tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2900114590466406142024-03-10T20:22:35.092-07:00Tealights in the DarkUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger109125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-48004221256372176422023-07-14T03:20:00.003-07:002023-07-14T23:58:53.086-07:00On relationships and beauty<p> Ever since realizing I am, and subsequently coming out as, asexual my world has been flipped upside down. In the past months, I have been doing a ton of thinking, self reflection, and finding my feet again in a world that is so profoundly sexual in so many aspects of it. What is my place in this? How do I interact with sexual people without giving up my own identity nor looking like a bitch turning them all down? How to communicate my sexuality, or rather: the lack of it, to those not understanding my not jumping to the occasion when flirted with? How to explain my wearing flimsy bikini's, minidresses and my love for taking risky, although always tasteful, nude pictures? If not for sex, why am I enjoying that? So many questions. </p><p>Let's start with "why the sexy clothing/photo's if sex is not the goal". Well.. I happen to see a human body as something very beautiful. In SecondLife, I enjoy creating a beautiful avatar. Aesthetically pleasing, nice to look at.. however you want to word it. That includes dressing nice and, I suppose, sexy although I don't see it that way. In RL, I enjoy nude beaches and I have zero issues with being naked. Maybe exactly because.. I don't see the human body as something sexual. I wonder how that is for anyone who is not asexual. When you look at the Venus of Milo or Michelangelo's David.. is that a sexual thing? Or just an amazing piece of art? To me, it's always just an amazing piece of art, even if it's not a sculpture but an actual living human body. </p><p>At the same time, it does make me very uncomfortable if people do sexualize my body. It saddens me, if what I think is a beautiful (from an aesthetic viewpoint) body makes people go; "oooh, I would love to fuck THAT". Honestly, the need to rub genitals is alien to me. I do understand this need does exist in most of humanity. It does make me feel like a total outsider. An alien from a planet where sex is not a thing who somehow ended up here. </p><p>Which brings me to: what is my place in this, and how to interact with people. For many decades, I have tried to fit the norm of being a sexual being. Sex seems to be the glue that keeps most relationships alive. But it did mean that time and time again I allowed sex to happen. In my previous post I called it a bonding experience. I did it because they enjoyed it so much, and I derived joy from pleasing them. </p><p>But was that the whole truth? Looking deep down into those dark, scary corners of my mind.. I found that no, it's not the whole truth. I found that, at the root of it all, was a huge, and probably irrational fear of ending up all alone. Not wanted, not loved, because without sex, what's the point of staying friends with me. My analytical mind dated this tendency back to my early childhood where I had to somehow survive an abusive stepmother who didn't want a child in her life. And I managed to do so by becoming mostly invisible, making sure she found nothing in my behavior that would set off her rage. Standing up for myself was counterproductive, and I learned at a very young age not to do that. Instead, I became a people pleaser. </p><p>Later on in life I found a new term for it: submissive. Suddenly, it was no longer a coping mechanism from my early childhood. It was something kinky and a "mental wiring" of sorts that many people shared and enjoyed. I'll readily admit that I enjoyed the attention, the feeling of coming home in a community that seemed to completely understand my people pleasing nature. Where it wasn't a damaged spot in my psyche but a feature that was embraced. And I learned to embrace it, myself. </p><p>Once I got out of the, ultimately very physically but even moreso: emotionally abusive relationship with a dominant man that almost literally killed me, I suffered from PTSS and had to rebuild myself up from scratch. I had no self confidence, no clue who I was or what I wanted from life.. it was a journey, and I'm still far from finished with all the unraveling and replacing learned behavior with my authentic self. I have come a long way, though. </p><p>Far enough to know that it's not true that I am submissive. I can be, when interacting with a dominant person, because I enjoy the energy exchange. But I can just as easily be the dominant person in the exchange, all depending on the other person's energy and how we interact. And neither of the two extremes defines me. Also: neither of the two is sexual in nature. That energy flow those interactions generate is something I enjoy, but I'm just as happy having deep talks with an intelligent person, laughing until it hurts with someone extremely funny, or being in awe because of someone's creativity, to name just a few different flavors of energy that I enjoy equally. </p><p>Recently I had another one of my, very infrequent, sexual encounters online with someone I don't share a deep friendship with. For lack of a better word, they are a fuck buddy. Someone who probably would no longer be interested in me if sex was taken off the table. This person had been asking to "see" me for months on end, and I suspected they wanted sex, and I finally gave in. Again: to please them. Personally, I did my best to create a nice experience for them, and I ended up covered in pixel cum and them waxing lyrical about how they really wanted to see me more often. They had multiple orgasms in real life and asked me about mine. I had to confess that i did not have any, but "saved that for later". Too scared I guess to admit that "later" actually meant "not at all". The feeling was one of total emptiness. WHY was I even still doing this if I got nothing out of it. Yes, I enjoy writing and roleplay but.. is that enough to roleplay something that I personally just.. don't enjoy, at all? Is that fear of ending up without friends still running the show? Isn't it time to get past that, see who still wants to be around me, and fill my life with that type of people? </p><p>The thought of it fills me with fear. At the same time, I have had the Bene Gesserit "Litany against fear" from the Dune series pinned on my wall here for many years now, for a reason. </p><p><br /></p><dd style="background-color: #f8f0e5; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: rubik, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">"I must not fear.</dd><dd style="background-color: #f8f0e5; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: rubik, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Fear is the mind-killer.</dd><dd style="background-color: #f8f0e5; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: rubik, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.</dd><dd style="background-color: #f8f0e5; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: rubik, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I will face my fear.</dd><dd style="background-color: #f8f0e5; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: rubik, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I will permit it to pass over me and through me.</dd><dd style="background-color: #f8f0e5; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: rubik, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.</dd><dd style="background-color: #f8f0e5; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: rubik, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."</dd><p><br /></p><p>It is an inevitable step on my path towards finding myself. Becoming my authentic self. And being either loved or hated for it. But I would rather be hated for who I truly am, than loved for who I am not. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-48822897647435566552023-06-18T01:58:00.002-07:002023-06-18T01:58:40.962-07:00Asexual: a coming out<p>For most of my life, I have tried to fit the standard of being a sexual person. Someone who needs sex on a regular basis, enjoys it a ton, and who would never be able to live happily without it. </p><p>Because.. that's normal. It's expected. Sex plays a huge part in people's life. Not just because of actual sex but sex sells and so there are amazingly sexually attractive people in advertisements, sexual innuendo's are part of our everyday interactions, because.. that's normal. </p><p>And honestly I have desperately tried to fit in. I have had multiple partners throughout my life, some briefly, some for a much longer period and yes, I have had sex with them. Because that's normal. </p><p>But.. what I liked about it, was the fact that it pleased.. them. It was a bonding experience first and foremost. Like watching a football game with someone who is majorly into football, without liking football yourself, but still doing it because they love it so much. The whole physical act of it to me felt mostly awkward. Over the years, I have gotten pretty good at it, mostly so that I could make them cum reasonably fast, and be done with it. I moaned and grinded my way through the whole thing, faking orgasms left right and center and to the unsuspecting bedpartner I no doubt was an enthusiastic and skilled lover. But I'll be honest and say I would rather watch a good movie, have an amazing dinner or do something else I enjoy too, with them. Even though I am physically fully capable of having orgasms, the whole experience to me has always been in the "it's okay" category. </p><p>I have been told by several of my ex partners that I never take the initiative. This is absolutely true. I will never propose to watch a football game, either. </p><p>Earlier this year someone close to me came out as asexual. It's a term that for most of my life I had not even heard of. I am almost 59 and when I was younger we kind of knew gay people existed, lesbians did, but anything else outside of being straight and sexually active was unknown territory. Once I did hear about asexuality, I just assumed it meant something was physically wrong with these people, making them incapable of having sex and/or orgasms. And that wasn't me. But when this person desribed what he was feeling, or rather: not feeling, to me, I listened carefully, and at the end of his story I told him two things: That is perfectly fine. And; I think I am, too. </p><p>There has been a ton of reading up on the subject and analyzing myself, since. Suddenly, all of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. There was a word for the way my sexuality works. And maybe even more importantly: I was not