Tag: musings

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lessons of nursery work

The days at the nursery, they still linger,
Memories of little ones, their joy and wonder.
Their laughter, their smiles, they touched my heart,
A time in my life, where I played my part.

I watched them grow, day by day,
Helping them learn, in every little way.
Guiding their steps, soothing their fears,
Moments that now, bring me to tears.

The simple things, they taught me so much,
The value of patience, a gentle touch.
Their innocence, their pure delight,
Reminded me to cherish each moment’s light.

Years have passed, but the impact remains,
In the lives I’ve touched, the bonds that sustain.
I see their faces, now grown and tall,
And I know, my work was worth it all.

They greet me with warmth, a familiar face,
Remembering the days, in that special place.
Their eyes light up, with a knowing smile,
Reminding me, my efforts were worthwhile.

The lessons I learned, they still guide my way,
Kindness, patience, and love, every single day.
The little ones, they left an indelible mark,
A legacy of joy, that will never depart.

Though the path may change, and time moves on,
The memories I hold, will forever dawn.
A humble role, yet one that made a difference,
In the lives of those, I was privileged to serve.

And so I cherish, each moment past,
Knowing the impact, that will always last.
A nursery’s gift, a lesson so true,
That the smallest actions, can change lives anew.

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i was grocery shopping tonight and while pushing my cart around, I met three parents of kids I worked with at the nursery. They all seemed genuinely happy to see me. They smiled, but it was not just their mouth, it was in their eyes too. And I noticed, that I left something of me with their kids during a very important time. We made some smalltalk and moved on. Usually, I am a power shopper. In and out in record time. At the checkout, I was unloading my cart when I was greeted again and I turned around to see a father with his boy. I saw the joy in the father’s face, while the kid drew a blank. The dad asked his son if he remembered me from the nursery, and of course the kid said no. And that’s okay. I remember this boy fondly, he was the first baby who I was responsible for (keeping track of his development, parent meetings…) and he was also the first child who took his first steps toward me at the nursery. The moment of pride was immeasurable. Many moments like that followed and they always left me in wonder. For me, it was never normal to witness children grow and bloom. It was and still is a miracle. It’s funny and sad at the same time. We are there to witness those milestones in the childrens lives, but they don’t remember us, they forget about us. It’s like we are ghosts from the past. I love working with young kids – babies and toddlers and I love my job. I am glad – I feel blessed, that I am allowed to work in a job I adore and that rarely feels like a burden. 🙂

have a great weekend

(PS I know that not everyone is a fan of kids, and you don’t have to be. Either way is completely okay and acceptable.)

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sharing some news or plans

The daily posts in May were more than just a way to share my thoughts; they were a showcase of my ability to weave words together. Approaching June, I am brimming with excitement as I proudly declare that I am crafting and organizing my next poetry collection. I am fully confident that I will be able to tell you more in the coming weeks and months about the launch of my upcoming book that will hopefully see the light of your eyes by September. But, worry not. I will not stay quiet. After all, staying silent for extended periods is simply not my style!

Thank you for dedicating 1 minute of your time to me every day in May. Your support has been the perfect motivation to continue writing and has given me the confidence to publish another book this year.

I can’t believe it is June already. Where is summer hiding?

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ten years ago or embracing change and gratitude

Ten years ago, our lives were swept up in a whirlwind of positive change. We were completely different individuals, each with our unique ways of doing things and distinct thoughts. I was deeply immersed in my role as a dedicated stay-at-home mom, gracefully navigating the beautiful chaos of family life. It’s almost unbelievable that my best friend had not yet become a cherished part of my world. At that time, my writing journey was just beginning, fueled by boundless passion and potential as I enthusiastically delved into the world of storytelling and self-expression. Jamie and Robert were vibrant souls, illuminating our lives with their infectious energy and unwavering friendship, with their knowledge and their wisdom. I miss them a lot. My small circle of friends formed a tapestry of support and love, with each person contributing to the rich fabric of my life and providing invaluable companionship. Things quickly changed when I did, but that’s another story. And for tonight, it is not worth telling. I ardently championed undiscovered musicians, recognizing their immeasurable talent and fully believing in their ability to conquer the world through the power of their music. Who were we back then, in that remarkable chapter of our lives? That woman from ten years ago seems so distant from who I am now. I was so naive, knowing so little outside my bubble. In fact, I was just taking the first steps to recovery, working on my mental health and getting to know myself.

And look where we are now! And who we are! What an incredible difference a decade makes! I wouldn’t want to go back, I can tell you that. I cherish the present and the amazing individuals in my life. While I wouldn’t wish for the return of certain friendships, I would do anything to have Jamie and Robert with us once more, that’s for sure. My best friend – I cherish our bond immensely and am grateful for his presence in my life. Sometimes, I reflect on how life may have seemed simpler for me personally a decade ago. Nonetheless, I adore my life. Immensely. I am grateful for where I am and who I have become today. I wouldn’t change a thing, as every experience has contributed to shaping the person I am today, with all the beautiful imperfections and valuable lessons learned along the way.

