any kind of conversation with her, as her attention span is very, very short. The quotes were usually short enough to get her to listen though. Some she still struggled to understand, but as I said “Home is a place where you can say anything, as no one will listen anyway,” she shone up, laughed and said “That’s kinda true.” To see a reaction was beautiful – to find that a tiny bit of her is still there.

My gran said a few other things – usually relating to things that have nothing to do with her current life, constantly asking about my granddad, talking about the household chores she has done, or is yet to do, long dead relatives, etc. From time to time though, she would get something we said and reply as she would have when she was well. One thing she said was “We get along kinda well, you and I.” That, too, was such a “her” thing to say back in the day – stating the obvious with a dash of irony and a smile. One of her favorite things to tell me and my sister were: “You are like my daughters. Do you know how I know it? I can yell at you.” She had a great sense of humor, amongst other things.

My gran keep teaching me about love and life, even when she is in a state of oblivion. To cope with the fact that in front of you sits one of the people that mean the most to you, but she’s no longer fully there…is….well, it’s a journey from complete despair to understanding/acceptance. It’s also an interesting journey into questioning what a human being truly is? I loved my gran for her personality. Who I am today, is probably partly a mirror of whom my grandma once were, which I have never truly thought of that much before. I mean, sure I knew she inspired me and taught me things, but I never quite got how much like her I turned out to become – from my greatest traits to my insecurities. (Nor did I realize how much I became like my adopted TV mom…Dr Michaela Quinn, until I re-watched the series last summer. I was laughing and cringing at her, as she did well…what I would have done in her position.) Yet, whom my grandma is today is…a broken record player and one that can’t add any new tracks at all. It has made me question how much of us are a manifestation of our soul, our true center and how much is icing on the cake. I mentioned it the other day, but it seems to me most of us are record players, playing the tunes we have been taught, and very few of our own original tunes come out. It’s one thing to believe we have a soul when we are alive and well, but when someone’s whole personality falls apart, you wonder what happened to the soul? Is it trapped inside us, not being able to live fully?

I have talked before about how my gran’s disease taught me that what she always gave me and that I forgot to give myself, was unconditional love. Apart from baking pancakes and gingerbread cookies, doing my hair up and conjugating French verbs, cracking witty jokes and wearing mini-skirts, what she really taught me was just to love. She may have made me into a household Goddess with a taste for business and adventure, but above and beyond all she taught me what it means to have someone who always listen and supports you through it all. I believe we need that. When we have good love around us, when we are taught to love and respect ourselves, we won’t go running after all the other crazy things in this life that really don’t matter much.

As I sit here in NYC, I wonder partly if I’m crazy? I have set out on this journey to conquer the world with my businesses and movies, but what matters most to me is people. Of course, my everything is always about people, for people, but I keep traveling the world, being away from people. I don’t have a kitchen that is mine forever. A kitchen that is filled with spices, teas, crooked china, the smell of gingerbread and most importantly: people. As with everything else though: one without the other wouldn’t make me happy. I love America. I love France. I love business. I love movies. I love traveling. I love home life. I am what I am. A funny mix. What matters most to me now is to be all that I am in a way that honors it. That honors me.

The day after visiting my gran I was visiting my granddad. I put on my gran’s clogs and walked to the beach. For the first time I wasn’t sad. I knew I was OK. I knew she had taught me all I needed to know. I was wearing her clogs. It is time to wear them not just when I visit, but all the time. Wear the trust and love she felt for me.

Let’s conquer the world. In a pair of clogs and with gingerbread cookies. In a Chanel suit and with pancakes. In me and with love.

My gran always gathered newspaper clippings of Jöback for me…he has the most beautiful voice! God knows how many times I listened to his songs dreaming about making musicals….dreaming about living life. Dreaming of America…



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I don’t wanna talk…

…about the things we’ve been through. Yeah, yeah, I’m quoting Abba…I know, I know…blonde Swede by the wheel. So let’s talk about sex baby…or not. Let’s have sex. No, let’s talk about it. No, let’s have it. No let’s talk about it…no…yes…no…fuck you. What? Yes, fuck me. No. Yes………

I’m going to do something very forbidden right now – I’m going to generalize (why do I suddenly see a bunch of angry people marching against me shouting tasteless blonde jokes???…).