alone. And that was immensely freeing. </p><p>Estimates are that about 1 to 2% of humanity is asexual. What you may not expect is that most of them are in intimate relationships. Some, because although asexual they are not aromantic and crave the romance, the seduction etc. Others, because they love their partner and want to make them happy. </p><p>In the real world, I have no partner and I am incredibly happy, that way. In SecondLife, I do partake in sexual activities, because I enjoy the bonding aspects of the experience and since there is no awkward RL rubbing genitals going on. And I do enjoy erotic roleplay. I enjoy writing, and so doing a very descriptive sex scene is fun, to me. As fun as roleplaying, for instance, a vampire is to me, too. Both are nowhere near the top of my SL priority list though. And because it's the bonding I value the most, I have very little interest in sex with strangers. I am never horny, I never need to get off (and actually, I won't even if I do engage in erotic roleplay). So this whole "fuck, I'm horny, let me go find someone to have sex with" that I see a lot in SL.. doesn't happen to me. Ever. And so the rare times I do partake in erotic roleplay, it will either be with someone I know very well and enjoy that bonding experience with, or someone who is clearly an exquisitely descriptive erotic roleplayer who managed to engage my mind within a short period of time. Which takes being wildly dominant (without being a mysoginist idiot, that's an instant turn off for me). I am a very real submissive but to me, it's about feeling the power over me. It's not a sexual thing at all, although that may be, and usually is, a part of those dynamics. </p><p>Because it is not a priority for me, people who keep messaging me for sex even if they are close friends tend to chase me away. It makes me feel like a steak in a lion's den. When I'm building quietly, out shopping, or hanging with friends chatting and having fun, sending me a "hiya you sexy thing" IM will provoke a profound "UGH"response, and if done repeatedly, will make me not want to engage in erotic roleplay with that person even if my mindset is so that I would be willing to. </p><p>Seeing me as a challenge is also a total turn off. "Oh, so you're picky, well that makes it extra special if I get you to have sex with me". That.. is actually quite offensive. Do you tell lesbians "I bet you'd no longer be a lesbian once I get my dick inside you", too? </p><p>What I need is to be accepted for who I am. Asexual, and an occasional sexual roleplayer. I need people to understand that to me, it's not a priority nor a need in any way and that I refuse to help them get off if I'm otherwise enjoying myself, or just not in the mood. I have been faking it long enough as to not offend people. I'm done doing that. </p><p>So here it is, out in the open, in honor of Pride month and in honor of, well.. myself. I am a happy, out of the closet, asexual. Show me the respect I deserve, and you just might be one of those people I enjoy erotic roleplay with. Don't.. and find yourself desperately trying to get into my virtual panties.. forever. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-22588270906622141882023-01-19T02:41:00.001-08:002023-01-19T02:41:10.308-08:00A submissive should not... or should she? <p>This one is actually a writing assignment I was given by E., my amazing Master. We had a conversation the other day, talking about friends of ours, where the submissive girl enjoys slapping her Master around and he enjoys it, also because it gives him the perfect reason to put her in her place. It's a fun, very primal interaction, and I like it. But in my mind, it clashes with what I've always been taught submissives should, and in many cases shouldn't, be doing. So I was given this assignment: write down all the things I have at some point been told are "not done" by submissives, and highlight the ones I would actually enjoy doing. So, here goes! </p><p><br /></p><p>Let me start by stating that in the past, I was a slave for 10 years in a 24/7 TPE relationship with my husband, that eventually turned sour and ended. I'm not wired to be a slave, but I was trained into being one, regardless. Since this is a particularly bad episode in my past, I don't feel like revisiting the extreme things I was trained into back then and have long labelled "utter bullshit", since. </p><p>So let's focus on the things that I still think are valid today, and find myself hesitating to do because in my mind, they are still "not done". I will divide them into 2 categories: The ones I agree with and feel no need to try, and the ones I may actually want to explore . </p><p>Agreed:</p><p>- Disrespecting one's Master. This may entail things like lying to him, being rude for no reason, being an annoying (so not just playful) brat in public just to see if he's going to do something about it, or more generally causing drama, gossiping, being a bad person as my behavior will reflect on him. I actually believe this is not done towards anyone I care about, so this one is a no brainer, to me. </p><p>Not sure: </p><p>- Being the only one who gets sexually satisfied. In the past, it has been drilled into me that my purpose is to serve, to give, etc. And so, being made to cum without him doing the same, feels wrong in my mind. It makes me really uneasy if someone, anyone really not just him, focuses solely on satisfying me because in my mind, that means they are serving me, and it should be the other way around. </p><p>Want to explore: </p><p>- The first thing that comes to mind here is being more primal. I love that interaction between our friends but at the same time, slapping, scratching, biting etc. my Master is something I was always taught is not done. </p><p>- Taking the initiative. This is another one I have a hard time with. Even if I really want to play, have sex etc., expressing that is hard, for me. I guess this also falls under "being more primal" in a way. </p><p>That's really all I can think of for the moment. if more comes to mind, I will add to it. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-52428028063128154512023-01-19T02:04:00.002-08:002023-01-19T02:04:47.014-08:00Better times<p> I just came back to my blog for the first time since the hernia episode, last year. I haven't felt like writing. First I was too busy recovering, and then I carried on with my life. I am proud to say I eventually was able to go back to work after 2 months. For a couple of hours a day at first, but slowly but steadily upping the hours and eventually ending up calling the company doctor that I was done with the 'slow build up" schedule, hours wise, I was on and wanted to work my full normal hours. 3 months after the hernia I was back to that. My back is still needing extra care, which means getting up at least every hour and walking around for a bit. I've been exercising, keeping a healthy diet, keeping a strict sleeping schedule and making sure I do everything I can to be as healthy as possible and the results are beyond what the doctors initially told me was possible. My A.S. is hardly progressing, if at all, which is amazing and pretty much an "against the odds" kind of thing. </p><p>Other than that life goes on. There's ups and downs but nothing major and I am generally quite the happy camper here. I'm kicking ass and taking names, and if anything the past year has proven it is that telling me I can't triggers an "oh yeah?" in me, and then I prove that actually, I can. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-61346704338625138622022-04-26T04:49:00.000-07:002022-04-26T04:49:26.078-07:00Back issues - Update 3<p> Yesterday was a really bad day. I had somehow managed to end up sleeping on my back, which causes me backaches by default when nothing is wrong with me, but now that my back is already injured it made things far, far worse. The pain was back full force, I could barely move and I didn't make it to the toilet in the morning. Yuck. </p><p>I called the physiotherapist and told him I was not going to make it the next day, to come to him. Just too much pain, and no idea how to even put my shoes on. He was very nice and offered to come see me the same day. Once here, he pulled and pushed around the hip area, put pressure on the bones at the center and it all hurt like hell, but I did feel a little better after. The pain was back to a somewhat manageable level but towards the end of the afternoon I was so tired of battling the pain I fell asleep and didn't wake until 7 pm. Owshit, I was supposed to cook dinner hours ago. I stumbled out of bed and met my son Mike in the hallway. </p><p>He told me he had ordered food from our favorite place which would arrive soon, and that the cats had already been fed so to not worry about a thing. This man truly is my angel right now, helping out where he can and doing just the right things to cheer me up on a grim day like yesterday. </p><p>Today it's a lot better again. I am doing my exercises, walking around the house a lot, managed to feed the cats myself, took a shower and changed clothes all by myself. I'm doggone tired because every movement has to be planned out and done very carefully, but I am managing and it feels great. I get up every 15 minutes to walk to the balcony door and back, and then I stand by the dresser in my bedroom and pull my knees up one by one to the top of it. </p><p>It probably all sounds silly and easy but to me right now, it's top sports. It's going to take time but I will get there eventually. One day, I will dance again. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-45604413857405203202022-04-24T01:02:00.000-07:002022-04-24T01:02:21.618-07:00Back issues - update 2<p> Sooooo this morning I woke at 6 am, took my painkillers and waited a while for them to kick in, meanwhile doing some stretching exercises in bed. When I finally though it was safe to try and get up, I managed to get out of bed with no pain at all. Walking still wasn't pleasant and very very slow, but I was rejoicing that the dreaded "getting into an upright position" actually was a piece of cake, today. </p><p>Sticking to my "get up every 15-30 minutes" schedule so far, to make sure I keep progressing. Still no clue how to get to the physiotherapist on Tuesday, but feeling more confident I'll be able to do it than yesterday. </p><p>I'm finding I am mostly battling my own fears here. At the slightest wrong movement, or even: fear the next movement might be a wrong one, all my myscles in my lower back, hips and butt cramp up, causing me the exact pain I was afraid of. I have since learned that doing breathing exercises to force myself to relax works, but not always. </p><p>All in all, still seeing progress, so quite happy about that. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-91014200143478744132022-04-23T04:36:00.000-07:002022-04-23T04:36:04.627-07:00Back issues - update<p> Sooooo I was stupid yesterday and went from 3 to 2 of the Tramadol painkiller tablets. I was feeling good during the afternoon so I was like: why not, that stuff is very addictive so the sooner I'm off it, the better. So I skipped the 2 pm pill ( I used to do 6 am - 2 pm - 10 pm) and decided to stick it out until it was time for the 6 pm pill, even managed to last until 7 pm until I actually took it.</p><p>All seemed fine until I woke up this morning in a TON of pain and spent all morning getting back to even being able to move around the house again, alternating between shuffling around slowly and in a lot of pain and doing stretching exercises as sitting made it even worse. I'm back to where I was before I was stupid yesterday, now and will be a good girl and take the 2 pm pill, too. It does make me way more dazed and forgetful but that pain.. was not worth a clearer head :(. </p><p>My next appointment with my physiotherapist is on Tuesday at 1 pm and I am supposed to come to him, this time. NO idea how to even put my shoes on but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. For a normal person it's a 10 minute walk so I'll leave half an hour or 45 minutes in advance to make sure I get there on time. </p><p>Way to go, Braveheart. Sometimes, listening to what the doctor tells you to do is actually a smart plan. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-7275998178479538532022-04-21T01:26:00.000-07:002022-04-21T01:26:34.746-07:00Back issues<p> I am no stranger to back issues. I have ankylosing spondylitis. For over 2 decades now, at random intervals my lower back just decides to collapse, causing me extreme discomfort. I am quite used to sometimes being unable to walk normally but rather having to shuffle around the house like a 98 year old. It hurts, but I have a high pain tolerance, plus I am stubborn, so I tend to not let it influence my life, take my Ibuprofen, exercise as much as possible and wait for it to pass, which usually takes a couple of days. </p><p>On Tuesday last week that happened again. I just kept on working, which I do from home, and went into "It will pass" mode, as I always do. But it did not really get any better over the next couple of days, in fact it slowly but steadily got worse, to the point where getting out of bed in the morning caused me tremendous pain and moving around the house was pure and utter agony. I called my doctor, asked for stronger painkillers and they told me to start taking Paracetamol together with the Ibuprofen. This reduced the pain by about 5%, so really.. not helping much, at all. But I kept pushing through, what else was there to do. </p><p>Early Sunday morning at around 2 am, I had to go to the bathroom. I managed to wiggle my legs over the edge of the bed, started to push myself towards a vertical position.. and then there was a loud series of cracks in my lower back, as if the discs got into a chain collision, and the pain was as if someone stuck a whole bunch of knives in my back, immediately making me fall back down on the bed, fighting to even stay conscious. </p><p>I ended up wetting myself, and the bed. There was no way I could get out of bed as the slightest movement twisted the knives in my back. And so I just lay there, battling the pain, helpless on my back like a beached whale, in a puddle of my own urine. At about 6 am I couldn't take it anymore and so I managed to grab my phone from the nightstand and text my son, who lives with me, an all encompassing "help". He appeared in my room and determined I needed a doctor and soon. As it was Easter Sunday, the only doctor available was the one on emergency duty at the hospital a couple of towns away. Since there was no way I could get to the hospital they came to me. So embarassing. The stench was dreadful, but she took it like a champ, pushed and pulled a little and decided I needed a muscle relaxant since all the muscles in my lower back were completely cramped up, which she prescribed me. My son then had to travel to the hospital she just came from to pick up the pills, which took him most of the morning. She also told me to get physiotherapy, and a service that helps with washing and dressing bedridden patients at home, as well as does some cleaning chores. </p><p>The muscle relaxant helped some, but it also made me drowsy and wobbly on my legs. By Monday afternoon I was able to get out of bed again, wash myself by the sink, put on clean clothes and while I did that son changed my bed, gagging but doing it regardless. Did I mention he's a hero? </p><p>Tuesday came and I was supposed to go back to working. I called in sick and told them this may take a while. "4-6 weeks" the emergency doctor had said. "2, at the most" I told myself. I am stubborn, and if there's anything I hate it's being helpless and dependant, so I was going to fight my way back and beat the odds. I called my own doctor because I was running out of the muscle relaxant. I could hear her frowning on the phone. "Muscle relaxant? That's not good. What you need is a stronger painkiller." I managed to NOT do an "I knew that a week ago but I wasn't listened to" but managed to not say a thing. One does NOT want to antagonize the very person one needs to get better. The stronger painkiller was Tramadol, an opiate, and I took my first one Tuesday early afternoon. Later that day the physiotherapist came, examined my back thoroughly, concluded multiple discs had slipped and herniated tissue was trapped between what indeed must look like a chain collision. The good news was no major nerves are trapped so I am not paralysed in any way. My legs do tingle a bit, as if I have soda in my veins, a bubbly kind of feeling. But strangely enough the extreme pain is also a good sign: things would be far worse if I didn't feel a thing. He gave me exercises to do, some useful tips about how to get in and out of bed, my chair, etc. and told me that it is very important to stay mobile, move around the house, do my exercises. He'll be back today. </p><p>Yesterday was a much better day. I could get out of bed with only medium pain, and the later in the day it was, the more easily I could move around, pull my legs up, crouch to get stuff from the floor like the cat's bowls to feed them. I force myself to get up and walk around the house at least every 30 minutes. Sitting or laying down for longer than that causes the whole area to cramp up again and makes things SO much more painful when I do get up. This morning getting out of bed was maybe a 3 on a 1-10 pain scale. I am stiff, but that was to be expected after a whole night of laying in bed but it's all at a bearable level unless I make a sudden movement or do something stupid like bending over to grab something that is on the floor. The Tramadol is making me absentminded and forgetful. I ask the same question multiple times, forgetting I already got an answer. I decide to do something, but first something else, and then I never do the thing I wanted to do directly after. So I am resorting to making lists that I keep on my desk. "Feed cats after making coffee". Stuff like that. </p><p>So yes, making progress here, not as fast as I would want to, but definitely moving towards less pain and more movement. Speaking of which.. time to waddle around the house again. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-31026798146682658032022-03-18T08:51:00.001-07:002022-03-18T08:51:55.302-07:00Spreading my wingsYesterday, the explorations of a dear friend of mine into the realms of BDSM led to a conversation between him and me, where I disclosed some aspects of my previous life as a slave and all the things that have happened to me during that episode of my life. I showed him some photo's, and he seemed shocked at seeing me shaved bald, which I was, for 1.5 years, back then.<div><br /></div><div>Seeing those photo's again myself left me feeling tremendously sad. I had buried the memories, and yet I was stupid enough to dig them up and share some of them. And together with the pain the anger surfaced, at men crossing boundaries and using women for their own pleasure without making sure the woman enjoys it just as much. Or even: knowing she doesn't, and still doing what they want because after all, she is a slave so she has no say in things, and if she tries to say no, she is being a bad slave and should never even call herself submissive. </div><div><br /></div><div>I will not go into any more detail here because even now, 12 years after we parted ways, just thinking about it fills me with not just pain and anger but also: fear. I haven't slept much last night because my head kept going back to that very dark place, sometimes falling asleep only to be woken by vivid nightmares that were even more scary than the average nightmare because most of it was, at some point in my life, real. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can't go on this way. Although I have seemingly overcome the PTSS I was diagnosed with after I was finally able to escape that relationship, I realize I am not fully healed. I am too easily put off balance by things like yesterday's conversation and it makes me angry at the world, at men sexualizing me. I will refuse even a snuggle or some innocent flirtations from close friends who I will normally flirt with just as much as they do, with me. I need to grab this negative, hating monster that lives inside me by the tail, stick it in a box and burn it. The monster makes me occasionally very sad, angry and jaded towards men in general, who have done nothing wrong. But even more importantly the monster keeps me from being my happy, playful, flirty, sexual self, my real self who I enjoy being so much. It keeps the butterfly from flying. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just deleted all the photo's from back then. They serve no purpose and they only hurt me whenever I look at them. There is nothing to be gained from hanging on to bad memories. I need to let them go. And I need to embrace not who I was or who I will be, but who I am, right here, right now. Not perfect. Not by a long shot. Damaged perhaps, but a survivor, and someone who I think has managed to hang on to her core being. A nice person, warm and caring and smart, with a sense of humor and a quick wit. And where it comes to BDSM: a very soft person who before anything else needs to feel loved, cared for and cherished. Not a slave. Not even all that submissive most of the time because I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, running my own life and calling the shots if need be. But with a deeply rooted need for someone to take that away from me at times and bring out the much softer, playful girl on the inside. </div><div><br /></div><div>About a year ago someone told me that on the inside, I am still a slave, and that I should find a Dominant capable of handling that slave, the right way. This person was wrong. I was wrong, for believing it. I am not a slave and I never was, not mentally, because I'm simply not wired to be a slave. All I ever wanted was to be loved, protected, nurtured. To be that beautiful but fragile butterfly I usually keep hidden deep inside. To spread my wings. To fly. And I'm going to. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-82735269054100518832021-03-23T08:01:00.002-07:002021-04-09T23:57:03.755-07:00From Alpha, to slave, with all my love <p> Dear slave heart of mine,</p><p>Now that you are back to being unowned, and the things that led to that, I as your Alpha self have taken full control of you again. I needed to, because you were hurting, damaged, disrespected and more things that bring tears to my eyes. I wish I could have prevented it, but I have not and for that, I am truly sorry. </p><p>There are a few things I am going to put in writing for you, now that I have the chance to do so. It's a set of rules you are to stick to, even if eventually you go down the road of being Owned again. I want you to promise me that no matter what, these rules will be obeyed, at all times, no matter how amazing your new Owner is. And I want you to reread them, whenever you feel something is asked of you that may not be right, and even in between those moments, just so you can spot these things even before they become a bad gut feeling and so you can say no to them, immediately. </p><p>1. Your RL comes first. Always. You will not be on SL if you have RL obligations, don't feel well, or simply don't feel like being on SL right now. You will communiate clearly about this but you will never log in if you don't truly want to. </p><p>2. Control over your RL is also completely off limits for your SL Owner. They are not to tell you how to live your RL, because they are not a part of it. They may advise, give opinions but the decisions in that area of your life are, and always will be, mine and mine alone. </p><p>3. Anyone who wants to change the way you look, should look elsewhere for someone who looks the way they want. A slave is to be appreciated, loved and cherished as she is, not changed into something she is not. This is a BIG red flag you have ignored multiple times in the past, and that has to stop. </p><p>4. You will not go along with ideas and roleplay scenario's that go against your true beliefs. This includes racial inequality, gender based biases, and really any sort of discrimination but also things like verbal and physical abuse beyond what you perceive as enjoyable or at least challenging. </p><p>5. Intention is important, but it isn't everything. Do they want what they want because it is mutually beneficial? And even if it does, how does it make you feel? Always trust your guts here. Never judge anyone by their words alone. Their actions, and how they make you feel, are more important than their words. Assess this on a case by case basis and if in doubt, talk to trusted friends and ask their opinion before agreeing to anything. </p><p>In general: I want you to realize that they have you on loan when you are logged in and I expect you to make them as happy as can be during those times. But ultimately, you belong to me and it is my job to protect you, even from them. You are to protect yourself from any type of harm. Rule Number One for slaves still stands, and always will: Protect the Property. </p><p>Now go and live your SL. Be happy, be playful, be the sexual being I know you are. Leave all the worries and the hurt behind because they are in the past, they are lessons learned. Spread all that love and Light you have in you. Make me proud. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-65766299808142899752021-03-10T10:52:00.000-08:002021-03-10T10:52:17.988-08:00Hello World<p> Hello world.</p><div>I once used to live there too, where you are now. </div><div>Fond memories of dancing in your squares, now all empty. </div><div>Getting drunk in your bars, now all closed. </div><div>My first kiss in one of your parks, now filled with signs: keep your distance. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have traveled all over you, with friends or to go and see lovers who since have all moved.. to a screen. </div><div>Your busy beaches, vibrating cities, amazing forests and mountains and valleys with all their sounds and colors now only exist in books and on my screen.. out of reach. </div><div>I can no longer touch anyone.. my mask keeps me from inhaling the scent of people I love and crying on someone's shoulder is no longer allowed.. it's a risk. As is most anything that involves people. </div><div><br /></div><div>My soul aches for you. You are so close, and yet so incredibly far away. I watch, from behind my window or my mask and I can't wait for the day that you will tell me that I am forgiven. </div><div><br /></div><div>For disrespecting you. For taking you for granted. For making you see no other way than to hurt me and my entire species back for all we have done to you. For being arrogant and thinking we can just continue taking from you without giving back, destroying, overpopulating, damaging you. </div><div><br /></div><div>For now, all I can do is cherish the memories. And tell you that I truly, honestly</div><div><br /></div><div>am sorry. </div><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-10720180820642224822021-03-10T10:50:00.002-08:002021-03-10T10:58:10.748-08:00Angel revisited<p _msthash="351624" _msttexthash="91684736">It has been a very long time since I last spoke to her. We used to have frequent conversations, back in the days when I was still happily married and was working on my personal growth and development. She helped me tremendously then, and over time, I learned to fluidly move between her realm and mine, between my angelic connection and my human self, between taking a helicopter view and being smack in the middle of things, struggling. </p><p _msthash="351625" _msttexthash="307029268">When my marriage fell apart and the difficult events that led to that, as well as the ones that happened after that.. I subconsciously created a coping mechanism that worked well. I became a hermit, hiding away from the world, from people, from feelings even my own. I covered the tremendous pile of stinky mess with a thick concrete plate, built a castle on it, and happily lived there, feeling very proud of myself for being able to move on and still be happy. The thick walls protected me, and over the years I even let several people inside them, only to eventually find I shouldn't have, for various reasons. Each time that happened the walls became even thicker, with less windows, less openings. To the outside world I proclaimed that I was happy, independant, doing my own thing not needing anyone. </p><p _msthash="351626" _msttexthash="154374207">Then only very recently my daughter told me she is seeing a therapist, who amongst other things helps her work through the extensive damage that has been done to her in the past. And I started to wonder if maybe I too should try to carefully open the concrete plate and deal with the horror that lies beneath. I find that, as well as the castle has served me to not get hurt again, or at least not as deeply and badly.. it is also keeping me from truly connecting with people. from having friends, relationships and yes.. love. It is cold in there, and dark, and at times: lonely. </p><p _msthash="351627" _msttexthash="218232625">But what to do? I knew a therapist is not for me. I have spoken to several over the past years, forced by my employer to seek help the two times I had a burnout. Both times it didn't lead anywhere, because I am so damn good at portraying this happy, balanced person, at going "nah I was just overworked but I'm fine now" and happily being on my way, back to work after a couple of weeks and really finding the whole "building up work hours slowly" policy that is used for returning after a burnout quite laughable , I felt fine, so why wouldn't they want to let me work my full hours straight away. </p><p><span _msthash="351628" _mstmutation="1" _msttexthash="160457570">Some time ago I spoke to a very dear friend who knows me better than most. Like me, he is a very strong empath, capable of feeling inside a person and not being fooled by what they say. Our talk was one of the kind where you connect at a very deep level and all of a sudden, as he reached out inside me, he hit a wall. Examining it more closely he described the wall as more of a cylinder, all around me and going so far down he was unable to find the bottom of it. Me being me I half joked and said that's because the bottom of it is rooted in Hell itself, where the top of it reaches into Heaven, and it's a </span><span _msthash="20488" _mstmutation="1" _msttexthash="117026">cylinder</span><span _msthash="351629" _mstmutation="1" _msttexthash="869583"> so I can move up and down inside of it. </span></p><p><span _msthash="351629" _mstmutation="1" _msttexthash="869583">After that talk, I was lying in my bed and couldn't sleep. And without even willfully doing it I called upon her and she appeared, amazingly beautiful as always, the perfect version of my imperfect me, looking at me with that familiar "ok, tell me" look. I told her, about the conversation with my friend, the things I was struggling with, the sadness, the anger, the undealt with hurt and how I didn't want to talk to a therapist but felt I needed to do something about this cold and dark wall I had built around myself. </span></p><p><span _msthash="351629" _mstmutation="1" _msttexthash="869583">After I finished talking she smiled. "was that what your friend saw? A cold, dark wall?" Well no, he didn't say wall, he said cylinder. She nodded. "What if I tell you the cylinder is glass? and that, the higher up you go, the more light shines into it as the glass becomes more transparent? And that you are actually capable of moving through the glass at any point, because you are it's creator, and therefore, it will do as you tell it to?" I pondered that thought for a moment. But it serves a purpose no, to protect me from the pain from the past and make sure it doesn't happen again? She shook her head. "You said it yourself. The pain is at the bottom of the cylinder. Not outside of it, but inside of it. That pain is a part of you and as such, it belongs inside of the cylinder. All you need to do is to let go of the fear, which is what the cylinder is really made of. You are scared beyond words that you will get hurt again and at the same time you have no idea what that pain really is". I gave her a puzzled look. "You're right, I don't. What is it?" She shrugged. "It's a weapon darling. A sword, forged in that Hellfire you are so afraid of. You are failing to see that you are who you are, exactly because you have been there. That all you have to do, is take the sword with you and use those mighty wings of yours to fly, up towards the light, sideways straight through the glass, wherever you want to go. And understand that only one thing powers those wings: love. You are strenghtening the cylinder by giving in to the fear, yet all you have to do is stop fearing and allowing love to guide you. And that includes trusting the fact that your sword will protect you, in case it's ever needed." </span></p><p><span _msthash="351629" _mstmutation="1" _msttexthash="869583">I smiled, and I knew she was right. I wanted to speak but she had already vanished, as she always does after she has said what needed said. It didn't matter because she too, is a part of me. My guardian angel. We really should talk more often. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-72160648068956747042020-01-04T05:25:00.001-08:002020-01-04T05:25:59.195-08:00Facing the AbyssAbout six months ago, I met a man in Second Life who turned my world upside down.We mashed so well it was unreal, shared almost all viewpoints, desires and dreams, and soon the relationship moved into real life. I spent a week with him twice, and we found that in RL too, we were a match that was so amazing we had to honestly admit we had never felt anything like it. Then towards the end of December, we hit a bump in the road. Elaborating on what and how serves no purpose and so I won't. The important thing is we resolved it, and happily moved on being happy. Then a second bump announced itself, and I figured just like the first time we would talk things through and move on. I voiced my concerns and even came up with a possible solution, not thinking it was a big deal, just working on ironing out a few wrinkles. I would have been more than willing to discuss several other possible solutions. I am flexible, adult, laid back and I was sure that no matter what, we could work this out. After all, we loved each other in real life so a minor issue in SL was.. well, just that, a minor issue. Or so I thought.<br />
<br />
And then he said it. "I think it would be better if we are just friends". My head went dizzy and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and as I tried to hold on with all my strength I felt the eternal blackness of the Abyss open right under me, sucking me in. I managed to somehow still speak to him. Calm, non aggressive. There was no anger. There wasn't even sadness. Just.. numbness, not believing he had just thrown it all away over what I thought was a minor issue in a virtual world. Within seconds he went from being the love of my life to someone I didn't even know. Was all of this just a sexual thing for him? Was the deep love I thought we both felt one sided and had I become a nuisance to him by voicing things I believed he wasn't doing right, or simply because they made me uncomfortable? Who was this man and had I even ever truly known him, at all?<br />
<br />
Over the following days, numbness slowly turned into anger. I struggled with it, trying to not let it consume me and eventually I let it all out while cuddled up with a dear friend who was just about the only one who didn't see my freshly being single as a chance to try and get into my panties. He let me rant, and vent until finally, finally the tears came. I cried like a little girl. SO incredibly hurt I was barely able to breathe. And then he picked up my chin, made me look into his eyes and told me that I had to let it go. That I had to stop blaming myself, for not seeing the signs, for failing to comply with this man's desires, for standing up for myself. That I was an amazing woman, strong and proud and caring and that none of this was my fault. That it was this man's loss, and that it would only be a matter of time before he would regret it. I snarled a "Well, it's too late now" through my tears and he laughed and nodded. "I know Kitten. And you just proved my point. You are better than this. Let it go. Be that person made of Light that I know you are. Don't give in to the darkness. It loves you because you are it's favorite flavor. Don't fall for it."<br />
<br />
The Abyss closed, right there and then. It probably knew it had been beaten and cowardice as it is, it retreated, no doubt waiting to strike another day, but for now defeated. I could breathe again, laugh again, live.. again.<br />
<br />
And I am taking my first baby steps here. Getting out of the house, meeting new friends, by far not ready for a new relationship yet, not now, and maybe even never. My restored balance still wobbly at times and not ready to go that deep for anyone. But with my natural happiness, wit and sensuality back in place, ready to explore the world and see what it has to offer. Back to living in the moment. And thoroughly enjoying it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-87615643048390767302017-04-06T01:07:00.002-07:002019-06-13T01:47:16.842-07:00I am a willow tree<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I am a willow tree</span><br />
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">grown on the edge of land</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">where waters eat away my soil</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and rivers groan and rage and boil</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">yet even so.. I stand</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a willow tree</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I may look bare, I weep</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and bend my head in storm and rain</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hiding my face and all it's pain</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but my dignity.. I keep</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a willow tree</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They cut me and they take</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">my branches from me, trim my head</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but I still grow and bloom and spread</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You will not</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">see me</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-size: small;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">brea</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">k</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-14941724555128223692015-06-10T10:43:00.002-07:002016-07-01T00:55:59.633-07:00On independanceShe passed away some 10 years ago. My grandmother, in her nineties, after having lived a rather remarkable life. My grandfather died when she was not even 50 and from that moment on she lived her life alone. Having inherited quite a bit of money from other family members who died earlier as well as having a good widow's pension, my grandma did not need to worry about having to work to make ends meet. And so she chose a life of traveling, frequently and to all corners of the world, and outside of that spending her time at her home, close to her family and being very active in the local women's movement, amateur acting, singing and similar activities. She had a large circle of friends. She didn't know the concept of boredom, she lived a happy and full life.<br />
<br />
But what I never understood was the fact she never remarried, or even had a new relationship. At the time, I was in my twenties and I had just begun to discover relationships, sex, and love. And I enjoyed every minute of it. I can't count the times she and I sat talking and I asked her about this, and she would always give me the same answer: "I honestly don't need a man". To me, that made no sense at all, how could she not want that? I pointed out to her that she was still young, attractive, smart, funny, there really was no reason at all to give up hope. She would laugh at me, playfully poke me and tell me that one day, maybe, I would understand but that having this discussion now was utterly pointless. And she would end the conversation there and then with her usual "Tea?"and that was that.<br />
<br />
I am now 50 years old. I was married 3 times, had a couple more long term relationships without tying the knot, and all of it taught me valuable lessons. About relationships, love, sex and life in general. Maybe the most important lesson I learned was the simple fact that I not only can, but need to, be a whole person, on my own. Happiness is a solo trip. Which doesn't mean I don't enjoy the company of other people, friends and lovers.. but they need to be an addition to my life, not a burden. And I find that sharing my life with somebody on a fulltime basis does indeed feel like a burden to me. More importantly, I don't want to depend on other people for my own personal happiness. I am a balanced person on my own. I don't need anyone to fill a gap in my life and complete me. Yesterday a male friend said: "But your health is far from 100% and yet you keep going, never yielding... don't you want someone to care for you and protect you, so that you don't have to be strong all the time?"<br />
<br />
And the answer was no. And the reason it was no, was because of all the other aspects having a relationship implies. Sure, at times I would love to have someone by my side, telling me to stop running and sit down. I would love someone to deal with some of the stressful moments in my life, telling me " I'll deal with it". But those are a packaged deal with that same someone claiming my time when I want to be alone, demanding to know where I was when and with who, not liking the same food I love, making me end up never cooking it anymore, laying in my bed snoring when I'm desperately trying to get some sleep, getting man flu and acting like they're about to die, having some disgusting habits that make me cringe like leaving their dirty underwear anywhere but in the hamper, losing the cap that goes on the toothpaste or putting the toilet paper roll in the dispenser with the paper coming out at the backside. No, no, NO!<br />
<br />
What about the good sides you ask? The companionship, the knowing each other really well and being able to share our deepest thoughts? The sex? The going places together, doing fun stuff? Well.. in my world.. that is called friendship. I don't need a man.<br />