Truthfully, this post was inspired by a musician who once contemplated deleting his entire music history due to self-doubt. I want to emphasize that both Martyn Jackson and Orellana are truly worth your attention if you have an affinity for this kind of music, and I was glad to see them put their music back up. A decade ago, I fervently supported this artist, and my admiration remains unwavering to this day. What can I say? Loyalty has its place, and so does a deep appreciation for talent, music, and life. And now that Martyn has put his music back on Bandcamp, a few steps down memory lane are allowed for sure.

Where were you ten years ago?

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musing/thoughts – 511 words – reading time: 3 minutes

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i remember

i remember it well, the first time that I saw you. You were walking toward me, not an ounce of insecurities were showing. I was a bundle of nerves watching you as you approached me. I immediately noticed that we couldn’t be any more different, you with your penguin scarf and me in my floor-length leather coat. As I stood there, trying to maintain a composed exterior, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Your confident stride contrasted so starkly with my own jittery demeanor that I couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the enigma that was you. The way your green eyes sparkled with curiosity, and the contrast of our attire, seemed to encapsulate the very essence of our divergence in that moment. Though our outward appearance may have painted us as polar opposites, the magnetic pull between us was undeniable, drawing me in with a force I couldn’t resist.

The enduring nature of our commitment to each other has been a source of great joy and strength for us. Over the course of 24 years, we have overcome numerous challenges and have remained steadfast in our dedication to each other. It is truly remarkable to consider the journey we have shared, from the early days of our marriage to now, where we find ourselves happily situated with our beloved children. The passage of time has only served to deepen our bond, and we have defied any expectations by growing stronger as a couple. Amidst witnessing the ebb and flow of relationships around us, we have held fast to our love, building a life and a future together that fills us with immense pride and gratitude.

The journey of life is indeed filled with ups and downs, moments of joy and challenges. It is during these trials that our resilience and persistence come to the forefront, shaping our character and strengthening our resolve. Navigating through mood swings and inner demons can be a taxing experience, but as individuals, we possess the capability to overcome these obstacles with unwavering determination. Finding the ability to laugh amidst difficulties and to push through moments of friction is a testament to our inner strength and adaptability. Embracing these contrasting experiences ultimately leads to personal growth and a deeper understanding of ourselves.

The story of how we met is one of those rare, serendipitous moments that seem straight out of a romantic movie. It was the year 2000, and I was just a month away from turning 17 when we had our blind date. I can recall the details as if it were yesterday. It was a crisp Monday morning, and I stood at the bus stop with my hair still damp from the shower. As I gazed up at the sky, I was greeted by the breathtaking sight of a shooting star streaking across the heavens. To this day, I am convinced that it was the celestial spectacle that graced the early hours of January 17th.

In that moment, I made a wish – a wish so pure and profound that it almost felt like a prayer. I wished that I would meet the man who would one day become my husband that very night. And incredibly, against all odds, that wish came true. It’s a surreal and almost magical experience that has stayed with me all these years.

I’ll confess that before that fateful night, I held little faith in the institution of marriage. Growing up in an environment where positive examples of married life were scarce, I was skeptical about the concept of lifelong commitment. Even now, to some extent, I still grapple with the idea of monogamy. Perhaps it’s a lingering effect of my youth, an insatiable yearning for a love so potent that it can never be extinguished or fully satisfied.

But while I am still longing for a deeper connection, I also know when I look at you, or when I put my head in your lap at night that we were meant to be in each other’s lives. Where else could I be myself? Who else would or could love me like you do? Who else could and would put up with my recent moodswings? Who else would or could make me laugh like you do?

the answer is: no one. No one. Because you and me, that’s what makes us us. That’s what makes this bond unique and strong and unbreakable. Are we passionless? Maybe to the outside world we are. Then again, showing our connection, whispering between us, long eye contact, laughter and light ribbing, that’s who we are. We love each other. You see, our love transcends the boundaries of ordinary affection. It’s a deeply rooted connection that intertwines our souls and brings out the best in each other. The world may not understand the depth of our bond, but in each gesture and shared moment, the strength of our love shines through. It’s in the subtle glances, the shared jokes, and the unspoken understanding that we find the purest expression of our love. And in this unique language of love, we are fluent, speaking volumes without uttering a word. This is the essence of us, an extraordinary love that defies expectations and flourishes in the quiet moments, where our hearts beat as one. This is the true beauty of our connection, a love that resonates beyond the ordinary, creating a symphony of emotion that only you and I can compose together.

We are perfect in our imperfections. I love you.

