Monthly Archives March 2017

#blogg100 – It is unrealistic.

#blogg100 – It is unrealistic.

March 31, 2017
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I’ve seen enough change in my lifetime to know
that despair is not only self-defeating, it is unrealistic.
– Susan Griffin

I believe this to be true.
Not necessarily on an individual level, but most definitely on a collective level. I mean, an individual may be in a hole so deep, there is no perceived way out. Despair is a most likely, and probable choice, in a situation like that. It is still a choice though, meaning that it’s not a default setting. It’s not the only possible way to be, when one finds oneself deep down in a dark hole. But perhaps we are more used to people despairing in such situations, than staying in high spirits, enjoying the little things in life. And even those people will likely fall in and out of the feeling of despair, as hopeless thoughts comes and goes, which they do. All by themselves.

But despair is self-defeating. For the individual.
NaughtAs I close my eyes, and feel my way around, and into, the feeling of despair, tasting it, smelling it, feeling the texture and size of it…. it opens up a void within me; unfathomable depths of nothingness.

And from that place… nothing sparks.
Nothing can live. No initiative, no interest, no connection.

There is simply… Naught.

But we are not all there, in despair, at the same time. Not if there’s enough of us to make up a small group. And that’s why, on a collective level, self-despair is unrealistic – because we are a social creature, meant to be together, connected, intertwined, helping and being helped. When one of us is down for the count, the rest of us will – must! – step up and rise to the challenge, doing what needs be done.

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 31 of 100.
The book “Hope in the dark” by Rebecca Solnit.
English posts here, Swedish at

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#blogg100 – Live the questions now.

March 29, 2017
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Krista Tippett, my all-time favorite podcast host, from my all-time favorite podcast On Being, often mentions Rilke and his Letters to a young poet. I finally ordered a copy and read it. When I wrote #blogg100 post number 26 I was reminded of Rilke. Specifically Live the questions now. I grabbed my copy of the book from the shelf, started flicking through it, and slowly, a smile spread across my face. living the questions

Oh! The thrill of having another w o n d e r f u l book, filled with my scribbles (in pencil, that’s as far as I can go when it comes to making marks in books), to dig into, and save up for more and more posts for my deep-diving-into-books-theme of #blogg100.

So. Here you are. An invite to live the questions, in the words of Rainer Maria Rilke, a paragraph from one of his letters:

“You are so young, you have not even begun, and I would like to beg you, dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything that is unsolved in your heart and to try to cherish the questions themselves, like closed rooms and like books written in a very strange tongue. Do not search now for the answers which cannot be given you because you could not live them. It is a matter of living everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day live right into the answer. Perhaps indeed you carry within yourself the possibility of shaping and forming, as a particularly pure and blessed kind of life; train yourself for it – but take what comes in complete trust, if only it comes from your will, from some inner need of yours, take it to yourself and do not hate anything.”

What a wondrous way of moving in the world:
Living the questions, to live into the answers. 

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 29 of 100.
The book “Letters to a Young Poet” by Rainer Maria Rilke.
English posts here, Swedish at

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Being gentle to me – Reflection March ’17

March 28, 2017
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There’s this thing come July, that I simply do not want to do, this year around. I’ve done it a handful of times, and it’s given me so much. Connection, exploration, insight, fun and laughter as well as frustration and realization of the boxes that block creativity from flourishing… often for a good cause, but leading wrong, so wrong.

This year though – I do not want to go there. I do not want to be there. I do not want to put any energy into it.

So I said it.
Straight out.

I don’t want to go there this year. 

Sick and tired of it.
I felt it already last year, that my heart wasn’t in it. And even less so this year.

So I said No, to this, which translates into a Yes, to me.

GardeningI will be going next year. Next year there’s a reason, a project I’m involved in, which is very close to my heart. This year, there’s not, and so I want to stay at home. All summer, actually. I haven’t made any plans for the summer, no travels booked or anything, I simply want to stay at home. Resting. Relaxing. Enjoying the garden, the summer evenings, letting myself slow down to the speed of life.

Saying No to this, and Yes to me, is how I’ve practiced being gentle to me, in the month of March.

