What's your gift?

Some people are good at maths, others music, some can draw anything, some can fix anything, some can write poems, some can cook the most amazing food, and so the list goes on.

It is my firm belief that all of us have been given "gifts" and it's up to us to find out what they are.

Some people's gifts are so obvious and all-consuming that once discovered, there is no choice but for the gifted person to follow its lead. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Ludvig van Beethoven, Leonardo da Vinci, Pablo Picasso, Shakespeare, T.S Elliot, Jesus Christ, to but mention a few..(I'm sure you can add a lot more :) But what about us average people? What if we don't know what our "gift" is? How do we find out and do we really want to, and if we do, do we have to follow its lead?

So apart from arts and science, what can those gifts be? Here are some of my suggestions: hospitality, kindness, compassion, listening, helping, fixing, sharing, leading, following, cooking, mending, sewing, knitting, inventing, recognising gifts in others, making others feel good about them selves, making people laugh, generosity both with money and time, strength, helping people resolve conflicts, being able to be with people without trying to change them, making good coffee(amazing gift for us avid coffee drinkers!)and.................(insert here all those you can think of).................................................................................

                      Actors, musicians, and artists gifts can be very obvious and easy to spot, but how about someone with the gift of listening for instance? Who will notice? Well, all those who experience it. That's the thing with the gifts, they keep giving regardless of visibility to the multitudes. Maybe only your partner/friends/parents/siblings know of your wonderful gift of fixing broken things; I think the important issue is this: when you fix peoples things, how does it make you feel while doing so?

When you are doing the something that you may consider a gift, how do you feel while doing it?

(When I paint I often step into a "zone" void of time restrictions, of outside influences. It's just the "image" and my conscious efforts to translate it from an idea to a reality on the canvas.)

Maybe you say: I don't know that I have any gift at all, my question then is: is there anything that you do in your life that you feel passionate about? If your answer is: "Not really..., I don't know....I'm not sure..." Then may I suggest maybe you try a bit of soul searching, you never know what you may find.....?

Often when we are involved in doing things we feel passionate about, we feel more alive, more energised and fulfilled.

And although it's tempting to believe the 'bigger the gift the better', I believe that ALL gifts are big, invaluable and wonderful.

Many say: "life is short so live it", I agree but want to add: "life is short so live it passionately".

Fear is scary...

(I was asked by a friend to write something about fears, so this is a very brief "bit" on this very complex subject.)
                        "It's a windy, dark night and you just missed your train,  and sadly, the next one doesn't leave for another hour. The train station is deserted, and you're the only one there. It's cold so you pull your jacket closer and sit down on a bench. The wind makes strange noises as it whips through the station and the sole functioning light swinging in the wind, flickers bravely. You fish out your "moby" (cell phone) only to discover that the battery is flat. Your eyes scan for a payphone just in case; and there's a phone booth, but the phone is missing".

Often in situations such as the one just described, we may experience anxiety, panic, or fear accompanied with emotional and physical  manifestations. The heart starts to beat faster, our mouths become dry, our eyes dart here, there, and everywhere, scanning for potential danger, as we go in to a "flight or fight" response, ready to deal with a perceived threat. Fair enough, how else would we survive one may ponder.

So, back to the story......"Suddenly you hear someone cough nearby. You quickly try to ascertain where the sound is coming from. Cough, cough...again. You can't see anything, your eyes scan the platform, the phone booth, the stairs, nah...nothing. Where is the person? Your heart is beating twice as fast as normal and you feel extremely uncomfortable. You start to walk towards the sound, because although you are really scared, you have an even stronger urge to find out exactly what your perceived threat is so that you will know what you need to do to protect yourself. Cough, cough....Slowly you draw nearer to the sound. The hair on the back of your neck is standing up, your  mouth is as dry as the Sahara desert, and your heartbeat could give a death-metal drummer a run for his money. You still keep going."

Maybe you wouldn't? Maybe you would view flight as a preferred option? Anyway,.....let's carry on with the story.... "Quickly you glance at your watch; another 15 minutes before the train arrives. Cough, cough....There's a sudden movement behind one of the billboards. What is it? Slowly you edge yourself closer. "The train for Lexleigh will arrive in 15 minutes on platform 2".. suddenly comes over the loudspeaker and you nearly jump out of your skin".

In fight mode all our senses are at peak level, adrenalin is rushing through our system, and our muscles tense and ready for action. Maybe fight is your preferred option?

"You nudge your way towards the billboard...cough, cough again. Hello? you say. No answer. Hello! a bit louder now. Still no answer. HELLO!!!! you shout as you come around the corner of the billboard".

The human imagination is a wonderfully creative and limitless resource. We don't need to be R.R Tolkien or C.S. Lewis or even  J.K Rowling, we all have enough imagination to create monsters, heroes and villains, flesh eating zombies or bloodsucking vampires all of our own.

"Steven? Sitting on the ground with headphones plugged in and rocking along with the music, is Steven, your neighbours son. -'Oh, hi' he says, smiles at you and keeps bopping his head in time with the music in his earphones. -'Hi' you reply and take a deep breath of relief.  You can feel your body relaxing, your heart beating regular again and you walk back to the bench and sit down while the loudspeaker announces that the train for Leixleigh will be arriving in a few minutes".