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love letter to my husband – 916 words – reading time: 5 minutes

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Up on a hill

I once stood on a hill, enjoying the view. I inhaled the crisp and pristine air and exhaled my sorrows and troubles. The gentle breeze caressed my face as I gazed at the breath-taking landscape stretching out before me. The distant mountains stood like silent sentinels, and the sun cast a warm glow over the entire scene, painting the world in soft hues of pink and gold. In that moment, I felt a profound sense of peace and serenity wash over me, as if the essence of nature was consoling me and bringing solace to my troubled heart. It was a moment of tranquillity, a respite from the chaotic rhythm of everyday life, and I revelled in the simple beauty of the world around me.

In the blink of an eye, this moment was gone, and I had to descend into the gruesome black and grey of reality. Raging wars on every corner of the world, ugliness taking over. It’s as if our existence is adorned with the scars of conflict and despair, woven into our lives. The relentless turbulence of violence and hostility rips through the delicate balance of peace, leaving chaos and heartache in its wake. Yet, amidst the darkness, rays of hope and resilience pierce through, whispering tales of courage and the unyielding human spirit. Every act of kindness, every endeavour for understanding, and every glimmer of compassion becomes a beacon of light, pushing back against the engulfing shadows.

In those moments, we find the strength to continue, to push through the difficulties, and to believe that there are brighter days ahead. It’s okay to acknowledge the pain, to let it flow through us, and to emerge on the other side with newfound resilience. As we journey on, we carry with us the wisdom gained from our experiences, and we learn to embrace both the light and the shadows, for they shape our existence and make us who we are. In the warmth of the sun, amidst the ebb and flow of emotions, we find the courage to seek out love, to seek out understanding, and to carry on with unwavering determination.

Maybe we are all crazy for trying, crazy for persisting in these times where negativity seems to be all the rage back home. It would be easier to give in and let our flowers wilt in this scorching heat, but easy is not worth fighting for. We are not simply battling the outer forces, but also the internal struggles and doubts that threaten to diminish our resolve. It’s in these moments that we find strength in our vulnerability, and the courage to endure the challenges that come our way. Every small victory becomes a testament to our dedication, propelling us forward in the face of adversity. So let us embrace our ‘craziness’ and continue to strive, for it is in this tenacity that we find purpose and worth.

I admit, I am tired. Exhausted. Gasping for breath. But I want to get up on that hill I once knew. I want to enjoy that view once more, inhale the freedom to be myself. I want to raise my arms, stretch my fingers and touch the clouds. Because I am still here. And you are too. Whether we are walking through the valleys of life or standing on the hills, embrace it. Because just as silently as an eyelash drifts to the ground, as silently our lives can change.

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musings – 573 words – reading time: 3 minutes

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speed

The concept of a marathon versus a sprint is a fascinating one. The saying “it’s a marathon, not a sprint” suggests that success is more about steady, consistent progress rather than quick, immediate results. However, there is a lot skepticism about this notion within me, and I think it is quite valid. In many cases, achieving our goals does indeed feel like a sprint. We often find ourselves pushing hard, exerting every bit of energy and focus to reach a particular milestone in our personal or professional lives. The truth likely lies in a balance between the two: the marathon’s endurance and the sprint’s intensity. Recognizing when to pace ourselves for the long haul and when to give it our all in a short burst is the key to navigating the journey towards our aspirations.

The idea about this actually came after watching the Bon Jovi documentary. Listening to Bon Jovi uncool, and to be honest, I don’t know why. That band has been around for 4 decades and toured the world a couple of times. They worked their butts off. Okay okay, maybe I also feel particularly connected to them because my sister was a big fan when Keep the Faith came out in 1992. And that led to seeing my first concert in 1996 without adult supervision. (My second concert in total, the first was in 1993 or 1994, if I remember correctly, East 17 – yes, I was a huge fan and knew every song by heart without understanding the lyrics). Back to Bon Jovi. I remember that day vividly, we were 3 young girls (me at 13, my sister 16, and her best friend 15). We stood in the third row, the sun was shining on us and we didn’t dare to leave to have a drink or go to the loo. Today, I wonder how we were able to do this. An entire day in the scorching heat – it’s crazy and we were lucky nothing bad happened. But that’s age talking, and probably my mom-genes are rearing their head too. Looking back, it’s amazing how different our perspectives can be as we grow older. The resilience and adventurous spirit of youth, coupled with the exuberance of being at a memorable event, make for a potent combination, for sure.

In the documentary, there were parts of that tour too and it made me wonder: if that experience had been different, would I have become the same avid concert goer I was for a while? Corona put a halt to me going to live gigs. But for this autumn, I’ve already got ticket to see two bands and I am excited for that. Part of this excitement comes from the knowledge that this experience will be shared with former band mates. Am I even allowed to call them that? We are friends or acquaintances a lot longer than we were a band (or I was part of it). There is a bond, a love for music that helps us to stay in each other’s orbit. I like that a lot. And I am very appreciative of the short creative moments we had. They shaped me.

