The birdsong in my head

This morning I woke to a vague distant screaming.

Living on the countryside with animals including a minor gang of puppies-going-on-hooligans this can mean nothing but bad news aka someone is stuck, gotten lost somewhere or somehow hurt themselves…

It is a second to none wake-up and your whole body is on 100% alert!

What is going on? What is happening? Who is in pain? Where?

After another second of orientating myself I could conclude this was outdoors and not indoors.

It was on the back of the house and not the front where the puppies normally is.

Most dogs where indoors – read around my bed – so this was probably not a dog, or at least not any of mine.

Could be a rat maybe? Or kitten?

As I started to go over this list of possibilities in my head I tried to listen again and listen more carefully this time.

It didn’t sound bad now. Matter of fact it sound quite happy. Happy? Yes, like a little melody type. No panic noise.

Still lying down it occurs  to me that this is birdsong.

Yes, exactly – birdsong.

I laugh at myself (thank God I can still do that) – how fear driven am I when I am ready to jump out of bed in a nano second prepared for worse case scenario? Convinced someone is dying or is already dead?

There is this gentle little bird sitting in the fruit tree opposite my window. Singing his little song while the sun is just about over the mountains yet.

Just doing his thing.

And this is my thing?

Breathing deeply I try to tell myself that at least I am aware now. I can’t always stop it from happening, but when it does I am stopping myself and reflecting instead.

The world is safe. It supports me even?

I imagine a chair supporting me sitting up.

I imagine food.

I imagine a bird singing to wake me up to a new day.

All is well. 314 signals to go.

Image courtesy to Panuruangjan 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.

Happy Sunday!

Today, almost to the day, is the day when I decided that instead of stumbling through life that I would be still…

Good Morning and Happy Sunday!

Today, almost to the day, is the day when I decided that instead of stumbling through life that I would be still, feel what I was feeling, call things by their right word, use the word in the right way and re-learn life and di-tox my mind. Whatever that could possibly imply.

In my case this all took the form of some type of slow-motion falling. Or maybe it was everything else falling (you know how the mind can play tricks on you ;). And I am still in motion and still falling.

If you ever been into gymnastics or maybe sports of some sort you there is a moment when you know you are about to fall, when you can’t resist it, and you have to either keep at it and take a hard and painful hit – or – you simply give in, curl as a ball and simply role with it until you know you are of safe grounds again.

I did the further for about 40 years until my logic concluded that couldn’t be sanity. So I let myself fall…and keep on falling…and falling… The first seconds of freedom are amazing and you feel like you can conquer all and be on at this high forever. And then the insanity thoughts kick in and you ask yourself what you did – but then it is of course too late to turn back.

I am now in the landing phase. With stop marks, scratches and all. Painfully feeling the consequences of gravity and waiting for everything around me to finally be totally still. The breaks to finally stop crying after a long and too hard pull.

Recovering addicts talk about the year, the month even the day they started sobriety. In my words that would be fear-driven-life vs joy-driven-life. So today is my 1 year of joy-driven-life. (Wow felt really awkward saying that loud ;). Last year I devoted it to go back in time to find the sources of many things and to explore spirituality on my own terms. This year I will continue that discovery, but I will add writing. Writing fiction. Writing non-fiction. Writing about life, about joy and writing to release.

There is nothing special about my stories nor my life, however there is a process in healing and in sharing that I have come to learn as – if it can help just 1 other person then it will be well worth it and we will both know we are not alone in the world. I have found myself thirst for genuine support, sisterhood and deep friendship and to hear the voice of my tribe.

So this is my calling. My song. My whistle in the dark. Signalling to find our way home.

351 signals ahead 🙂