<br />
Tea?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-44195787627612594932014-08-12T11:12:00.001-07:002014-08-12T11:54:27.339-07:00Lights outIt was on the news today. Robin Williams died, aged only 63. And it looks like he probably committed suicide. Reading the news filled me with tremendous sadness.<br />
<br />
He was one of the funniest people I knew. Not personally of course, but he has made me laugh ever since he played Mork in " Mork and Mindy", back in the seventies. Movies like " Mrs. Doubtfire", " Good Will Hunting", " Good Morning Vietnam" made me cry and taught me a lot about what really matters in life. I have seen his stand up comedy many times, and his " How Scotsmen invented golf" has pulled me through many a rough moment in my life because no matter how often I saw it, it made me laugh until it hurt and forget about the misery I was in. Apart from the fact he was a great comedian and wonderful actor he always struck me as genuine. making the world a better place with his many talents. Building bridges between people. The world has lost a remarkable person.<br />
<br />
It made me think. Why is it, that so many true stars have to die this way. Amy Winehouse, Jim Morrison, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, to name just a few but the list is so, so much longer. It is almost as if great talent over time becomes a burden that is impossible to bear.<br />
<br />
In spite of all the money and fame, or maybe even: because of all the money and fame. Maybe it is the audience that puts so much pressure on them they eventually collapse under it.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's something else. Looking at the skies I remembered my astronomy lessons from school. What happens to those stars when they are past their productive stage? Well.. one of two things basically. Smaller stars will turn into white dwarves. But the big ones.. a <span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Lustria, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22.0049991607666px;">supernova will take place and the rest of the material will condense into a black hole. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Lustria, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22.0049991607666px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Lustria, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22.0049991607666px;">Maybe that is what is happening to our truly big human stars, too. They don't fade away like the white dwarf stars of the skies. They, quite literally, go with a bang. And maybe that is not such a bad thing, especially not if it was their own choice. It's better to burn up than to fade away. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Lustria, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22.0049991607666px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Lustria, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22.0049991607666px;">And just like the stars of the skies, we can still see them long after they are gone. Their light still travels through space, even if the source is long gone. And as such, death is a relative thing.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Lustria, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22.0049991607666px;">Thank you Mr. Williams, for having been a light in my life on many occasions. Here we go, one more time.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #111111; font-family: Lustria, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22.0049991607666px;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/fDVvqfIfrCc" width="420"></iframe></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-62252765451883862572014-07-16T14:18:00.002-07:002014-07-16T14:31:02.839-07:0050Two weeks ago, I turned 50. Which wasn't a big deal at all to me, but people kept telling me it is a milestone and so I suppose now is the time to reflect on my life so far, and to look forward to the years ahead.<br />
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I'll be honest and say it hasn't always been easy. I have had my share of disasters, illness, I've had everything taken away from me and started from scratch multiple times. I have fought for my daughter who was diagnosed with autism at a very young age, determined to give her the best life possible. I have given up my career to become a fulltime mom, and once the kids were big enough, I have gone back to working only to find that whatever I once was I am not anymore. 10 years of not working tends to set you back to having to start from the bottom all over again. And so workwise I find myself being at a level which once was several levels below mine. Not the manager anymore but the employee. No more Chanel, Pradas and Lobotins but jeans, T-shirts and sneakers. The past few years, I have dealt with my kids entering puberty, as a single mother, barely making enough to survive and yet wanting to give my children all I possibly could. I have dealt with so many threatening letters and phonecalls from the bank, because my ex husband wasn't paying the mortgage on the house I still co-own and they wanted their money. Last year I have faced possibly losing my job because my scores weren't good enough. I had a burn out and then a heart attack this year as first my mind, then my body collapsed under the pressure. Then, and only then, did I finally learn the lesson.<br />
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And the lesson was to let go, just be, and deal with life one breath at a time. To face both triumph and disaster with equal grace and acceptance. To realize, all of this is just one big illusion and that I am free to be, no matter what curved balls life throws at me. And to start counting my blessings, all of them, for they are many.<br />
<br />
And so here I am. 50 years of age and for the first time in many years, I can honestly say I am happy. When I look in the mirror I no longer see an overstressed, overtly tired, worn down working mom. I see a beautiful woman looking a lot younger than I am. With curves in all the right places and a few I would rather live without but I fully accept them as a part of who I am. Scars all over my body but they are battle scars, from surgeries survived and healthy children being born. A sparkling pair of blue eyes, a grin that appears frequently. And I am oozing with energy. Not always physically, I still have a heart condition and sometimes work, or difficult days in my private life make me very tired. But it is a physical thing and it doesn't affect me mentally.<br />
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My children have grown up to be wonderful human beings. They have a sense of honor, truth, dignity and don't bend under the pressure of what society thinks they should do or be. They tell me what's on their mind and share their insecurities, dreams and setbacks. My daughter is a fully normal, social, great young woman and I wish I would remember the name of that doctor at the hospital who once told me she would never, ever be independant just because I would love to pay him a visit and tell him that nothing is impossible if you believe and that giving up on a child is always, always the wrong choice no matter how grim the future may seem.<br />
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I have a roof over my head, food in the fridge, a job I love to bits, friends and colleagues who make me smile many times a day, an awesome team leader who has pulled me through more than once during moments when it all fell apart. My scores are back up, my job is secure. I am loved. I am appreciated. I am whole.<br />
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I am not afraid anymore. The old house is for sale and there will be a huge debt remaining once it is sold, but I will deal with it when it happens and not worry about it. I am learning to speak my mind when people do me wrong. I am learning to ask for help when I need it instead of trying to be perfect all the time, even if I am really not up to it. I am accepting me, all of me. And most of all I am learning it is okay to do things for me, and to strive for happiness, not just for those around me and my kids for who I feel so, so responsible but for myself, too.<br />
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At 50 years of age, I am finally discovering what it's like to be the master of my own fate. The creator of my own dreams. And I have learned that flying isn't a matter of desperately moving your wings up and down trying to stay up in the air. It's a matter of floating on the winds and taking advantage of the air streams, the hot ones and the cold ones because it is in these differences, the yin and yang, the darkness and the light, that movement is found.. effortlessly.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-12224715898780674832013-12-14T04:33:00.002-08:002013-12-14T04:41:08.917-08:00Noblesse obligeHere in the Netherlands, we have an expression: Customer is King. There's probably similar expressions around the world but they all boil down to the same thing: as a company, you have an obligation to treat your customers with utter respect. <br />
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Of course we all have had many experiences where, as a customer, we were treated with anything but respect. Especially callcenters are infamous for being full of uninterested, grumpy, often even incapable employees. And even though these days awareness of how important it is to be customer oriented, friendly and helpful is high in almost every callcenter, the bad experiences still happen. For companies, present day social media are a very real threat because of the way customers have access to large audiences if they feel the need to spread the word about how awful they were treated. Where 20 years ago "I'm writing a complaint letter to the manager"was about the worst they could do, nowadays you company name can and will be badly damaged by just one person posting a negative comment on Twitter or Facebook.<br />
<br />
This gives customers a great deal of power. But with great power comes great responsibility and it might be time to start realising this. Here are a few helpful tips on how to be a good customer:<br />
<br />
- If you are greeted with "good morning" by the person on the phone, try returning the favor. "Yes, I want to..." is not a nice way to start a conversation.<br />
- If you can't get your way, don't shoot the messenger. There are limitations to what customer service employees can and can't do for you. Be reasonable, thank them for doing everything they could even if in the end it didn't work out the way you wanted it to. <br />
