Dancing Again

A friend of mine, my fellow graduate from the Angelos Method, sent me a SMS late Saturday night. We'd talked about going out for drinking and dancing, but I didn't think it would happen this weekend. Well, it did. 10.30 PM I ran for the bus,and arrived at her house 45 minutes later where she and another lady friend of hers were drinking beer outside. I was a little behind, but I approached the task fearlessly, and an hour later we were all ready to hit town.

We ended up at the night club Rick's, and tried to find a dance floor which wasn't too crowded. We did, but no wonder the floor was empty - the music was crap! Then after another beer we weren't that choosy and thought we'd make up a stir on our own, which we to some extent managed. "Suddenly" the lights went on and everyone was asked to finish their drinks and head out. We had actually danced ourselves through to closing time.

The night was warm, and outside people were crowding, some giving a final desperate try to hook up for the night. While my friend was talking to some guy, I sort of just stood there, probably looking a bit lost. Then this man asked how I was doing. Fine, I said, I'm just looking out for my friend over there. As I didn't have anything else to do, I started to chat with him. He was nothing but sober, I can still recognize a drunken, slurry voice when I hear one. I could hear he wasn't from town, so I just asked him if he was a visitor or lived here. I didn't have a plan with my question, but he might have thought so, 'cause during the course of our conversation I learned that he in fact used to live here (for 18 years or something), when he was in the Navy, and that he also was going to join them again, stayed in a hotel for the night, hadn't had any sex for 3 or 4 months and that he considered bringing me with him, up to the hotel room!

Was that a good offer or an insult? The idea that he thought it was merely up to him whether I'd be going to bed with him or not, was in fact a little offputting. Sure, I like a man taking command, but maybe not like that. How it ended? Well, I'm not telling... No more telling. At least not for free anymore. You give some, you get some...

Burning The Candle

About half a year ago I got this candle as a gift from a very dear friend of mine. At first sight it looked kind of plain; a straight cylinder shaped blue candle. But when it had been lit for a while I could really see how beautiful it was. The color was just on the outside, and as the white center melted down the edges stayed leaving a semi-transparent wall of wax. The candle looked alive somehow with its flickering light.

I wanted to save the candle for as long as I could, and had it only lit for a short time every morning at breakfast. It became almost a ritual, and those moments filled me with great pleasure. But one day the inevitable happened and the center reached its bottom.

Although I wouldn't give up on this without a fight! Surely, there must be something I could do? I took a tealight out of its metal cover and placed it inside the empty blue shell of wax and - voilà! - the candle had another few hours left to live. For every burnt down tealight I put in another one. I have an endless supply here.

Of course nothing lasts forever, and the other day the wall finally gave in. Becoming too thin it couldn't withstand the heat from my tealights for ever, and as soon it started to melt it all ran out. All that's left now are the stiff residues covering the stones and pebbles I had placed the candle on.

I'm Moving

Weird feeling, but I'm actually moving out of here. Even if it's a rental, it will be a whole lot more like my apartment. There's no time limit, so I won't have that hanging over me. I'm so fed up with these surroundings now, I must admit that. So no more queuing for washing clothes. And guess what? There's a 6 burner gas stove in the kitchen...

A Fantastic Day

While I was walking to the bus the other day, I passed two women chatting in the street. I didn't get the conversation except from one clear sentence; the instance I walked by: "And they're saying it's gonna be fantastic tomorrow!"

They? In this case the magical and almighty weather forecasters I presume. (Another time "they" could be the government or some other powerful institution...) Anyway, that remark made me thinking. Why is it that we always look for something better? Let me describe the day as it was. And also keep in mind the rain, snow and overall crappy weather that has predominated the last six months...

It was no wind, and warm enough to stay outside only wearing a very light jacket. Or even no jacket at all. The sky was just a little bit cloudy, and the sun paid us regular visits. Why wasn't that day considered "fantastic"? Instead of reading the papers, or checking the forecast on TV, and look for that big sun spread all over the map, why not go outside and feel? I believe we are so used to listen to what authorities (of any kind...) are telling us to think that we forget to listen to ourselves. And this obviously goes for more than idle weather chit-chat...

Another One...

...on the same subject, as I wasn't quite finished ranting. Not that one ever could come to any conclusion really, about love. That in itself would actually be kind of sad, I think we need a little mystery and romance. Having said that, I now see that guesswork is not romantic, while being clear about who you are might make you appear even more mysterious and alluring! 'Cause you have to admit - meeting someone who is truly self confident (without cockiness) is so rare they look like conundrums.

