Tag Archives: musings

Putting your sexy glasses on…and so reality changes…

N.B. this post does contain rambling. A nice word for it is “processing.” But really, I’m rambling. Hopefully your sexy mind and gorgeous heart will get something from my ramblings though. 

Do you ever get upset? I do. Maybe worse, sometimes I don’t notice I’m upset, but I act on the feeling anyway.

Today I got upset with one of the kids I help raise. He has what can be deemed as “behavioral issues.” We all use self-defense when we feel powerless. If you’re around abuse and/or have it pointed out to you that you have a flaw as a kid you tend to try to defend yourself. I grew shy when I was growing up; I blocked people from seeing my emotions and hid away. My kid got angry instead. As soon as he feels powerless he gets angry and he feels powerless a lot.

He sometimes feels powerless when learning new things as he has a problem memorizing shapes. As a result he’s been told he’s stupid. When trying to do something he thinks is hard he gets upset as he thinks his difficulties are proof of his stupidity. He also gets angry when he feels he no longer has a choice or is emotionally vulnerable. As soon as I tell him to do something he doesn’t agree with, he feels powerless and gets angry. It’s situations that a “normal” kid wouldn’t get angry about, just like a “normal” kid wouldn’t hide from people like I did as a child. Like my boy, I had wounds as a child and when they were touched, I flinched in pain. A “normal” kid wasn’t wounded, so they didn’t react as they felt no pain.

When I’m at Little Angels these kind of behavioral patterns in children don’t disturb me, because I don’t have a close connection to the children. I see it as my job to bring a kid to their heart. At home…home is my sanctuary. Home is a place I want to call a “happy place.” You think you’re having a perfectly nice time and then suddenly there’s someone who wants to destroy anything in sight for a really small thing that, for a kid who isn’t wounded, wouldn’t lead to a tantrum. It makes me angry, because I want to have a nice time. And using reasoning, why destroy a perfectly happy moment with a huge tantrum? It doesn’t make sense on that level, so it frustrates me.

I also have an emotional connection to my kid – he calls me mommy, I call him my kid. When he gets angry, I get hurt. I also hurt for him because I know the remorse that follows the anger and how much he hates himself afterwards. It’s painful to watch.

My anger and hurt doesn’t help my kid – it only feeds back to what he believes about himself. To break the cycle, I have to respond differently. When he gets ignored when angry, or I’m still happy, he doesn’t get what he wants from me. He doesn’t get to think he’s bad, rejected, stupid, unloved, etc. He likes himself better. When he likes himself, he doesn’t get angry as easily because his wound is more healed. He can do something difficult without getting upset as he doesn’t see it as proof of stupidity.

My emotional reactions are my own. I’m old enough to see beyond behavior.

Changing your reactions and stop punishing, screaming, etc. have nothing to do with accepting the behavior – my kid know I don’t, just like your friend, husband, or parent will know you don’t. The thing is, we’ve been told since children that one should react emotionally in a certain way. We’ve also conditioned ourselves through our own life experiences, like my kid has.

For me, as I said – I grew shy as a kid. For those around me that was easier to deal with than anger, but it’s simply another symptom of a broken ego. And my broken ego has followed me in life. The whole “mom dying, not a good step-mom and bullies” (all a big “I’ve been rejected”) shaped me. If I show I care I often dress it up in sarcasm, or humor, because I want to defend myself just in case I get rejected. If I raise someone up, I’m ready to show I don’t care, just in case.

Those things aren’t things I do in an aware fashion. It’s like when I’m out walking – instinctively instead of walking up to greet someone, I sometimes hide, because the bullies didn’t say hi if you greeted them, but if you didn’t greet them they yelled after you asking you why you didn’t. Either way you lost, so it was better not to be seen I thought. Really, the best thing would have been to acknowledge their behavior didn’t matter. I was still a lovable person.

