12 Rules for Life – a gift, a book, from a very dear man who is very close to my heart. My Dad. My Dad wrote to me that he had read a great deal concerning the book (and its author) with the title “12 Rules for Life / An Antidote to Chaos” written by Jordan Petersen. My Dad believes that the book is such an important book, its content covering very different topics ranging from the philosphical to the psychological that he felt that it was important for me to have access to it. His intuition went so far as to make him feel that it was important for him to pass the book on – to me. As he wrote “To you, because I am your Dad”.
So, I embark now on this journey that my dear Dad has set me upon. I have yet to turn the first page but it is my plan to do so tonight. I am intrigued and eager to get started.

My intention is to keep you posted here, my thought is that it is a good way for me to turn over in my mind what I have read. Take it in, digest it and regurgitate it, if you will. At least my humble understanding of it. (And a good incentive to keep me at it 😉 )

Should anyone out there have read the book and have comments or insights to share – feel free to do so in the comments. (Mind your language and be polite.)

Well here goes! Bon voyage to me!

I found a lucky penny the other day.
My lucky penny, in fact a danish krone, skipped right to the task and began to work it´s magic (they are magic!) after being pocketed. I had been wallowing. I rarely wallow for long, explode once in a blue moon but wallow rarely and over several days is unheard of. I had been delving into the depths of negativity in my thoughts the past little while. A fair amount of stress combined with pain and extreme tiredness had resulted in a major case of the blues. On this sunny spring afternoon, I could be found developing and refining the dark side of my thoughts. One wrong word or glance turned in my direction and the tears of self-pity welled up in my eyes ready to spill over.
The shiny “lucky penny” lay before my feet.

Now securely resting in the pocket of my blue wool coat, it made me reflect on this thing called luck. It made me reflect on my life. Yes, it got that deep during the performance of my lunchtime errand. The outcome was memories flooding my thoughts with the many good things in my life and in the lives of my family and friends. My mood lightened as I cast a glance at the blue sky and the bright sun and I smiled gingerly. It was working its charm, my lucky coin. I stepped a tad lighter after the sun touched my face with its spring warmth, arguably tentative, however the warmth was not to be mistaken. My errand completed, my walk approached a jauntily performed hop, skip and jump when back to the office I headed. Not many hours later the journey turned toward home. A rare evening on my own with candles flickering, a simple meal of good bread, delicious soft ripened cheese, a glass of wine and my negative thoughts, those dark clouds looming, were very nearly banished from my mind. Gratefully I bid the world a goodnight. The dreams were sweet and my sleep peaceful. My mind was able to rest for the night. Wonderful magic.

The flowers have at long last found the strength of the sun and are blooming in a magnitude of colours. The rays of the golden globe cast long slender shadows as it snakes its way ´round the trees, sneaking through the bushes, shadows dancing in the waning light. The red of the rose becomes darker, the yellow a hue deeper and the white intensifies with the very richness of the light cast in the last hours of the day.
The small inhabitants of this particular patch of grass scurry about – the last grains of supper to be collected and carefully carried back to the warmth of the underground safehouse. The scuttling of the beetles resonates through the darkening undergrowth. Their armour blue and black in the light. The blackbird sings a warning melody from the safety of the top branch of the fir tree. There is danger afoot. Softly, oh so softly it approaches. Stealthily placing one padded step oh so cautiously in front of the other he approaches quietly along with the darkness. The dark stripes in his coat melt with the shadows created by the waning rays of light. The final rays of the sun gently paint golden hues amongst the darker stripes of his fur. He is nowhere to be seen though he is everywhere.The grass shivers as he passes.
The magpie skreetches a final warning and takes flight leaving the garden´s inhabitants to their fate. The field mouse casts a wary eye over the tiny patch of grass at the entrance to his den. All appears to be in order. Although…
Something tells him that there is danger afoot. The garden community will do well to be on guard this night. He retreats to the safety of his warm home and nestles in with his mate. The threat cannot reach them where they are and they sleep secure in that knowledge.
The silent intruder sits perfectly still. He has observed the little brown mouse and in a split second calculated distance and effort. He remains seated. The mouse is spared, for now.
The gentle quiet of the cool night has descended effortlessly over the garden. The flowers have cast their shadows and now simply stand, their vibrant colours dimmed with the darkness.
The threat gently stretches and yawns. The darkness has brought the dew and the perch that previously was so warm and cosy is now cold and damp. Effortlessly the tiger in the garden lands on the soft earth and makes his way silently through the now black grassland. All observations noted for another time, he pads gently past the sleeping field mice. The now silent blackbird cocks his head eyeing the garden tiger as he treads ever so carefully over the threshold and disappears from sight.