It’s quite intriguing to consider the profound influence of music on our lives, especially during specific periods. The emotive power of music can resonate deeply within us, often without us even realizing it. During times of introspection, the significance of melodies and lyrics can become notably pronounced, offering solace, inspiration, and a sense of connection.

Music has the remarkable ability to encapsulate the essence of our emotions and experiences, providing a soundtrack to our lives. It can uplift our spirits, evoke nostalgia, or even serve as a channel for catharsis. The resonance of certain songs and melodies can become intertwined with our memories, etching themselves into the fabric of our existence.

Moreover, the ever-evolving landscape of the world around us can influence our perception of music. In times of change or uncertainty, the allure of familiar tunes and the discovery of new musical experiences can offer a semblance of stability and excitement amid the flux.

As we navigate the ebb and flow of life, it’s natural to find ourselves drawn more deeply to the enchanting allure of music. Its capacity to articulate the intricacies of our emotions and captivate our senses is indeed a treasure to be cherished, especially during periods of contemplation and growth.

It comes and goes. It ebbs it flows. It’s a lifelong love, deeper, more resonating than anything or anyone. Love just like music that transcends time and space, resonates deeply within the hearts of us; those who had and have to experience it.

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musing – 775 words – reading time: 4 minutes (see, if you get me started about music, I will ramble on and on and on)

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I’m thinking of…

… ending things. No it’s less dramatic than it sounds. I am Thinking of Ending Things is a novel by Iain Reid I began reading a couple of years ago but never finished. The title stayed with me. Maybe I should give it a second chance. It’s just, and I am quite sure many people feel the same: at times, reading can feel like a serene escape while at other times, sifting through lengthy narratives feels daunting when compared to the instant gratification of bite-sized information on the internet. 

Anyway… I am thinking a lot about music right now and how it affects me and my moods. For me, music is amongst the most important things in my daily life and it is hard to explain. After all, I am not a musician. I can sing a bit, but that’s about it. I am just a fan, a listener, a supporter. When I was a child, music became a safe haven, a refuge. A constant in my life that was there and took me as I was. It listened to me as much as I did listen to it. There was and still is a song for every moment in life. And even though my parents weren’t fit to be my parents (I say “my parents” because my dad is a good dad to my half-sister, I think) , they gave me the gift of music. My mom was a music lover in her own right and my dad has been in bands since he was 15. His love for music – new and old, is a faithful companion. And often when we meet, when we run out of topics to talk about, we gravitate towards music. We are both comfortable with that. Recently I was told again that I have a vast knowledge about music and bands in general, but I think I am in a bubble. I only know things about the ones I am interested in and have also the handful of artists I really really don’t like.

Last week, a musician approached me to write a review about an album that does not have a release date yet. The album is awesome, I think. Impressive and captivating. I have been listening to it on repeat and still discover and hear new elements in every song. I haven’t tired of it, which is a good sign. But finding the right words and writing an objective, informative review that also incites the readers to go and listen to (and buy) the music – that’s very hard. And I don’t think I have the right skills for that at present. I am looking at music blogs like Jeff’s and his writing is off the charts and always spot on. Other music blogs do it too, but personally, I think Jeff’s writing about music is the best. It’s easily said that everyone’s a critic, but doing just that in an objective, fair, and educated way is not easy at all. All these words to say, I am still thinking about it, doing it – writing the review, but right now, the chances are rather slim.

Sometimes, I wonder if I had the same thoughts if my life had been different. You know what I mean?

It’s a thought that often crosses the mind, isn’t it? The idea that our experiences shape the way we see the world and the thoughts that occupy our minds. If our lives had taken different turns, would our thoughts and perspectives be entirely different as well? It’s intriguing to think about how our personal journeys influence the inner workings of our minds. Whether it’s the people we’ve met, the places we’ve been, or the challenges we’ve faced, they all contribute to shaping the our thoughts.

Every decision made and every path chosen has contributed to the unique set of thoughts that occupy our minds today. It’s a fascinating concept, contemplating the interconnected nature of our experiences and our thoughts. Don’t you think? Perhaps in an alternate reality where our lives unfolded differently, our thoughts would indeed be unrecognizable. But in this reality, shaped by our experiences, the endless “what ifs” linger in the corners of our minds sometimes rear their heads to stir our thoughts.

Ah, there… typically me… jumping from one topic to the next without an apparent connection. But in my mind, everything I wrote above is somehow linked. When I start to pen down my thoughts, it’s like taking a leisurely stroll through a labyrinth of ideas and emotions. The connection may not be apparent at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the threads that bind it all together slowly start to unravel. It’s a bit like uncovering hidden links and meanings.

