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.


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