exploration

Writing

Writing

August 24, 2020
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Third day in a row.
Sitting in bed, iPad in my lap, leaning against the headboard, supported by pillows.
Writing.

Oh!
At long last, getting back to this lovely routine.
Waking up, getting out of bed to go pee, and then sneak downstairs, fetching my iPad, before heading back under the covers. Setting myself up for a few minutes, half an hour, an hour, of writing.
Writing.

Writing, intentionally, a deep-dive into a topic (or rather, into an exploration within), a strong enough Why to get me to commit, to take action, to Do in order to match who I want to Be. An exploration I am, for now, keeping to myself, or at least, to a small group of people. Figuring things out, discovering, uncovering, not wanting to publish, as this specific baby is far from ready to meet the world. Perhaps it will be. One day. Perhaps it never will be. Ever. Regardless, it feels very good to be writing.
Writing.

And as always (often?), when I start to write, more wants to be written. It’s as if I open the faucet, and out it comes. Like this. Writings related to the experience of writing, or other; experiences, urges and insights, all of a sudden start to flow, wanting to come out, wanting to be written.
Writing.


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

August 21, 2020
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There’s so much on the inside, that I am not really getting out. Not on paper, not in conversation, not even in my internal dialogues with myself. Not in any way/shape/form I want to.

A tad frustrating.
But only for short moments.
Most often, I simply acknowledge it, allow it to be, and figure…
what comes out, comes out. What stays inside, stays inside.

In conversations, I get to try my thoughts out, practice speaking them out loud, trying to get unformed, unfinished thoughts to make their way outside of me, observing what happens within when I do. Being mirrored by those I am in communion with is like a rollercoaster ride. I get to listen (!) as they let my newly formed words move into them, twisting and turning, opening hearts and minds with any luck, and, if there’s resonance, voice something back to me, giving me a shot at the rollercoaster.

Sometimes, my mind takes a giant leap, far away from what I voiced minutes before.
Sometimes, I am brought much closer, strengthening my understanding, transforming those unfinished thoughts into more solid, tangible ones.
Sometimes, having me step an inch into the unknown, I come upon a somewhat new flavor, making me shift slightly from what it previously was, giving me an opportunity to taste my thoughts anew, new and fresh unformed, unfinished thoughts within.

There are blog posts I imagine myself writing.
Stories to tell. Insights to share.
Pod episodes and book reflections to flesh out on paper, publishing in the hope, the desire, for someone to share in the exploration.

And then.
Those depths within, as yet unexplored.
Deep, deep ones.
Cold. Dark.
Void of company.
I know it.
I need to go there.
I need to. Want to. Must!
For me. Not for anyone else, but for me. I want to, because I know (Know) this is what’s next in line, I am to take these depths on.
But how do I start?
When? Where? How, do I give myself permission to just dive in?

I sense how this, the discovery –the exploration– of these depths, acts as a plug. Unless attended to, they are keeping all of the rest of what’s on the inside trapped there, within, where nothing can get out, nothing can squeeze past. They are blocking the way.

Time has come.
Permission granted:
Dive in.


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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Approaching the event horizon from the unknown

February 25, 2020
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There’s that blank stare… from me. Looking out. At nothing. Past everything, into the void beyond, the unknown, into the depths of that which contains multitudes…. but it’s as if I simply cannot see. As if I am blind. As if I am unhooked, uncoupled, unconnected. A single entity floating around in space, all alone, with nothing to latch onto.

What to write about?

Writer’s block doesn’t exist.

Nah.
True.

And yet… sometimes I have to prompt myself with precisely what I do now. Not knowing what to write, having no clear sense of purpose, no ideas popping, eagerly awaiting being put down on paper… so I just start typing. Seeing what comes out.

Sometimes utter rubbish.
Sometimes surprising myself, with content or form.
Sometimes publishing it.
Sometimes not.

But many times, just the simple fact of putting pen to paper (finger to keyboard. I have to come up with a more poetic and beautiful analogy to the pen to paper-one, can you help?) eases me out of that void, into the world of the living, pulling me back from the depths of despair (slight exaggeration, but it’s a lovely alliteration!) and having me stumble onto the event horizon, from the other way, as it were. Normally I come onto it from the known, slowly, gently, softly, inch by inch getting closer to it. Not so now. Now, it’s more as if I am hurled around in space, and there it is, the event horizon, the semblance of things I do no visible beyond the edge, I’d better grab a hold of it. Tossing out my arm, making contact with the event horizon, getting my breath beaten out of me from the impact.

There.
Breathing. Gently. In. Out. In. Out.

Coming from that place, the unknown, the void within (without?), the event horizon has a surprisingly solid feel to it, in contrast to when I ease onto it from the known.

Shifting perspectives (and this is what #tankespjärn is for me) provides that opportunity.
Opening up for an exploration of new vistas, new experiences, new possibilities.

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Wholeheartedness – Reflection February ’17 

February 1, 2017
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A month of having wholeheartedness as my intention for the year.
staying togetherA month of breakthroughs.
Where me and my husband have made a decision to stay together while continuing to live apart.

Where I have seen patterns of old, patterns that no longer serve me or anyone around me for that matter. And just seeing patterns like this, means they start to fall apart, no longer the easiest route for my system to revert to when triggered. The path no longer represents the automatic and unconcious way ahead.

Where I see how easy it is for me to say Yes. To be open to opportunity, to possibility. Saying Yes, and learning new things. And yet. Also cramming my schedule. Knowing I can fit it all in, deliver the goods…. with the cost of putting myself on the backburner. As a solopreneur, once in a while this is a wise move. Given one thing: that I take extra care of myself these upcoming months, ensure I stick to my daily rituals, that so vitalize me, makes me nourish connections and be aware of the contribution I am bringing to the world.

A month of deep inner discovery and exploration. Of expansion. This word that so lights me up. It’s like a balloon for me – filling with gas, rising higher and higher. Seeing more, encompassing more, taking in more. And at the same time, not just having focus on the “more”, but also revelling in all that is. The mix of the new and the old, that which has been within me for a long time, and that which is new. In fertile soil, new things sprout from the collisions of new and old, growth results, and I, I am walking around in my internal garden, like a happy gardener, tending, caring for, watering and weeding, as needed.

A month that makes me grateful for being alive. For living and breathing. Wholeheartedly.

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