morning ritual

FOMO running wild!

FOMO running wild!

November 24, 2020
/ / /

Speeding up, internally, overcommitting, FOMO running wild, efficient in the way only I know how, zooming from meeting to meeting indeed, on Zoom), not even giving myself the pleasure of a sunshine-filled walk midday.

Breathe, Helena, breathe.
And let go.
Release your foot from the gas pedal, there’s enough energy in the system to get quite far without you putting any more gas into it. Get your priorities in order, ticking ToDo’s off one by one (the only way to do them, one by one, bird by bird), and… oh. Yes. Saying No does not mean you will not be considered next time, does not mean you aren’t a valued participant of the community, does not mean any of the stuff the internal chattering ticker tape is trying to get you to believe.

Make sure you get the walks. The bike rides. The hour of puttering about in the garden, raking some leaves into a pile over here, cleaning some garden tools over there, checking the status of the horse manure/cow dung/saw dust-barrel, filled with what will be goodies for the soil come spring.

Make sure you get the fullness of the morning ritual. The movement, the Wim Hof breathing, the glass of by-now-luke-warm water, the writing (Oh, the writing! Treasure it, as it treasures you!), reading the daily entry in The Book of Awakening, and the cold shower. All of it vital, but more than that, all of it there for you. Gifts. All of them. Gifts that help you show up the way you want to show up in the world. Grounded. Filled with energy. Abel and capable. With a mischievous touch of tankespjärn to spice things up when needed.

But no.
These aren’t must’s.
They are want’s.
I want to get the walks, the bike ride, the gardening and the morning ritual. Add to that the reading, the community-building, the Buddhas-recordings, the therapy, the cooking for me and my children and sitting down to a meal together.

These are want’s that are important to me because with these I honor myself.
I honor who I am, who I have been, and who I will be.
Always and already.


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

Spider. With a message.

November 8, 2020
/ / /

After a long slow morning, going through every step of my morning ritual, the ritual that suddenly has come to be of such importance to me, I get out of bed, after writing and reading, with the intent to get up. For real. Not just to go boil a pot of water, not just to do a morning Seven of pelvic movements, not just to go pee, and then return to bed. I stop in front of my yoni-altar, somewhat lackadaisically created at the start of the three-month Yoni Club-program, kneeling on the sheepskin in front of it, picking up my box of oracle cards with messages from my animal guides.

Opening the box, I pull forth the little book, laying it to the side, as I bring forth the deck of cards, starting to shuffle them, holding my hands in front of my heart, breathing steadily. In. Shuffle. Out. Shuffle. In. Shuffle. Out. Shuffle. Making my hands go still, I part the deck of cards and look solemnly at an upside-down spider. I right the card, looking at it, laughing a bit inside, as it so looks like the spiders that mostly live in the basement of my house, but that a few weeks ago suddenly graced me with their living-room presence.

Trust the creative spark you’re feeling and express it through writing stories that inspire and enlighten

Having just written one entry in The Depth(s), the written part of the deep dive I am currently on, into shame, and one other story, for my anonymous blog, I nod to myself in recognition as I pick up the booklet and read on:

The pulse of creativity is especially strong right now, triggering a not unfamiliar and compelling desire to express yourself through creative writing. Whether or not the tales you weave are true, whether they’re based on actual experience or the imaginings of your fertile mind, each day sit yourself down and pour out the words that come to you. Don’t ponder each sentence or paragraph; just write whatever wants to be written through you.

Oh yes, this is precisely why my morning ritual has suddenly become so important to me. It is a time and place where by sitting down, words do come to me, through me, in a way that is harder to come by, if I don’t do it in the morning. It’s possible, but right now, the importance of honoring me by granting me time in the morning a l s o for writing, has become very clear.

To inspire and enlighten others, you don’t need a profoundly complex tale. Start by describing a personal experience, one where you gained some insight that may also be useful to others. However, don’t focus on how people will respond to your story; instead, just enjoy the process of writing without judging your work or yourself. Write to express–not to impress.

I’ve not let fear of how others will respond stop me from writing, but as I have shared some deeply personal and vulnerable writings, in a small close-knit community, fear has been a part of my deep-dive. Something I’ve worked through by writing about it. Not ignoring it. Not adhering to it. But acknowledging it, observing it, and letting the voice tinted with fear also speak through me, letting those words out on paper as well as the others.

In attempting to write, you may find yourself easily distracted, either with others’ needs for your time and attention or with those negative thoughts and beliefs that are the product of judgments and shame that you were subjected to during childhood. A powerful way to release these habitual and self-limiting thoughts and feelings is to write about them in story form. As you do so, don’t hold back anything. Through such a catharsis, you heal those words that had originally wounded you.

Shame.
Judgment.
This i s what my deep-dive centers on.
The basis for these thoughts and beliefs of mine formed during childhood, but it doesn’t stop there. I’ve been piling them on, one atop the other, my entire life; as are you, I’m imagining. I don’t know that we can stop ourselves from it, but it sure helps to gain awareness, and learn to breathe through, rather than get stuck in, it.

So no. I do not hold back. Nothing is held back, it’s all coming out, having me jump back and forth, no need to go about it chronologically. What comes comes, and in the reflections I get from the people I share with, I am helped along the way. Helped to go deeper. Helped by having my memory jogged, upturning stone after stone, hidden beneath the surface for a long time. Helped to make connections that have eluded me previously.


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

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

My morning ritual

January 9, 2017
/ / /

A new week. Looming ahead.
Meetings. MasterMind. Guitar class. Back to school after the holidays, for the kids. Assignments and cultural events. And me. Lest I forget…

The morning ritual.

Headspace. A bit of Good Life journaling.
The morning writings, which might turn into my daily blog post.
Seven with burpees. Green smoothie.

And then.
Ready to face the world.Good Life journalingWhat I’ve been doing in the mornings though, is to also check social media. Facebook. Messages. Instagram and TinyBeans. Playing a game or two, throwing my first poke-ball of the day.

I don’t want to do it that way anymore. I want to use my morning ritual as an internal cleanse, rather than as a way of getting showered by outside stimuli.

To focus and feel.
Get clear on what my day holds, what I want to bring to it, and how it all is connected to my wellbeing – to the well of my being.

So. From now on, my morning ritual will be more intentional, in alignment with my wish to give myself space. Space to explore. To discover. To cherish and love. Space to be, to let that which wants to come, come. A way to ensure I spend time making, creating, opening up to and revelling in: My good life!

Read More