gift

Gifting me a morning ritual

Gifting me a morning ritual

October 13, 2020
/ / /

The bottom line:
Building a morning routine, where I feel thrown off my game when time does not allow for it to run its course in full, and realizing that this morning routine, or perhaps even ritual, is a gift. A Gift. To me.

Getting thrown off my new morning routine where I wake up, of my own volition, at six am. Get up, pee, go downstairs to fetch phone and iPad, standing in the kitchen doing a slow morning Seven of pelvic movements, waiting for the kettle to boil while checking my email and doing a quick scan of SoMe (now that the ayurvedic challenge is over, no more morning videos to peruse). Armed with electronic (writing) devices, a cup of warm water, I head upstairs, doing my Wim Hof breathing regime (normally in bed, today I lay down on the floor, pulling the duvet off the bed, to keep me warm), before climbing back into bed, to do my morning writing while drinking the warmed up water.

Once I’ve posted my writings, somewhere or other, I head for the basement bathroom, do my regular morning Seven (lately, a lot of Lindy hop-practices, which is akin to cardio, let me tell you) before jumping into a two minute-cold shower, before getting dressed, ready to meet the world.

By this time, it’s nine o’clock, give or take, and I realize how anything scheduled by me before nine throws me off my game. Off my writing game, to be precise, because the other things I do, regardless. Not necessarily in the order described above, but more or less.

Yesterday I’d scheduled a CoachTalk at 7:15 am, and then the day simply rolled on… never granting me (me never granting me, that is!) the time and space to sit down and do my (deep dive) writing. And somehow the entire day feels slightly off.

Yesterday, I had a Zoom-call scheduled at nine am, in conjunction with the Bonnie Bliss Yoni Club-training I’m taking online right now, and I got into sharing something I will be writing about in my deep dive, so in a sense, I got ”it” out of my system, but… it’s still not the same.

There’s something to the writing that provides both an edge (the permanence of it? The shareability of it? The way my words take on a life of their own? The dance with fear at being rejected, shamed and shunned for writing what I am writing?) and an expanded opportunity for learning. When I write, I explore. It truly is a deep dive, regardless if I am deep diving into a topic (shame) as I am at the moment, of if it’s ”just” writing because I want to, because I blog daily (No. Not at the moment. Unless the sharing in a small online-community can be called blogging, which, in a sense, it actually can.), because it’s a habit I’ve gotten accustomed to.

The way I write, I learn.
About me. About you. About the world.
There is discovery and surprise, there is exploration and aha-moments, there are connections made visible that have previously eluded me, there are new questions arising.

Waking up today, I realized… I need to stop giving away my mornings to others. I want to give them to me. I want to honor the precious opportunity they are to me, and be much more deliberate in when I schedule something else during this time. Sometimes, it’s a necessity. I have clients requiring my presence at certain times. I have commitments to others giving me an opportunity to prioritize, making me truly look at how I spend –and value!– my time. But if I am to give my mornings away, it’s going to be for very good reasons.

Because I haven’t, ever honestly, been so aware of the need to value my time, as I was today, waking, and realizing how my entire system longed for my morning routine, the very same one I did not gift myself with yesterday.


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

A sensory gateway to feeling

October 9, 2020
/ / /

The bottom line:
Letting my inner child come out and play, reveling in the experiences she presents me with. What a gift!

Having stayed indoors for a couple of days, recuperating from a head cold, when I’d finished my GoT-poncho and the sun was shining… I donned said poncho and headed out. I live just across the street from a lovely recreational area, which is a place I love walking in. (To the extent that I call it my office, given the fact that I do CoachWalks with clients there.)

Wanted a few more photos of the poncho, so I played around with the timer on my iPhone camera, finding a bench where I could –with a bit of luck– prop my phone up to snap a few.

Kept walking, reveling in the crisp air, the smell of fall, the colors of summer leaving, the moist grass and the rough texture of the gravel. Because even though I wore a coat, and my poncho, I’d opted for barefoot. Wanting to maximize it, taking every chance I get, and honestly, it’s not until the temperatures drop close to freezing that it starts to get somewhat painful to walk barefoot.

Came across a young couple with a toddler of maybe one and a half years. No more. Possibly slightly less. The little one was all donned in rain gear (yes, sun shining brightly a n d the occasional drop of rain) with sturdy waterproof boots, exploring the pools of water on the graveled path. Looked at me, step-step-stepping in a puddle, and I smiled. Walked a few steps, coming across another puddle, so I stepped in it, turning towards the toddler, and step-step-stepped in the pool of water, loving the feel of the water splashing about my bare feet. I looked at the child and smiled, with eyes and mouth. The toddler looked at me, eyes opening wide in surprise, taking in the fact that here was this big person, with bare feet, step-step-stepping in a puddle. Looking at dad, he/she was reassured by dad who said Yes, she’s doing the same thing you are!, winking towards me.