"Fear is a distressing negative sensation induced by a perceived threat. It is a basic survival mechanism occurring in response to a specific stimulus, such as pain or the threat of danger. Fear is apparently a universal emotion; all persons, consciously or unconsciously, have fear of some sort. In short, fear is the ability to recognise danger leading to an urge to confront it or flee from it (also known as the fight-or flight response)." (from Wikipedia)

      Fear, whether real or perceived, can become a controlling element in our lives if we allow it free reign in our consciousness. Anxiety is often fear of future events outside of our control, experienced as unavoidable, and panic can come from an alarm-response to earlier fearful, "scary" experiences.

Remembering how scared we were, we can experience panic just at the thought of experiencing/feeling it (whatever it was)again. Having said this, let us also remember that fear is a normal human response that protects us by making us aware of potential dangers and alerts us to prepare ourselves for dealing with it.

If we have a fear of the unknown, (lets face it, many of us do...)maybe we can brake "the unknown" down in to smaller, specific pieces and deal with those one by one?

If we fear different "known" phenomenon/feelings/things, maybe we can arm ourselves with understanding as much as possible about those?

Perhaps we can start with finding possible root causes for our fears? For example; if I'm scared of thunderstorms, am I scared of the thunder, the lightning, the loud sounds, the damage those can cause, or maybe something happened during a thunderstorm that now is only remembered as "fear of thunderstorms"? Fears can be scary!!...... however.......if we can imagine monsters, ghosts, and all sorts of hair raising beasts and a plethora of catastrophies, then maybe we can also imagine ourselves as courageous and monster slaying heroes and heroines.

"I'm sorry but......."

"I am sorry" when spoken from the heart and with no buts or excuses attached, can be very powerful, liberating and healing.

A sincere and contritely spoken apology has the potential for new beginnings, for old painful memories to be laid to rest. Question is, why is it sometimes so hard to say sorry?

Maybe its because we don't know how to start, what words to use, were not 100% sure we did something wrong, it was an accident, a slip of the tongue, etc.etc. I recently spoke with someone who during a martial arts lesson accidentally injured her opponent to the extent that he ended up in the ER.

She was feeling very bad for him, that she had hurt him so, yet when I asked if she had apologised for causing him pain, she said: "well, it was a class after all, and accidents happen". Excuses easily slips in, we rationalise, we explain, we surmise, rather than just humbly say: "I am so sorry for causing you pain". Saying sorry indicates accepting responsibility and acknowledging ones part in anothers pain, no ifs, no buts, no excuses, no reasons, just repentance.

And amazingly, when we do so, somehow we feel better. Whether our apology is accepted or not is up to the recipient, our responsibility is for our words and actions.

We may think we have all the time in the world for saying "sorry" for words (or actions) which in hindsight we realise may have come out harsher than we intended,

.................but do we?

We may be waiting for someone to say "sorry" to us for the pain they caused us,

......................but will they?

If there is someone you need to say sorry to, don't wait

life only happens.....

        now.

Pressing the pause button

Do you sometimes feel as if you just want to go somewhere...anywhere ....and just breathe?
 To step outside of your life, or maybe just pause it?
To sit down and wait for your soul to catch up with the rest of you.....
Using the principle of "you visualise it, and your brain perceives it as real", can we take little "time-outs" and head off to the Bahamas, Hawaii, Alaska, or anywhere else one desires? Supposedly yes,...we can do so. Not only that, apparently we can also manipulate time and go back and forth as we please.
We can step back into a joyful, pleasant, memory anytime we want to. Think it, and you're there..
I have a few favourite imaginary destinations that have helped me cope with what at the time may have seemed impossible to endure. For me this is not pretending, ignoring, running away, etc. for me this is just pressing the "pause" button.
Coping. With the intention of pressing "play" when ready.
Have you ever tried taking breath after breath without exhaling? When my son was fighting for his breath during an asthma attack, I asked the doctor what my son was going through:
"Imagine taking breath after breath and never being able to exhale" he said. So I did.
I nearly passed out and felt like a balloon ready to take off, my chest was burning and I experienced definite feelings of panic.
Do we remember to exhale when we are stressed, anxious, panicked?
(Funny we should even have to remind ourselves to breathe properly since breathing air is the first thing a human learns...:)
According to some research, we don't. We hold our breaths. We shallow breathe and don't inflate our lungs properly and so we lack oxygen, which makes us feel lightheaded, which in turn makes us feel xyz........etc.etc....
It has been suggested that even just saying calming words aloud, calms us, brings down blood pressure. Seems too easy I thought so I decided to try it. Well, to my big surprise, it really works! I found as many calming words as I could and just said them out loud: peace, tranquillity, stillness, calmness, restfullness, being undisturbed, etc..while visualising a still clear blue lake, mountains with snow clad tops, a deep green forest on the edge of the lake, an eagle majestically soaring the skies, a cool gentle breeze, and so on....
Are you feeling stressed, pressed, anxious, confused, sad,
or similar types of emotions, why not just press the "pause button" for but a minute and visit your calm place?
Breathe in. Exhale. Breathe in. Exhale.
Peace, friend
Pressing the 'pause button' from time to time may offer us some space, some breathing room, for the inner us..........