It’s fascinating how our thoughts can drift to unexpected places on a sunlit Thursday morning, with the warmth of the sun caressing our backs. In the background, the turntables spin a record, creating an ambiance that seems to both define and defy the moment. Today, it’s Pearl Jam’s “Lightning Bolt” (2013).

As I bask in the sunlight, it’s tempting to let the world turn and allow my mind to remain a pristine, unmarked canvas. However, that’s not who I am. Instead, I embrace the musings and the melodies, finding inspiration in the thin almost imperceptible differences between the ordinary moment and the extraordinary soundtrack that accompanies it. Each line etched in my mind becomes a verse waiting to be written, a thought seeking expression on the pages that now lay before me. And you.

My moods are improving, the darkness I felt for weeks and the demons that were attached to my skin are finally disappearing. There is some fragility left in me and it is always there, we know that. There is also an underlying strength and a lot of integrity ingrained in me. But something slightly shifted this week and allowed more light and more hope back in. As I wrote a couple of days ago – let’s embrace the beauty simplicity so that maybe the overthinking mind gets a rest.

Enjoy this Thursday. Listen to music. Sit in the sun. Write. Read. Think. Do whatever feels best for you right now in this moment. And allow me to thank you. For reading all these thoughts that have a meaning but don’t matter. Or maybe they matter but or meaningless? Perhaps, they hold deeper meaning beneath their superficial appearance, or perhaps, their significance eludes us, shrouded in enigma.

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musings – 1074 words – reading time: 6 minutes (this stream of consciousness turned out much longer and weirder than initially intended. Then again, we all know that my posts are never planned… My mind seems to be a bit like trying to find a path in the fog but not having a map and forgetting if you are walking or driving or maybe even flying… I’ll stop here 🙂

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I am looking at…

I am looking at a black screen, trying to add white letters to make the background more bearable. I don’t like the dark or black, but I am often stuck in the darkness of my mind and I wear almost exclusively black clothes. Except for underwear and shoes. Yes, it is odd, but I like sexy lingerie in different colours and my shoes – well, most days I wear All Stars, and I own many pairs of those. That said, I recently noticed that I own too many shoes. Yes, I am a woman, and yes, it is possible to own too many pairs of shoes. Honestly, the first time I noticed it was when I fractured my toe. I needed shoes with lots of toe space and flat heels. And since I have too many shoes to choose from, it was not easy to find the right pair. And even now, three weeks after the fall, I still haven’t worn heels, and shoes with hard soles make me very aware of my toes. See? This is how my mind works. I share these very important snippets about me. No one should care about those but they spill out of me without much reason at all. Weird, funny, and stupid.

What else is stupid? Me trying to write for ten minutes straight. For a couple of days I made a conscious effort to use a different vocabulary when writing. But my vocabulary is limited and I keep going back to the words and expressions I know. I seek comfort in the things I know. It’s true, I have a way with words. I know that. (Conceited much?!) Well, most times. Often, I overthink and wonder if I am expressing myself correctly. I would hate to hurt anyone due to limited vocabulary.

My thoughts are all over the place… Music is on my mind.

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musings – 312 words – reading time: 2 minutes

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Half

Let me cut through the noise; no need for complications. I want to embrace simple words, and unleash my creativity without overthinking. No unnecessary fluff. I'll create the way I always have: with passion, relatability, and authenticity. I'll just be. I exist. I breathe. The way I have always done. True to the side of me I'm most at ease sharing with you. I'll pour my essence onto your screens. No pretense, just me.

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musing – thought – 76 words – reading time: less than 1 minute

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rainy musings

The depth of words left unspoken often echoes within us. How often do we stumble upon thoughts that appear to surface from our innermost being? The dance of ideas and their influences is an enigmatic power, crafting a mosaic of mutual insight and reflection. Within this web of communication, the divide between individual minds softens, allowing the sharing of thoughts to surpass personal boundaries. Through such interactions, the panorama of ideas broadens, as if the core of our thoughts could break free from personal confines and reach out to enlighten and move others. Every utterance, akin to an artist’s brushstroke, adds to the collective cognitive tapestry, with the capacity to stir deep emotions and thought.

In this sphere of intertwined minds and ideas, sharing becomes a vibrant exchange of articulation and understanding, where personal limits give way to a symphony of common insight. This melding of mental forces creates a seamless stream of consciousness, obscuring the lines between the inception of ideas and the minds they navigate, ultimately weaving the essence of our collective awareness.

These reflections arose after I encountered a blog post echoing my thoughts, even mirroring phrases I often use. In the vast online expanse, where blogs and journals abound, making discovery seem daunting, we are not alone. There exist kindred spirits, a cascade of ideas and explosions of emotion that touch every part of the globe, awaiting those who venture to embrace the unfamiliar.

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musings – 238 words – reading time: 1 minute

(I am making a conscious effort to expand my use of word and change my often very simple and limited language)

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Intelligence

is intelligence inherent or is it something one can learn? Can intelligence be taught or is it something that comes natural. Is intelligence an insult or a compliment?