I bade them farewell with a nod and yet another smile and went my way, only to step in a patch of grass-turned-to-squishy-mud along the side of the path, having the mud squeeze its way most deliciously up in-between my toes, looking down at my muddied feet, laughing. At life. At sensations. At sunshine and rain. At freedom, of expression, of exploration, of norm. Bare feet giving me a very visceral anchor, in direct contact with my surroundings, a sensory gateway to f e e l i n g. There’s nothing quite like it!

 


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

Obvious to you. Amazing to others.

June 19, 2020
/ / /

Here’s a gift.
To all of you.
Each and every one of you.

It’s a gift I so hope you are open to receive, because it will make the biggest of difference, if you are.
You see, what is obvious to you, is nothing short of amazing to others.

And I know you might not believe me. You might not even k n o w what is obvious to you, because it is just that. Obvious. We have a tendency to not notice those things that are obvious.

So.
Here goes:


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

The only thing that’s needed.

April 13, 2020
/ / /

…empty.

That’s me.
Right now.

Started writing something or other… frowned my nose. Deleted it.
Wrote a caption… and deleted that as well.

And you know what?
Once in a while, perhaps silence is the only thing that’s needed?
So I gift silence. To me. To you.

Read More

The reading retreat.

April 6, 2020
/ / /

Writing retreats, I’ve done. Alone. Together.
A day, two, three.

But never an official reading retreat.

One could argue I’ve been doing reading retreats ever since I learned how to read, because, to quote my mom, once I did I never stopped. Countless weekends I’ve spent immersed in great novels; laying away many a night, reading, totally engrossed in a story, making me experience life as a Viking slave, an Egyptian princess, a Vietnamese poet, a cave-woman, or explore the vast skies astride a flying dragon in some magical universe, similar and yet so different to my own.

But thanks to a The Creative’s Workshop-colleague writing about wanting to take time to read, I suggested she do a reading retreat, and all of a sudden, we had a date, going from idea to fruition in the space of three days. 90 minutes, over Zoom, all in all, four people, even though two sort of played a relay-game with each other, with one leaving as another entered the room. The Zoom-room.

…to be, without the intent to talk I said when we checked in prior to one reader leaving for another meetup. I’ve done many a type of meeting online, but never, truly, one where the intention was not to talk, but to be, and to read.

And I loved it.

As we shared half-time my co-creator was reminded of a quote by Lynda Barry, who has said about art-making that it’s this thing that we do alone together.

And I loved it. Alone. Together.
It felt so good. You know, like sitting in a room with a best friend, in total silence, and absolute companionship, doing whatever one pleases, but together? That’s what it felt like.

A gift.
One I want more of.

Would you like to join me sometime?

Read More

The gift of coaching

March 17, 2020
/ / /

This morning started with me getting a gift, the gift of coaching a wise woman, assisting her in finding insight and just-do-it-determination.

But… isn’t the gift hers then?

Well. Yes. That too.

But what I find true in most coaching sessions I do (when they are done… hm. How can I phrase this? When it makes sense for me to coach said person, when it’s truly a mutual agreement, and when there is absolutely no sense of me doing it just to be kind. Those coaching sessions!) is that they are truly a gift for me as well. I am reminded of my own wisdom, I am inspired by my client’s journey, and their struggles and bumps-in-the-road help me shine a light on similar aspects in my own life.

The synchronicity is palpable and that’s another signal that we are a good match. When what my clients are working on is a different shade of grey perchance, but still, close enough to my shade at the moment, I am kept on my toes. I do my utmost to keep just ahead of my client, in order to serve to the last drop of my capacity, knowing that at anytime my client will leap ahead of me, having me stretch farther, giving it my all to catch up and just, barely, pass them by again.

It means I do the work, and they do the work, and when we meet up, there are synergies, even though, don’t get me wrong, while I am coaching, I coach. I am fully present with my client and they are in the driver’s seat. My agenda, my needs, do not take center stage. But whatever I am working on at the moment is there. It’s present, and that presence is, to my experience, of service to the process.

(And I know coaches are not supposed to admit this. But hey. Perhaps that’s why I am not interested in having clients who are “way behind me” [don’t get me wrong here! There’s no judgment to this, just discernment on my part.] but rather those that are but a step behind me, helping me keep sharp and at my best. I would not have thought of this without these two questions coming from coach Dave: Who can I coach? And who do I want to coach? Great questions those!)

Read More

Advent Calendar 19 – Boost!

December 19, 2018
/ / /

In my Mastermind-group every second or third meeting we round off with a boost session, and I love it. Each person has their moment in the spotlight, with the rest of us taking turns appreciating the person in the hot seat. We’ve been going at Masterminding for 6 full years by now, and I’ve gotten good at both aspects – the giving as well as the receiving.

I know giving boost to someone is an act that might scare people. Others might be scared at receiving it.