On human contact

"As you read this, these lines on a screen

none of our faces,

our expressions

 can be seen.

Yet at this very moment

we are both here

communicating of sorts

in this virtual sphere.

Though I don't know your name

 or where you live,

right now this very moment

my full attention I give.

I want you to know

that you are very loved,

by all that's alive

below and above.

 Regardless of where you are

when you read these lines,

I want you to know

there's purpose to your life.

We all need to be,

known and to know,

to matter to someone

where ever we go,

survive though we may

when we go it alone,

it's through loving

and caring

we come into our own."

til next we meet again

many kind regards,

Citizen X

 

The difference between listening and hearing

Is there a difference between listening and hearing? As far as I can ascertain, hearing is perceiving sound by the ear; the vibrations on the ear drum. Listening on the other hand, seem a more complex  concept involving processing, a conscious effort, focusing and connection through little affirmations.
Listening involves acknowledging that what is happening in someone elses inner world matters.
Have you ever been told: "You never listen, you're not hearing me, that's not what I said", or maybe you have said those things yourself or at least thought them?
Feeling that no one listens to us can be a very alienating experience, a bit like being "naked" while everyone else is fully dressed, but being truly listened to, can be a wonderfully reassuring and validating event.
Why do we sometimes find it so hard to listen to others?
Is it maybe because we can't leave ourselves behind in order to truly focus on the other?
Do we feel unheard/unlistened to ourselves? Do we feel we need to have the answers and we don't?
Does listening involve us becoming more intimate with the other than we desire?
Does listening to others make us question our own situations and lives? Perhaps all the above and then some.......?
Our world is noisy and to find a spot void of sound would prove a challenge I think. Have you ever put in earplugs only to discover that you still hear things? You hear your body sounds, so in order to not go crazy with an overload of information, we learn to filter out sounds not consequential to us at the time. (Interesting side note: Heavy metal music played non-stop very loudly, has been used (maybe still is) as a form of torture of detainees in various institutions. Disclaimer: this statement does not reflect my opinion of heavy metal music) In this world filled with sound how can we become attentive and focused listeners?
In order to improve my own listening skills I have come up with a few possible ideas:

* Be there, be present and attentive to what the other is saying
* This is the other persons time
* Listen to the emotions expressed
* Slip in little encouraging affirmations: "I see, Mmm, yes, and then, etc"
* Listening itself is often enough
* Listening does not require answers only being available

Listening can be a very intimate experience and at times may require a willingness to engage with the reality of someone else, and in doing so, risk being changed by that experience.
The hear something requires functioning ears, to listen requires our attention and participation.

Why are we so scared of feelings?

Who ever came up with the "stiff upper lip" concept has done mankind a great injustice in my opinion. Why is it wrong, bad, weak, to express pain and sadness or bouts of exuberance? The fact that us humans have such great capacity for a multitude of emotions is a valuable asset; a motivating force for many a love song , book, poem and numerous other expressions of art.

Children start their first attempts at communication through crying and we hurry to attend to them. However, as we grow,

boys and girls are given different messages:" big boys don't cry, don't be such a "girl", suck it up, be a man" etc. boys are told, girls on the other hand are allowed to show their feelings although girls like boys are encouraged to "grow up", "be a big girl now".

What is so confrontational/ uncomfortable with showing ones emotions? Or is it something very culturally driven?

Latin temperament, stoic nordes, buttoned-up Brits, boisterous Americans, etc.?

No matter in what language, emotions are emotions and serve a purpose, and words aren't always enough, sometimes there are emotions that can only be expressed through the utterings of the soul.
Have you ever had one of those days when you just feel a bit down, you can't pinpoint a particular reason, you just feel a bit sad?
And have you noticed how quickly others want to help you get over it, fix it?
I am one of those, I usually rush in and want to "fix", whether I have been actually asked or not, but recently I have seen the errors of my way. A close female friend died and in traditional Maori way, there was a wake. It took me quite some time to be brave enough to come and join the family as they were sitting next to the open casket. They were stroking her hair, whispering words of affection, and seemed so very OK with it all. I, on the other hand, was scared, scared of how I would cope, or even if.....
Eventually I made my way to the casket and looked at my friends face. Her family came and sat next to me and just........were there........with me.....so I started to silently cry. No words were spoken, my friends family just quietly allowed me my own expression. What a precious gift to be given in the midst of sadness, being allowed to just feel. No one  tried to "fix" me, make me feel better, or cheer up; they were just wonderfully generous in the middle of their own devastating loss.
All anyone said to me was: "Do you need some water?"
Perhaps like a seed pod which has to burst open for the seeds to be able to germinate, maybe us humans also need to burst our pods at times for us to be renewed, reinvented, re-energised,  or/and revived?
With this I mean for us to acknowledge our emotional temperature, to mindfully allow for our feelings to be known to us, identified and processed, and.......
this of course includes our feelings of joy, happiness, excitement and optimism.
If you're feeling great for no reason at all, enjoy it....if you re feeling positive and surging with possibilities, embrace it.....if you're feeling compassionate for you're fellow humans, share it...
if you're feeling peaceful, treasure it......and if you're feeling a bit sad, be gentle......
don't be in a rush to fix it......
but then again,.....that's up to you.