For years I’ve worked to change my patterns, but some are so hidden you don’t realize. You think you’re teasing someone, when in fact you’re doing it just instead of complimenting them. “I really love your heart, though you’re a total goof :p” Sounds cute enough, but you see what I just did? I raised someone up and yet made sure they didn’t get any “power” over me in the same sentence. And I don’t think about it. I think I’m playing, only to realize that there’s a protection mechanism woven into my language patterns. I mean, seriously?!

The thing I’ve realized is, when I’m confident in myself, I don’t need to play little games to ensure people don’t have power over me, because they don’t. When I feel good in myself I don’t have to be hard to get, intellectually superior, sarcastic, or whatever the heck else my mind decides to do (half of the time I have no idea I’m doing it). Imagine dating me – there’s a huge “fuck you, I’m fine without you” written on my forehead. It will appeal to guys who love a chase, but the moment I open up to them (once I’ve gotten over feeling like a claustrophobic person stuck in an elevator) they will run for their lives. And so my pattern continues, because I’ve now convinced myself that opening up is the wrong strategy.

If you’re an open person, you attract open people. They don’t freak when you open up, because you were always open. I’ve never been open to men, unless the situation has been such that I knew I wouldn’t get close to the person anyway.

When I say I’m not open, I don’t mean I don’t share my thoughts. I do. I even share my feelings, but I share them without attaching any emotion to them. In drama school we called it “cloning” – you describe an event that emotionally wrecked your life, but you tell it as if it was a walk in the park. You can say “I love you” to someone without any love behind your words too. Or, my favorite: you can crack a joke while you’re saying it, or add a sarcastic comment afterwards. My security back up line.

Now this isn’t just about language, it’s about reactions in general. About a year and a half ago I had a run in with my dad about something. When he said something to me, I got really upset. I mean crying all the way to Cape Town from Copenhagen upset. I didn’t show him that at the airport though. I figured if I said something I’d lose it. Instead I sat down in the plane and started crying, because I had PMS. Normally I don’t cry, but that time I couldn’t stop.

A few days later I called my dad. I called him to say he really could’t say things like that, but I did it sharing from my heart, not getting angry. I didn’t want to call him. I wanted to ignore it. Withdraw more to punish him. Not let him anywhere near my emotions, because he fucking hurt me. That’s my survival tactic, but I realized then, as I do now, that it’s not a tactic that serves me. I love my dad. He has ways that sometimes hurt me, but I am old enough to take responsibility for acknowledging he doesn’t mean to. The man loves me. I need to take responsibility for my reactions just as much as he has to take responsibility for his words and actions toward me. He’s worked hard, I’m trying to do the same.

Justifying anger, hurt, pain, aloofness, sadness, it’s all very well, but it usually doesn’t serve us. Acknowledging our reactions, feeling into them instead of suppressing them, serves us, but then we have to let go and look beyond. My kid isn’t trying to hurt me, just like my dad wasn’t trying to hurt me. And my friend walking down the street isn’t going to treat me like the bullies did, nor is the guy I date going to turn on me if I’m open from the start.

Emotions that are born in our ego, as opposed to our heart, can wreck havoc in our lives. Don’t let them. Put on your glasses and see beyond them.

On that note I’m going out to buy new glasses…

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Out of the shadows and into the light…

What makes you squirm uncomfortably? Often somewhere in our squirming moments we tend to find ourselves.

Personally I have this issue with helplessness and receiving care; usually because I confuse the two.

If people care for me I think they believe I need their care because I have some flaw, something I can’t handle myself, and they pity me and want to help. It’s a most humiliating feeling.

As a kid I thought the only reason most people cared for me was because I’d lost my mom. I was bullied and my step-mom wasn’t particularly nice to me so when people were nice I assumed it was pity, because so many people weren’t nice to me, meaning I must have some fault. Otherwise, why was I constantly rejected?

I even had this idea my mom hadn’t loved me – she refused hugging me the last time I saw her, then she died without leaving behind any letters left saying she loved me. It was not a good 24 hours of my life. And afterwards there was a huge hole inside of me and I didn’t know how to fill it. Being cared for by someone hurt when you could lose them, so my six year old self thought.