Women are accusing men of being sex driven and men are accusing women for being baby (and, therefore, relationship) driven. Now if you are a man, imagine that women see babies the way you see sex…and can’t help it. Women, imagine seeing sex the way you see babies (and relationships) on the worst days. Of course, women only have baby drive for certain days per month/periods of their lives, but it leads to some women hunting guys like…well, like men hunt women. They are both “drives” that we can learn to control, because let’s face it – babies aren’t always a good idea and sometimes sex isn’t either. By the end of the day both drives lead to the same end result – a life. Only we don’t always realize this when we are hormone high and just following instinct (and have a condom at hand)…on the other hand, it’s pretty damn good sex with two people who are letting their desires lose…

Women are accusing men of being cold and only care for sex and men are accusing women of being needy. Men were made to spread their sperm, women were made to raise babies and to do so, having a man around to hunt for some food is useful as babies take up time. Of course, it’s a very practical thing to have a rational man around and a woman to bring care. It’s harmony, but when it goes tits up it’s…not so harmonious… (“Why were you flirting with the woman at the petrol station?” “Why do you need to sit at home nesting and being all lovey-dovey?”)

Another amusing aspect of this is that men always freak out about women bonding (no not bondage…but they wish…) with them too early, they are too emotional, etc. Women are built like that – for the sake of the baby, we need to love you men. Happens every time. Even with the jerk we dated before you and the Prince we will date after you, should you dump us or we have enough of you. That’s why women need to be careful with whom they shag, because hormones go flying. We are built to get addicted to men (ouch, I hate this shit…yep…I’M INDEPENDENT FOR FUCK’S SAKE…yeah, yeah..). Women on the other hand find men cold at first, because they were built to being addicted to sex. The weird thing is that apparently, once a guy falls for a gal, it can take him three to five years to get over her. YEARS! Women have to act faster as they have a biological clock. We only waste a month or two in mourning. Doesn’t mean we don’t remember and (don’t…because we don’t…lol) compare everyone to that one guy that won our heart for some weirdo (or not so weirdo) reason…and that we wouldn’t shag him did we have a chance…but we don’t get stuck on one guy to the point of not allowing others in. We move on. We have to.

Women for some reason need to explain everything and have everything explained to them. Men only need to decide (in a quiet place, alone, strong and independent) and then they act. Women feel disrespected as they aren’t explained why the actions happened. Men get irritated as women are so complicated, needy and irritatingly close, trying to get them to actually SPEAK to them. Biologically I can’t figure this one out, but when action meets emotion, when hot meets cold…wahowahwooom…explosion…could be good….).

Another thing is, as a woman, I believe we contemplate having sex with everything that moves just as much as a man…but if we are talking biology – maybe a woman thinks beforehand as she will have to raise the kid and needs a dependable father. A man can always leave, but before contraception and abortion existed, a woman was stuck with the baby. Therefore we think relationship before we think sex. We have learnt to control ourselves. Ahem. Sometimes.

A woman needs to be convinced to get involved in the first place. A man needs to be convinced to stay. A woman needs to feel safe. A man needs to know he got The Queen Of The World, or else, why would he not keep spreading his sperm?

I also think this is why babies change relationships. If she realizes she was in it due to her baby drive (which has now been satisfied) and he realizes he agreed without thinking she’s The Queen Of The World, he just got a bit…excited…there’s trouble ahead. On the other hand, if she picked Mr Fabulous and got a baby with Him…and he picked The Queen Of The World…a baby will bring a lot of pleasure to them both and bond them further.

I may be absolutely wrong about all the above, but yin and yang people…when we wear each others’ shoes, when we learn to understand…how much of our biology is actually about each other – that we were created for each other….maybe then relationships will start to get a bit more…sexy… I mean, we are all looking for each other, we just don’t seem to get it….and playing with fire is dangerous unless you know how to make it work….but don’t we all love fire? And men on motorbikes…or what was it again???

