Hallelujah – we do NOT belong together

There comes a point when sitting still with discomfort suddenly doesn’t feel as if it is enough anymore. From deep within comes the an urge break through something and shake things up a bit…

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There comes a point when sitting still with discomfort suddenly doesn’t feel as if it is enough anymore. From deep within comes the an urge break through something and shake things up a bit.

This is where I have arrived now. The ball is put into motion and can’t be stopped any longer. Without thinking it takes me along on its own journey. before I used to schedule all my have tos, but not anymore. Somehow they are sneaking themselves in higher and higher up – as if it has become a game to bust them all together.

This week I could give myself a high five for, after ten years of official absence, being a paid professional writer again. One should never underestimate the feeling of a work well done. It makes you want more no matter if it is more clients, know new people, mastery of some sort or simply just to really genuinely connect.

I surprise myself by even go back and dig for rejections, just to ensure I picked up on all small points to improve, as well as taking in what was said enough to notice the majority is actually positive. Very positive even.

And neither even feels bad.

It just helps me to see clearly were to go deeper and niche in.

From a long life of people please and trying to be there for everything and everybody it is a breath of fresh air to be able to distinctively say I am this and you are that. We can like each other – but from a far. We DO NOT belong together, so let’s not even try. Hallelujah.

I don’t know how it happened, but it just shifted. I can notice the discomfort – and move on to my own path.

Despite the discomfort I am moving forward.

Finding my way home. 302 signals to go.

Image courtesy to www.dreamstime.com/free-photos

Washing it off

Have you ever felt betrayed, back-stabbed, cheated on, excluded or even bullied?

Have you ever felt betrayed, back-stabbed, cheated on, excluded or even bullied?

Today I think I managed to get my fair share of each – all in one go. Had to just stop the car and sit still and let it just rush through the system and then somehow slowly ebb away a bit.

When I collected myself again and turned the car on again to get out in traffic I silently ask myself in what sort of denial have I been living in? Was so I so desperate for approval? Belonging? Achievements?

It is like I have told myself what to feel rather than feeling it. What was expected of me.

Now I feel it. Like an instant pain you instantly want to withdraw from I just it still.

It is uncomfortable. It is painful. It is relieving in a backwards way.

I take time to feel and I take time to observe to the best I can.

I have found that I am very uncomfortable with other people’s unexpected expectations. They have ideas and plans I am suppose to fit in to, which I either never realized or I never actively took part in from the beginning.

Then they have these big dramatic behaviours and most often I haven’t seen it coming and again and again I am deeply confused or surprised. It has taken a while, but at least now – when I happen to do it myself – I can silently ask for some type of undoing and ask myself what is really going on?

When I manage to hold on and stay in my Observer position I can see that maybe I attracted this person – or his or hers views on something – into my life when I was in a fundamentally different place. As with my intentions, maybe I need to give myself a break here and let certain people ache out to really ensure whatever has to be learned is learned?

Today I didn’t look away. Nor did I dwell. I looked. Looked again. And looked at myself. And back again. There was really betrayal. Real back stabbing. Real bullying. But I didn’t have to let it define me. Or let it put me on an emotional dependency spree. Just let it fall to the ground as I move forward.

Wash it off.

The evening I spend in the ocean waves looking up at the sky. Trust, trust, trust I tell myself as I let them carry my up and down with the streams. I breathe. I float. I am doing it.

A little bit drained, but I go to bed with a cleaned soul tonight.

335 signals to go. Slowly but surely.

Days of deep thinking

Are we this uncomfortable or untrained in talking about feelings?

At the moment my access to internet is not constant. What first may seem like a complete disaster has turned out to something quite good and actually helps me focus. I read, write, hang with the kids – and think.

On this discovery of understanding and finding of myself, as a complete being with feelings, it is some things that first confused me, that now is becoming clearer, but not entirely yet.
As much as I enjoy finding a “tribe” in fellow sensitive and seeking spirits I have also become painfully aware of a quite passive aggressive and undermining language used against me or “us” as a community.
If I express any other feelings than “I love this or that” or “you are amazing” I am referred to as a drama queen. And out of the many things you do could call me drama queen isn’t really it. [If something dramatic does happen I never soak, I never call anyone, I don’t intrigue – I am the type that rather back out, shut down and go very quiet…].
So to say I am sad or this is hard or I need help is actually quite difficult – so I am practising. Not in an accusing way, but more of a matter of fact – this is what I feel right now. With the kids is working quite well. We have an open conversation about it and have by now agreed not to accuse each other and if the other one just want to be alone or talk, to respect that. When I talk about it, so do they I have noticed. Everything is more open and we are getting to know each other more closely.
In the outside world it is quite the opposite. If you don’t answer fine to the 5-times-per-day-how-are-you you are weird or something slightly wrong with you. I always wondered why people ask in the first place when they are so not interested in the answer. [on that note I always also wondered how Italians know what you are talking about when the start to talk themselves before you finished…?].
Are we this uncomfortable or untrained in talking about feelings?
If someone tells me anything else but fine I usually feel relieved. It is like it gives me permission both to actually engage on a somewhat slightly deeper level with this person, as well as it allows me to express myself in a deeper way.
So I don’t get the drama queen stuff. Nor do I understand the empath down talk.
I am however going to try to find the golden middle way and come back to it in a later post.

342 signals to go.