It’s not the first go I make at saying Yes to me, I’ve been practicing, making it easier each time. It also helps when the person receiving the No, realize it’s not about them. It’s all about me. It’s a No for now because of my need for a Yes right now, for me. And I am proudly honoring myself by granting me the respite I need.

Welcome to my humble abode, where the underlying tone centers around being gentle to oneself. I will be reflecting on a monthly basis on what that means to me, in the moment, and this is one of those reflections. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please subscribe to updates so you won’t miss out on future reflections.

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The act of noticing things

March 26, 2017
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in Tip

My friend Laura told me she’d listened to Ellen Langer on On Being, and suggested I check it out. So I did (and would have anyway, since On Being is a favorite show of mine. But I am so happy for the suggestion!), and once finished, pressed Play immediately, to listen yet another time. And actually, I’ve listened to the episode more than three times by now! It’s definitely a very good show to listen to, at least if you are in any way interested in mindfulness, or mindlessness, for that matter. Ellen Langer has a purely scientific take on it, and I really like her definition of mindfulness: “the simple act of actively noticing things”

Because that is really what it is all about. And she does have a point. I mean, how do I DO “being in the present”? How do I know I am “being in the now”? And she is spot on with her definition. You are present when you notice things. That is how you know you are in the present moment, and not off on a mental tangent somewhere or other.

Now that’s just one of many precious gems in this episode of On Being, and I will just pinpoint one more, before letting you head on over to On Being to listen for yourself.

Fairly early on in the show Ellen speaks about perspectives, and what she said really got me thinking. She points out how nobody truly believes there is just one way to look at the world at large or a specific detail (unless they are a fundamentalist, my addition), and yet, we so often go through life doing just that. And she gave me a much needed nudge, to look at a specific person in a fairly periferal position of my life, who still somehow seem to take up more energy and space than I want. And wham. All of a sudden, I could see what for me seems like very petty and begrudging behavior, in a totally new light. I all of a sudden developed a lot of empathy for said person, because I realized that a likely cause for the behavior is loneliness and a fear of not having any friends.

noticing things

It’s so amazing when those shifts occur, it’s as if a door opens that I had no clue was there in the first place. And that my friends, is definitely an example of the simple act of noticing things.

So. Stop. Pause. Look around you.
Notice five new things about the space you are in?

In 2015 I ran a series on with Sunday postings of podcasts to my liking. In 2017 I will be re-posting some of those blog posts – and this is one of them, originally posted here – , mixing them up with new podcast recommendations. 

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#blogg100 – Only a rumor.

March 25, 2017
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“Knowledge is only a rumor until it lives in the muscle.”

So say the Asaro tribe of Indonesia and Papua New Guinea, and when I read it in Rising Strong, I nod my head in agreement. Because I can know a lot. But if I do not live it, what good is it to me?

Rising strong bwIt’s like when we force our children to “say you’re sorry” when they’ve hit a friend, or snitched the toy car from baby Jane in the sand box. We tell them to “Say you’re sorry.”, and they do. Not knowing why. Not understanding that a sorry doesn’t give you carte blanche to do the same thing again and again, in the days to come. As if a sorry would be enough, making it ok to keep on acting the same way, hitting a friend, snitching the car. It’s not. It’s an excuse, and if it’s a wholehearted excuse, a sorry that we truly feel, then attached to that is the unvoiced promise, that we will not act like that again. We won’t repeat the behavior that caused the apology in the first place, again, and again. At the very least, we vow to tro to be better, act better, grounding ourselves in values and a worldview on how to treat fellow human beings (and everything else on Earth).

If we do, keep it up, repeat it, over and over again – we’ve not understood anything.

And I claim, when we force kids to say sorry, we are making it into a rote behavior, rather than having them understand – with empathy and compassion – what just transpired and feel the sorrow within, the regret, the knowledge that what just happened was unwelcome, and an apology is one way forward.

“Knowledge is only a rumor until it lives in the muscle.”

