Search Results for born to run

#blogg100 – A nothingness enters.

#blogg100 – A nothingness enters.

April 7, 2017
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”There is no evidence of the soul except in its sudden absence. A nothingness enters, taking the place where something was before. A night without starts falls and for a moment covers everything in the room.”

Bruce Springsteen writes about the death of The Big Man, Clarence Clemons. As I sit here, horrified by the events today – one wreaked havoc and caused deaths on a street in Stockholm this afternoon. Another the less public and Kafkaesque experience, of sitting in on a ”return dialogue” at the Swedish Migration Agency, where all I wanted to do was shout This is not dignified! We cannot treat human beings as if they are pawns in a chess game! – I remember Bruce words, that affected me so a few nights ago, as I read it.

me and ekmanA nothingness enters… and all I am left with is a resounding sense of regret. Regret at what we humans are capable of doing towards and against one another. Dehumanizing our brothers and sisters, and in one fell swoop dehumanizing ourselves at the same time.

I don’t want to become numb. So I ration my exposure to the horrors of the world. Knowing I show up more loving when I do. And yet. Sometimes it is hard to resist, the numbness alluring, like the song of the siren… But even more enticing is the love, the generosity, the human instinct to look after one another, to care for our brothers and sisters. With that sense of love and compassion, I go to bed, lucky me and my loved ones are safe, sending out a warm heartfelt embrace to those less lucky.

”There is no evidence of the soul except in its sudden absence. A nothingness enters, taking the place where something was before. A night without starts falls and for a moment covers everything in the room.”

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 38 of 100.
The book “Born to run” by Bruce Springsteen.
English posts here, Swedish at
herothecoach.com.

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#blogg100 – The beginnings of my song.

March 24, 2017
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I’ve just gotten started on the book Born to run by Bruce Springsteen, but I am already smitten. The way he writes, how he crafts words into sentences, carving them to paint pictures within my mind, the tonality and rhythm of the phrases making me rejoice, and sometimes even be completely awestruck.

Bruce Springsteen is a skilled word crafter, creating worlds within me. I should not be surprised, really. From the lyrics of his songs, I know this. But still – with letters turning into words, making up sentences, forming phrases and paragraphs, sometimes direct and extremely explicit, sometimes elusive and coy, leaving me to weave my own image of what is roughly sketched on the page – I am smitten.

“This is the world where I found the beginnings of my song.”

What an alluring sentence. Inviting me to think back, to reflect on the beginnings of my song. And is it a song? For me? For Bruce, oh yeah. Without a doubt. But for me? Maybe. Maybe not. Is it perhaps more of a story for me, a novel? I write. Now. And I am so happy I am. It’s one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever given myself, taking on the challenge of blogging daily for one hundred days, which now is a routine of mine that has me hooked. It is so thrilling. I truly enjoy it.

beginnings of my songAs I write this, sitting in bed, after a long day at a customer writing their quality manual (not exactly thrilling writing in the same way, I admit. But still – quite the challenge, and filled with opportunity for learning!), a smile slowly spreads across my face. My eyes twinkle and I sit here giggling, cherishing the experience of letting come. Not knowing what’s next – what my fingers will get up to, dancing on the small keyboard of my mini IPad, and then – all of a sudden, there it is. A sentence, a paragraph, a blog post, two or perhaps, even three. The beginnings of my song?

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 24 of 100.
The book “Born to run” by Bruce Springsteen.
English posts here, Swedish at herothecoach.com.

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#blogg100 – More important, why.

March 8, 2017
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“One of the questions I’m asked over and over again by fans on the street is “How do you do it?”. In the following pages I will try to shed a little light on how and, more important, why.”

Born to runAs a sucker for Why, already in the foreword to Born to run, Bruce Springsteen has me on the hook. I read a biography on him a few years ago and loved it. All of a sudden the man behind the artist stepped forward, claiming his place in all of it, and I was impressed. Mightly so, actually. So when I heard he was gonna release his own story, in his own words, I immediately ordered the book from my local library, and now it’w my turn. My turn to delve deep into the life of Bruce, as told by himself. And I look forward to finding out more about his Why. Because in a sense, I think it’s not so hard to figure out the How, is it? You play, play, play, and do all you can to get gigs, be seen, and so on. Busting your balls to get “the break” and when it comes, to be good enough to last longer than the proverbial fifteen minutes of fame allocated us all, according to Andy Warhol.

