Happy new year, 2019

First of all: HAPPY NEW YEAR!

And to you who read this: Thank you. Thank you for stopping by and read what I write.

It's close to midnight January 7, 2019. Already week 2, and it is clear I failed my resolutions with splendour this year as well.
I didn't do too good, before I went to bed on new year's eve I had already failed on at least three of my resolutions by watching a movie with my son, eating crisps, at 5am. Before I went to bed that is.
It was a nice bonding moment, but not good for sleeping habits, nor was it good for my plan of eating more healthy and less calories. By the time I should have gotten up, I went to bed, and missed out on percious me-time.

So another year was completed in history, another year was welcomed by bringing bad habits into the future.
New Year's Eve is always a day filled with serious thoughts. The year which passed by... How did I spend my time? Did I bring joy to anyone? Did I hurt anyone with my words? What did I do? What didn't I do? What should I have done?
The last day of the year is like an annual report on me to myself. Maybe not the best reference, but nevertheless food for thoughts.


2018 was a good year filled with really good experiences, celebrations, moments and days with family and friends. I cherish the ones I get to keep, and mourne those I have lost.
I have found joy in things my friends on social media have shared of their lives, art, photos, quotes and handcrafts. Stories and pictures from travels and everyday life. Discussions, both trivial wordings and more profound controversies. There is a silent satisfaction in knowing we can disagree and still be friends.

The year has given us sobering news and events from all corners. Disasters, war, misery and other alarming states we have inflicted on ourselves. I try to do my part when it comes to environment, but there is always a doubt in the back of my head: "Does it even matter?" We try to look away as we say someone else is to blame, but the truth has a way to make eyecontact, and I know that it all starts with us, not the politicians or important leaders of multi national companies. I am responsible for behaving in a manner which will make my world a better place. I am the one who needs to spend less, consume less and make sure my plastic and cans are disposed in a safe manner and not in the sea or the mountain.

Why must people fight and create war? Noone lives forever, what drives some to spend that measured time on finding enemies and inflict as much hurt as possible? What makes people capable of crushing people, cities, historic sites which has been standing for a thousand year? When did we lose the respect and knowledge of history?

The last of the year makes me think thoughts I wish I didn't feel I have to think. And yet, my thoughts wander and makes me look forward, to the future, and hopes and beliefs of new beginnings and other possibilities.

My hope for the New Year:
“For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge you’ll never walk alone.
We leave you a tradition with a future.
The tender loving care of human beings will never become obsolete.
People even more than things have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed and redeemed and redeemed.
Never throw out anybody." ~ Sam Levensen


HAPPY NEW YEAR, I HOPE IT WILL BE YOUR BEST YEAR YET!

Michael Jackson - Man In The Mirror (Official Video)

Something to think about.

communicating and confirm relationships

It has happened that I, during a conversation, fall into thoughts about what it is we really speak about. It's a lot like:
- Do we speak? I mean; really speak to one another?
- Yes, of course! What is it you want to say?
- I know we hear eachother talking, but do we really listen? Do we answer to the questions we are afraid to address? Or do we dismiss them as insignificant, because it is more comfortable?

In all the relationships we keep, and claim we nurture, there has to be trust that the other one will never intetionally hurt us, or expose our weak moments.
It's a lot like marriage; both partners have that need for security: the undisputable guarantee of time set aside, acceptance, of love…especially from one another.

Psychological abuse is just that: exposure of our weak moments... whether it's feelings we thought we once had, or traits, and then taking advantage of them to break the other person into dysfunctional dependency. It's just plain cruel.

We need to know we have worth as individuals; that our lives as a man or  as a woman count for something, that there is a purpose for our existence, that we are significant and a pillar for our relationship. Not just our role or function, but that we count and are important to eachother.
And to have that, you need to listen. You need to take an interest in your partner or friend.

I have heard men and women explain the failure in fidelity by saying: "It didn't mean anything!"
I don't think people who say that fathom the second betrayal they commit the instant those words are uttered. By admitting to breaking the trust, for something they discard that easily; as not important, is really harsh.
(Unless the agreement of an open relationship is settled, of course). Fidelity is the core in a couple's synergy. Which means you break out by doing something insignificant, when it is obvious to everybody you should have known that to the other person it means everything. You just didn't listen and understand.

