I used to get the best answers to any questions...

The Beauty of (Old) Age... or whatever he said.

"Old age is no place for sissies."

It is a well known fact that I am not good, at all, at using public transportation. I very seldom take the bus. That only happens like.... ones in a blue moon. My car was otherwise engaged, and I was planning on having a glass of wine, so the other day I took the bus. Quite pleasant, actually, I have to say. All of us passengers sat there with each our own mobile, shuffling away on the screen.

As I was preoccupied giving the impression I was consentrating doing something important, the bus made a stop.
I only sensed it as she sat down next to me. The smell of synthetic strawberry hit me, and I could hear her chewing. Eagerly.

She sat there, next to me, on the bus and smelled like chewing gum, 15-16-years old, perhaps. A sorry attempt on adding years using heavy make up. I am sure bouncers have fallen for it before. Maybe a false ID has backed up her lie.

I smiled at her, but as I took in her appearance I hid my smile so she wouldn't see it change. Smiling to myself I thought about how her youth was given away by her roundish cheeks, nervous hands pulling at the sleeves, the nailpolish lumpy from the too slow and careful brushstrokes. Her entire being was oozing from puberty. No eyeliner in the world can change that. Nor can a miracle bra.

There is a spark in young people, an excitement at the threshold of adulthood, yet holding a contempt for maturity.
The want to do it myself, which has been inherent ever since able to pull oneself up and stand on their own is still strong. They have not yet realized, let alone experienced, we were always there to catch them and comfort when they fell.

I am turning 44 next month. My youth has passed, I have been an adult for the longest of times. And I am well on my way into maturity. I am mature enough to realize I have been overweight for almost half my life. It will not disappear just because I want it to. I just have to want to lose weight bad enough to do something about it.

The young girl next to me knows nothing about the everyday struggles the future holds in store for her. She can still charme her way through life, without being scarred.

You need to have a heart as cold as stone not to be charmed by youth. The problem is: charme is about all there is.
Charme is a breath of freshness, but over time it really isn't very entertaining. It takes a lot of work listening to, and watch. It drains me of my still fragile, earned virtues, which my beginning maturity has granted me.
I would much rather be trapped in an elevator with someone old with personality.

I am ageing. I am losing muscles, subcutaneous fat and firmness. My body is decaying, regardless how well I ignore the fact. I have become more polished and my edges are not as sharp as they used to be. I have now endurance, stamina rather than speed, I have the ability to focus. And so my expressions of emotions are not as outgoing as they perhaps, once upon a time, were.

But then, age has brought me something I cherish a lot more than all of my lost features put together: complexity. I have more strings to play, more facets to show and shine from. I recognize and embrace more feelings and emotions in both myself and others. I am more forgiving. I know how to take people for what they are without taking it personal. I can be generous, with myself, my time, my resources without expecting anything in return.
There is a depth I find in myself, which I didn't have before, but which now vibrate with intensity through my entire person.
This is what makes maturity and age so much more exciting than youth, but you need to reach the stage yourself before you can really appreciate it.

And since I believe that, it is ever so annoying that this young kiddo, Ashton Kutcher, said it this well:

Word has it being busy is not a requirement.

I love words. I memorize and collect them. Still have to admit I'm not very good at using them, but I keep them, kind of savour their meaning and look for a perfect opportunity to really let the word carry the importance of my statement. I never really have that moment. Just like Meg Ryan in the movie "You Got Mail" from 1998, I come up with beautiful and eloquent replies which could have made even Shakespeare weep with admiration. Not untill both the moment and the person has long left, though. Doesn't do me much good then.

Being this balmy and corky has, of course, a lot of downsides to it. I read and hear use of language which make me burst into unintentional giggles, totally inappropriate, of course, and yet unintentional puns created by poor knowledge of language is very funny. Most likely this is a personality flaw created over time and related to occupational hazard.
I am the one likely to put up additional signs to emphasize what is wrong in a statement (This is
also how I often correct papers my students hand in... seems like as if they then get it, rather than me talking about lack of prepositions.)

Unfortunate sentences and use of the wrong word is one thing, we all still get what is meant, even though most people say expresso, instead of espresso.

Words changes meaning too. I still like to think that being gay is to be merry and cheerful. However, sometime back it turned into a sexual preference... and therefor also, I am sorry to say, an invective. There are numerous examples like that. Not only do I risk making a total laugh out of myself as soon as I open my mouth, it is also very confusing.
I have no idea why totally good and solid words with long linguistic traditions should suddenly be something totally different. I don't even understand how that can happen? How do you "plant" and reprogram a word in an entire same-language-speakers' community... let alone world? How is it done?