But scary?
Well. I would challenge that, and say that it’s really about not being used to it. Because there’s nothing to fear. There’s no danger in it. And the more I practice, the better I get. With that, comes the lessened sense of feeling scared…

The gift of a boost can also be lessened by trying to reciprocate in the moment. If I am told Oh Helena, I love the way your mind works, it gives me new perspectives, and say, wholeheartedly, Thank you, really letting the boost land, sink in, reverberate within, the gift of the boost has been fully acknowledged. If, instead, perhaps I say Oh, well, thanks, but you give me new perspectives too, it’s almost as if I belittle the gift. As if I cannot receive without reciprocating in kind – which has the negative side-effect of people not really knowing if I truly mean what I say, or not.

Giving. Receiving.
Acts of kindness, both, whether or not it concerns boosts, or other things.
If one or the other makes you feel a but uncomfortable – practice. Give if you don’t really know how to. Receive if that makes you cringe. Because… when I give, someone else gets to receive. And when I receive, someone else gets to give.


Advent Calendar 2018 – number 19 of 24 – on the theme of being gentle.

Read More

A gift? Or a present?

November 28, 2018
/ / /

53. What do you want to gift to the world? #teachingoftheday on gifting, and on creating things that matter to you. I think we need to rethink our concept of gifts, just as we need to adjust our expectations of the receivers of gifts.

Publicerat av Caspian Almerud Onsdag 28 november 2018

I listen to Caspian in #teachingoftheday number 53: What do you want to gift to the world?

#teachingoftheday on gifting, and on creating things that matter to you. I think we need to rethink our concept of gifts, just as we need to adjust our expectations of the receivers of gifts.

I listen. And agree. Perhaps not so surprising, as I gifted him (twice!) It’s you turn by Seth Godin, (a book I in turn have been gifted by Seth himself!) that gave him these thoughts. I am onboard, completely, having thought a lot about that which I gift to the world.

But. When Caspian differentiates between gifts and presents (from 5:20 onwards), my mind started to spin.

He says Of course there is a difference between gifts and presents, I am aware of that.

And immediately my mind went Really? Is there? Isn’t a gift a present? Isn’t a present a gift? Is there an obvious difference between these two words? 

This fascinates me; how all of a sudden my mind opened to seeing a connection (or perhaps a dissonance?) that I’ve never picked up on before. The words gift and present are words I’ve used hundreds or thousands of times. And I have never ever put them next to each other, comparing them, in a sense I’ve never really looked at them. It’s as if I right now, am tasting these two words for the very first time.

 

 

Read More

Avoiding war, just to fall into a trap!

April 18, 2016
/ / /

Had another wonderful conversation with D. At the end if it, he gave me a gift, that opened up for a new insight in me.

The insight was this:armed
I have gotten to know myself so well by now, that when I am upset about whatever, while in a low state of mind, I don’t want to drag other people into my personal hell with me. So I (try as best as I can to) refrain from picking fights, withstand the urge to arm my self and to lash out, or at least, only to lash out while keeping myself under a tight leash to minimize the damage I do when cracking my whip. So I hide away, find some solitude, curl up all alone, and weather the internal storm without letting on what’s going on.

When the storm passes, and I move into a higher state of mind, I no longer feel the need to communicate whatever it was that had me upset in the first place. I don’t see the point to it. So I keep quiet. Even though my loved ones know I’ve been to hell and back – that’s apparent. They sense what I’ve been through, just as I sense it when they go through something similar. Without knowing the specifics. Without grasping possible insights or reflections that comes from it.

And that was the gift. Understanding that my burning desire to avoid going to war with someone important to me, had me fall into another trap! The trap of shutting them out when I don’t share my experiences once I’m in a higher state of mind. My loved ones don’t have a clue as to what I went through on the journey. If I don’t let them in, if I avoid to share my hardships with them, I effectively stop them from empathizing with me, from sharing my journey. And that can, in a sense, be as damaging as outright fighting can be. And I never knew. I just never thought about it this way.

But I see now, that in my efforts to shelter my loved ones from vitriolic words and emotions – anger, resentment, disgust, frustration, pain, annoyance – I’ve gone a step to far. I am happy I have learned to minimize the amount of vitriolic words and emotions that I expose my surroundings to, and that is something I will keep on working on, but… But!

I will start to share my experiences, once I am out of the rabbit hole, to open up for conversation, understanding, connection and deepening relationships. I will try to share, in such a way that I don’t pass the responsibility for my experiences onto anyone else, try my very best to communicate that I take full responsibility for me and my experiences, while at the same time, letting those near me in. Letting my loved ones come close. Closer. Not push them away, by enclosing myself behind a high and thick wall, not shove my loved ones away, out of a fear of hurting them.

The strategy I’ve been applying for the past few years is not optimal. I knew this. I know this. I feel it and have done for quite some time. I just never knew what it was that wasn’t all there. And now I do. Thanks to D. As so often in our conversations, he presented me with a gift, and I received it. Opened it. Listened within to what arose from hearing his thoughts spoken out load. Letting the insight wash over me. And expanded.

Read More