Author Archives Helena Roth

What if I never…

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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100 days later…

May 21, 2020
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A celebratory hour in lieu of 100 dailies in The Creative’s Workshop. An hour in honor of the letter S, in the form of:
Sensational (work, engagement, cohort!)
Shift (what has been the shift?)
Stranger (who was your unexpected stranger and what did they give you?)
Shipping (What have you shipped and what has it meant to you/those you serve?)
Step (Next step? How to continue doing your work?)
Salute (100 dailies later!)

What was it like for you 100 days ago?
Less energy. More lethargy. Ready to step into the land of ”don’t know what”.

What has changed in 100 days?
Me!
Energized. Awed and wowed!
A tankespjärn-community launched. Friendships forged.
INSIGHTS & CLARITY!

Who was your unexpected stranger and what did they give you?
Mary Ellen Bratu and our Reading Retreats, a gift I will carry with me for life!

What have you shipped and what has it meant to you (and those you serve)?
My tankespjärn-community on Patreon. Taking baby-steps.
I’ve truly seen the generosity inherent to shipping.

What’s the next step? How will you continue doing the work?
One day at a time, generously sharing and shipping.

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Worthy of celebration

May 20, 2020
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100 dailies in a row. Done deal. And, for me, not a feat in and of itself. I do stuff like this. My go-to example is the fact that I did my 2103rd morning seven exercise routine in a row this morning. Now, writing is definitely different from exercising, but since January 23rd, 2013 when I started #blogg100, a 100 days of daily blog posts challenge, I have published 2450 posts. Now, granted, some days I have published more than one post, but not that often, if my memory serves me. January 23rd, 2013, until May 20th, 2020, is 2674 days in total. So, if no posts are published two a day, that leaves 224 days of no blog posts. But say I might have double-posted 100 days… or for the fun of it, let’s say that in these 7+ years, I’ve not blogged for a full year. That still leaves 6+ years of blogging.

But.
That’s. Not. The. Point.

The point is 100 days of absolutely rocking, amazing, expanding, tankespjärn-rich, generous, sensitive, full-on, mind-boggling, laugh-inducing and loving comments, interactions, relationship-building.

That’s what’s so friggin’ amazing about these 100 days of dailies, totally worthy of celebration and cheer!

I have laughed. Cried. Been confounded. Annoyed. Frustrated. Confused. Enriched. Curious to find out more. Impressed. In awe. Sad. Nervous. Perhaps even a touch of anger in there. But more than anything, I’ve been energized. In its totality, that’s the main takeaway I have from these 100 days of The Creative’s Workshop. I have gotten so much energy from it. And I know, I’ve contributed with mine as well. A regenerative community, if ever!

Even though the official part of the workshop – with the 100 dailies challenge accompanied by 31 prompts and a handful of bonus prompts – is coming to its end today, we students are granted access to the space for another 50 days. Luckily. As there is still so much more to do and be here. I have prompts as yet unresponded to, and I have a mind to start over and redo/revisit/tweak my responses to the prompts, not to mention all the connections I want to deepen while the opportunity exists.

But then, after, mid-July, when it is closed, finished, finito, I expect I will be all cheesecake out, in the very best of ways, ready to simply sit back down. Relax. Reflect. Remember. Revere. But not yet! There’s another 50 days to go first!

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Craving physical touch

May 19, 2020
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Stay away.

That’s what I need to do, even though it’s hard, and it hurts.
Emotionally. Tugs at my heartstrings it does, not daring to go visit my mother who has a birthday coming up towards the end of the week.

Instead of heading over to her for the weekend, I’ve organized a Zoom-party for us all to get together. Better than nothing, but definitely not as fun as it would be to celebrate in person. That’s one of the major insights I’ve gotten from the Corona-pandemic. How human beings – and most notably me – are very physical beings. We are social creatures, craving physical touch.

I miss hugs.
I miss touching people, on the arm, hand, back, leg, in conversation, in gentle banter, as a way to reinforce my message.
I miss high-five:ing people.

