Word for this week: Planning!

English: Pope's Hill, Kielder Forest. A mounta...

Roads are not this bad on my morning trip, luckily. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Feel rather proud this morning. Yesterday when I was planning the week, and checking the weather, I decided that I might cycle to work today. So I found all my warm clothes, my shoes, some woolen socks, and laid it out, all ready. As I woke up at 6 this morning, I was so tired, and so much like, “oh no, this is not going to happen”. I just couldn’t imagine one hour and a half on the bike, before feeling awake at all.

But I did it. It wasn’t the happiest 30 km in my life, but I got to work without having had to walk up one single hill (there are quite a few). The time wasn’t bad either. This afternoon, the forecast says STORM, so it will be a fun trip home…

I know, that if I hadn’t used some time yesterday to find my gear and getting it all ready, I would have gotten into my warm and cosy car instead. The same way that I know, that if I don’t shop before I get hungry, I end up eating things I regret. Because I do have these ideas in my head: Cycling is good for me (but so many times I give up, because it is early in the morning and cold and rain and it is so far). I like to eat healthy (but some days I shop late in afternoon, after work, when I am very hungry). I recent chaos, (but I don’t plan for tidying up, not at work, not at home, however, this doesn’t stress me up, it is just uncomfortable). I need to have my head clear, to be relaxed and focused (but sometimes I get carried away with seemingly uncontrollable emotions).

It is all linked together.  This week I will focus on establishing a warm and close friendship between the planning-part and the dedication-part of me. I hope they will hit it off 🙂

A poem and a flower

Twin flowers of Ipomoea acuminata

Twin flowers of Ipomoea acuminata (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve gotten to love these poems from Rabindranath Tagore. It’s not all that often I have the time to concentrate for long enough time to get the grips of poems. But maybe that is changing…
Enjoy 🙂

Brink of Eternity

In desperate hope I go and search for her
in all the corners of my room;
I find her not.

My house is small
and what once has gone from it can never be regained.

But infinite is thy mansion, my lord,
and seeking her I have to come to thy door.

I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky
and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.

I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish
—no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.

Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean,
plunge it into the deepest fullness.
Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch
in the allness of the universe.

Rabindranath Tagore

Me and all the others

child abuse

Child abuse (Photo credit: Southworth Sailor)

I am different. Aren’t we all… I thought about that today, that feeling. Nobody can understand me, because I am different from them, the others.
It was something I read about helping young people with addictions, that got the thinking going.
We seem to think that we are unique. And I am, but there are not six billions different personality types. Something must be similar other then the fact that all humans have a mind.
When I was a child, I defined my whole being, on the “different” part. I saw people being happy, but had problems relating it to my existence. Of course I had moments of happiness, breaks, Christmas, my secret places. But I saw families and other children with lives so different from my own.
I guess that was what made the distance so enormous. When others tried to get near me, I’d back off. I was so different that the idea of being like them was a concept impossible to understand. The idea that someone could help, wasn’t there at all. For me as a  child. Guess I am growing up now.
Following this was the understanding that nothing could change. I was stuck (as the only one in the world) in my situation, with negligence and abuse, and a life outside of the ordinary.
I was way out. When I sort of cleaned up, and got my life together, I used patterns and behaviour I had watched and learned. I did what people expected me to. I hid away the abused child, and what had been me. Put it in a huge locked box and threw away the key. And for some years, I was probably nobody… Well, I know that’s not possible.
I guess over the years I have found me again, and started working out how my experience has shaped me, and my life.
Sometimes I am very strong, feel like I know what I am doing, and love my life. Sometimes I feel very scared about what has been, scared of those feelings that sort of can take over my whole being.
Sometimes I am just scared. But I’m not all that different anymore.

Related:
The end of childhood as a Horror movie 

How are things at home

Sleepless on a Sunday night – part two

Sleepless

Sleepless (Photo credit: pittaya)

I got to sleep. at last… some six hours ago. And now I have been up for two hours. I hate it when this happens, and it does, from time to time. No matter taking my sleeping pills, relaxing, meditation, listening to the “Deep leep”-app. I think I’ve sort of taken over my husbands worries over missing the plane monday morning. So I am as anxious as he is, just that night of the week.

And then it starts, thinking about everything I should have done, the kitchen is a mess, I should have finished the house, because during the week I never have the time, I should have done an attempt at least in the garden. Should have should have should have. From there over to more depressing things, like I don’t really like it when he goes away for the whole week. Not every week. For once it would have been nice to spend more time together… I think we should have done something nice. I doesn’t really take more to ruin a night.