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Karma is one sexy beast…

The problem with knowledge is that you realize how damn stupid you were before you had it. There is an old saying that youth is lost on youth, I assume because when you are young you have all the benefits of youth, but only the knowledge of youth. When you get older you get wiser, but you lose the benefits of youth. Then again, I believe that maybe youth needs its stupidity so as to passionately go after the impossible (read: that which will take them through a million battles before they reach their goal), as those that succeed make it ever so little more possible for the rest. (It’s fascinating how new world records are set all the time – somehow every year we seem to get a little bit faster.)

Do you believe in karma? I’d like to believe in it, as I’d like to believe that we have some sort of way of controlling our own fate. I’d like to believe we reap the seeds we sow. I don’t, however, believe that just because you may have committed a crime in this or a past life time you should feel ashamed of yourself. In general I think being ashamed of oneself should only be a trigger to sort something out, not an excuse to sit and wither away in one’s own misery.

I started thinking about karma the other day as I came to think about a guy I was madly in love with way before I understood anything about love. I was just in love, full stop. Looking back it’s a rather funny story about ego, but at the time it was a very painful story. We never dated, but somehow I was madly in love with him and I gave him my heart to break in a million pieces. I was so in love with him that for me he became the symbol of love – for ten years I’d dream of him when I wanted love. Because the emotions I had for this guy were so strong I wondered if I had been with him in a past life and if I had hurt him greatly?

If you look back on my present life you can easily say that love has been the greatest confusion and source of pain. It’s only in the last year that I have gotten my head round the whole thing and I’m still learning. Through all this learning I have come to appreciate love. I also decided the other day, as I came to think of this guy, that I was going to take karma seriously. Whether it exists or not, I have something to learn from everything that goes wrong in my life.

If I was truly a heart breaker in a past life, I clearly did not understand what I was doing to people. In this life I have learnt what it feels like to be on the other side of the equation. If I caused people to feel like I have felt in this lifetime from family issues, men and bullies, I was a nutcase and I am truly sorry. I can only be sorry because I now understand the pain you can cause others by playing with them in ways they don’t necessarily understand, so they fall foul for the game due to their lack of knowledge. I also think that the people who have caused me pain, often, were not aware of it, or pretty much unable to stop themselves from doing it because of how life shaped them. If I think of the things I have done by mistake to hurt others, or because I didn’t know better, or couldn’t control my own behavior, it makes it easier to forgive them. Basically, by looking at the situation from their point of view I can finally forgive them.

Also, if I ask for forgiveness, I learn what it feels like to be on the other side of where I am at right now. It allows the mind to travel. I am not what happened to me and I have to learn to detach myself from it. And by genuinely apologizing you learn some humility – I’m sure I’ve broken a few hearts in this lifetime too and I know for sure that my ego enjoys when I know I can have a guy, even though I don’t want him. However, I don’t encourage guys I don’t want. I may be friends with them, but that’s that. It’s harder with guys that you feel that you have some sort of connection, but you know you don’t want to be with. Attraction is a complex thing.

If I look back on my heart-breaks in this life (which may be the only one I’ve ever had, or will have, I don’t know) I have learnt a lot from that. I guess there are two ways of learning about love: getting it right from the start and experiencing what it should be like so you know what you want, or failing in all ways until you figure out what it isn’t and therefore what it should be. Some of my main learnings are that for certain a guy can be “your type” but that’s not love. For certain there are a few people in this life that have achieved the level that you would like to achieve and that you admire, but that’s not love. For certain there are people in this life that mirror you in more ways than one, but that’s not love. For certain a guy can tell you the most amazing things till your ego feels like it’s flying to the moon and back, but that’s not love. Love, to me, is an understanding, a connection if you so like, a dose of attraction and a willingness to create life together. I have discussed that under the page titled Love here, so I won’t go into it again, but it’s very different from when I was a teenager and hopelessly in love with a person who was no good for me at all, so if I admired him and we mirrored each other in some ways.