But the Why? What’s his Why? What’s the driving force behind Bruce, the musician, artist, performer extraordinaire, what are his reasons for doing what he does, and to keep at it, for years on end?

Seth Godin often talks about the pointlessness to How-questions. Asking Stephen King how he writes his books, what pen he uses, what paper, what computer, what hours in the day…. Finding out all those details still won’t take me an inch closer to “becoming the next Stephen King” will it? No. It won’t. One thing, and one thing only will give me even the tiniest of shots at becoming just that: Writing. Sitting down, every day, to write.

And it’s the same with Bruce’s How. It’s not the type of guitar, the program he uses to record sound tracks or the microphone he uses that’s the success factor. It’s that he – consistently and constantly – writes music, and plays it. Sitting down, every day, to write and play music. That’s it. And even though the driving force behind his desire, the urge, the calling, to do just that, might not in any way exist inside me – I know, that when people tell their stories, share their Why’s, something might resonate within me. A twitch, a vibe, something starting to strum, louder and louder, causing me to do what any successful person does, which is: Do my thing, over and over again. When I find something that pulls at me, won’t let go, if I let my energy flow in the direction of where it want’s to go, I will improve over time, I will learn, grow, expand, I will find success. In some way, shape or form.

And that leads me to another thought, about what Success actually means. To me. Not so sure it matters though, for me, or for Bruce? Maybe Bruce wanted to be a world-famous rock star, dreamt of Success, but I venture a guess that is not what drives him, at least not still. That cannot be his fuel today, can it, because he achieved that goal decades ago! There has to be another Why behind it, another reason for him continuing to do what it is he does. Perhaps it’s as simple as having found the thing he cannot NOT do?

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 8 of 100.
The book “Born to run” by Bruce Springsteen.
English posts here, Swedish at herothecoach.com.

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Bruce – more than meets the ear and eye

September 8, 2016
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I love reading. I especially love reading biographies and have done ever since I was a child (or at least a teenager). So when I browsed the local library a few weeks ago, and spotted Bruce, I borrowed it and brought it home to read.Bruce

And what a book! It’s a well written biography, and despite the enormous amount of facts present in the book, it’s a joy to read, and doesn’t feel as information-laden as it actually is. But what really made me enjoy this book was Bruce himself. What a story. What a character. And jeez, what a skilled person, in his craft. Gifted musician, extremely (!!!) productive composer, and a very special singer, with a distinct voice.

Born to run is an album my older brother introduced me to when I was a kid, which was my entryway to Bruce Springsteen, and in a sense, I never got past it. I still think it’s the best he’s done, and Jungleland is, to this day, one of my absolute favorite songs. In my teens I listened to it over and over, drawn to the drama of the story, the varying sounds and atmospheres, and the powerful feeling of the entire song. But it’s been a while since I listened to it, so when I came upon the part of the book telling the story of the creation of that specific album, I immediately found it on Spotify, and started to listen. And did so with a new sensation, a deeper background, an understanding making me hear more in each song, picking up on the feeling behind, that which is sensed rather than heard.

While reading this book, a feeling grew stronger and stronger within me:
People are not what they seem to be. There’s so much more to each and every one of us, than what is apparent on the outside.

Even though this is not an autobiography, I got many glimpses of the person behind the public figure of Bruce Springsteen aka The Boss. And my reverie grew, page after page. For Bruce. His father, mother, grandparents. For people who tries to make the best of what they got, even when their best is far from sufficient… For the talented people walking alongside Bruce throughout his career. And for the audience, the listeners, the fans.

As I read, my reverie grew for human beings. We do try to make the best of what we get, and sometimes, it turns out absolutely magnificent. Sometimes, we end up with total rubbish, disaster, chaos and dread. Sometimes, the distance between a point of magnificence and a point of disaster is mere millimeters or seconds apart. The high’s and low’s of life. That’s what it is to be human. That is the Human Experience. And no one escapes it. Not me. Not you. Not Bruce. There’s no protection from it, thank God. Because without it, life would not be worth living. Life is made up of moments of high’s and low’s. And every single human being on Earth lives life according to this basic premise.

…..
Outside the street’s on fire 

In a real death waltz 
Between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy 
And the poets down here 
Don’t write nothing at all 
They just stand back and let it all be 
And in the quick of the night 
They reach for their moment 
And try to make an honest stand 
But they wind up wounded 
Not even dead 
Tonight in Jungleland
…..