In the last days I’ve been called intelligent several times. Does that mean I was stupid before? Did I hide my intelligence? Did I get more intelligent?

All those questions are asked without taking it all too serious. I am sure there is an answer to it all somewhere, but it might be too scientific and over my head.

I was wondering though, in earnest, if intelligence has to do with age. As one gets older, they experience more, are exposed to more information, and probably (hopefully) learn to differentiate between facts and fiction; truths and lies.

And the more I think about it, I think – and that’s my own personal opinion, I think being curious about life, the world, and everything that happens improves intelligence too. Reading up to find answers to your questions. Searching for information to understand what you don’t understand.

In my case, I mentioned above that I was called intelligent for different reasons: once for mostly reading in English and German with neither being my native language. But, here in Luxembourg, most people grow up with at least three languages, some even with five. It’s normal here to speak and read in several languages. Not everyone is confident, comfortable or fluent in all of them, but the basis knowledge is there anyway.

Secondly, I voiced my opinions about national politics and tax changes that will be set in motion in January. If I share my opinions about politics, I add facts and explain how I came to my conclusions. Politics and religions are topics that always potentially lead to arguments. I often avoid sharing my thoughts and just listen to those conversations, but I am also a grown-up who is affected by what is happening in our country (and in the world too). I can’t always be silent. But, I think before I speak. Not always. Often enough though.

Third time I was called intelligent, I think they misused the word. We were talking about music and I had a lot to say, many facts, many songs I know, stuff like that. For me, that’s nothing to do with intelligence. It’s something I like. If I liked paintings, I would surly know about the painters and their biographies too.

I had a couple of very nice days recently, spending them with people I like and love, laughing until our cheeks hurt. Last night for example, I spent at a Christmas dinner with my ex-co-workers. I was invited spontaneously, and I admit, usually I would have found an excuse to not go, but I liked the team and my bosses. It felt right to go there. And we had a lot of fun. I am glad I went. My best friend put it like this: you are liked. And I felt liked for sure. I mean, they did not have to invite me, but they did. For me, it’s kind of a big deal because I never felt very included anywhere. I don’t have many friends (mainly that’s okay right now). I have many acquaintances, and sometimes I get the feeling they would want to be friends, but I keep them at arm’s length anyway.

Stop! This is not what I wanted to write about when I started this post.

The next three posts will be parts of the story. They are scheduled (like all the other chapters that were posted before and will be posted until January). You’re still the one is the same way I left it in 2015. I should have at least edited the chapters to get rid of cringeworthy grammar and spelling, but I didn’t. It’s the authentic first draft of that story.

Read you soon…

Oh and I would love to hear your thoughts about intelligence. Sound off in the comments!

PS: this is the 100 post in a row… it was a personal goal I wanted to reach, so I am a bit proud that I managed to keep the streak alive.

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Lazy days

Today is Saturday and I won’t do anything. Think Bruno Mars’s “Lazy Song”. I know, I say that I don’t like Bruno Mars, but I believe that you need to educate yourself in things you dislike. (This post would be written a lot faster if I wouldn’t have to correct every second word because of typos… urgh). Anyway. Bruno Mars… he’s on a level with birds for me. Yes, I have an incredible fear – a phobia really of birds. I read up on them to rationalise or irrationalise my fear, but the smaller the bird, the bigger the fear. And this does not have anything to do with anything. But… lazy song, lazy day.

I woke up later than usual, which is an awesome feeling. During the week I get up at 5am, today I slept until 8.15am. I went to the bathroom and heard voices from downstairs. I was not really concerned and yet, I knew that everyone with male voices in my house was still asleep. I went downstairs and noticed that someone had forgotten to turn off the TV the night before. And that’s how my lazy day started. I sat on the couch and played with my phone while simultaneously watching some thrash TV… Yeah, I like that kind of things to take my mind off everything and anything.

As per usual, I also wrote a morning text to my best friend. And continued doing nothing for 30 minutes. Patrick came downstairs and we had breakfast together. I cleared the table and in his manner, he began doing little things around the house while I got back to the couch and declared that I would not do anything today as I but my feet on the coffee table. I spent 15 minutes finding the right music for the day, then played another game on the phone. (I am maybe too old to play that much, but I have several apps with daily challenges, and again, it keeps my mind off things). I lit two candles and looked around the room. And of course I got up and cleaned the kitchen in depth, put in a load of laundry, swept the floor. Got back to the couch for some mindless scrolling, brought out the trash… and it’s not even noon.

And I noticed, that’s how I do nothing. I put on music, sing along loudly and do chores one by one.

Not doing anything is never an option, although I know it looks like that for my husband or my kids (who, by the way are still in bed… and it is almost noon) because they see me on the couch with my phone. In a couple of moments, I will close my tablet (after having pushed send/publish) and I will make lunch. And this too falls under the category of not doing anything. Because all of what I mentioned is not considered work. I mean, it is. But it isn’t.