Knowledge is of use, when it is used. When I make use of it, having it “live in my muscles”, becoming part of who I am, what I do, and why I do it. When I use it to help me be the better me, become the best me possible. And it’s great to have a repository of knowledge within, that I can use when it’s appropriate. I am n o t stating we should only learn that which we see a direct gain for, a reason for, when we plan an implicit action ahead. Oh no. Having a wealth of knowledge within, to utilize if and when I am faced with a new situation, is vital. Ensuring I have the resources when the time comes. But if I don’t use them, when it is time, that’s a missed opportunity. That’s when I should have practiced what I’ve learned, that’s how you walk your talk. Perhaps insecure, a total beginner, never having utilized the knowledge. And that’s fine. We all know it sometimes take a little bit (or a lot!) of practice to get good at something. But refraining from acting, on the basis that I’ve not done it before, don’t really know how to, unsure if I’ll do it good enough – that’s how knowledge remains a rumor. Don’t let it. Please. Make it live in your muscles, and I’ll be doing the same.

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 25 of 100. 
The book “Rising strong” by Brené Brown.
English posts here, Swedish at

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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

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#blogg100 – Basis for action.

March 22, 2017
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Sometimes I am accused of being too hopeful. That nothing will come of it. That I should be doing more – in a sense – everything. I sometimes retreat, hurt, wounded, saddened and defeated by these accusations. Worried that I am not doing enough, that my hope for and positive beliefs of a better and more loving world, are futile, pointless, without meaning.

But then I take comfort in the fact that I have hope. I’d rather have that, than be cynical and defeatist.
And I take comfort in the fact that I am not alone. There are others who, like me, are hopeful, and that, like me, use that as the basis for action.

”…it’s important to emphasize that hope is only a beginning; it’s not a substitute for action, only a basis for it.”

Stemming from hope, action can – and should – be taken. But action is not merely something that’s in the doing, which I think a lot of us believe. We’ve forgotten that action can also be in the being, as well as in the more subtle doings that are not visible. In thinking good thoughts. In spreading energies of love and generosity. In staying silent. In letting someone else shine, holding a space for them to be able to do just that.BoldomaticPost_I-am-only-one-but-still-I-am

Like Helen Keller says, I cannot do everything, but I can do something.

And I keep on getting more and more proof that the attitude with which I step into something – regardless of what – matters a great deal. Do I want to get away from something, or am I eager to get to something else? A world of difference in the feeling within. So yes, action stemming from hope is amongst the finest action we can take.

With a spring in our steps, with bounce and eagerness, wanting change, willing change, inspiring change. Being a force for, rather than against. With an eye to today and tomorrow, leaving behind us the thing of the past, which is what is is. But it does not have to be the same tomorrow, not If I take action, if we take action.

So act, by all means. Act!

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 22 of 100.
The book “Hope in the dark” by Rebecca Solnit.
English posts here, Swedish at

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#blogg100 – Show me a woman.

March 20, 2017
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“Show me a woman who can hold space for a man in real fear and vulnerability, and I’ll show you a woman who’s learned to embrace her own vulnerability and who doesn’t derive her power or status from that man. Show me a man who can sit with a woman in real fear and vulnerability and just hear her struggle without trying to fix it or give advice, and I’ll show you a man who’s comfortable with his own vulnerability and doesn’t derive his power from being Oz, the all-knowing and all-powerful.”

I remember hearing Brené Brown say this, in a podcast I listened to, and I remember how I pressed rewind, to listen to it a few more times, because the way she said it, the feeling behind the words she was using, was so strong, so powerful and with such longing. Longing for more of us to experience this, to simply be held, in a space of love, which is one of the most amazing experiences of life. Rising strong bwNot to be fixed. Not to be told what to do. But simply held. In a space of love.

And I realize that sometimes, in a silence between two people, I am actually n o t being held. That silence rather the sign of a man not knowing how to fix, how to advice; who cannot fathom saying “I don’t know what to do or say when you are so sad and upset. What do you need from me right now?” and hence, simply refrain from doing anything. That place, that space, is not a space of love, trust me. That is a man not comfortable in his own vulnerability, and the feeling behind the non-spoken words reveal that all to clearly.

But am I that woman?

Sometimes yes. Sometimes no.

And often – how weird is this? – I wonder if I am not that man, instead: trying to fix, giving advice. Wanting to h e l p, wanting to get someone out of a muddle… Even when it’s not my muddle, not my action to take, not my responsibility to do anything but simply be there, holding a space of love. I’m practicing though. Practicing holding space for both men and women in real fear and vulnerability, without me having to assert power and status, without me fixing the issue or giving advice how to… Simply holding space. Nothing more, nothing less, and yet, speaking from personal experience, it is somehow the grandest there is. Being held in a space of love is the finest gift we can give each other. And, unfortunately, all too rare.