- Demanding to speak to a manager won't result in getting your way after all. Rules and limitations are there for a reason, and most modern day callcenters are set up in such a way that managers are often not even around or available, because it is their job to make sure the phone lines are answered, the employees are trained etc... not to speak to you. 9 out of 10 managers at callcenters will have far less knowledge of the product and the possibilities/limitations than the employees they are managing. <br />
- Getting personal, even nasty to the employee will cost you the one ally you have in the situation you are in. Keep in mind it is this person's job to help you and solve your problem where and if they possibly can. They are not the enemy and if you treat them as such chances at getting what you want will greatly diminish. After all, they too are human and I bet you wouldn't go out of your way for someone who is calling you names, either.<br />
- Express your appreciation. If a problem you had was solved, a question answered in a way you were happy with, a deadline met due to the help of a customer service employee.. Tell them. "Thank you"are probably the two words most often forgotten to say. <br />
<br />
And that brings us to the core of this article. What we as customers often forget is the simple fact that these people are working really hard to answer all our questions, solve our problems and provide service. Depending on the company they answer 20 to 200 calls a person a day, and they try to be friendly and helpful to each and every one of those customers. They have often gone through lengthy training to gain all the knowledge that is needed to do their job. They are fathers, mothers, partners, humans... not robots. They are not a verbal punching bag their company has installed for us as customers to be rude, nasty, unreasonable to or even worse: an outlet for our personal frustrations the company doesn't even have anything to do with. Service.. is not servitude. And indeed as customers we have every right to demand respect, but we have an obligation to be respectful just as well. Noblesse oblige or: royalty comes with obligations. If you want to be treated like a king (and I mean an actual king, one who is loved and respected, not the dictator type).. start acting like one. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-14474817180739760172013-10-01T01:59:00.001-07:002013-10-01T01:59:53.026-07:00Choosing our lessonsI tend to see life as a continuous stream of lessons to learn and opportunities to grow. More often than not, we have very little influence on the circumstances we are in, even if they are the result of our own choices. We need to deal with the present moment, as well as we can. But we do have a choice in how we deal with things, in what we learn from the lesson.<br />
<br />
Pain teaches us how to hurt others, wallow in self pity.. or how to show compassion exactly because we know what it feels like to get hurt.<br />
Being loved teaches us how to use others to our advantage, or how to love others, in return.<br />
Being manipulated teaches us how to manipulate others, or how to stand up for what we know is right even if it means losing friends, losing respect, being cast aside.<br />
Financial issues teach us how important money is, or how to still be happy with very little possibilities, get creative in our shopping and eating habits, and see the beauty in things no amount of money can ever buy like our health, the love of our children and having clean air to breathe.<br />
Being rejected teaches us how horribly mean people can be, or how to accept defeat with grace, get up and move on without losing our self respect.<br />
Getting sick teaches us how to feel sorry for ourselves and how fragile and therefore useless our body is, or how to listen to our body, see our own limitations, and have the grace and patience to work on getting better and rejoice in the healing capacities we possess.<br />
Losing a loved one teaches us pain at the deepest level of our soul and how it is better to not love anyone so we don't have to deal with that pain ever again, or how to allow ourselves to feel that pain and go straight through it, discovering that on the other side of it there is nothing but pure love and gratitude for the wonderful memories, for having shared a part of ourselves with this person, for having become a better person, enriched because of it.<br />
Fear teaches us to always stay on the safe side of things, that ours is a hostile world, that dreaming is a waste of time.. or that in facing our fears, acknowledging them but not letting them hold us back we find ultimate freedom.<br />
Dealing with prejudices teaches us that people are stupid, narrowminded, and that it is best to not be any different from anyone else... or choosing to be ourselves, no matter the consequences, and to educate people in a gentle way, not by force but by showing compassion and acknowledging the fears that are at the very root of their viewpoint.<br />
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In many ways, life is one big education system. And just like in school, the students who are the most promising, the smartest, the ones with the big talents are the ones who need to study the toughest material and pass the hardest tests. Not because they need to be given a hard time, but because it is the only way they can get an education that goes with what they are meant to be in life.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-69179744793316178082013-06-19T14:04:00.001-07:002013-06-19T14:05:01.901-07:00Men explained<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">
<span lang="EN-US">Conversation with my wonderful friend Mikael.. one of few who doesn't run when confronted with the way my mind works</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P laughs and tickles you. The women in your life will soon rule your world :)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">M: they always did<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: Nothing wrong with that<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">M: hahaha !!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">M: forgot to add "at least they think so" !!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: well, big secret: we women play the same trick with men<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: amazing how many relationships thrive on "really? that's interesting dear" and “you are right, dear"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">M: hahaha !!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">M: maybe it's because you don't understand what men say<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: ultimately it all boils down to one of two things: shut up and leave me alone (because I'm busy doing something I enjoy) or: shut up, let's have sex<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">M: hahaha !!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: everything else is either polite ways of getting the same message across.. or foreplay<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">M: interesting subject<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: hmm maybe there is a third: shut up, I'm hungry<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: so basically the manual to dealing with men is simple. If he has an erection: have sex with him. If he doesn't have an erection but is clearly having fun.. leave him alone.. if he doesn't have an erection but seems restless.. make him food<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: oh and if he's having an erection and he's clearly having fun: either kick the other man/woman out of your bed, or join them there<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">P: now pondering how restaurants were invented.. must have something to do with finding multiple people in your bed, without any erections<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">M: excellent</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-13382791367669933232011-09-08T10:39:00.000-07:002011-09-08T10:39:02.864-07:00Higher Ground.. the latest Playing for Change<embed src="http://playingforchange.com/player/widget.swf?episode=52" width="460" height="360" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent">Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-14918405361457054802011-01-13T01:23:00.000-08:002011-01-13T01:28:03.628-08:00Dear Mr. President<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Dear Mr. President, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">This morning, I got up at 6:30 to make my kids breakfast and walk them to the station, in the pouring rain, to make sure they would arrive at school in time. I will admit I wasn’t in the world’s greatest mood. The rain, the cold, the fact I am struggling to make a living working a tiring call center job, and no matter what I do the situation not changing... it all had me grumbling. And I hated the world, so full of unfairness, ugliness, stupidity.</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-US"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Once home, I fired up my computer, reading the news, and stumbling upon an article about your speech at the Tucson memorial service. I decided to find it on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztbJmXQDIGA">YouTube</a>, and watch it. “President Obama urges nation to focus on what heals, not what wounds” the news article had said. “Suuuure, that’s so easily said” I thought, cynical as I usually am towards any politician because.. quite frankly.. to me, politics is just a bunch of power hungry idiots saying a lot, but doing very little to actually change the root causes of problems we face. And so I sat back, and watched. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I am not ashamed to admit that what I then saw made me cry. It probably means very little to you that a simple mother in a small town near Amsterdam, the Netherlands sat here, crying her eyes out because what you said there rung so true, and was so much from the heart. But I am letting you know nonetheless because I believe that the message you brought in that speech, is the one message this world needs. It is the one message that says it all. It is the message of peace, and how to achieve it. Not by endless debates, not by means of our guns are bigger than yours, not by compromising to at least give the impression we are working on it without ever changing our actual viewpoints. But by looking inside, finding that loving, caring, compassionate person we all are at our core, and nurturing that. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">A solution so simple it sounds almost too good to be true. Peace, both inner peace and world peace alike, is already there. All we need to do, is strip off all those layers concealing it. The prejudices, the hatred, the fears that cloud our judgment. It is our natural tendency to want to change the world around us, find someone to blame, strike back, anything but to simply look at why things bother us, and what we, not them, can do to change it. And in a way, this is not completely a bad thing. The fact we growl, point fingers, want to strike back at least means that we care. The true opposite of love is not hate… it’s indifference.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">And so, I want to thank you. Your words and the fact that you had the guts to speak them made me realize once more what life is all about. They taught me a lesson in humility and compassion, made me look at who I am and why I am here. And they even forced a cynic to revise her viewpoints on politicians. You sir, are definitely one of the good guys in my book. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Thank you, and have a wonderful day. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-42331709979037233852010-08-03T04:11:00.000-07:002010-08-03T04:11:56.711-07:00But I thought....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDncaRBlPiEHHeHDgb3uhKCWHbLp-9CbQsAQQJL_i19IoocxlOuGfuJOpvCPMTb9EKhCqrrpB82YIczlxCe0K-Ho3tQYqKpOKpA-tCnbE3KjznHzlPDa6BZZoA5029wb2BhIGKGDVhUI0X/s1600/assume.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDncaRBlPiEHHeHDgb3uhKCWHbLp-9CbQsAQQJL_i19IoocxlOuGfuJOpvCPMTb9EKhCqrrpB82YIczlxCe0K-Ho3tQYqKpOKpA-tCnbE3KjznHzlPDa6BZZoA5029wb2BhIGKGDVhUI0X/s400/assume.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
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People who know me, know I am fiercely opposed to any sort of assumptions. Around this house, we often say it to each other.. "don't THINK". Think about it (pun intended here): Almost every lame excuse starts with "but I thought...". Assumptions are the mother of all disasters. Don't believe me? Here are a few examples: <br />
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"But I thought there were no icebergs here" - Titanic<br />
"But I never thought it would burn" - Hindenburg<br />
"But I really thought those doors were closed" - Herald of Free Enterprise<br />
"But I thought it was a great invention!" - Icarus<br />
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And it's not just major disasters that are caused by assumptions. It's also smaller ones, closer to home, in our life, personal and professional relationships. Why do marriages end in divorce? Because we thought the other person would change, or would not change. Why do we find ourselves looking for another job? Because we assumed it would be different, because we assumed we would get away with things, because we assumed... allsorts of things. <br />
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Contrary to popular belief not circumstances, such as work load or difficult personal situations, but ... assumptions are the primary cause of all our stress. We get stressed out because the world is not the way we assumed it to be. And instead of adjusting our image of the world according to what it proves to be in reality, we get angry, or frustrated.<br />
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Is it simple to adjust that image? Sometimes yes. In many ways, we can make the best of each moment by fully immersing ourselves in it, and by not paying attention to anything that for the moment is outside of our circle of influence. We all know how to play a videogame. When we do so, we become our character, deal with whatever our character encounters, gaining points or taking damage all based on our decisions and responses in the game, but we **don't think about anything else **. We are fully focused. And it's fun, and relaxing. Unless we make the mistake to assume, even here.. when we die in the game because we assumed we could take on an enemy that proved to be too strong for us, and we can't shrug it off and try again later, we once more create stress for ourselves. But most of us don't do that all that often, after all, it's just a game. <br />
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What we don't realize is that, once we start to master the art of seeing real life the exact same way, life becomes one heck of a lot easier. Once we learn how to deal with things when and if they happen, and not to assume they will turn out a certain way, we find the peace and the space to enjoy them fully as they are. <br />
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When I first started to learn meditation, I was told it was vital that during meditation, I did not think. "Empty your mind" as my teacher back then put it. And so I found myself sitting there, thinking constantly about that I wasn't allowed to think. Every time I did think (and basically, that was all the time) I hated myself for being such a bad student. Until I finally realized it was never going to work that way. It was Pema Chodron who taught me the real trick. Thoughts will come, even during deep meditation, and all we need to do is acknowledge them for what they are: just thoughts. Like gazing at the sea and watching ships go by.. a simple "hey, a ship" and then on with watching the water without shifting our focus to the ship. <br />
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The wonderful thing is that meditation isn't just the practise of sitting. We can be the observer in our own life, all the time. To me, that is what the Buddha mind really is. Observing, but not detached. Feeling all the joy and all the pain of whatever it is, this meat puppet we refer to as "I", walking the face of the earth is going through. Just acknowledging it for what it is without losing focus and balance. And applying the principle of not assuming, for this is the true source of compassion. Once you can stop expecting people to act a certain way towards you and just accept them as they are, a tremendous source of compassion is found. You cannot be hurt by other people's behavior if you choose to accept them as they are and not let it influence you. <br />
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Does that mean we have to become doormats and let people walk all over us? Well no. We also have a choice in deciding who we want to be a part of our life. The paradox here is that sometimes, people we don't get along with, are a major source of growth. The saying "what doesn't kill us, makes us stronger" has proven to be very true for me, many times thorughout my life so far. <br />
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In the end, whatever comes our way is there for a reason. And all we have to do is to stop assuming and to just experience life as it comes, here, and now. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-72348415026993078932010-06-07T15:14:00.000-07:002010-07-02T01:25:17.435-07:00I believe.. nothingThe question has been asked so many times. "Just what do you believe in?" It is a question I have asked myself, often enough. And the answer has changed, many times, along the way. It even changes depending on who is asking, and in what context. But ultimately, I think only one answer is 100% accurate. I believe nothing. Because to every belief I have that I always thought was rock solid, there are circumstances which I know will make me change my point of view. Take "killing is wrong", for instance. I do believe that, at the bottom of my core. I am actually a type that will go through great trouble to put a spider I find inside the house outside, rather than just killing it. And yet, if someone threatened to harm my children, or take my life.. or if killing was the merciful thing to do, to end tremendous suffering.. I know I could, and quite likely would, kill. Religion is another example. Do I believe there is a divine being ruling us all? No. Yet, I speak of the Goddess, the One I am sworn to serve, since many a lifetime, and for many a lifetime to come. Ahh.. so here's something I do believe in.. reincarnation, right? No. I can honestly say that when I die, and it turns out there is nothing beyond death, I will not be disappointed in any way. I will still know I did the best I could, during the time I had. Okay. Think. Do I believe in me? Hmm. Not beyond the point where I try to make the best of each moment, making the best choice I can, during that moment. If afterwards that choice turns out to make me less happy, I'll choose differently under similar circumstances, the next time. The Dalai Lama was right; "if you lose.. don't lose the lesson". Ah, waidaminute.. so I do believe in growth, in evolving into a better person? Truly a worthy cause to live for. But the truth is.. I don't really believe in that, either. I see it happen, but I don't take it as a given, and I'll fully accept it if it doesn't happen, for whatever reason. All I really know for sure is that I am. Not even the here and now are rock solid, because what is time anyhow, and place is a relative thing. if my body is sitting here, and I'm thinking about someone far away.. just where am "I"? Who is this "I" person anyhow? Is she my body? My mind? My soul? Am I a callcenter employee? a mother? A freelance consultant? a writer? an artist? a fantasy maybe, or a nightmare, depending on who you ask? The funny thing with this type of soul searching is that, the more you think, the less you know. Which might seem to be a scary thought, but it's not really. I think that, once you give up the concept that things need to be either this or that, and simply accept that today's vision may be tomorrows failure, or triumph, or both at the same time, you find tremendous freedom, and peace. To quote Forrest Gump: "Life is a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get". But it is in this absolute uncertainty, this fluidity in thinking and expextations, as well as in truly seeing every choice, every challenge, and every waking breath as a chocolate, something to enjoy and savour.. that true happiness is found.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-290011459046640614.post-19865690877585265742010-06-05T13:22:00.000-07:002010-07-02T01:25:17.456-07:00Man with no legs and arms - Inspiring story<object style="background-image:url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/nQPmY4nIjVE/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nQPmY4nIjVE&hl=nl_NL&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nQPmY4nIjVE&hl=nl_NL&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0