Since 2012 I have blogged over at herothecoach.com in a jumble of Swedish and English and this post is a sample of what I’ve been writing there over the years. As of 2016 I only write in Swedish there, and in English here. I hope you enjoy this #ThrowbackThursday, originally published here, and if you do, please subscribe to updates so you won’t miss out on future posts.

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Blackfish – a must-see!

August 8, 2016
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Whale watching.
It almost didn’t happen, during our family vacation to Seattle and Vancouver. But I just couldn’t let the opportunity slip through my fingers. So it did. We went whale watching, all four of us. And what an experience!

Luckily enough we went out on a morning trip and it didn’t take long, once we’d come to the sheltered waters amongst the Gulf Islands outside Vancouver, before we saw the A-group of the J pod – if my memory serves me right, that is. No promises there! But then Google wipes my uncertainty away, and I can inform you that my memory serves me just perfectly, thank you very much.orca 1

We saw Granny, over one hundred years old (born in 1911) and the oldest known orca in the whole world, as well as a few of her grandchildren as well as a few of her great- and great-great-grandchildren, as well as a huge male that usually hangs around with Granny, according to the naturalist onboard the whale watching vessel from Steveson Seabreeze Adventures.

orca 4

We followed the A group for close to two hours as they headed for open sea, and it was awe-inspiring. Absolutely stunning. Looking back, it’s hard to grasp, that we’ve actually seen these majestic creatures in the wild.

And that’s the thing. That’s the only place where you should watch orcas!orca 3

I just finished watching Blackfish with my husband. Just two weeks after witnessing the grandeur of orcas, here we are, witnessing the horror that humans have inflicted upon orcas, from these waters. Quite probable there are orcas in captivity related to Granny and the rest of the orcas in the pods in the Puget Sound and Salish sea area.

What a tragic documentary, and yet, it’s a must-see! There are still too many orca’s in captivity, in surroundings that are just torture for these creatures who swim for miles any given day, out in the wild. You cannot build a compound that can provide what these animals need, it’s just not possible. They are too large, and move to quickly, and simply should not be kept in captivity. And then I haven’t even started to tell you about the social structure. The matriarch runs the show, with brilliance, grace, guts and a lot of experience. And they stick together, having developed a part of the mammalian brain that humans haven’t got. They are social, in a way that surpasses anything human beings are capable of.orca 2One of the baby orca’s that we saw, possibly the one sticking it’s head up above, is 1-2 years old, and has teeth marks over her body. You see, she was stuck during birth, and the older orcas grabbed her, with their teeth, and pulled her out, saving her life as well as the life of her mother. As I saw the pictures of her scarred back, shown to me by our guide, tears welled up in the corner of my eyes. Imagine the wisdom of Granny and her relatives, to know that they had to help this baby orca out of her mother, or else they would both perish.

The species is facing extinction, in part because of a lack of food, but also because as top predators, toxins amass in them, causing them to get sick and die. I had no clue, but there are resident orcas that feed on salmon and squid (such as the J-pod), transient that feed on sea mammals and sea birds, and yet a third type, offshore orcas, that feed on fish, sharks and sea turtles. J-pod, and the other pods in the Pacific Northwest, are the most studied orca’s on earth. Our guide told us, she (and I am assuming this goes for all the other naturalist guides onboard all the whale watching vessels) has to fill in a report for every sighting of an orca. Location, time and date, and numbers. She took plenty of photographs, and was thrilled at our luck. You see – this was just the 4th or 5th orca sighting in the area since the spring, because this years salmon run is so bad the pods have to stay further away, to be able to eat.

Facing extinction though, doesn’t mean they are extinct. Not yet. So there’s hope. Perhaps we can start with ending the ruthless captivity of way too many orca’s like Tilikum?

Granny is over one hundred years old. In captivity orca’s never live that long.

In captivity almost all male orca’s show dorsal fin collapse. In the wild, it’s almost not seen at all. And the dorsal fin is all muscle. In a grown male, it can be as large as 6 feet, that is, close to two meters. Imagine that!

There no record of an orca in the wild harming a human being. In captivity, there are too many tragic examples, as Blackfish shows all to clearly.

It is beneath us, as a species, to treat other sentient beings like this, is it not?