What’s more, my dad always encouraged me to better myself, so on another plane, I had this idea love was related to achievement. The only times I felt love was real was when people said “I love you, but…” Because then I could keep the idea of being flawed. If they seemed to just randomly love me, without pitying me (i.e. they actually seemed to care), I thought them stupid, or blind…take your pick.

Together with some early on rejections on the love front (try having your emotions and rejection trumpeted to a whole school when you’re fifteen – I blushed for a week straight), I’m not very good with emotions. I simply don’t want to confess to having them (not even to myself), because I think they cause trouble.

This has manifested in different ways in my life. First I became shy as I figured it was better being rejected for who I was not, than showing my real me. Then I wanted to change that and ended up always trying to prove my own strength. My can-do attitude. My willingness to perfect myself. My fiercely independent spirit. I feel safe when I’m independent. I feel in charge.

As my principal in drama school would have said, I’ve gone from using one cover (shy) to using another (independent). Being the seeker I am (and being as miserable as I was) I’ve always worked on myself though. I wanted to find happiness and happiness has a lot to do with self-love, loving people and letting them love you back. So I’ve worked on it. And recently what made me realize there’s a way to go is the “being cared for” thing.

When people try to care for me beyond my comfort level three things might happen: I feel suffocated (I can’t accept the care), I feel embarrassed (clearly they think I need help), or I think they’re being ridiculous (i.e. still thinking people blind to the real me). In some cases, I might also question if they’re doing it just to later embarrass me by telling me it wasn’t real (it really was very traumatic being fifteen, OK). If I actually want to receive the care I feel completely helpless because I don’t know how to. This leads to me wanting to be alone so I can feel powerful again and I can turn mean in the process of pushing people away.

Due to this I have had a tendency to fall for aloof men – men I connect with intellectually and/or physically. I don’t have to open up emotionally, because they’re like clams (or well, you know, a little bit clammy at least). They’re never completely into me, which means I don’t truly have to ever lose them. They won’t look after me, so I won’t feel stupid.

When I dated caring men in the past, it was always men I didn’t really have a connection with, so they never got close and I remained safe and aloof.

In a nutshell: the guys I liked didn’t care and the guys who liked me I didn’t care about.

Now, I could blame this on fate, or I could look at the common denominator in all this: me. I choose to look at me.

This year I’ve decided to turn everything in my life on its head, including my emotional life. I will do the things I fear the most. Like opening up socially in the place I call home, instead of waiting to go to places where I feel anonymous and safe. I will professionally go where I’m the most scared to go, because I care the most. I will also only date caring men I care about AND have a connection with. It will probably make me wanna puke, run for my life and feel like a claustrophobic person stuck in an elevator, but I’m determined that the only relationships I will have are soulful ones. In fact, I want everything in my life to be soulful – my work, my home, my kids, my friends…

For so long I’ve wanted to be the person who didn’t care, who didn’t feel, who just went on adventures and ran off with the circus. Well, whilst I do like the adventures and I’d happily join a circus for a while, I’d like to explore caring. Right here, right now. I’d also like to explore being with someone. Someone who would go on adventures with me; near and far. Someone I could create a home with, but also have freedom with. I like being independent, but I don’t like being a fool. And I’ve been a fool for long enough.

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How to annoy a politician in an enlightened manner…

Have you ever wondered why most stories are about killing the enemy instead of converting the enemy? Is “killing the problem” really the best way forward at all times? Or is it just the “easy” way forward? Then again, is it easy? Or does it continue to breed hatred if you kill your enemy? Isn’t winning about creating a place where people get along and act with integrity?

I think it’s a valid point when it comes to the US elections too. How many people have you seen on your Facebook feed arguing about the different candidates? People who I would like to believe support democracy suddenly start de-friending people of the opposing party and not because they go on really crazy rants (then it’s understandable), but because they express their views. On the one hand I can understand it – Facebook is a personal space and if you believe your friends’ values oppose your own, then maybe you shouldn’t be friends. I guess that’s OK. Sort of. But what’s next? Will you stop talking to them at the store too? Will you remove your kids from the classes they’re teaching at school? Will you refuse shopping at their shops?