One of the things I mentioned yesterday was the see through excuses we make in order to avoid a (frightening) situation. This wasn't the first time I talked about it, but it's getting more and more evident that it's a crucial point. The honesty in communication is so important, and it's like I said in a profile I kept at Match.com, regarding what I looked for in a man: "You have to be honest; not only to me, but to yourself as well." I'll give you have an example, once told by a friend of mine. (Not his personal story, but a friend of his.) Although, this is a very typical scenario, could be any of us.

This couple had been married for a very long time, and the kids were more or less grown up. The marriage had been stable, perhaps not that exciting during the last few years, but he wasn't complaining. The wife on the other hand, one day dropped the bomb and said she wanted a divorce. And here's her reasoning: she said she was sorry that she couldn't give him the intimacy he deserved, and she wanted him to have his freedom to find a woman who could satisfy his needs. The husband didn't agree. In fact, he didn't mind at all that the bedroom wasn't used for anything else but sleeping. He was comfortable with his wife, and regarded her his best friend. He also thought about the whole family that would suffer from a divorce. Well, the wife followed through with her plans and left him.

Now, here's the catch. It didn't take long before everyone realized that she was involved with another man, and that she had been for some time. But instead of being honest, to her self and her husband, she chose to put the responsibility of feelings onto her husband. She hid behind a false pretense of taking care of his interests. Not nice, and I guess when you read this it's ever so easy to blame her, am I right? But look into yourself, how often do you try to take responsibility for other's feelings? You can't, and you shouldn't. You are only responsible for your own feelings! This certainly doesn't mean it's OK to go around tormenting people, saying "I can't help if he feels hurt". And I reckon no sincere person would deliberately act in a manner that he knew would upset someone he cares for. Just don't use it as an excuse! What you probably haven't thought about, is that "the dishonest" will suffer just as much, 'cause every little act of this kind of self deceit will effectively hinder any personal progression.

Feelings. Iffy stuff, right? And remember (all ladies?) - talking about feelings isn't the same as being in contact with them!

Like yesterday, I end this post sort of hanging mid air. I might pick up on it again, or not. We'll see.

The One About Love

Why is it, that it's so god damn difficult to keep a relationship going? Going well, that is.

Been thinking about this for a long time, and I have also touched upon the subject on numerous occasions before. But now it seemed ever so important, and if you feel targeted reading this, you're absolutely right! Although I'm aiming at everyone here. Including myself; I'm no better.

Of course I'm not the only one wondering about these questions, and in the paper this morning I found someone had beat me to it. His angle was a Christian one, preaching Jesus' words - do good without expecting nothing in return. But it's my line of thinking too, even if I don't involve religion. Loving someone isn't worth anything if it has to be on someones terms. Let's look at how we love children and animals... (Or how most of us do, but I'll leave that for now.)

We love our children unconditionally. If they "fail" we excuse them, they being too young to know better. We love them for their funny exclamations at family dinners, we love them for making Sunday breakfast even if the kitchen looks like ground zero. We love them no matter what, and don't expect them to love us back! But we are at the same time responsible for their upbringing, we are the ones who should teach them manners and how to be descent people. Maybe you think that's the difference to the love between two adults in a relationship? We shouldn't try to teach each other, right? Telling what you should or shouldn't do. Stop right there! It's exactly the same thing, just reverse it. The best upbringing you could give your children isn't by telling them the rules, constant admonishing them about the dangers of life. No, just live your own life well, be a role model, and reassure them with your unconditional love. That'll make them ready for life. And they'll probably love you for it.

The thing is that we somehow take the kids for granted, perhaps counting on blood being thicker than water. Maybe not so good, one should never take anyone for granted, but at least it replaces the fear. And here we are, at the most dominating factor ruling our lives. The Fear.

Most of the time we are not aware of the fear. As it could be a paralyzing state of emotion, we are conditioned to repress it and project the feeling onto something (or someone) else. The fear of getting hurt will then be an impediment for possible happiness. This is the time we make up all these more or less see through excuses for not getting involved or committed.

Some people are so afraid that they won't even try to get close to someone. They could die without ever being kissed. Others try, and they try a lot! Jumping from one fling to another at the speed of light, fleeing the stage as soon as the alarm bell sets off. "Whaaah, whaaah, whaaah! Feelings are coming! (Andhowunbelievablysadyou'regonnagetwhenheleavesyou!) Not worth the risk! Get the hell out of here!" Others again might have been in a long relationship, one which they had all the hopes for. Might have been a real long one too. For some reason it ended, resulting in a sharp pain which seemed best not to deal with. Next time something even remotely resembling a relationship arise, the escape route is already planned to follow.