Day time thoughts are totally different. I’m going to need the day, to get awake and ok again, I guess.

I hate it when this happens.

What does it take to be able to CHOOSE?

Deutsch: junge Bregenzerwälder beim Schanzen i...

I’d make a spectacular fall here! Damüls-Krumbach in Vorarlberg. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve lived so many years in a sort of not-grounded state. Floating…

I hate skiing, if someone filmed me as I got my skis on, and if I managed to stay upright for ten seconds, it would be a hit on YouTube. The fall, I mean.

It has been like that, hoping to cope, hoping to be on solid ground, hoping not to fall. And I have fallen so many times. For the last 20 years, it has been slowly crawling up, and falling deep. Dangerously deep.

If someone would say to me you can choose differently (a good friend did) I’d be willing to try, but never understood. And resigned, feeling a bit lost.

I used to have a blog, where I’d write whenever I felt down, or panicked, or lost, or did drugs. It became a monster. I would hardly read it at all, and it was totally private. I’d post by phone, and just put all evil feelings there. It hardly ever made me feel better, more the opposite. I just got to think even more, and made it ever more complicated… Some thousand posts of feelings, that I felt I had to cling on to. It felt as if those bad feelings was all I had.

Good to delete it! 🙂

I don’t do blog like that anymore. Something has changed, and I am not sure what. Maybe I grew up? Maybe I got smarter? Maybe I just changed.

Now I can choose.

I have chosen to stay around for as long as I can. I was always convinced that I would die before I reached the age at which my mother died.

I have chosen to be ACTIVE in healing, though the first steps to make that choice have been taken many times.

I have chosen to change.

I’ve become aware of the minds capacity to hold on to those safe patterns of behaviour. Those destructive ones. I have decided to change them. I hope never again to feel like skiing, my mind is programmed to solid ground.

Knowing this makes me feel rich. What is it that makes you able to choose?

My bicycle and I

Pictograms of Olympic sports - Cycling (mounta...

Pictograms of Olympic sports – Cycling (mountain bike) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He bought me a bike for my tenth birthday. I felt proud. both my brother and sister had to wait until they were 12.

Ever since the summer, I had been borrowing my sisters old fashioned ladies bike, and learned to ride it. We had a large parking lot not far from our house, it belonged to the church and was almost always empty. Great place to learn to ride a bike.

I was too short, I couldn’t use the seat. I fell over, into some pine bushes, many times. I hurt my knees, I remember scratching  as it started to itch. But I made it. Around the parking lot, hardly reaching up to the handles, and the circle of the pedals was so wide, it was a real challenge!

I got a bike. My friends had red ones with small wheels, mine was blue, with big ones. I loved it. My new best friend. When spring came again, I went for long rides. I wouldn’t tell, because somebody would say it I wasn’t allowed.

Our housekeeper had relatives, living 40 kilometers away from us. I became friends with their children, and I went to visit. Usually I would stay over. I loved going for long rides alone too. During the summer, I could go away for the whole day. But never liked to come home.

I had it for ten years, it had many moments of loving care and fun. Regret selling it.

Energy?

An orange cloth umbrella. Français : Une ombre...

An orange cloth umbrella. Français : Une ombrelle en tissu orange. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I need some sparkling energy, I think the colour for that must be orange! Actually wearing some orange clothes today, but the effect of the colour doesn’t seem to have reached my brain!

All the cycling has made me get up at 6 AM, and even if I don’t have to, I still wake up that early. Today I feel like yawning all the time, and even more out of focus at work then I have been these last few days. I didn’t sleep that well last night either.

Concentration, please come my way:) I have some important (but boring) stuff that need a conclusion!

Those who follow my blog will know, it has taken some effort to start this. The writing, the thought of sharing, therapy, my worries and well… Just a bit crazy days. No negative experiences though,  quite the opposite from those of you who have read and commented:) I am so happy about that!

But a bit worn out. We are going away for a few days, no work, no cycling, rest, some wine. Looking forward to spending some time with my husband, and talk about things completely different! Take some photos (another one of my passions), look at the sea and the mountains. Think that’s going to be great!

And hopefully, Monday will appear with fast fingers on the keyboard, fast thinking turning into good ideas for my work projects, so that the feeling of being behind on all this will disappear.

But now, more coffee! 🙂