I understand people are angry – I get angry too. When politicians, even though they have some very valid points, also decide to blame minorities for the problems in their country, want to tear up trade agreements with other countries, building an imaginary “wall,” and rally angry men, you might have a flashback to a certain leader that set off a world war. And that’s scary. That’s scary as hell.

If you truly want to make a change though, do you act as the person/people you are opposing, or do you act differently? Is it a good idea to “ban” the opposing party from your circle of friends? Will that help them see your point of view? Will mocking them help them see your point of view? Or are you acting just as they are when it comes to certain political questions? And are you maybe making them even more steadfast in their beliefs by alienating them? Are you maybe creating the division some politicians thrive on?

On the other hand, if you try to understand them and respect them, wouldn’t that make them feel heard? Understood? And make you a better person? Wouldn’t it also give you a chance to make them see your point of view and actually have them listen to you? And wouldn’t that really annoy people seeking division? (Maybe annoying people isn’t enlightened, but hey, we all slip sometimes… Oups.)

This morning my sister greeted me with the words that I probably wouldn’t want to get out of bed. She was talking about something which sounded like “a tornado.” Only it was Trump she was talking about, not a tornado.

I disagree. Today it is a very good idea to get out of bed and start fighting for what you believe in. Today it is a very good idea to start understanding the real needs of the people around you. Today it is a very good idea to hug your neighbor and get acquainted with “neighbors” in other countries. Today it is a very good idea to create art, stories and movies that show solutions, instead of slamming people over the head. Today it is a very good idea to set up businesses and schools that open the door to possibilities. Today it is a very good idea to show respect for the voice of millions of Americans and come up with a plan for a future with less hatred and better solutions, no matter what end of the political spectrum you belong to. Segregation and division will not create solutions. Compassion and education, on the other hand, most likely will.

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A gathering of artists…

Does it ever strike you, when looking at a painting, what it must have been like painting it? And does it ever strike you how a painting can connect many different lives in a roundabout manner?

I have been reading some books by Ella Carey lately. Can’t say the books are fabulous, but they have elements of Paris and la belle épouque in them and I have a hard time resisting those. At any rate, one of them is about someone finding Marthe de Florian’s (famous courtesan during late 1800s/early 1900s) apartment intact from the 1940’s, but furnished like an apartment from the late 1800s. In other words, it was like finding a remnant of la belle époque well and alive. That part is based on a true story – this apartment was found intact in 2010. In it was a painting by Boldini of Marthe de Florian, which was sold for over 2 million euros.

During my time in drama school I acted various characters from various different centuries. I also directed pieces set in different centuries. On top of it we studied art history and some of the pieces we did were centered around paintings. For example, one acting exercise was to create a character around a person in a portrait – dress up as the person in the portrait, hold their pose and think their thoughts in the moment. We also had to do that as a directing exercise; directing someone else to do it. Another was to direct a so called picture play – making a painting come alive.

For my actor’s portrait I did something by Kahlo first, but then I must have switched to a portrait by Boldini. I can’t remember much, but I remember the way I held the dress and the green fabric. Reading these books the name Boldini struck me as familiar and eventually I figured out this was why. It made me ponder how an artist affects people in so many different ways and also bring people together through their love of the artist’s works.

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When I was nineteen I watched Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge and got so inspired by the film and its bohemian revolution that I promptly swore to do something worthwhile with my gap year and decided that by December 10 or something like it, I was to leave the country, so if I had to go alone. I ended up backpacking in the midst of winter, which also included a visit to Paris over Christmas.