Another of my beliefs is that if you ask for something and you are prepared to do what it takes, including apologizing for your karma, you will get it. However, most people probably don’t try to learn from every event life throws at them. Most people don’t want to take hit after hit so as to reach a certain destination. Most people blame others for their failure, or are jealous of others for their success. If someone was to ask me if I was willing to climb one of the hardest climbs there are and fall a few times along the way, so as to reach one of the greatest mountain tops there are, I would have said yes. I know myself well enough to know that. I had to slip and fall on the head a few times for me to realize that life isn’t about success – that I can be happy in the here and now. I’ve had to fall maybe even harder to let go of some of my ego. And I’ve definitively fallen a few times when it comes to love. Why did I have to fall so many times? Because I simply didn’t get it the first time! That’s not necessarily my fault – I didn’t know better. Am I happy I got to where I am now though? Yes. Yes, I am.

It’s hard to forgive those that inflicted pain on you. It’s hard to forgive them unless you become them. If you imagine what they went through to become whom they are. If you see life through their eyes. And if you imagine, just for a minute or two, that you are them, trapped in that very set of circumstances and thoughts and you see you doing what they did, only now it’s to them…maybe then you can forgive yourself and by doing so, forgiving them. And maybe, just maybe, do you learn the lesson that life was trying to tell you so desperately with signs as big as elephants, that you, of course, did not see. From what I’ve learnt, I can only thank the people who ruined me for being so kind to do so.

I have to say, in my life, karma, if it exists, has been a big sexy beast…I mean all those men were just so friggin yummy!!!

Am I a fool, being played by a fool, or simply acting foolishly???…

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You’re ugly, but I’d shag you anyway…

OK, so this is not a PC (politically correct) headline, but life is not PC. Have you ever met anyone who complains they are shy? Ugly? Feel inferior? Don’t like their body? Well, welcome to the world – that probably goes for 99.9% of the population. That is to say – anyone who is not a guru.

Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her: but once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game. – Voltaire

Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself. – George Bernard Shaw

Excuses. Blame. I am. I can’t. Let me ask you, are you something? Or do you have tendencies? Now, most people think that they are something. I can’t predict myself. Therefore, I can’t be something. I have certain tendencies. I also have choice. Most people walk around all day long saying that they “are” their past. Please. I was my past. Today, I am me. Is that “me” a sum total of all the experiences I have had so far, so that when something new happens my reaction will be as a result of all these experiences? Probably. I have a theory though and it’s hardly unique: I believe, or at least I hope, that anyone who is told that s/he has a choice to be whom they choose to be and believes that to be true, will make a decision that they are going to educate themselves to become the person they want to be. In other words: they won’t think that they are the events that happened to them, but rather, they will search for the knowledge they need to be able to make new choices – form new behaviors. It is true that we can only make decisions from that which we know, that’s why education, if experience is lacking, is essential. If you wanna get somewhere: ask the people who got there. No, I’m not saying you can copy them exactly – you are unique, but you can only see as far as you look. Most people don’t look very far.

Reflect upon your present blessings, of which every man has many—not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some. – Charles Dickens

What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Why am I so passionate about this subject? Because I see people all the time that have a ton of excuses as to why they are not living the life of their dreams. Also, at the age of 13 I hardly spoke unless spoken too; I was called geek, ugly and, obviously, shy. I know what it is like to feel like a pieces of worthless shit. Excuse my language, but that’s how I felt as a kid. I made a decision though – I saw people who had what I wanted to have and behaved like I wanted to behave and I set out to become like that. Today people think I am lying when I speak about my past. I’m not. That kid really was me and it really is possible to change. Was it easy? No, because I believed I was my experiences. It took some time to figure out I was just a human – I wasn’t shy, I wasn’t ugly and I wasn’t a geek. I was just a person. Did it take some time to figure out how not to be shy, ugly and geeky? Yes. I wasn’t a master socializer and oozing self-confidence when I first set out, let’s put it that way, but through trial and error I learnt to be a fairly outgoing, confident person. Sure I still slip back into old patterns sometimes, but I realize that’s not me. I am whom I choose to be, minus a few genes.

