40 years in the desert

I can’t help of wondering if Moses never had any doubts?..

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I think that was what Moses did? Wandering around I assume until he found his promised land.

I can’t help of wondering if he never had any doubts? No one was ever upset with him? Wondering what he was doing? How did he handle that?

And the women what were they doing? Or thinking?

The persistence and the size of faith, that all must have required… so what are my comparably small little problems compared to all that?

Can I find the same strength as his to lead myself out of the suffering? This self-made prison our generation seem to have created around us.

Can I re-fine that set point in myself when I would wake up and get out of bed just for the fun of the day ahead of me? Re-connect with that joy and creativity?

Finding inner sparkle without sugar, caffeine, tobacco or whatever?

This is for me my real question – to trust in myself – in my faith in myself.

Like a small small light far away I can at least see it. No bonfire. But something small that is bright and shines. I know now my path is leading that way. That I eventually will emerge in it.

I can start healing by accepting myself. I don’t need to know anymore. I don’t need to control or protect or differentiate. Or maybe a little bit. The mother in me still wants to protect.

Maybe acceptance is protection? Having somebody’s back when they go out on the arena of life? Shielding anyone would be hindering them even going out there in the first place wouldn’t it?

OK, white flag to myself – both protection and tolerance includes some type separation between good and bad and puts myself in the middle being the ruler…undo.

Long day, but still here – 319 signals to go.

Image courtesy to Stoonn at www.freedigitalphotos.net

 

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Creative overflow striking

When we create we can laugh at our mistakes – we can see the trying meaning so much more than the to-be-or-not-to-be of a certain result. I don’t really…

So I used to have this label on me as the business strategist, but the more I am putting it to the side, the more feelings (which some days are really overwhelming) are flowing and, in the moments of renounced internal peace, big chunks of creativity.

It makes me happy. Creativity make me happy. Not just because I loose a bit connection with all worldly problems, but because it is fun. It is a space I love to be in.

When we are in that flow we are directly communicating with Universe and not always to conventional way. But who cares? It makes you feel energized, have faith and hope and problem solving becomes something funny and entertaining.

For me a lot of creative work has been associated with mastery. However as much as I love the satisfaction of mastering a particular skill or appreciate someone else’s ability and performance, I have come to see the gold in the process. And not just for professionals – for any one. What healing power it has. Mood changer it is. Initiator.

The best is – when we create we can laugh at our mistakes – we can see the trying meaning so much more than the to-be-or-not-to-be of a certain result. I don’t really get what happens between school and adulthood, but somehow everything tends to become very stale and stiff.

The big good or bad of a dualistic world. Being born Christian and raised accordingly it is sad to say that I have a feeling our so called Christian interpretations have been so misinterpreted and had such a horrible effect on society. Yes, I know there is a lot of good too, but this – about the good and the bad – the sinner and the saint – that is a misinterpretation that is man made up and only used to install power positions and separation.

It is inevitable to be thinking of the massacre in USA saying this… It is not just justice and fairness that comes to mind, but what do we actually do when, in reality, when law (or whatever legal threat is applicable in the related state) is out of the game?

I mean when people don’t care if they will die – nothing will stop them but changes in the consciousness – and how do we really genuinely have those?

In creativity we are equal. We may have different resources and be differently prepared, but in the moment we are all equal and we can all co-create for the better.

So maybe break the ice of separation by simply smiling – works even when we don’t speak the same language?

346 signals of joy to go.

Sad strokes

Crying on the inside. Crying over the known. The unknown. The old and the new. And just tired in the now. And then…

Today is the first day, of a week of tests, that my oldest is doing to enter University. All set and she is looking at schools abroad. At the same time the next one is planning a life in Asia…and what am I doing?

Me and the dogs. I get this is the time when my creativity is to blossom and I will have all time in the world doing all those things I never could as a young adult, but what were those things?

All I can remember was that I wanted my own family [and not anything like the one I had]. An international life, speaking several languages, learn film, politics and business…

…but the sad strokes of the upcoming solitude are already hitting me. How much fun we have had. Crazy stupid messy situations, that has become funny memories now.

I think of my mother too. How much of all this she is missing, when she didn’t have to. How scared and sad she must have been. How few of the things she planned we never did. Conversations never had.

But before that we have one more year all together and then me and the little one have at least another 4-5 years to camp together and do more crazy, messy, funny things.

Feelings are friends Doreen Virtue says. I am like a very old bottle starting to crack up, with the liquid zippering slowly down its sides. Still feeling primarily blocked and locked in.

Crying on the inside. Crying over the known. The unknown. The old and the new. And just tired in the now. And then on the feet again doing all my little things, such as being the school drive, the consultant, the house made, the animal manager… I smile.

Life’s contradictions and sarcastic ironies. Maybe God does think we don’t have enough humour?

Cracks let the light in, so let the light be love and the love happiness.

Happy and sad – sappy – and grateful.

348 signals left to come home.

Image courtesy of rakratchada torsap at FreeDigitalPhotos.net