Get real!

Have you ever had ideas, dreams, desires and such shot to pieces by someone saying: "That sounds good, but it wouldn't work in the real world." Or : "some of us have to live in the real world", or: "in the real world, people work for a living." So what exactly is the real world one may ask. Seems it's somewhere we are all supposed to be and where real life takes place, real people doing real tasks.

Real as opposed to imagined, make-believe or virtual. In the real world there are no pixies, leprechauns, trolls or Harry Potters. In the real world there are taxes, births and deaths. In the real world we rely on our sense-data; a thing is real if we can touch, smell, hear, see, taste it. Or we observe it in a laboratory, poke it, prod it, measure it, etc.etc. then we make a conclusion. So we know what real is; ........... its just that real seems to have moving goal posts to me.

They used to say that the earth was flat; that was real. They used to say humans can't fly; that was real. They used to say bad blood makes a person sick so lets drain; that was real. They used to say a human can't go to the moon; that was real. They used to say there's nothing faster than the speed of sound; that was real. They used to say that nothing can be in two places or be two different phenomenon at the same time; that was real. And so it goes.....see what I mean, moving goal posts..

So, it occurs to me that what is real is in a state of flux, and the concept pretty malleable. Leonardo da Vinci ignored those who told him to be real, so did the Wright brothers, Einstein, Newton, Columbus, Heisenberg, Walt Disney, Steven Spielberg, and all other "dreamers and visionaries" who moved the goal posts. Scientists have been working on a "A theory of everything (ToE) or final theory" which will explain all physical phenomena and how it all hangs together; whats really real so to speak.

Hmmmm........do we want to know? Knowing everything, is that really a plus?

I guess it would give us some kind of control and sense of certainty, but is that what we want or need in life? Yes, some will say, no some, and maybe, or I don't know. That's the great thing, we are all so very different and we all inhabit our own very special realities.

What about adding this affirmation to our vocabs: Get creative!

The ability to adapt has kept mankind going, and to adapt one needs an ability to create, and to create something from nothing, one needs to see things as real before they are. "If you can imagine it, you can make it" someone said.  Well, that's all well and good, you may say, "but someone has to clean the cities, count the money, build the houses, grow the food, nurse the sick, drive the vehicles, etc.etc" and I agree, those are all important jobs. I just wonder if there's not room for dreamers and visionaries as well ? We do need stuff for our bodies, but don't we need stuff for our souls and minds as well? I mean if theres a "real" world, does that necessarily mean we can't have a "creative" one at the same time? Perhaps there is room in our world for all; dreamers, visionaries, artists, as well as builders, accountants, doctors, etc. without attaching more value to either? After all, we travel by planes made by "real" people with "real" jobs, but invented by people who imagined, envisioned the very possibility of such to start of with.

How funny is sarcasm?

What is sarcasm? Collins thesaurus: cynism, biting, backhanded, sneering, acrimonious; saying something but intending/meaning the complete opposite of what was said. "A cutting, often ironic remark intended to wound, a form of wit that is marked by the use of sarcastic language and is intended to make its victim the butt of contempt or ridicule." Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit someone smart has said. So, how is sarcasm funny? And who is laughing?

Some view it as harmless fun, and some are very good at coming up with sarcastic remarks, some find it hard to have a conversation without it, but, how often do the people who are at the receiving end of a sarcastic remark laugh?

I challenged one of my friends who view sarcasm as harmless fun to go one week without using sarcasm in his communication. Although he found it a stupid challenge, he agreed. The first day was very hard for him, he found that he was incorperating sarcasm in virtually all his conversations. The second day was somewhat easier, he was noticing his use of sarcasm before he spoke and could intervene. On the third day he was noticing and intervening, but now he found that he seemed to have run out of things to say.

       The fourth day, he spoke very little and basically just relayed information. On the fifth day of the challenge, he was very frustrated and thought the challenge nonsense, but his brother told me that he felt that he could talk with my friend (his older brother) properly for the first time. Sixth day, my friends girlfriend informed me that she felt "heard" by her boyfriend for the first time but unfortunately later that day, my friend aborted the challenge. "I don't care what people think, I like being sarcastic, I think it's funny, people just have to learn to take it" he said. Hmmmmm.......

Have you ever been on the receiving end of a sarcastic comment? Is sarcasm part of your communication style? So far it seems to me that usually the person making the comment is the one laughing, not so much the person on the brunt of it.

