Monthly Archives May 2020

Not right now

Not right now

May 31, 2020
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Again, I find myself with so much that wants to come out, and yet… no energy to make it take form.
There’s so much happening in the world today, so much horror and violence, injustice and upheaval, and I haven’t got the wherewithal to comment on it, and definitely not try to make sense of it, something which I am not sure is even possible.

At the same time, there’s an equal amount going on inside myself today, so many thoughts and reflections, insights and observations, and the same is true here. I haven’t got the wherewithal to get it onto paper, to have it laid out in front of me, even though I know, doing just that, is usually very helpful to me.

But I am not resourced enough right now, to do it.
However much it is usually helpful, right now is not the time.

So I let myself be. Not having to do.
Not right now.


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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How to make three new garden beds in an afternoon.

May 30, 2020
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Take:
1 part Mr D (offering to buy pallet rims on his way over, to help me work the garden for a few hours)
3 home-delivered pallet rims (courtesy of already-mentioned Mr D)
1 weed whacker (borrowed from the neighbors)
1 shovel (to even the soil so the beds are somewhat level)
1 big cardboard box and a handful of newspapers (to line the bottom of the new beds)
1 watering can (a) 2-3 cans per bed to wet the cardboard/newspapers; b) 1-2 cans/bed with everything in place)
3 bags of cow dung (one/bed)
1 big barrel of Bokashi-compost (ripening for the past 2 years; equal parts/bed)
3 bags of soil (one/bed)
1 Helena (while Mr D built a compost corner!)

Voilá!
Tomorrow they just might be put to use!

(And yeah. One of these days, the fence to the –other– neighbors needs to be replaced. Tell me something else I don’t know…)

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she’s a beauty

May 29, 2020
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It’s been a day, that’s for sure.

So imagine my thrill at coming home, only to find this beauty inviting me into the garden.
To relax. To ground myself.
Water the garden beds.
Putting soil on the potato mounds.
Digging up a few Lady’s mantle (Alchemilla vulgaris) going all wild and crazy, potting them for future use somewhere else.

One hour.
Of Being.
Just Being.

she’s a beauty

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I am not unloved.

May 28, 2020
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What if I never get to wake next to a loved one again?, I wrote, only to wake up, a few days later, to this:

So no.
I am not alone.
I am not unloved.
I am simply not walking next to someone on a daily basis
Am not waking up next to someone on a daily basis either.
Except now and then, when Pop the cat obliges me…

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From flood to ebb?

May 27, 2020
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Perhaps, my at least 10k in my body a day-urge is receeding?
Last week, I had four days of only doing a 3K walk, a slow one, Saturday afternoon, because I felt like it. Thursday, Friday, Sunday, I basically didn’t leave the premises.

Just. Didn’t. Wan’t. To.

Monday, biking to and fro work, I got 13+K by bike.
Tuesday, biking to and fro work, with a visit to the ocean and holding a webinar at a friends house, 22K, again by bike.

But today, I was picked up in the early morning, spent the day at the factory (current building project of mine), and then got a lift back home again. Debated going for a walk upon arriving home, but opted for 50 minutes of gardening instead. Now, I have guitar lesson in 20 minutes, which I will take my bike to, but it’s basically less than 1K away.

And I feel fine.
It feels good.

Perhaps, the flood that’s been this very visceral urge in me, for the past year or so, is receeding into ebb?
Perhaps, it’s just a minor bump in the road, and come next week, I will be hot on the wheels again, aching, longing, yearning to move, move, and move some more?

Whatever will be, will be.
Today as well.


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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Feel the water

May 26, 2020
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Bike to the ocean.
Sit down on the bench close to the pier.
Undress. Slowly.

Pull out the sarong from my backpack, the sarong that’s always and already there, in case I feel like taking a cold bath – which, I am happy to report, it still qualifies as (my personal limit is below 14 degrees C).

Put away my phone and my glasses, use a scrunchie to gather up my hair in a bun, and walk towards the stairs, down into the water.

Sun is shining.
Hardly any wind.

Step by step, not fast, not slow, just an even pace, I walk down the stairs into the water. Face the sun and start to swim, all the while counting. Upon hitting 300 I turn around and start to swim back to the pier, but when I reach it, I stay in more. Longer. Don’t want to get out. Not yet. Haven’t had enough.