And so, I am living my pretend lazy day. And I keep singing. And I keep dancing. And I keep merging stuff on my phone. And I keep in touch with my friends, my people. And I keep myself from overthinking… but at one point everything that keeps my mind off things becomes dull and boring and my mind takes over again.

Something I overthink right now is the blog. It’s December and I have a blog anniversary coming up. 11 years of doing this. 11 years of change and of the same. 11 years. And I keep doing this for me. I like that there are some people interested enough to read my thoughts and my poems and my short stories and all. I really love it. And I love sharing it. Even if it makes me feel vulnerable and fragile sometimes. Even if it makes me feel vain and pretentious some times.

I am not always a nice person, I try to be. But sometimes I seem cold and distant or even uninterested. I am not. I just don’t know how to show that I like people or what they are doing. Like, social media for example. I scroll and read and agree, but I refrain from commenting all that much. Because: who needs my two cents for everything? Why should I comment stuff that does not matter to me personally. My thoughts don’t have any weight in this world. But here, on this blog, they do. Because I trust you. I trust that you know when to stop reading and when to go on. This year, the blog has seen a lot less traffic, and that’s okay for me. I am just sorry to have noticed so many abandoned or deleted blogs. From people who interacted with me as well. I miss their posts and, selfishly, the interaction too.

Yesterday, I also noticed that for the first time in 6 years I have nothing planned to publish for the next year (2024). “Not yet” my person said, and he is right. But right now, I don’t see anything coming up. I’d like to do more with music again. And that photography project is still on my mind too, but I am afraid I am not good enough in either of those things.

Annnywaaay… lazy day. I forgot how to be lazy. I am going to prepare lunch now. Thank you for reading this stream of consciousness. (and it is only a bit passed noon now). I know, my thoughts are never organised, but this is exactly how my mind works. Nothing is embellished or made easier. I think I should apologise for that, then again, I don’t want to apologise for being me. And that’s the essence of what you get on this blog: the most bare and the most authentic version of me. Thank you for everything. xx

https://videopress.com/v/AEy2YGbU?resizeToParent=1&cover=1&autoPlay=0&controls=1&loop=1&muted=0&persistVolume=1&playsinline=1&preloadContent=metadata&sbc&sbpc&sblc&useAverageColor=1
WORD THIEF… the song. All words by me. All photos by me. Music and vocals by Daniel Cavanagh. This video is exclusive on this blog.

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What i love about life

  1. Love: The deep connection and affection we feel for others.
  2. Joy: The pure happiness and delight that brings a smile to our face.
  3. Compassion: The ability to understand and empathize with others’ struggles.
  4. Gratitude: The appreciation for the blessings and abundance in our lives.
  5. Hope: The belief in a brighter future and the potential for positive change.
  6. Forgiveness: The act of letting go and finding peace in our hearts.
  7. Serenity: The calmness and tranquility that brings inner peace.
  8. Wonder: The sense of awe and fascination in the world around us.
  9. Contentment: The satisfaction and acceptance of where we are in life.
  10. Inspiration: The motivation and encouragement to pursue our dreams.
  11. Pride: The sense of accomplishment and achievement in our endeavors.
  12. Trust: The reliance and confidence we have in others.
  13. Excitement: The anticipation and thrill of new experiences and adventures.
  14. Comfort: The sense of security and reassurance in the presence of loved ones.
  15. Solace: The comfort and relief found in difficult times.
  16. Resilience: The strength and ability to bounce back from challenges.
  17. Empathy: The capacity to understand and share the feelings of others.
  18. Nostalgia: The bittersweet longing for past memories and moments.
  19. Affection: The tender gestures and expressions of love towards others.
  20. Satisfaction: The fulfillment and contentment that comes from achieving goals.
  21. Acceptance: The embracing of our true selves and others for who they are.
  22. Peace: The absence of conflict and the harmony within ourselves and with others.
  23. Wonder: The curiosity and fascination that drives our exploration of the world.
  24. Vulnerability: The courage to open ourselves up, allowing deeper connections.
  25. Resonance: The emotional connection and understanding triggered by art or music.
  26. Unity: The sense of belonging and connection with a community or cause.
  27. Determination: The unwavering commitment and persistence in pursuing our passions.
  28. Friendship: The companionship and support we receive from our closest friends.
  29. Relief: The release of tension and worry after a stressful situation subsides.
  30. Growth: The continual personal development and evolution that life offers.
  31. You!
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Light and night

Lights at night or my interpretation of street photography.

Musing:

We all suffer differently. Why do we often think that our pain is more valid and deeper than anyone else’s? It’s not a competition. We live very short lives. Nothing is eternal and one day, everything about us will be forgotten. Hopefully. One day everything that made us special will be gone and every trace we left will vanish into thin air. As if we never even existed.