I have toyed with the idea that sarcasm is a way for someone to be nasty without having to deal with the consequences; "Hey, I was just joking, can't you take a joke?" they say when the person on the receiving end gets upset, angry or plain sad. So if the "joke" misfires, just blame the other person for having no sense of humour. Perfect!!, a way to be mean without any responsibility; if  the other person laughs, you're funny, if they get upset they have no humour...no wonder sarcasm is so popular.

Back to my friend who quit the challenge.....I asked him if he felt he had learnt anything from going almost a week without sarcasm. "Well," he said, "I have learned that some people can't laugh at themselves, they are too serious and get upset for nothing". I asked him if he was going to change anything about his communcation style, and he said:"Why should I, they're the one's with the problem, not me," as he winked and smiled a winning smile.

The english language lends it self to sarcasm, so many words are ambigous and just consider brit comedy, how much of it is founded on the ambiguity of the english language? I love brit comedy, Faulty Towers, Monty Python, Absolutely Fabulous etc. however, in day to day living, maybe there could be alternate ways for enticing laughter that doesn't involve putting someone else down.

If some one asks; did you like my singing? maybe not answer: "Don't quit your dayjob!", maybe evaluate how important your answer is, how serious the question was before making a comment.

Although many of us are armored to the hilt and wear masks, underneath there is still a fragile heart.

In the absence of light

During the Depression in the 1930's many people struggled to survive. Many people didn't make it, others did, life moved on. That's what life does, it continuously moves on. Regardless of whether we are jumping with joy or immobilised with pain. I read a story of a doctor who during the Depression walked tirelessly from home to home and helped anybody in need. He didn't ask for any payment, he just helped, comforted and did what he could. In the middle of a drought when nothing grows, with no water for neither beast nor plant, the sun relentlessly forcing all life in to submission, the temptation to just throw ones hands in the air and give up may seem mighty powerful.
Yet, somehow, this is also a time in which the most unexpected brightest lights appears. There are many recorded stories of amazing human feats performed under the most horrifying of circumstances, of insurmountable obstacles overcome, and expressions of compassion extended in times when "save yourself" might have been a safer option.
What is it that compel human beings to risk their lives for others in times of planetary trouble yet in "good" times ignore their neighbor? Does mankind need a threat to the spieces as a whole in order to find that altruistic spirit?
I am an artist, and I paint my impressions of the world in which I live. Sometimes I use a palet exploding with colours, and other times just variations of black and white. Often people ask me: "why do you use so much black, it's so depressing, so dark?" Black offers maximum contrast for all the other colours and so they become even more luminous, is my answer.
Different cultures interpret colours and their importance differently, who is to say white is for birth and black for death? And why attach any prejudice to colours anyway? Actually, what is colour?

"The colour of an object is seen by the eye when white light is shone upon the object's surface. The surface reflects some colours and absorbs others. It is the reflected light (or wavelength) that is picked up by the eye.
The amount of energy in a given light wave is proportionally related to its frequency, thus a high frequency light wave has a higher energy than that of a low frequency light wave.
The higher the frequency, of the colour, the closer together the waves of energy are.
Higher frequency colours are - violet - indigo - blue
lower frequency colours are - yellow - orange - red."

So what then is black or white? Black is the absence of light and white all light, or put another way, minimum or maximum reflection. All the bias attached to any colour is in my opinion highly subjective, so I will leave this topic for now.
Anne Frank wrote:  “How lovely to think that no one need wait a moment, we can start now, start slowly changing the world! How lovely that everyone, great and small, can make their contribution toward introducing justice straightaway... And you can always, always give something, even if it is only kindness!” 
It seems to me that in the absence of light around us, we can find it inside us, bring it out and become beacons, to help light up the world for others.

'Play angels', she said.

A baby girl wrapped in newspaper was found on the doorstep of a bakery high in the Greek mountains.
She had a small piece of paper attached to her clothing with the name Theodora on it.
Somehow she ended up at hospice in a suburb on the outskirts of Stockholm where I was working one summer as a 'music therapist'.
The head psychiatrist at the hospice was a friend of mine and after having read of Anna Grieg, (grand daughter of the great Norwegian composer Edward Grieg), experimenting with music as way of communicating with patients, my friend asked me if I would be interested in doing something similar at the hospice. I was in my second year of music studies, very interested in psychology, loved all forms of improvisation, so I jumped at the chance of exploring this new form of therapy they called "music therapy".
In preparation for this experiment I read books, and then more books, spent hours with my friend just talking about how to do it, watched instructional films and sat in on a few group sessions.
I had always and still do, believed that music is a language free from barriers, that it speaks directly to the mind, soul and body; I was eager to try out my hypothesis.
The first time I met Theodora, rather I saw her; was when she flew by me on her blue bike. She was shrieking with laughter, her hair whipping the air, the handlebar bell pinging, ding-dingely-ding as she passed me in a puff of blue.
There was an upright piano in the hall where I was "teaching". Usually a bit out of tune and with a few keys missing, nonetheless, it was still playable. For more elaborate music I brought a portable record player and some of my vinyls. I had learnt from my students that they all responded to different kinds of music so I carried Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Mozart, Dvorak`, BB King, plus many other artists with me. I would set up in the hall, play the piano or record player, and sometimes Theodora would stop by the door and listen for a brief minute or two.
This particular day something changed. I didn't turn on the lights in the hall, I just sat down at the piano and started to play. Nothing planned, nothing previously composed, just straight from the heart.
I don't know how much time passed, but suddenly Theodora came flying through the hall doors on her bike. Full speed, bell ding-dingely-dinging, hair flying everywhere.
Around and around the hall she went. I stopped playing. She stopped on her bike.
She just stood there looking at me. Suddenly I remembered  something that I used to do on the piano when I was a kid. I would pull my fingers across the black keys like playing a harp, from the top down to the bottom, so I did. As I started to do so, Theodora jumped on her bike and flew around the hall again. I stopped playing. She rode her bike next to me.
"Play more angels" she said.
Which was very amazing since she had never uttered a word before.