Pleasure
In oh so many guises, sought in so many places.
Discovered in the beauty of the spring anemone displaying in a softly swaying carpet of white.
Found in the giggling laughter of the innocent child.
Shining bright in the bounding playfulness of a young four legged best friend.
Reciprocated in the unbridled passion and joy of newly found love.
Pleasure – given and taken in the enveloping arms of a familiar love, wishing to please, joyful in the moment.
Walking in the soft rain in a fresh spring green forest.
Pleasure, elusive at times, most often uncomplicated if given a chance to be found, in the moment.
This moment, or this…

Thank you for restoring my insanity my luv.  I am wallowing a little too much, a little too often, a little too much me being lost. I needed to touch base today and I followed my gut. So much laughter and love found tonight in the comfort of my home, – in the wonderful spirit of my son.

Thank you for lifting my spirit. Thank you for making me smile. Thank you for helping me find the funny side of living once again.

Thank you for restoring my insanity!

I love you – to the moon and back.

Full moon reflecting its finest light in the clouds above.
The beauty of the moon, and you, take my breath away. I write by the light of the flickering flame of a single candle. The light is soft and warm. It soothes my heart and my spirit. I think of you.
Your smile. Your eyes crinkle in the corner when you laugh. Laugh more.
I yearn for your company, to feel you beside me, to have your arms around me, to have your warmth near, me.
My heart beats faster. My body aches. For you. Your kiss.
My soul wants – you.
Tread carefully, dear heart, with abandon.
Enjoy. Live life. Be here.
Love.

Ingolfs Kaffebar.
Masser af lyde og liv.
Dufte af kaffe og aftenens retter.
Kaffen er drukket.
Pausen er brugt.
Kulden og aftensmørket kalder.
Der kommer lys i vinduerne overfor.
Freden er kommet igen.
Refleksioner.
Kalenderen starter på ny.
Aftalerne i sørt begynder at fylde i de hvide kasser for dagene.
Weekend arrangement i Jylland. Teater. Koncert. Spejder weekend.
Koncert. Venner. Diamant bryllup i foråret.
Livets fremtid i planlægning.
Kærligheden.
Der er ro i maven.
Nuet er god. Hårdt. Udfordrende.
Er i det. Kan være i det.
Lykkelig trods det som er svært.
Hverdagen er nu. Alt er anderledes.
Smiler.
Må videre…

Juleshopping. Inspiration søges i en god cappuccino og en citron muffin. Jeg sidder i den uvante situation at være total blank. Mon ikke kaffen kan kickstart hjernen?

Det myldrer med folk – børn på udflugt for at opleve juleshow, folk som er begyndt deres juleferie og slæntre en tur, folk som mig lidt i vildrede mht at finde på den helt perfekte gave til kære venner og familie.

Synes ikke rigtigt at kaffen rykker på de få fungerende brikker. Der er nok ikke andet for end at komme ud og rode lidt rundt i butikkerne. Jeg må tage modet til mig.

Hvad er egentlig den perfekte gave? Det er til tider vanskeligt at svare på. Det er vel når ens hjerte siger med den største overbevisning – ja det bliver de glad for. Derefter giver man slip. Det bedste er blevet købt, indenfor de rammer der er gældende, og så må man give gaven med kærlighed og glæde.

Julen er en svær scene at danse rundt på. Der er fortid med minder. Nutid med livets udfordringer. Fremtid med drømme og ønsker for at leve evig lykkelig. Jeg tror at jeg nyder det bedst ved at husk at jeg er her nu. Jeg kan kun være her, nu. I lige dette øjeblik. Lykken findes kun her, nu. Lykken er i mig, her, nu. Lykkelig med de udfordringer livet kaster min vej. Lykkelig med de skønne mennesker der er i mit liv. Lykkelig selv med den usikkerhed der findes. Det kan være en rutchebane tur men andet vil være kedeligt.