What whizard performed the consulting? and who acted as communications advisor?
Very cleverly done! I don't like what you did, but it was a master plan executed to perfection.

There is maybe one other thing I dislike even more about today's common use of language: I don't like how some words are being used to make yourself look better and your conduct more presentable.

An example on that is the word "busy". It is such a worn out word, and it's lost its meaning. I mean; I some times claim I'm in a stress mess, but I don't regard that to be the same thing as being busy. Not anymore. Not after I discovered how some people abuse the term.

To be busy has become an excuse which allows you to get away from anything:
I can't talk, I am busy.
I can't do that now, I'm busy.
I don't have time, I'm busy.
I'm sorry, I can't come, I'm busy.
And you know what? We respect being busy so much, that any further explanation is neither asked about, nor offered.

Some people are so busy it makes my head spin. It must be so hard to recognize  one's own thoughts when all the doings and appointments clash into a cacophony of busyness. There is a LOT of activity, but in all honesty there really isn't all that much action. Or...?

It makes me feel stressed out, and some times I struggle and feel guilty because of the way I feel and think about other people. You know, those unwelcome comments which whisper to you inside your head: "Why does she say on the phone she is busy? We are drinking coffee, for crying out loud!" And then it strikes me: she is busy because she spends her time on me.  At the end of the day there is a chance she does hurry, it's just that she doesn't rush.

To make days add up it's almost a demand to be on top and keep an overview of what happens to, and around, each and every family member. And then comes the feeling of being overworked and overwhelmed by the demands at work and at home.
You may be able to work a few 60-hour weeks, but eventually you will be so burnt out that you lose the ability to be creative and innovative. Without that you have no joy or pleasure left in what you are doing.

Holding on by my fingernails through every day, trying to work crazy hours, not only being good at what I do, but strife for great and amazing. Then at home I try to be supermom baking homebaked cakes and cupcakes and cookies, staying up untill 2am to get bakeries done and planning tomorrow and grading papers.

And yet; even though I work as if though my hair is on fire I feel like nothing gets done, ever. The feeling of being unproductive and inadequate is always present.
I have bought into the culture of busy.

We hustle and buffle and create a lot of drama and draw attention to everything we have to do.
And yes, we all claim to be busy with conviction, but do we really do it all?

Yes, I do struggle making days and things add up. But in all honesty: When I listen to what I'm saying and see what I actually do; things are not quite as it seems.

I am not remotely as busy as people think.
Half of it all just doesn't get done. If noone is crying, noone or nothing smells bad, and we are both full and warm enough, I am at peace with the state of things.

It's about time I stop bragging about how busy I am.
The busyness we claim to be a victim of isn't really being busy, most times it is an expression to illustrate the list of options we choose from.
Is it fair to say that we suffer more from having to prioritize, than actually do a whole lot on limited time?

I choose not to be busy. It doesn't mean I don't have a lot to do all the time: for example kids to drop off, bring, help, listen to... but I, as an adult, can choose not to define that as being busy: I can define it as being present.


Yeaah.... I fell for this one. And yes, I spent at least 40 seconds.

When emotions roar in public

Ever so often I find myself impressed by people who speak up and bother to argue, discuss, dispute and otherwise make their point of view come across and be heard. I hardly ever do that, simply because I am not very good at talking. In addition, I am terrible at remembering numbers and dates. Oh, I remember the incidents and stories, but I often feel my own credibility is harmed by the lack of precise facts.

There are many people who seem to have strong opinions on causes they feel are unjust. Often I admire the involvement, but fail to see the logic or the knowledge which is put to ground for their point of view. Not that I am the sharpest knife in the drawer and know it all, but I do listen to what people say, and I do observe their actions.

We have many causes and situations which call for humanitarian support and change for the better. The list on unjust and cruelty happening around the world is almost never ending. So many to choose from, and yet I can’t think of any other trouble, conflict, war or unjust which rises even remotely as strong emotions as the conflict in the Middle East. We had a brief storm of "Bring back our girls", which is really terrible, and still an ongoing situation, but strange as it may seem: no other conflict makes people involved to the same degree as the Middle East. 

Pop superstar Rihanna posted a "#FreePalestine" tweet two weeks ago, but quickly deleted the post just eight minutes later, replacing it with the more neutral "Let's pray for peace and a swift end to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict! Is there any hope?..." I can only imagine how her manager broke a sweat and stirred up frantic activity for a split minute there.