It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare, it is because we do not dare that they are difficult. – Seneca

It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a young person, “Always do what you are afraid to do. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Do you think people become popular because of their genes, or because they have a certain kind of behavior? Do you think people succeed because they are intelligent beyond belief, or because they have a certain kind of behavior? If it is because of behavior, would it maybe be wise to check what they do and start applying that? I have spent a lot of time amongst sales people and life coaches and read a ton about mentalism and hypnosis – believe me when I say that there are ways to deal with people and there are ways not to deal with people. It has nothing to do with having to change who you are, it’s just how you deal with things.

If your ship doesn’t come in, swim out to it. – Jonathan Winters

If I could give you one gift, I would give you the ability to see yourself as I see you, so you could see how truly special you are. – Author Unknown

Did you ever meet someone who is excusing themselves all the time for their existence? They show up at your b-day party with a gift: “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t know whether to bring a gift or not, but I did get you one. I’m sorry if it’s not what you really want, or if it’s too stupid and I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have brought you a gift in the first place.” Then someone else walks in and says “Hello gorgeous, I brought you a gift. I am the worst gift buyer in the world, but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?!! Happy b-day hun.” Of course there is a person behind each of these behaviors. Of course they mean equally well. I’m just wondering, who do you think has the most luck in love of the two? The most luck with their career? It can also be said, that both of them will probably become luckier and better at most everything if there is someone next to them who believes in them and feeds them enough love to give them wings, so if that person is themselves. No, it’s not easy to find that energy to love yourself sometimes, but it is the key to flying without wings.

I am so glad that you are here… It helps me realize how beautiful my world is. – Goethe

Perseverance is a great element of success. If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

My dad always taught me that you can eat a brick if you really want to. He also used to say that second place is no place. He made me highly motivated, which I am sure he regrets by now – he didn’t realize exactly what I’d go after in life when he made these statements. Sufficient to say though, I was taught to fight. Had I not been I’d still be a shy, inferior little thing that believed she was worthless. I’m not worthless – no one is. You just have to stand up for yourself. And don’t tell me you are ugly. So is Jaquin Phoenix, in my opinion, and I swear he is the hottest thing since chili in Walk The Line. It’s character, not looks that shape a face and makes you wanna shag someone 90% of the time. Fitness and thinking you are a great shag helps too and all that takes is exercise.

Perseverance is failing nineteen times and succeeding the twentieth. – Julie Andrews (if it would only be that ratio…I believe I have failed a lot more often than that!!)

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” – Rumi

Also, a lot of women apparently think that because they have small boobs they can’t get men. In that case I would NEVER get a guy and I have absolutely no lack of men wanting to shag me. I don’t think Kate Hudson does either.

If you wish to travel far and fast, travel light. Take off all your envies, jealousies, unforgiveness, selfishness, and fears. – Glenn Clark

Aerodynamically the bumblebee shouldn’t be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn’t know that so it goes on flying anyway. – Mary Kay Ash

I believe it’s only when you see yourself as inferior to someone else that you make excuses for whom you are. No one is better than you. They may have practiced their skills for longer, or learnt earlier where they wanted to go, but they are NOT better than you.

We are all inventors, each sailing out on a voyage of discovery, guided each by a private chart, of which there is no duplicate. The world is all gates, all opportunities. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Do you love me because I’m beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me? – Oscar Hammerstein

YOU deserve LOVE. Especially your own love. And when that happens, you will stop being an excuse and start being the person whom you truly are. At least, that was the case for me. Of course most of our lives would be easier if we were surrounded by people who loved us and infused us with strength (for one it we would stop us from seeking love from inappropriate places, such as douche bags, diva queens and emotional fuckwits) – so here’s to you: warm big loooong hugs, hot cups of tea, tons of laughter and lovely smiles.

RT @guy_finley D truth is that real success, ultimately the only success, is determined by how much we are in actual possession of ourselves

More from this guy here: www.attitudeisaltitude.com

You don’t get to choose how you’re going to die, or when. You can only decide how you’re going to live now. – Joan Baez

Love makes the world a hell of a lot brighter =)

That would be me!!! =)

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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.


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