 

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Dissolving into the infinite

May 5, 2016
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I sit on the sofa, with D in front of me. He just arrived, as we had agreed the day before. He said “I noticed a resistance, like my timing was off?” and yes… he was so right. I had four more hazelnuts I wanted to munch down, before we got started. Felt a bit embarrassed at myself, chewing, chewing, chewing. As he raises the slightly off-vibes, immediately I drop into the NOW, and realize, here is a person who sees so much more than that which is visible using only the eyes. An hour long therapeutic process awareness experience commenced, widening me, to the extent that I felt I was close to being without boundaries – so far outside of my own body, it’s almost scary. But just almost. I would not trade that experience for anything in the world.

Being seen. Held. Loved.

Tears and laughter.

Deep anguish, as well as the most divine experience of slowly dissolving into the infinite, that which is me, and outside of me, ’til the end of spacetime…translucent

I don’t know how to describe what D leads me to experience, but it’s something unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s going within, while simultaneously going out, far and wide, reaching all that is, has been and will ever be.

When we are done, and I’ve landed again, somewhat at least, within the confines of my own body, there is a translucent feeling to it, to me. I am tired. Like having run a marathon… or so I imagine, since I never have.

Time disappeared as we sat opposite each other on the sofa. All that was, was all that is. All. And nothing. At the same time.

I saw more of me.
Saw those that came before me, the generations upon generations of women who have given birth to babies, who in turn bore babies, and somewhere along the line this resulted in my mother giving birth to me. And me giving birth to my daughter.

About holding it in…. or not.
The pivotal moment in time when the path ahead, for the women stemming from my womb, going back all the way to the womb of my First Mother, shifts, no longer carrying the weight, the burden, of judgement and inner harshness, concealed within. Letting it out into the world. Being, perhaps, created by those who cannot stand to see it, visibly, so used to it being concealed. Cringing from the physical aspects of it, when it is recreated outside, rather than sneakily hidden underneath the skin, the flesh, deep within our soulbodies. So much easier to ignore, pretend it’s not existing, turning it into something that-we-must-not-name…

About the jagged sensation of Worry.
And the much softer and huggable Concern.

Running a gauntlet.
Not because of the session itself, but because that’s what I have been doing, inside myself, for so long. So long I almost cry thinking about it. And cry I did. Oh, how I cried. For what has been. And what might be.

Dream-paralysis.
Lethargy.
Heavy. So heavy I cannot even flutter an eyelid. Impossible to move.
And yet… the ability to move is there. I choose not to. But why? Why?

Tired.
Oh, so tired, from running that gauntlet.
Feeling so alone. Absolutely alone, with no assistance… and then D reaches out his being to me, and holds me with his eyes.

Crying, desperately. But for once, sharing the burden of my pain, not alone in it, not having to carry it all alone. D is there, helping me carry… and I can imagine what it would feel like, to let go of all the responsibility that is not mine to carry, that I have been lugging around, for eons of time… believing that I should? That I would have no value unless I took it all on?

Oh. Be gentle. I am still learning. Stumbling about on earth, doing the best I can, failing miserably at times, exultingly successful other times. And meanwhile, putting myself through that gauntlet, over and over, a never-ending story.

Or? Might my time as a gauntlet-runner be coming to an end? Now that I’ve seen it, experienced it, become aware, so aware, excruciatingly, painfully aware of what I’ve been internally putting myself through, out of… what? Fear?

Pure. Innocent.
Might I be? Am I allowed to be? To just Be? Aware?
Letting go of all that has been, being reborn. Like Phoenix, reborn from the fire, rising from the burning embers, flapping it’s wings and flying off… Being, Aware, and only carrying the weight of the responsibility that is Mine to carry. Letting the rest burn off, turn to ashes in the fire.

Liberated.
Jivanmukta.

As I write this, it’s there once more. The sensation. Dissolving into infinity.
At least, I feel it again, I revisit it as I write. I close my eyes, and it is within me. The liberation, experiencing the moment that is what is, all that ever has been, and all that will ever be. In one single point. Now.

Have I ever had an experience as humbling as this?

Since 2012 I have blogged over at herothecoach.com in a jumble of Swedish and Englishand this post is a sample of what I’ve been writing there over the years. As of 2016 I only write in Swedish there, and in English here. I hope you enjoy this #ThrowbackThursday, originally published here, and if you do, please subscribe to updates so you won’t miss out on future posts. And by all means – get in touch with D if you are in need of the best listener there is!