Turn to face the sun again, and with every cell of my body, every fibre of my being, I feel the water slowly lapping against my chest.

Continuing to count, I take another shorter swim, before I finally, upon hitting 800, get out of the water, realizing it’s about time to head on off to my friend for the Q&A I was to moderate an hour later.

14 minutes. Give or take.
15 degrees in the air.
11,5 in the water (I have my sources).

There’s nothing quite like it.

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What if I never…

May 25, 2020
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What if I never…
find – or am found by – that ”special someone” that I long for?
get to fall in love, deeply, crazily in love, again?
find – or am found by – someone who can see me, feel me, hold me? All of me.
get to wake next to a loved one again?
find – or am found by – one who will walk beside me?
get to experience another long relationship, where we grow to know and love each other deeper and deeper?

Who knows?
I do believe, though.
That I will.

But rest assured.
I know this ”special someone” will not meet my every need.
That’s my job, to ensure I have my needs met.
It’s my job, to parcel them out, wisely.
Myself. Best friends, Mastermind-group, coach, family and friends, Buddhas and soul sisters, colleagues and co-workers, collaborators and co-creators. Assignments and workshops, books and podcasts, dance class and gardening. There are many people and arenas that help me meet varying needs.

But now and again…
As I watch some romantic tear-jerking movie, physical longing tugs at my heartstrings, so bad it hurts.
Physically, it hurts. Within.
The longing. Some day, some time.

I believe.
I will.

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Open.

May 24, 2020
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Open.
To receive. To give.
Both actions require openness.
Otherwise nothing can come in; nothing can get out.

If I am not open to receiving, I am not open to giving either.

Being open is my default-state. And yet… I am not always open.
Sometimes I shut down, close up, not having enough energy to give, nor receive.
Both actions require energy.

It takes discernment and self-knowledge to know,
when it is time to shut the aperture, restricting intake as well as output.


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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The nudges of inner wisdom

May 23, 2020
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Woke up Thursday morning with a strong urge to stay put. To not make sure I got my normal daily ten kilometers in my body. To not step one foot outside of my property. I just didn’t want to leave.

Now.

This isn’t unheard of, sometimes I get into a reading marathon and simply stay at home… but I don’t think I ever actually felt such a strong sensation, telling me, whispering to me, to stay put.

So I did.
Had lunch in the garden and then spent hours out there.
Reading. Weeding. Reading some more. Repotting plants and seedlings. Reading some more.
Just being.

The day after I had the same sense, but went by car with Mr D to fetch some soil for the garden. Much needed and a good little excursion. One that definitely didn’t make me get any 10K in me. 

And today, I had the same sense… until it was four o’clock when, all of a sudden, I wanted to go for a slow barefoot walk.
So I did.

Listening within.
Hearing the nudges of inner wisdom.
Telling me to slow down. Let go. Just be.

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With or against the natural flow of things?

May 22, 2020
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Thinking about the difference between working hard versus efforting, I am reminded of a story about surfing that I first heard Michael Neill share at Supercoach Academy in 2014.

Doing hard work, going deep within, giving it ones all and showing up, is similar to what a skilled surfer does. She paddles out to sea, spots a wave coming in, positions the board and starts to paddle like craaaaazy, in order to be at the right spot at the right time, ready to go with the flow, be lifted by the wave, using all the energy the universe is throwing at her to move forward.

Paddling out to sea requires a lot of energy, paddling to be in position for the wave does too, and even riding that wave and keeping her balance requires energy. But it’s all in the flow of what is already and always there, underneath, above, below, in front…

Now. Imagine this surfer trying to work a g a i n s t the flow of the water. Paddling in the opposite direction when the wave is coming. Now that would be efforting, or trying too hard, or, phrasing it differently, not working with what is already there. Working against it, rather than using it to be lifted high on top of that wave crest.

Trying too hard – efforting – has me working against nature, against that which wants to help me, to assist me, to have me spot the flow of things.

That’s one way to spot the difference between working hard versus efforting. There is, always and already, a natural flow of energy in everything. And life can be hard enough, without me going against the natural flow of things. So I try not to.


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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