On Christmas Eve, after going to the Swedish church, the train I was on in the metro passed by La Pigalle and as I’d heard it was like London’s SoHo, which I liked, and that it was where the Moulin Rouge was, I got off. And ended up at an Irish pub where someone asked if I was looking for a job. I said yes and consequently set out to find one. That’s how I ended up living in Paris.

In drama school in London I did the aforementioned piece with Boldini, I acted in a picture play surrounding a Degas painting, I acted in Maupassant’s stories and so forth, so I had an excuse to study Paris in the late 1800s/early 1900s. I found this book, Belle Epoque: Paris in the Nineties by Raymond Rudorff and I believe it might have spent more time with me than in the library. I became fascinated by that era. 

Once upon a time a man named Boldini painted a portrait that would one day feature in an acting exercise I did. His paintings have played parts in many other people’s lives, just as many others have probably been affected by the Moulin Rouge, in one way or another. I’m sure though, that when it was built no one knew that one day a filmmaker would revive it in a film, that would set some blue eyed Swede traveling across Europe in search of a bohemian revolution.

I’m also fairly sure that when Trotsky kissed Kahlo he didn’t think that one day some art and history students would sit pondering what he thought when he did it. Or maybe it’s just me that think about that. And how lives are intertwined in the most intriguing ways.

I didn’t quite grasp that I wasn’t the only one obsessed with la belle époque until I saw Midnight in Paris. For every glass of absinthe Lautrec drank there must be some artist depicting his life, or the life of the Moulin Rouge, in another work of art.

I guess we all want to experience the different ages of history, just as we’d like to invite our favorite people throughout history to a dinner, or an intimate conversation. To find out who they really were. A dinner with Da Vinci – fancy that! And maybe one could bring back the Medicis to try have them convince people artists are needed – paid artists.

Maybe it is as Allen tries to say in Midnight in Paris though, maybe we’re all just dreaming when life is right here. And maybe, just maybe, we should try to live it. Besides, le Louvre is still there. We can still get glimpses of what was, strolling around looking at all the paintings. Even Da Vinci’s notebooks are still around. And in a sense we are the result of what was then. We are what people wanted then, because that’s what they created. Maybe they made a few mistakes in their creations, but life has evolved.

I’d like to go back to the salons…from the French Revolution and onward, I’d like to see the rebirth of art in the renaissance and I wouldn’t mind experiencing a bit of the bohemian revolution in the Moulin Rouge, but truth be told, those ideas would be old now. Some of those ideas need to be reborn, perhaps, but in the way of this century. Maybe in the way of my business? After all, there’s definitively a touch of la belle époque and the Moulin Rouge in there…

So you know, whilst others give deep answers to the books and films that changed their lives, I just do the can can…

My rather lose interpretations of Degas. I feel Boldini is going to hit my sketch pad next. I can only draw things I see and his paintings are old enough not to warrant copyright infringement I think… 

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Clock, tik tok…

The clock was like a grand old lady – timeless, yet on time. Tik tok, tik tok. Steady, but frail, knowing it was living in a world so different from what it was born into. Knowing it was time. Little time. Left.

It was a foreigner in its own home. The times had changed. And it had measured it all. Tik tok, tik tok.

At first it had taken pleasure in the changes – in seeing children grow up and find love. In being there as times changed. But then, it had moved beyond its time.

Tik tok, tik tok.

It was time, but it did not want to go. Did not want to leave, because it did not know where it was going.

It had seen so much, explored the colors and textures of the world, and it wanted to do it all again. There had been hard times too. Wars. But it had come through and found the world beautiful once more. Births and laughter instead of deaths and sorrow. Happiness always returned, albeit in different forms. You lost one thing and found another.

It had all been different times though. The times it had belonged to. Now, time was slipping. Turning into a future the clock could not grasp, because it did not belong there. Time was up.

And as sleep would come a new adventure would start. And time, time would keep moving.

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The truth shall set you free…or send you to a hot tub…

To acknowledge everything you feel every instant of the day, without trying to fix it, or getting lost in it, is hard. It’s a matter of awareness without political correctness and without fear of pain. No one wants to acknowledge they think their best friend’s husband is hot, or that they feel a vast pain within their heart after someone’s passed.