I have heard people say that it wasn't the cheating itself, in the physical sense, which was the worst. What really bothered them, to the extent of breakdown, was the thought of the pillowtalk. The risk they have been exposed. 
You know... the conversation that happens after, or before, being intimate. It's infinitely better than normal conversation because there's touching involved. There is presence.
And what lies in the nature of pillowtalk is the life-support system of the strong and unshakable relationship we desire to a partner.

But how do we affirm true connection to one another?
I would say the sure confirmation is when you bother talking to eachother. By listening. By caring enough to communicate.
After all we communicate in so many different ways. Sometimes with a look and other times with a touch. Yet in our relationships, there need to be words. We need to hear each other’s voice, what the other is thinking, feeling, dealing with, dreaming of.

True connection also include disagreement and arguing, not fighting, but to feel safe when you speak up and state your mind. To feel it is ok to have different opinions.

I told a friend that I tell the people I love I love them. He just looked at me with a blank gaze, then shook his head and said "the people I love know, without me saying". I'm not convinced we do.

The way we communicate with one another can make a difference. Relationships differ; Some are strong, some weak, some have  joy and others have pain, some are blessed with good health and wholeness, some bear nothing than destruction.
The thing is: communication can ease hurt, and enforce happiness.

It is all in the art of communication, and it literally permeates every aspect of a relationship.
Maybe one of us loves to talk, while the other is quieter. However, because healthy communication is critical to our relationship, we need to do whatever it takes to learn to communicate in an effective way. Nothing else shows more clearly that we truly care for and value our loved one above ourselves. It doesn't cost a lot to say hello and smile. It is easy to just stroke an arm or a back as you pass by. Easy to do and important signs you care and know the other person is there.

We need to learn to listen to one another: to allow and encourage honesty, openness, vulnerability. To exchange thoughts, ideas, hopes, dreams, fears, and failures with one another in such a way that we break even and share life without fear of rejection and judgment. Then you can truly claim you have a true and healthy relationship.

Slander; an ongoing story

Lately I have found myself trying really hard not to remember my days as a student, from middle school through high school. I didn't mind my teachers, but I can't remember I, at any given time, was given extra attention, either. I did well in school, and the extra exercises just kept coming my way. I remember both my teachers and the extra work very well.

I thought I had friends, not many, but I thought at least a few liked me. Now that I am an adult I fully understand how mean the other kids were. Never in an obvious or physical manner,
even though I did get into a fist fight with a boy I thought was my best friend.

I remember being tough and calling him a silly name trying to punch him in his stomach, but when he couldn't see me anymore I cried.

Somehow I think the teachers knew, they just didn't know what to do. I never got into any 
trouble for standing up for myself, even in desperate ways.

One time we had a party at school for 5th and 6th grade. We were 18 students in total. Only two of us were an audience when the other 16 gave a performance miming with playback, to one BoneyM hit after another.

I remember middle school being confusing, and hard. My life was challenging to begin with, the talking behind my back, their planning parties in secret and then let me know in detail after, the grown ups' indiscressions... it was all more convenient to ignore.

Some time in my late teens I tried to go see the worst rumormonger as much as possible, hoping it would limit her. It didn't. It got worse. On New Years Eve, she invited a lot of friends for dinner, and I was supposed to show up after they had finished eating. Unfortunately dinner wasn't finished on time, and I arrived in the middle of their dessert.I remember being blamed for ruining their meal. I just didn't know I wasn't really invited for the party.

There was this understanding between them to operate on the fine line between friendship and excluding me from the special events.

One time the conductor for the tensing choir introduced a new song. He played the song "Love of another kind" by Amy Grant, then asked who was brave enough to be lead singer. I was pushed forward, and I heard them giggle. So I decided not to make a scene, but to prove them wrong. And I did.

I have recordings, and know I am right when I say I did a good job.

Every day I am grateful we moved away and let our children grow up surrounded by nontoxic people. Even though it was work situation which caused the move, it was a blessing. I was so nervous thinking about my oldest son maybe should go to the same school I did, I often felt trapped, just like I did when growing up.

I can't remember anybody ever asking me if I was ok, if I felt sad, or if I needed anything. They never encouraged me... they weren't up front and told me not to bother them again, either. Guess they needed me to blame, perhaps. Or for conversation material.

As we all grew older and called ourselves adults, one should think the story would end. It didn't.