What makes the world go around?

The yellow lights are flashing, a woman  huddles under an altogether too small umbrella, the rain is pouring down, her car is omitting a small steady stream of smoke from the front. It's 7 pm and many, many cars on the road, yet nobody stops.

It's a very hot summersday and the dog has been tied up to the bike rack infront of the pub for hours. It whimpers and restlessly sits and stands intermittedly. There is no water for it to drink,  and although many people pass the dog on their way in and out of the pub, yet nobody stops.

A young man, teenager probably, sits at the train station on the ground with a backpack tightly embraced in his arms. His cap pulled down, his clothes torn and his outstretched hand dirty. The voice is barely audible as he begs for money. Many pass him on their way to and from the trains, yet nobody stops.

By the window in the food courts at the big shopping centre an elderly woman sips her coffee slowly. She is neatly dressed, her hair glistening with hairspray and a pastel coloured scarf drapes her shoulders. There's a newspaper next to her coffe cup, opened, but unacknowledged. Numerous people come and go in the food court, some sit next to her, yet nobody stops to talk with her.

The music is thumping, the lights flashing, and the dancefloor full of moving bodies. People excitedly shout salutations across the room to each other. A man is standing at the bar anxiously throwing glances in every direction, but as soon as the door opens, his face lights up. Anticipation makes his eagerness cast a beam like a lighthouse, yet nobody sees him.

Kindness. Self gets put on a shelf, and the other becomes king. A moment of really seeing someone else, acknowleding their situation without prejudice or judgement, and then offering to lay one's self to the side while embracing theirs.

Kindness. Kindness. Kindness. Let's say it again; kindness.

Put self on the shelf and serve someone else.

Like gold, kindness is precious regardless of the amount.

Letting go

"Letting go is confronting all" I heard a Buddhist monk say.

Although there are many layers of thought beneath that statement, it touched my soul and mind immediately. Sounds like a clichee you may say and often cliche's are used as accusations, as throw away words with little depth , but aren't cliche's such because they contain insights and truths? "It's sink or swim" may sound silly when on land but in the water, they are words of truth. "Letting go is confronting all", what are some possible interpretations of those words? (These are just my interpretations and I'm sure you have some of your own...:)

The first thought that grabs me is that to let go one needs to acknowledge all aspects of what it is that is having a hold on us, including the scary, tricky, childish, judgemental, unforgiving, and so forth.

Is there possibly a "payoff" in holding grudges, in not forgiving, in retaining a slow burning anger, in not speaking to that person because....xyz, and so on.

Payoff? How? Letting go of something leaves a big "gap" and sometimes facing a gap can seem scarier and worse than hanging on to a familiar feeling/thought. If the "Smith's have always had a feud with the Browns" then parts of those families emotional life are defined by the feud. If we always felt our parents preferred a sibling often we tend to define our place in the family from that view. So why would we then deem those unproductive feelings as a "pay-off"? Maybe because we prefer what we know to the unknown. Change is difficult, forgiveness is also hard to achieve, allowing for life to just be without trying to control it, a lifelong pursuit. Perhaps if we can identify what we get out of hanging on to a thought that keeps hurting us, perhaps we can find a way to release it?

Are we concerned with payback rather than moving forward? If we consider ourselves righteous and "shadow" free (referring to an earlier post about the shadow)then maybe our stand is that it is they, he/she, that should change/apologise/make up/make the first move, etc. but the big drawback is that if we wait and no change is forthcoming, then we remain stuck in that mindset. So even if you are "right", it will still keep hurting. I read somewhere that forgiving some one is not the same as saying that what happened is OK, it just helps you to move on. So 'letting go' is not the same as saying what happened is OK, its just saying that you are ready to move forward and this can best be achived if all has been confronted/acknowledged/investigated.

If both our hands are filled with grievances how will we be able to paint pictures, play music, write books, sculpt sculptures, stroke peoples cheeks, pat shoulders, clap our hands in appreciation or welcome someone new? Maybe life is not about avoiding pain and suffering rather to accept it and like an oyster, turn in into a pearl.

Is loneliness really a choice?