Yesterday, on July 28, One Direction singer Zayn Malik tweeted “#Free Palestine”. His tweet garnered over 190,000 favourites, 190,000 re-tweets and hundreds of responses from fans ranging from support to disappointment to death threats.

It has become more of a fashionable thing to do to announce support like this, but I don't think they understand how they continuously stir up strong emotions. Emotions which by the blink of an eye turn into hateful attacks when those who reply run out of good points. Recently we have also seen how demonstrations around the world, initially peaceful and a great way to demonstrate freedom of speech, escalate into violent street fights. Leaving behind hurt and ruins. And a lot of those who get affected don’t even know why, or for what reason.

I am not convinced it is genuine interest or knowledge behind the slogans, the “like and share”, the supportive sms’es or the demonstrations. But I find it really hard to understand what kind of agenda a tweet like the one posted by these two artists has. It’s not like as if it’s a secret that sticking your neck out is a risky thing to do. And any uttering containing “Israel” or “Palestine” these days is a sure way to get swept up and carried away in a storm of bad breath, spitting, fuming and four-letter wordings.

I was determined not to express my opinion on the Middle East situation. I was determined to stay coward and let others flog each other with harsh words. I managed to keep my thoughts to myself for maybe a couple of days.

I strongly believe that words have a meaning; that they lead to thoughts and actions. The last few weeks have proven my belief truthful.

When I was a student, we were taught at school that everything in the newspapers is the truth. The truth is the main purpose of a newspaper, because it sets today’s agenda. That’s why it’s called the 4th branch of government. Whatever the media writes or talks about is topics we include in our everyday interaction with one another. We pick up the talk of today, and we talk the talk and get engaged. Some times we even walk the talk.

A couple of days ago one of Norway’s most prominent foreign reporters, at an event in Trondheim, was asked by a dean if he believes in justice. The reporter answered “no”. He explained by saying that I do not believe we are capable to make this world fair. There is too much evil. My task is to tell about the innocent ones who suffer. There is no such thing as objective journalism.

I do wish I didn’t, but to a large extent I agree. Not only is it a challenge to choose the right words, but there is also such a thing as “who’s truth is the most true”. I sincerely hope it isn’t the number of viewers, readers or print copies which determines which topics, and how, they are presented to the masses. Don’t get me wrong: I see the possibilities a certain angle has to create sensational headlines, which sell and thereby increase profit and secure the source of information a future. But… that would be too much like running a newspaper for the sole reason to keep journalists in work. Something which would be just stupid, right?

So why is the Middle East so important? What is it about this tiny spot on the face of the earth, which causes normally peaceful and calm people to express hatred towards people they don’t know? I have to say I don’t really know, but I do know that many make up their mind about which side they sympathize with, without really knowing what the conflict is really about. Strong feelings are stirred to such a degree it seems like they use the cause as an excuse to be abusive towards one another.

About two years ago, I wrote a blog posting I called “How To Speak Up”. I chose to write about a clip I found on youtube, which really and profoundly disturbed me. We also have women like Malala Yousafzai, the brave young Pakistani girl who fought for the right to be educated and nearly lost her life for the cause. She was shot in the head while riding the bus home from school. When she was well enough, she kept on fighting her battle. Being brave and never tried to be bigger by putting others down.

I live such a comfortable life it is hard to imagine what it is like to live a life permeated with danger and total comprehensive fear. I am not so sure that I would do what I constantly claim I would do: never to let threats and random violence put any restrictions on my everyday life and lifestyle, simply because that would mean the wrong side won.

I have the utmost respect for those who write well enough and talk well enough to feel they present their point of view in respectful manners. Much like this 18-year old, who argues by using his knowledge rather than abusive language and violence. 

I am afraid this article, “Top Secret Hamas Command Bunker in Gaza Revealed And why reporters won’t talk about it”, holds a lot of truth, the kind of truth which is true regardless of which angle you see the case from. It says that: “It might be hard to believe the Israelis, the simple logic might run, since they obviously have an investment in arguing that Hamas is using hospitals and schools as human shields”.  Meaning that if we disagree to begin with, any argument made by the other side, will be questioned and regarded as speculative, simply because by saying it they build their own case. And if you do that, you have an vicarious reason to say what you say, so you lose your credibility either way.

Yeah, I know, and it is so annoying: It is confusing and frustrating. Truth and the way we see the world may not be what we have decided it should be. Reason plays no part anymore, at least not to the same degree it did before.

I think that a lot of women have said quite a few really smart things about the conflict. Like Hillary Clinton, on The Daily Show.
But I think Douglas Murray says it very well too:

Douglas Murray on bigoted global anti Israel animosity