#blogg100 – Learning by doing.

#blogg100 – Learning by doing.

May 1, 2017
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Parents tao te chingSitting in the most serene and relaxing surroundings, ensconced on a day bed in the light filled relax room at the Ystad Salt Creek Spa, I pick up one of the books I brought with me. The parents Tao Te Ching, by William Martin. I’m at the spa, together with my eldest child, and am finally at exactly the right time and place for this book. And is it ever just right. The beauty. Simplicity. Gentle nudgings, in the form of questions or statements, making me nod, cringe, smile, rue past behavior, happily bring to mind moments of great connection… all of which is a part of my parenting. That, and so much more.

”Mature adults don’t necessarily create children, but children help create mature adults.” 

For me it is definitely due to my children that I have grown into the person I am today. Parenting, hard, tricky, filled with trap doors and hidden fears, made me go into therapy, ages ago. And since then, it’s been a wonderful journey, walking the way of life (which, incidentally is one way to translate Tao). High’s and low’s abound, as well as shallow middle ground, getting through the days, one after the other.

”Making babies – having children – is a capacity bestowed by biology, but raising them well is an art we learn by doing.”

I for one am definitely still in the learning by doing-phase of parenting, that’s for certain.

#Blogg100 challenge in 2017 – post number 62 of 100.
The book “The parents Tao Te Ching” by William Martin.
English posts here, Swedish at

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Being gentle to me – Reflection January ’17

January 25, 2017
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After a full year of monthly reflections on what it means, for me, to be gentle towards myself, you might think this is a topic that I’ve exhausted. That I’ve written what’s possible for me to write about. But far from it. I am, constantly, observing that I am being gentle towards myself, in situations where it greatly gladdens me, instances where I know – and I do mean Know – that in the past I would not have been able to chose gentleness, if nothing else than for the reason that I simply did not know it was an option!

Choosing to be gentle towards myself is becoming second nature. It is something that comes first, almost always, nowadays, and from that I conclude that I have practiced the art of being gentle for long enough, so it no longer takes as much effort to choose the path of gentleness, as compared to when I first realized that it was, indeed, a viable option for me – and anyone! – to choose.

I normally say the first big insight that it was even an option, was when I did not bring cash to pay my therapist, some 10-11 years ago. I was ashamed, and wildly kicking myself verbally, and she was astonished that I was so hard on myself. She told me what she’d done if the situation had been reversed, and my jaw fell. I simply could not believe it was an option not to beat myself up internally for having done such a low thing.

But as I sit here and look back at my journey of discovery into the world of gentleness, I spot the birth of my first child as one of those moments, when I was given the choice – by the midwife – to be more gentle to myself. Under slightly unusual circumstances – as me and my then-husband had separated and filed for divorce just a few weeks prior to the birth of our child – I was accompanied by two friends, while giving birth.

When we got to the hospital, I got into a warm bath, and after a while, the midwife looked at me and more or less gave me permission to keep my focus on me, rather than on the comfort of my friends. I was conversing them, staying cheerful and positive, all the while having contractions that hurt like hell… The midwife looked at me, and calmly said You don’t have to entertain your friends. They can take care of themselves. You conserve your energy. You will need it later.

And now, as I reflect back on that moment, I see what I chose then, as I did heed the experienced midwife’s words, was to be gentle to myself. To let myself off the hook to be a gracious “hostess” to my two friends. To truly see that they were there for me, because I had asked them, because I had a need for their strength. In that moment, they were there solely for me and my unborn child. Not the other way around. comfortable spotAnd that was ok. I could let myself off the hook, and relax into being supported, fully, without having to reciprocate, in that time and space. That there would be a time for me to be there, fully, for them. But that would not be the moment of birth of my firstborn. That’s for sure.

Funny that… How I have these recollections of specific moments when I discovered that being gentle to myself was a choice I could make. That there was a choice, and that gentleness was one of the options open to me. As a result, it’s much easier for me to love myself, to like myself, and to enjoy the daily exploration of Life. The life I lead from the place of being gentle to me, is a ridiculously comfortable spot to live from, as compared to my life while being harsh on myself (oh, so harsh!).

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Doing gentle – 11 – Play!

March 27, 2016
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Play. Oh how I have resisted this. Taken myself so seriously. The pain I’ve inflicted upon myself, telling myself it’s important to be right, vital not to appear silly, crucial to be well-poised and serious. Pain. Yes. I use that word. Because it’s been painful. The loss of face can hurt a lot, when the concept of face has been blown out of all proportions in my inner dialogue. When I’ve created a narrative around myself, that being playful, silly, happy and lighthearted is wrong. Bad. A sign of a weak character. Unworthy. And so on…

Guess what?play
I have started to practice to play. To experiment with it. With me.

And it’s gotten to the point, where I am quite good at playing mentally. In my mind, with my thoughts. I’ve learned not to take my thoughts so seriously, not putting so much weight on them. But physically…. that’s harder for me. I’ve kept myself under such a tight regime, not allowing my body to express playfulness, silliness, happiness.

What if I let the little child within out? Allowing, no, more than that, inviting her to come out and play? When I do, I feel silly. Self-conscious, oh so self-conscious. Thinking everybody is looking at me, pointing fingers, laughing at how silly I am. Sometimes it helps knowing that everybody else has the same thoughts. Or at least, a huge majority does. But why should I let this stop me? How does that serve me?

What if, we all stopped taking ourselves so seriously? What if, we lived life, as if life is a playground instead? A place to play, experiment, have fun, be silly, laugh until we wet our pants, and expand as human beings?

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

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