Hello World

 Hello world.

I once used to live there too, where you are now. 

Fond memories of dancing in your squares, now all empty. 

Getting drunk in your bars, now all closed. 

My first kiss in one of your parks, now filled with signs: keep your distance. 

I have traveled all over you, with friends or to go and see lovers who since have all moved.. to a screen. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.  

For now, all I can do is cherish the memories. And tell you that I truly, honestly

am sorry. 

Angel revisited

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. 

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. 

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. 

‎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. ‎

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 cylinder so I can move up and down inside of it. 

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. 

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." 

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. 

Facing the Abyss

About 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.

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?

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."

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.

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.

I am a willow tree

I am a willow tree

grown on the edge of land

where waters eat away my soil

and rivers groan and rage and boil

yet even so.. I stand

I am a willow tree

I may look bare, I weep

and bend my head in storm and rain

hiding my face and all it's pain

but my dignity.. I keep

I am a willow tree

They cut me and they take

my branches from me,  trim my head

but I still grow and bloom and spread

You will not

see me

break

On independance

She 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.

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.

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?"

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!

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.

Tea?

Lights out

It 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.

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.

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.

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.

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 supernova will take place and the rest of the material will condense into a black hole. 

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. 

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.
Thank you Mr. Williams, for having been a light in my life on many occasions. Here we go, one more time.

50

Two 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.