I was chairman of the board in a kindergarden, and had to tell one of the staff (who happened to own the facility) she could not arrange a party in the kindergarden serving alcohol, but she could arrange a party in her private basement (yes, same location) after working hours.

I felt like such an idiot after, when I was told I was petty and jealous, just because I was the only woman between 20 and 30 in the village not invited.

Eventually I stopped trying and just accepted they didn't want me there. I did both them and myself a huge favour getting out of there. Moving to a place with true people, who accept you are what you are, and you do what you do, and you are still worth getting to know.

I have a lot of issues, but I realize more and more how I am not the only one.

My friend (yes, I have a friend I trust) says it is funny we became such good friends, because during the first three years of our friendship I never shared anything personal with her. She didn't know anything significant about me, and that is what she took to in me, because that is what she is like too.

We both have issues from decades back.
So, getting older, mature and work for years and years in your field of profession as teacher, nurse, AD, secretary or.... or.... whatever profession you may think of, one should think the story ends, right?

It doesn't.

When I go to see my parents in the village where I grew up, nobody greets me or stop to chat or catch up. It's like the notion of exaggerated rumors and talking behind my back hovers over me like a dark cloud of guilty silence.

A couple of months ago, my husband received a message on messenger. The message was (translated): "Could you tell her we are having a reunion? 30 years since we completed secondary school. (The name of a different classmate) is arranging the event."

I thought I had forgiven and forgotten. But getting this message from my husband made it all come back to me. I have forgiven. Nobody asked my forgiveness, but to me it was important not to let hurt feelings run my life... and yet they do. The insecurity and hurt I remember from back then, rushed over me before he had even read the message through.

I can't say I felt invited. I felt as if he was told to inform me they were having a reunion.

He replied by sending her a message giving my contact information.

A few weeks ago, my husband received another message saying: "The reunion will be September 24. Enlist ASAP."

No information on to whom or how to give notice.

I still don't feel invited... perhaps even less now that I know they have my contact information.

There is no attempt to get in touch with me. There is no hint I will be welcome if I go.

If anything, it feels worse now, because this time they know what they do. This time there is no question about the deliberate thought behind their way of conduct: They chose to not contact me or really invite me, in spite they have no clue who I am, how I am or what I am today.

I will never know the extent of the stories and characteristics given of me. I can only speculate, but I know some, and that some is more than enough.

It's like a snowball impossible to slow down or crush, because it feeds off how words and stories catch the next even more scandalous one.


Then again: remember this is my side to the story. This is how my memory brings back thoughts on my past.

Maybe I was the terrible one, the one impossible to talk to or go on trips with.

Regardless my flaws: feelings can not be argued, because they are real. Your hurt and misery can not be disputed.

The nights I stayed awake, or cried myself to sleep, they happened.

And some day, maybe, I will be as strong about this as I am about everything else in life. I will do what I today do on behalf of others and confront them. Ask them what I did wrong.

But not this reunion.

This time I was caught off guard. I forgive, but won't forget. And I will be prepared and ready.

Maybe it turns out silence is the best defence and payback after all.
Or maybe I should just write about it.

Letting myself down is tough.

I have become who I definitely would never be. It is so annoying. Not only have I turned out to be someone I dislike, I also failed to mould myself into a perfect triumph. You know, maybe not perfect, but perfect for.... well, me.

There was this plan, in my head I would be different from what I was forced by circumstances to be when I was young.

As an adult I would be bold, wild, vast and free, and because I had the choice to be all that, I would be happy with where I at all times were.

That is not at all how I turned out to be. Maybe I was before, maybe I'll be again, but right now I am just discontent and ungrateful. Oh, I felt my eyes twitching right now.

I sulk over whatever I find unpleasant in my life. I accept being a pathetic shadow of who I deep down believe I am.

In spite of knowing this I don't deal with my present, I ignore my hidden resources. I don't ignore and raise above the trifle hickups which serve as pebbles in my shoes. I don't face up to, or do anything constructive to make me capable to gather enough energy to turn my grumpyness around.

The sad part of it all is that to blame everything and everybody other than myself is like an instinct in me when I am frustrated. My best defence and excuse is to acquit myself.

Of course I know that at the end of the day my discontent is nobody else's fault but my own, but I don't like to recognize my own failures. Maybe I have too many, maybe I would be overwhelmed by my shortcomings, maybe I just happen to like living in a bubble of artificial selfconfidence: "It's not me, it's you!"