It’s never been more apparent to me, than right now.
I am a social creature, craving physical touch.
You?


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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I. Have. To. Write. About. It. Now.

May 18, 2020
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One of my 12 English books to read and blog about this year, is Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés. Normally, I never write about the book until it’s finished, which is when I write my book reflection. However, this book, which I am approximately 60% through, has certainly challenged me, as almost not a page goes by without me making copious notes in the margin and the number of dog ears is just ridiculous! I usually don’t mark pages with dog ears, but the best of the best of this book has me crying out for me to make it easily accessible in years to come, and alas, the book probably has 50 dog ears by now….

Anyway, as I was reading this book during my weekly Monday Reading Retreat, a paragraph jumped out at me, and I simply cannot hold it in anymore. I. Have. To. Write. About. It. Now.

”Creating one thing at a certain point in the river feeds those who come to the river, feeds creatures far downstream, yet others in the deep. Creativity is not a solitary movement. That is its power. Whatever is touched by it, whoever hears it, sees it, senses it, knows it, is fed. That is why beholding someone else’s creative word, image, idea, fills us up, inspires us to our own creative work. A single creative act has the potential to feed a continent. One creative act can cause a torrent to break through stone.”

This.
This is what The Creative’s Workshop is to me.
It feeds me.
There is so much creativity just whizzing and bouncing along in the workshop, it’s almost ridiculous, and it feeds me and my creativity to levels I’ve not experienced for many years.

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Insights that truly shake me to my core

May 17, 2020
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I haven’t gotten the text on the victim vs perpetrator-perspective in the bag yet. Did discuss it with some wise friends today, and… it will come. I won’t let it go. But it’s still not ready.

And then… I wrote another text last night, after having done three more prompts in The Creative’s Workshop. The prompts gave me an insight into two modes of mine, perform/deliver and discovery, and the text I wrote a few hours later was directly related to this.

You see, a while after finishing those prompts, I got such a massive insight into my own behaviors, into where I slide easily into discovery mode, and where I stick to perform/deliver as if it was a life-raft, even though it’s most likely dragging me down, rather than saving me.

And it’s gotten to be a habit – a routine? Or perhaps even a ritual? – to write in situations like this. When hit by insights that truly shake me to my core, putting fingers to keyboard helps me find, what it is I suddenly see. It’s a way for me to step fully through the door that the insight invites me into, which is the way I describe what tankespjärn is. So yes. Insights, for me, are most often tankespjärn of the highest quality!

This insight is personal. Deeply personal.
And I don’t know if it’s to be shared widely.
Not yet.

I have to digest it a bit, wrap myself (not my head. My self! Significant difference for a recovering head-footer-person, i.e. the head with feet attached that small children draw as their first attempt at humans, that I am.) around it, and just let it be.

I did share it with two of my absolutely closest compadres, directly. They are as close to me as my own skin, in many ways, and I know, there’s nothing but love and support to be gotten from them. And within minutes and hours, I had gotten just that, from both of them. Love. Support. And more love.

The process… now and again, there are variations to the general process of writing, and this is one of them. When it’s something that hits home, deeply affecting me, I need to make sure that I am not bleeding from any wounds, before sharing. If I am, the reader gets more than they should, and it’s not fair on them. It’s not for me to spread my hurts, wounds, sorrows, on others, widely.


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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A text that is not yet done.

May 16, 2020
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Started to write this long post on victim vs perpetrator given a recent case making the Swedish media, of a well-known man getting caught buying sex, which is illegal in Sweden.

But that text is not done.
Not ready to publish.
Perhaps I weaved too many threads into it, making it more of a mess than anything coherent?

I will let it be, for a day or two, revisiting it to see what it wants to become. What the message really is. For me. And perhaps, for you.

I think I will step outside instead, letting my bare feet meet ground, soil, grass, pebbles, twigs and sticks. Letting the wind blow my hair, the sun warm my skin, the smells remind me of springs of years gone by. Listening to bird-song and rustling leaves, feeling my own heartbeat, steadily ticking away, grounding myself. In life.


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