Pyrus er kommet på scenen ved det smukke lysene træ. Det var ikke med i planen men sådan kan det være nogen gange. Og lige denne gang bringer det smil og grin hos både store og små. Ungerne råber “risengrød”… Hvad ellers? Nåh ja, det er jul.

Where do I go to child of mine
When I disappear from your heart?
The pain is unbearable. I am desperate. Dying.
The flames lick at the very center of my being.
The destruction burns deeply and my wounds bleed furiously.

My beautiful gentle child.
I loved you sight unseen.
My arms enveloped your tiny frame.
I sat at your side while you slept.
I walked with your hand ensconced in mine.
I held you close, a comfort as the tears coursed down your cheeks.
Your love is now hidden amid the petty stones tossed into your heart.
My heart cries out for you.
My beautiful gentle child.

Your words? Your thoughts? I choose not to believe.
Though your tongue splinters the icy air as you utter the words.
Your glance so cold I shiver.
What now?
I am lost, aimlessly stumbling amidst my dreams.
Following paths that lead to emptiness.
I will press on, survive and live my life – shattered heart in hand.
Where do I go to daughter of mine
When your love runs cold and I fade from your heart?
Forever within reach my lovely child. Always, I am here.

I am sitting on my bed.
It is time to sleep. Sleep?? I am out of my mind!
The thoughts are running, jumbled, colliding, all mixed up in my head.
What have I done? Why did I write those words? What was I thinking? Was I thinking? Have I fucked everything up? I am so stupid! Why could I not just leave well enough alone? Why do I let the child in me reign? UGH!!!!!!!!!! ARGH!!!!!
Breathe I tell myself. Hold tight. Don’t jump off the deep end. Breathe.
PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!!!!

We live in a world of constant contact. I am not so sure that this is healthy. In fact, looking at my own reactions today, I am convinced that it can be extremely unhealthy for those of us that have sensitive natures and are prone to anxiety.
We have become used to receiving responses to questions within minutes. Conversations that last all day. We never say goodbye. The sentence is just left hanging in messenger without an end. Questions asked but never answered. Plans half made, never confirmed. For those of us with sensitive minds and sensitive hearts this is devastating. What have I said wrong? Can this be interpreted another way than intended? Why is there no response? Why? What did she mean by that? Have I trod on his feelings? Have I assumed too much? Could I have said it another way to make it perfectly clear? Messages read and reread and read once more, analyzed to the last dot. What have I said wrong since no response is forthcoming? And where do I take it from here? I am left powerless and helpless.

It is difficult to express feelings on messenger and with all due respect probably shouldn’t be done. Oh don’t get me wrong – the expression of them is actually easy enough, the words can write themselves if you so wish. But, but, but…how are they understood? Is the twinkle in your eye seen as you express your displeasure? Is the mild anger voiced, heard as just that? Is the love glimpsed behind the letters? I daresay the wording must be near perfect in order not to be misunderstood.

A telephone call is your voice. The nuances are there to be heard. If not quite understood, they can be discussed. Questions can be raised. Meanings clarified. A face to face over a cup of coffee so much better. The temperature of a conversation can be more easily measured when the particpants are actively involved which they usually are in a “live” conversation. Have we given up on the art of conversing? No. I don’t believe so but the written quick messaging is the favourite method of communicating and I fear that many things can be missed or misinterpreted.

Why my anxiety? I attempted to have a conversation with someone who, for one reason or another, did not participate in the conversation. It was very one sided. I attempted to explain something personal – let me reiterate not smart via messenger and the adult in me should have stepped in but alas neglected to do so – and I still do not know how I was received since I got no response. Was my attempt at an explanation understood as it was meant? Welcome anxiety response level 6. I fully appreciate and understand that there can be an ocean of reasons for the lack of desire to participate but none was communicated. And I am left speculating, feeling vulnerable, with a heart full of love and a head filled with doubt.