I would have to do some admissions and introspections to change my mood and point of view, which I'm not ready to do, yet.

Instead of admitting to I should show more engagement, initiative and interest, I wrap myself in self pity and rest my case in blaming uncontrolled circumstances.

That's really not who I am. I know what made me like this, and yet I avoid taking grip of my life.

Steve Harvey has repeatedly stated that to be successful you need to jump.

When you jump, you take a leap of faith, and place yourself into that insecure state of "the unknown".

It's been too long since I acted or placed myself out of my comfort zone. I used to be good at it when I was younger.

Now I have too many good reasons to stay where I am at.

I am aware of the fact that inside the comfort zone nothing happens; we deal with same old because we know what we have, but not what we might have.

The minute you do something out of normal, something extra ordinary will happen. Funny thing about extra ordinary: it's usually very good! Extra ordinary brings something new and by that also the possibility to adjust to a better situation. Yet, I (like most others) still try to avoid it.

I used to think that each their own forger of a good life. To be honest: I still believe that is true, but back then my strongest characteristic was to be creative.
My life was veiled in colours, sounds, actions and design. Hah, as induvidual and free I would like to call my past self, I was the typical, average creative person. Such an oxymoron, isn't it; to put creativity traits in a box.

Today, after pondering on my own discontent, I realized something important: I gave in a while back. Some time along the way I settled for good enough, rather than chasing my dreams. I suppressed a lot of my creativity blaming the stress mess I was caught in.

I am a quiet, calm person. It doesn't mean I'm not opinionated. I used to be a champ at achieving my goals.

By that I mean I thought I was chasing and achieving my goals.

What I was really doing was getting an education, a lot of it! I took so many degrees nobody will hire me now. I am too qualified, with tons of formal qualifications, tons and tons of prior learning experience, but no formal leader experience documented on paper. Still, I have the skills, habits and conduct of a leader.
I am too educated to be employed as a teacher in a new school now; I am too expencive. I am stuck where I work today. How pathetic is that?

The minute I got a family of my own, my goal was to create a happy and safe home for my family.
I went to the extremes and even planned what to do to maintain my kids' lifestyle and standard if my husband died. And I planned how my passing away will not affect their way of life too much.

Growing up I learned nobody must know. Some secrets you keep, so that others can have dignity and pride. If I was on top of things, I could prevent bad things to happen to others.

I did the expected thing and created a solid home for my family, while covering every possible outcome of disaster.

Now a lot of people are no longer part of, or even in, my life. In addition my young ones are more independent than they were. I have been a toddler's mom for 19 years. Getting used to I am not needed as much anymore, is hard to do.

A silent major change has taken place, and I didn't pay attention. Instead of becoming a freer person, I find myself in a position where I confuse opportunities lost with opportunities found.

The funny thing is: everybody else in my circle are really content. They really appreciate having the opportunity to choose freely what they want to make of themselves, and what to do.

So why am I stuck in the habit of limiting myself? Why do I feel my interests, wants and needs are not important enough to pursue?

My pondering made me realize that it's not reality which keeps me in a state of thinking how my actions will affect others in bad ways. There are no reasons why me changing focus should in any way give other people a hard time.

In my mind I create discussions on weather or not I should do something; if it is safe or not to change something because it would feel, look or perhaps work better. Often it's a matter of improving things, not repair them because they need fixing.

It's in many ways the same procedure I go through when it comes to throw something away; I deal with each item and detail as if it is of major importance, even though I deep down it isn't. The urge to keep, just in case I maybe need it some time in the future, is strong and inherited from my mother. (Yes, I blame her. She grew up during the war, and knows how to make use of what you have, and then recycle.) I know this, and yet it is so hard to ignore the voices telling me to keep it, keep it!

One of my all time wants, is to travel. I don't feel I get to travel and explore new places the way I want. Our family vacations tend to be a lot about amusement parks, water parks and beaches. Not my favourite cup of tea.
I would rather walk through an unknown village, discovering their ways and style. I would like to walk through a museum in my own pace and noone to call my name or tug my sleeve. I want to not eat at McDonald's. I want to sip to a glass of white wine, while watching people and reading a book.

By the time I have thought through my reasons why I should go for a long weekend by myself, and the importunate, more pressing reasons why I shouldn't, my kids have picked up on my intensions and tell me they want to go too, because there is a football match they really want to see live. And I feel awful about letting them down, leaving them or for some other reason start to doubt it is a good idea for me to go on a sole journey.