No one wants to acknowledge it, but it happens to most of us at some point or another. Pain, guilt, fear…

There are plenty of aversion tactics available – from getting lost in work, or food, to denying the emotions were there to start with.

To see it and set it free is the only thing that works. You face the pain of someone passing. You let it hit you. You accept it. Then you let it go.

You don’t get stuck reveling in the pain as you want to feel just something…anything…that reminds you of the person whom used to be part of your life. You don’t get stuck in pain because you feel guilty to still be alive. You don’t allow yourself to get stuck in pain because it hurts so much you want to die with them. That’s when you actually need to force yourself to change your focus. And slowly, but surely, you will come alive again. You will start appreciating the taste of hot chocolate. You will get a rush of happiness after running to get away from the rain and then soaking in a hot tub to get the cold out of your bones. You will smile at things. Eventually you will laugh. And you’ll start to love life again. You’ll appreciate and love other people again. And that’s OK. You’re allowed to. It’s your gift – your life.

You look at your best friend’s husband and acknowledge that the dude is hot. It won’t change yours, or your best friend’s life. It’s just a fact. A subjective fact, but a fact nonetheless. Why feel guilty about a fact that’s no more strange than chocolate tasting good? That doesn’t mean you’ll go rob a chocolate store.

I’ve said before that my life changed one night in a hot tub. And no, it wasn’t in the way that life usually changes in hot tubs. There was no man in the hot tub. There was just me. And the stars, the moon, the moving silhouettes of palm trees. I was in the Hollywood Hills, telling God I was giving up – I couldn’t figure out life and asking for help, as I felt like a complete loser. In this instance I had an epiphany. I realized my life was my own. And I didn’t have to accomplish anything. I could sit on a rock in the woods singing to myself if I wanted to. It was my gift to unwrap, this life. Mine and mine alone.

I wasn’t a failure, because I didn’t have to accomplish anything. All I had to do was explore life – that was happiness. To have a moment and explore it. To see what would unfold. Of course, I still wanted to do what I love, or work towards that, but I didn’t have to accomplish anything.

That didn’t mean I figured life out. I still didn’t acknowledge all of my emotions. Those I wasn’t always happy to explore. I fought them. Being in love meant embarrassment as they might not like me back. Having to stand up against someone was petrifying because I hated acknowledging they didn’t like me, or my opinion. Seeing how much pain there can be in life – pain caused by human beings themselves – and accepting that wasn’t even on my radar yet. Or I guess it was on the radar going to Africa, I just didn’t know what it meant to see Africa.

I’ve fought a lot of my emotions over the years. After mom died I fought the pain. I was petrified of the pain. On the flip side of the coin, I also fought the guilt of being alive and feeling happiness, whilst she was dead. For various outside reasons I also ended up withdrawing and thinking people didn’t like me, so I ended up feeling ashamed of myself 24/7. It’s taken me about 30 years to come out of that “ashamedness.”

The worst two triggers to feeling ashamed of myself were attraction/falling in love and standing up for myself when I felt there was a conflict of interest, or someone plain didn’t like me.

I’ve played various aversion tactics – from being half open, to trying to convince people of my worth (whilst feeling unworthy, hence why needing their approval) – all to avoid what is.

Facing what is, is freedom. Liberation from your worst enemy – your controlling ego. That thing inside of you that was taught, due to different experiences, what was right and wrong. That thing that is not the ultimate truth, but the made up truth in your mind. That thing that controls your life and controls you right into hell.

Sometimes your emotions, your reactions to things, are controlled by that thing as well. They are a reaction to various beliefs you have. Made up beliefs. So even emotions aren’t always real.