There are many kinds of cells. Blood cells, cell groups, party cells, isolation cells, cellphones, and so on. According to some research isolation, alienation and lonelieness has become a major issue, along with anxiety disorders in many guises; phobias, panic attacks, obsessive compulsive behaviours, GAD,  to mention but a few. Loneliness can be experienced by anybody, none of us are immune.
Loneliness, even the word sounds lonely, like a contagious disease; "Look out, don't associate with lonely people you may catch it!" Loneliness hangs in the air, it get's under your skin like a chill, and although invisible to the naked eye, we sense it and it makes us feel very uncomfortable.
                             I guess there's a reason for why "solitary confinement" is such a harsh punishment for us humans, we don't flourish neither do we cope very well if the only company we have is ourselves. We like to be part of, to belong, to feel accepted, to exchange ideas, to share, with others. We are herd creatures and with the world shrinking through the world wide web one wonders why then there are more and more lonely people? Why are we more anxious now when knowing as much as we do one could easily surmise that we should feel more sure and secure? Alas, we are not, we are showing up on masse in hospitals, doctors surgeries and medical centres with diverse symptoms of anxiety.
Have you ever wished you could become invisible? Easy, just become homeless, aquire some form of mental health issue, dress badly, be a teenage runaway, a catlady, a baglady, a man speaking to himself, sit in a wheelchair, be fat, be old, be foreign, in short, there are many ways in which we run the risk of becoming invisible.
 The Beatles sang in the song Elenor Rigby:

Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice
In the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream

Waits at the window, wearing the face
That she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Well, they are possibly most us at some point in our lives......which for me begs the question: is this part of the human condition and is there a cure? Gandhi said: "Be the change you want to see in the world". Mother Teresa saw the invisible people in Calcutta and through her actions they became visible to us. There are many organisations who tirelessly forge on to help us open our eyes and see the invisible people. Maybe there is someone you know who struggles with loneliness, who battles with anxiety, who would be glad for a call, an email, a letter, or a visit?
Sometimes the smallest gesture of kindness and interest can change a life, can make someone invisible, someone visible.



             
           

What Shadow?

 

                

Carl Jung (26 July 1875 – 6 June 1961) was a Swiss Psychiatrist, the founder of analytical psychology and arguably the first modern psychiatrist. In Jungian Psychology, the shadow or "shadow aspect" is a part of the unconscious mind consisting of repressed weaknesses, shortcomings, and instincts."Everyone carries a shadow," Jung wrote, "and the less it is embodied in the individuals conscious life, the blacker and denser it is." (paraphrased from Wiki)

This painting is called "Carl Jung's nightmare" and is a representation of a person confronting his/her shadow.

Have you ever dreamt that you did something that you would never do while awake? Have you ever daydreamed that you would tell that person who puts you down exactly what you think of him/her? Have you ever lied, exaggerated the truth, lost your temper, slammed a door in someones face, walked out on a conversation, defended an action you feel bad about, etc.etc? Say hello to the Shadow.

Although one likes to believe that one is decent, respectful and basically a "good" person, Jung suggests that we all have a shadow and that the more we pretend otherwise, the darker it becomes. So how do we confront or even identify the shadow? Is it not OK to get angry, speak up or embroider the truth at times? I'm reminded of something I read: you know a tree by its fruit, an apple tree does not have oranges.

What happens to our perception of ourselves if we lie, behave aggressively, cheat, insult, belittle, and deceive? Most of us feel bad and so often we become tempted to rationalise our behaviour and find ways to ignore that inner voice pricking our conscience, reminding us that maybe we behaved "badly". "Yeah, but......, if X wouldn't have, then......., I was provoked, he/she started it, if nobody knows, who does it hurt?....etc.etc. we tell ourselves because there are endless ways in which we can make an "apple into an orange".
Is it possible to get to know the shadow, and if so, how does one do it? Perhaps one possibility may be to acknowledge those thoughts and feelings one usually suppresses, not in order to act upon them rather just to observe.
"Wow, what I just said was mean, why did I say that? Boy, I really lost my temper! where did all that anger come from? I should have told the truth, why did I say nothing?" as but a few examples. Could we assume that the more conscious we are of our shortcomings, weaknesses, the "lighter" the shadow becomes?

Which leads me to the next hurdle, why is it so hard to see our own shortcomings but oh so easy to see others? Let's leave others for the time being and just focus on ourselves, on how we can deal with our own shadow. Like Michael Jackson sang: "I'm starting with the man in the mirror........" Could it be as easy as to question our responses, to query if our behaviour is in line with our conscience? (This is a very complex issue, so evidently it's not easy....lol)
If our conscience tells us we wouldn't like someone to say, do, behave in a certain way toward us, chances are others wouldn't like it either. If our "bad" self misbehaves maybe we can ask our "good" selves to deal with it, to illuminate the shadowy recesses of our subconscious.

(PS. When I painted the painting I did not have all this going on in my head, or did I? Only the Shadow knows.......)