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Doing gentle – 2 – Innate well-being

January 24, 2016
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doing gentle 2You not only deserve being gentle towards yourself, it’s actually how you are born. We are all born with an innate well-being. It’s our birthright. It is there. Always there. Sometimes clouded over, but still, always already there, even if it’s in the background. Just like the sun. It’s always there, regardless if it’s a clear, crisp sunny winter day, or a cloudy, rainy and windy autumn day. The sun is there. It’s just hidden behind the cloud cover. It’s there at night as well, it just so happens there’s a planet between you and it.

Well-being is the same. It is always already there. And even better, there’s nothing I have to do to get it up and running. It’s like gravity. Gravity is always there, regardless if I know about it or not. A toddler jumping off the couch will fall down on the floor, despite not knowing a thing about gravity. Gravity doesn’t require you to know about it, for it to work. It just works. It’s just there.

So what if you stop thinking about yourself as if well-being is something that lies outside of yourself, something that can only be obtained if you get that job you want, or fall in love with the perfect man, or win the lottery, or… whatever. Happiness and well-being doesn’t reside outside of you. It is in you, and is always already in you.

What if well-being is always available to you, regardless of the circumstances?

Welcome to my new website, where the underlying tone centers around being gentle to oneself. On Sundays I will be sharing thoughts on how I do gentle, and this is the second of those. I hope you enjoy it and if you do, please subscribe to updates so you won’t miss out on future posts in this series.

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Please be gentle, I’m still learning

January 7, 2016
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Please be gentle, I’m still learning” Robbie Williams sings in the song Advertising Space. Imagine living approximately forty years before getting that. Forty years before understanding that if I’m not gentle with myself, much less learning takes place. 

If I associate learning with pain, with being chastised, told off, “I should have known”:ed, do you think my system would be promoting and encouraging learning? 

No. It (I) will run the other way. Shut down, slowly, insights will be fewer and farther apart… or at least, they will be significantly more quiet, almost unaudible. The inner voice of wisdom, of universal mind, will be barricaded, by myself, by my self-preserving ego. The inner voice will be unwanted. Out of fear. Fear of the pain that comes with learning, which I’ve associated with pain and harshness. 

And that will only change once I begin to be gentle with myself. And I speak from personal experience when I say that being gentle with me, is a very strange and unfamiliar concept for one accustomed to being harsh. Realizing my internal harshness was one of the greatest aha-moments of my life, and what I saw was that it’s not mandatory to be my own harshest judge. Kindness, gentleness, is an option. Also for me. 

This insight has been with me since 2006 or 2007, and took place during a therapy session. Since then I’ve practiced being gentle with myself, och it’s something which comes more and more natural to me nowadays. And that’s me reverting back to being more fully me, because I think it is our natural state. We’re born and created to be gentle with ourselves, otherwise we wouldn’t be the learning creatures that we are, from the very get go.

Imagine a small child being harsh with herself for not immediately knowing how to walk, run, ride a bicycle. A child is naturally gentle with themselves, trying, failing, falling down, trying again, failing, falling down, trying again…. over and over until suddenly, one step is managed, then two, then all of a sudden, the child can walk, can run, can ride a bike. 

What happens to us? Why do we – or at least I – stop being gentle with ourselves, and rather start to be hard on ourselves? Is that why children are the greatest learners there is? Not because adults don’t have the capacity to learn, but because we’ve stopped being gentle with ourselves, we expect to get things right away, and we are afraid to try and fail.

Because we’ve put another meaning on what it means to fail, than the child trying to learn how to walk, run, rida a bike. We believe it means we are bad, not good enough. While the child simply knows it means that the learning process is still unfolding, there’s more to learn, more to master, before the learning process has manifested into yet another skill. And somehow, adults impose their faulty understanding upon children, creating yet another harsh un-learner. What if we adults instead would learn from children what it is we are born to be? Life long learners, where the only prerequisite is being gentle to ourselves.

Please be gentle, I’m still learning. Are you?

Welcome to my new website!
Since 2012 I have blogged over at herothecoach.com and this post is a sample of what I’ve been writing over the years. I hope you enjoy this #ThrowbackThursday, originally published here, and if you do, please subscribe to updates so you won’t miss out on future posts.

Read More