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it’s Thursday

throwback Thursday, as they call it. There were several random things on my mind for this throwback Thursday. Often, I just go back and share an old thought or post. But last night, I had many memories. And I want to share some with you.

Six years ago, I had just started a new job. Same as now. My hair was long and wavy, and I decided to cut it short. I cut my hair from waist-length to chin-length. For me, it was a huge change. I didn’t have short hair in years, but it felt right. And it felt good. I remember the hairdresser who asked several times if I really wanted to cut my hair and she even called a colleague to assist, saying that she was not used to doing this. But I was daring that way and I was experimental that day. After the haircut, I went to work and since it was October my colleagues first thought that my hair was tangled in my scarf; it wasn’t. Most people were amazed and positively surprised. Most people, Amalia cried when she saw me. She could not understand why someone would cut their hair. And to this day, there is no reason to that decision. I got up that morning and felt like changing my style. Ever since then, I cut my hair short a couple of times, the last time in December 2020. Since then it was growing back and I have almost waist-long hair again. With one change though, my wavy hair grew back as really curly. And I like it a lot that way. I also like my natural haircolour. It’s not red but not brown either. There are orange streaks in my chestnut hair and it is completely natural. Of course, there are more and more greys these days, but that too, I like.

So, six years ago, I was working at a nursery. I worked with babies aged 2 months to 2 years. I loved that job. A lot. Then came the moment I injured my shoulder in late 2018. I remember it exactly, it was at work and I had a kid on my arm who was throwing a tantrum. Something snapped in my shoulder and I was in agony, but I kept working. I only really allowed myself to feel the pain after my shift, when I was unable to bend over to tie my shoes. I went to a doctor. She didn’t touch me, she only said you seem to have snapped the breasts muscle. Loose some weight and it will be okay. But I didn’t trust her. She never touched me or my shoulder. A couple of days later, I saw a different doc who conducted different tests. He let me move my arm this way and that way and on an échographie the damage was clearly visible. He was mad when I told him about his colleague’s diagnosis. And so a long journey began. I had several cortisone injections and was put on extensive sick leave in order to take things easy. I saw a physiotherapist several times per week who help with massages and needling. (Needling is simply put damaging the muscle with acupuncture needles to make them twitch and heal themselves). Nothing worked for more than one week. I only remember 1 painfree week from that time and it was in October 2020. After that my doc said he couldn’t do anything else for me anymore and referred me to a surgeon. Again, I had to take several tests and it resulted in surgery in March 2021. I was in official recovery until July 2021, when I was told that I could never go back to my old job because of unforseen circumstances and new issues with my arm. I was lost, very very lost. And I embarked on a new journey to find a job I liked. I worked with pregnant minors and teen moms. I liked the job, I loved the shifts I worked but I didn’t like the team. I left for a job with Family services. I became a social worker, a case worker. I supervised parents who were not allowed to see their kids on their own. It was an interesting job, but due to my own history, it was very hard on me, and after very few months, I quit. And then, I got back to the start. I went back to were I had worked at the nursery. Same site, different group of kids; I now worked with kids 7 to 12. I felt relieved to be back there, it was like coming home. I stated that it felt like moving backwards to be able to move forward, and I stand by those words. Because after exactly 1 year, I left that place again. This time, it was by choice and with a feeling of closure. Ever since I am working a teaching job with 3 – 4 year olds. In all, in six years, I had 5 jobs. And it is kind of embarrassing, but I also feel a bit proud. I learnt something everywhere I was and I left parts of my knowledge everywhere too. Mainly the last two years shaped my career in a way I never thought possible. But I am glad I dared to quit time and time again. My shoulder issues are still not resolved and most days I am still in pain. But it is okay. I am not sure if the pain is easier to manage these days or if I simply got used to it.

a completely different memory to share is the one about me and music. I used to be a singer in a band. We were two singers, one male, one female. It was a great time, until the men decided they didn’t want a girl in the band and they asked me to leave, because I couldn’t sing and stuff like that. Fast forward to a community called Do it Yourself Hard (DIY Hard) for a compilation, songs were gathered and as a hidden song on there compilation, you can hear me performing a spoken poetry piece. (On Bandcamp, the album is set to private or I would share a link here for you) This collaboration also got me involved in a project called Endling, where I can be heard reading poetry again. But, the highlight of my musical career must be when a band called Weather Systems put one of my poems (the best pessimist) in a song and when Daniel Cavanagh narrated one of my poems. This one is quite special for me and although I am not 100% satisfied with the outcome, I am quite proud that this happened at all. After all, I was a fan of the band Anathema for years. It felt like a great honour. Though I admit, it didn’t do anything to enhance my book sales.

I shared a lot, for now, I think. Next week, I will share more memories. Maybe. Probably.