I know I think all this, and I know I am wrong. I am certain my family would really understand and condone my modest weekend of self fulfillment.

It's hard to be a loser. You get to the point when you expect to face another failure. I think maybe it's time I stop letting myself down.
Then, being a grumpy, old woman would be something I was in the past, and I would be the happy woman, in the best of ages, I truly am.

Change

Change. It's a mighty word when you think about it; ever so easy to say but you need to put thoughts, effort and consistency into it to make it last.
Funny isn't it, to make change last; it's such an oxymoron just to say that, and yet it is true.

It's much like love, in that respect. We tend to love this and that all the time, and the bar is low; we love chocolate, we love the beach, we love potatoes, we love our family (most of the time)... At the end of the day it turns out that the minute we involve somebody else in our love circle, love becomes more complicated. Then love imply some sort of obligation, commitment and conditions.
To put it short: When you love somebody else, and no longer just yourself and your own likings, and you appreciate others, you need to make changes to maintain that love.

Anyway. We experience small changes and bigger changes, they all have in common that changes make things different.
The reason we want changes is, after all, we are not completely happy about the way things are, so different must be good then, right?
I am not quite convinced, because I myself have things I would like to change in my life, but... and there is a huge but: There is a reason why things are how they are. There is a reason why I don't find everything in my life perfect: after everything is said and done, after all my excuses for not having made things better, the reason why days go by the same manner they have is that I am stuck in a comfort zone. And that is a good, safe place to be.

I need  a few changes in my life. Funny I think that, because I have found people are less demanding than I think they are. But the changes I want are more about the fact that I feel I do what I think other people expect me to do, rather than doing what I want to do.

Women have this pressure they think they are supposed to want more, that they should want better and have higher standards. Just look at the magazines written for women: they are written to your future, perfect you.
"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans" ~John Lennon~
Still true, I think. We plan for the future, and not for here and now, and what we did plan for now is forgotten in the chanse for what will be next, so we chase for the future and don't stop to think.

I made a few searches online, go get some inspiration on how to make changes happen.
They write boldly about how it is you and how you are which is important, and then, by the flip of a coin they continue by telling you to change your looks, get fit, and eat healthy. Changing turns out to always become a quest for fitting into a norm. A standard set by strangers, who couldn't care less about you as an individual.

That's just it, isn't it? You should look at where you are, because where ever you are is where you are at. And if where you are at, is not where you want to be, then you need to think carefully and find out where you want to be in life.

Life brings you blessings, but it also hits hard. One blow after another makes you feel trapped in changes you had no saying in. And those changes are so very hard to deal with. It's like they put you off from taking part in the adventures which could have been. These changes are bad, because when we don't know what to do we tend to do the wrong thing. The urge to act then and there is so intrusive we see them as problems which have to be solved rather than opportunities to do the unexpected but right thing.

But then, on those rare occasions, you experience timing so perfect it's hard not to believe it was meant to be.

At the end of the comfort zone is where changes, and life, happen.
Another thing I found online is that as soon as somebody brings up changes, they talk about it as if you live in a bubble where only you exist. They make it all about you, your needs and you spending money to make things change.

Real life isn't like that. For most of us being that selfish is bad.
Most of us have people in our lives which we are accountable to. We can't just sign out and disregard people in our life. We all have people we care for, love and are responsible for.
They don't drop everything to watch you find yourself.

So, is it impossible to change? To make things, life, different?
No, but you have to find out where you are now, who is there with you, and then look at your goal and find those small twists worth the while, because they will give you the pleasure of stop feeling the pain from all the memories and emotions you were deprived of.

Maybe your twist is start drinking water instead of soft drinks. maybe it is writing job applications (the hardest part about that is preparing yourself to the possebility you might have to leave your coworkers and find your role at another workplace) and send them off. Maybe your twist is to walk or bicycle to work or school. maybe it is getting up an hour early and swim in the morning, or join cooking classes. Not just to get fit or anything, but more to break out and see new, friendly faces. Then you control the change in your life.

We should not fear changes. Those inflicted upon us are opportunities, those we make happen are spending the moment doing something now to move along.

Change should not be a lot of hard work. Better never is. It is the beginning of another wanted adventure.