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 20 of 100.
The book “Rising strong” by Brené Brown.
English posts here, Swedish at

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March 19, 2017
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in Tip

I remember the first time I came across Pico Iyer. He gave a TED Talk on The Art of Stillness that captivated me. His words, his way of showing up in the world, his message. All captivating, and performed in such a way, that something opened up within me.

Stillness was never a word I used to describe myself. Before. Perhaps I’ve been more still in a bodily manner, but definitely not mentally. Mental chatter, constant, busy busy, chatting away at all times. Never knowing how to shut it up, or to stop paying attention to it. Never a still moment. Almost.

Now. I revere the stillness that I find, now and again, often on a daily basis. Meditating for instance. But also in micro moments throughout the day, discovering something beautiful, sensing a smell, or a sound, or even the absence of sound. Captivated, for just a microsecond, as if time stops, ceases to exist, like pressing a pause-button.

Pico Iyer also had a conversation with Krista Tippett, On Being, on the Art of Stillness, and I thought it would be an excellent companion to the reflections on being aware, that have dominated the blog this week. Pico Iyer travels the world, and then travels within his inner world, deciphering the first kind of travels through the second. In a sense, becoming more aware of what goes on outside, by a raised awareness of what goes on inside. travel to be moved

This is what my life journey have started to feel like, a travel, a journey of discovery, of expansion as well as stabilization, of awareness. And the more I travel, roaming the landscape and continents within, the more I am moved by moments of pure presence, in me, as well as outside of me.

Today I will be traveling, and Pico is spot on. I am not traveling for the sake of moving around, I am traveling with the hope of being moved. And I know I will be.

Why do you travel?

In 2015 I ran a series on with Sunday postings of podcasts to my liking. In 2017 I will be re-posting some of those blog posts – and this is one of them, originally posted here – , mixing them up with new podcast recommendations. Found it fitting with this podcast-tip, as I do a lot of reflecting upon the topic of s t i l l n e s s at the moment. 

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#blogg100 – Rising strong.

March 18, 2017
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The intention I set for 2017 is wholeheartedness, and the book Rising strong by Brené Brown that I read in 2016 played a great part in making it so.

“Rising strong after a fall is how we cultivate wholeheartedness in our lives;
it’s the process that teaches us the most about who we are.”

Rising StrongRising strong. Means what?
To you? I don’t know.
To me – living, falling down, getting up, showing up, vulnerable and courageous; and still to keep on. One step at a time.

“We need more people who are willing to demonstrate what it looks like to risk and endure failure, disappointment, and regret – people willing to feel their own hurt instead of working it out on other people, people willing to own their stories, live their values, and keep showing up.”

When I am with people who do this, who step out on a limb, who demonstrate what life is all about, they grant me space to do the same. They don’t hog the space, don’t steal the lime light from me and you and the rest of us. On the contrary I would say. They make the light shine so brightly, so far and wide, that we are all in it, we all have the space and place to be who we are. With all the trapping of human life on earth.

Brené Brown is a qualitative reasearcher, specifically a grounded theory researcher, and as such, she’s interviewed thousands of people on the topics she’s focussing her theory on. And what she found to be the common trait of people who live wholeheared lives is this:

“They’re curious about the emotional world and they face discomfort straight-on.”

For me, my whole life started to pivot once I stopped being afraid of whom I might meet when I looked within, when I started to be curious instead. Now, meeting me, within me, or in meeting you, is the most fascinating exploration of all – never really knowing what might pop up, and in constant wonderment, rather than the fear of “bad traits”, of jealousy and greed, of stingyness and weakness. No. I don’t fear myself anymore, the light and the shadow both are welcome. More than welcome even, greatly anticipated! Jumping up and down on the spot, eagerly awaiting the coming of what-ever-may-be, like a small child waiting for a favorite uncle. Ready to face it, come what may. Thrills and lows alike, warmly embraced and faced.

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 18 of 100.
The book “Rising strong” by Brené Brown.
English posts here, Swedish at

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