To see emotions – to see beyond emotions – is liberating. Just as liberating as realizing your life is yours to live. You were given the gift to explore this life. You can explore your emotions too. Just don’t act till you’ve seen if they’re true, or a result of beliefs. You don’t have to feel guilty for enjoying life after someone died. That guilt is false. And hey, I became friends with my best friend because we realized we had a crush on the same guy. None of us intended to rob the other person’s chocolate factory – we just intended to explore and see what happened. None of us got the guy, but we got each other.

The truth doesn’t often hurt us – it’s what we make up about the truth that hurt us. Likewise, your emotions won’t hurt you if you face them and let go of what you’ve made up about them. That first reaction of guilt, pain, fear…it will soon pass if you only let it.

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The life illusion…

Lately I’ve been thinking about living. Truly living. Like really living.

It’s strange. We’re all alive, but sometimes it feels like we aren’t living. Not really. It’s like we’re living a fraction of what we truly could live.

We are only living a fraction because we’ve been boxed in with our own thinking and our own habitual patterns. We walk around in invisible worlds we have created for ourselves. Worlds where we think one thing is possible and another is not. Worlds where we feel certain things, yet they may have little to do with reality. Many people don’t feel loved, or appreciated, even when they’re standing smack in the middle of a love storm. Others feel like failures no matter how far they go. Some continuously provoke other people’s anger, just so as to feel like outcasts. And we think that’s the way life is; that’s the way it’s supposed to feel. Only it isn’t.

Have you ever had a dream and you’ve worked towards that dream, at the same time you know you never really felt it? Not the way it was meant to be felt? Like you sort of knew where you were going, but it’s like having this idea of driving a sports car without ever really truly having driven one. Never felt the engine roar. Your imagination has been limited. And you never fully grasped your own dream because of it. You could never really feel them. Because to truly have a great job, a great relationship, or a certain kind of lifestyle was so far out of your radar that you could’t grasp it. Then suddenly something shifts and you can feel how truly remarkable it would really be. Suddenly it’s actually possible to obtain your dream. At that moment you might actually already have started living, because there has been a shift. You allow yourself to feel a new reality.

We often miss the miracle of a moment because our emotions are telling us we are living a reality we aren’t. We’re still wounded because of past experiences so even when something truly amazing happens we can’t grasp it. We still worry about something. We still think it’s not real because we couldn’t possibly have achieved that. It’s like the person winning a gold medal feeling nothing but determination to beat their new record; they can’t enjoy the now because they’re so wired to constantly move forward. Maybe they are already fretting about not being able to go any further. That their career might stall after this moment. They can’t reap their glory; they finally achieved their goal – they won – but they can’t feel it. And even if their career was to stall, they could enjoy their achievements and find other joys. It’s just, their brain isn’t wired that way. They’d rather suffer about the fact they can’t physically go further.

Others have a problem thinking further than this very moment. It’s so easy to do something today, not feeling what it will lead to further down the line. If someone got lung cancer the moment they touched a cigarette, they wouldn’t touch a cigarette. But people fail to see down the line – if it’s not hurting now they can’t imagine it hurting in the future. Which is also why the world is becoming over populated. People don’t think. They think about the now, but not about the future. Want your kids to have  a future? Don’t have too many of them.

And it’s like man’s ultimate disillusion right – our failure to live in the moment and simultaneously our failure to think ahead and really believe in it. We have a cigarette thinking we won’t die. Yet, we cannot sit down and enjoy ourselves because we are fretting about tomorrow. I mean, what’s up with that?

To be able to do what you need to do to create a great tomorrow, whilst simultaneously enjoying the now, without any past baggage or worry about the future, that takes a real pro at life. Someone who can just be. Without a single thought of their own perceived image of self, their worries, or other people’s thoughts. Someone who can give themselves the gift of life. Of joy. Of simply being. And when they dream, or think of tomorrow, it’s not with fear, but with you. Embracing what is to come.

Joy. That. Now.

Here and Now. Montgomery Clift.

The Actor watching himself. I’d say this image, in a sense, says it all. Maybe Montgomery Clift’s life says it all. 

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Filed under Joy, Life, Personal Development, personal thoughts, philosophy, Spirituality