The reasons for being afraid varies, but let's just say "children hurt easily"... Then when they grow up they have most likely forgotten all painful episodes, but learned a whole set of defense mechanisms to keep them protected from ever experiencing that pain again. Like I said, these mechanisms aren't conscious, 'cause no one likes the idea that they're scared. Perhaps men the least, being taught from their childhood to be brave and control their feelings. "Stop crying, boy!"

Now, just to make it clear, I'm no better here. I have merely made some reflections, and perhaps understood a thing or two. But I'm just as scared as you. The very thought of saying "I love you" makes me absolutely terrified. Even if I don't expect anything. No obligations. No catches. Nothing to fear. Imaging how easily I used to express my love when I was married, but if I'm honest I remember now I only said it when I felt safe it would be returned! (Which wasn't very often, I must admit.)

I'm not sure I liked the way this post turned, but it's probably how it should be, so I'm leaving it as it is. Training not to be a ScaredyCat...

Next Step...

...and I want to run! I've reached a point now where I'm sooo fed up with my current living situation that I almost can't wait to start packing. And more importantly - start throwing things away! You'd think there shouldn't be much to get rid off since I just moved here 4 months ago, and back then did quite a good job sorting things out. But then I wasn't in the state of mind I'm in now. I'm almost on the verge of doing a "Hannah"... Maybe not the moving to Scotland part, but getting rid of all the things I never use. (Or if I was stinking rich I could buy a house big enough to have extra rooms for storage.)

Tidying up is also (for me anyway) something not physical, and today I have cleared away dozens of phone numbers and MSN-contacts which I have absolutely no interest in keeping. Feel better already, without all these loose ends and questionable connections.

Approved!

I've got my approval today, and from now I can title myself Angelos therapist. Quite awesome, actually. Whether I earn the respect as such time will tell. Right now I have a pretty good feeling though. (Didn't this morning, but that's another story...)

After the meeting with my course instructor I went for a long overdue hair cut. Exiting the hair dresser's I was presentable enough to take to a restaurant, which my good friend Toril did. First we had a lovely meal at Naboen (Breaded Plaice With Chilli Mayonnaise And Salad), followed by coffee and cake at Molière's. There I also indulged in a most exquisite cognac, one even older than I am - Hardy's Noces D'Or.

But no treat could be nicer than the beautiful words Toril sent me after we parted. Thank you, my dear!

No Way Back

Once you've opened your eyes, there no way you can go blind again. And it can be tough being able to see through the illusions, seeing the pain and sorrow you weren't aware of before. 'Cause knowing also means you want to help, but it's not always you're granted that opportunity. All you can do is quietly standing by, hoping they'll see for them selves eventually. Now this wasn't meant really for any one of you readers specifically, this was more of a general observation. Something we talked about today at the course. But I have seen a lot of sorrow lately, previous unknown to me...

Another lesson learned is that I have total responsibility for getting myself understood. Of course some people are denser than other, and again - some people read you like an open book even if you clam up. But I saw it so clearly now. I had this conversation the other day, and he suggested something which I didn't totally agree with. He also recognized that in my face, which he then pointed out to me. Had it been last year I'd probably felt indignant over being misunderstood, but now I just replied: "It's OK, you didn't get that right, but it's because I haven't been totally straight yet, the 'fault' is mine." I knew he wouldn't understand it all until I really told him how I felt. Me revealing my true feelings is a different matter though, but the point is that I can't expect anyone to guess how I think and feel.

Today at the course we also talked about our future work as healers/therapists. It's no joke. This is what we (I) are going to do for a living. Full time or part time. How I will solve this is a little bit unclear yet, but after talking to my mother I might just invest in another table and keep one ready for clients in Sweden too. If I then keep a third one a little bit further up north I can develop a Scandinavian Triangle as potent as the "Bermuda"...

Which make me think I must have been a gypsy in a previous life. Traveling back and forth, and from place to place seem ever so natural to me. I can easily picture myself dressed in colorful skirts, sitting on the carriage behind the old dapple-grey nag. A dozen of dirty kids running alongside, and my man gently driving the horse on. Back in the cart I keep my crystal ball and Tarot cards. And I see everything. (For a nickel of course.)

What I see now? My pillow. I'm exhausted, and really need a few hours before tomorrow. I might even get "sober" enough to realize my writing tonight was just gibberish. Til then - have a good night.