The chewy quality of hope

Have you ever had chewing gum stick to your shoes? Did you try to remove it and when you did it became longer, stringier but still stuck? Have you ever tried to remove chewing gum from someone's hair and when you did the person screeched with pain and pleaded for you to leave it in, pleading it would come out eventually anyway? And have you noticed that there are black spots on most pavements and on the ground of train stations and other waiting spaces? Old chewing gum most of it.
Seems to me hope is a bit like chewing gum.
When fresh it's bursting with flavour, texture and possibilities but after having been chomped about for awhile your jaws are tired, the flavour gone and although the texture is perfect for blowing bubbles, basically your'e just going through the motions.
It has been suggested by many that without hope, mankind dwells carelessly and without purpose.
So what is hope and how is it different from expectation? Let's ask Collins (dictionary/thesaurus).
Hope= to desire and expect, to have belief/faith in; expectation=hopeful anticipation of desired event, prediction, assumption, surmise.
Do you hope for the train to arrive on time or do you expect? Do you hope for the sun to come up every morning or do you expect it to? Do you hope for other drivers to follow traffic rules or do you expect them to? Do you hope for friends to be loyal or do you expect it of them? And what about ourselves, do we hope for as little as possible pain and suffering in our own and loved ones lives, or do we expect it? (Ofcourse, it is very possible to both hope and expect at the same time. We can be expecting A to happen while we still hope for B.)
We hope to win the lottery because expecting to do so seems a bit far fetched(unless ofcourse you bought every ticket). Perhaps when we expect an outcome, we think we play a part in it, we have some perceived rights vested in the result.
Now hope on the other hand can contain a paradox; let's say we are told by our doctor what to expect and the prognosis we are given, not good, yet we may still hope for a different outcome in direct opposition to the expectations we were told to have. Hope looks at the hopeless and says; don't give up. Hope whispers: keep searching. Hope encourages: you can do it, just believe it. Hope leads: you haven't tried this, that, those, etc. before. Hope includes in it's vocabulary: maybe, perhaps, possible, potentially, plausible, could be, wait and see, and many more similar words.
Like the gum stuck to the shoe, hope sticks, it adapts. So you didn't win the lottery, but will you still buy another ticket? My guess is that you will. So your friend let you down, will you give him/her another chance? Your child messed up, will you forgive? Your team lost, will you quit on them?
Hope, like chewing gum "stretches" with our pulling. When we expect an outcome on the other hand, we often find it harder to be lenient, and the words "should/ought to" hiding somewhere in the recesses of our minds.
Once what we are" hoping for" has been transformed into what we are "expecting" then the only acceptable outcomes are the ones we deem "right". (The "black spots" on the pavement can be likened to unfullfilled expectations, rejected and spat out; ie the gum/hope has lost it's flavour and function.)
Hope like chewinggum can also be used as a sort of "glue". Dreams and realities can be held together with hope, so can darkness and light, despair and joy, suffering and contentment.

I heard someone say: "Hope is dangerous" but I dispute that, I believe that having no hope is very dangerous. Maybe you feel like your "gum" has lost all it's flavour and feel ready to spit it out, but let me offer an alternative. Get a new gum .......

While there is life there is hope--and while there is hope there is life.
(E. E. HOLMES, Joyful Through Hope)

Imagine that.......

Where do you go when you need to think, to regroup, to lick your wounds or just take a 'time out?"
Do you have a special space you go to or do you have a "space/place" in your mind? Or maybe you don't have a need for either? Imagination can be a wonderful device for time travel, exploration, creation and many other amazing positive feats, however, it can also be used to our detriment.
We hear a bump in the night and imagine all sorts of scary intruders, or someone is unusually late and we imagine accidents, or your heart behaves oddly and the imagination conjure up all sorts of dreadful diseases, etc. etc.  Then there is general anxiety, where the imagination runs crazy and everything becomes a cause of concern for us.
Statistics show that we are becoming more and more anxious about everything. We worry nonstop, well, not everybody, but a whole bunch of us. It is interesting that in a time when we have more leisure time than previous generations, we seem to use much of our time to worry rather than "play" more.
Maybe there is possibly a drawback with having more information, knowledge and insight in to the ways of the world? Perhaps knowing just how many things can go wrong, fail, or some such, rather than being of comfort induces more worrying in some of us?
However, the same brain that imagines all manners of horrors can also imagine the opposite. Trick is to find a way of using one's imagination in a good way, a way that makes life more manageable rather than a maze of potential dangers. (If your house is on fire, get out don't stay and imagine something else!!..)
We usually don't recognize immediately when our imagination runs riot with us, often we experience those thoughts as realistic, accurate assumptions, only to seem outrageous in hindsight.
And this applies both to imagining either failure or success, winning or losing, real or perceived threats. According to some researchers the brain does'nt actually know when we visualize something (imagine) or whether we are actually doing it,  the assumption is that we can affect a desired outcome/goal, by visualizing it as a done thing. Artists and other visionaries have been doing this for years and where would mankind be without imagination?

So, does the Carribean sound good to you? Maybe Alaska? The Amazone? If you can imagine it, your wonderful "time-travelling flying machine" called the brain, will take you there.

Why did I respond that way?

Viktor Frankl, the author of "Man's search for Meaning" survived four years in a concentration camp but not only did he survive, he came out of the camp with his Logotherapy and formed what is arguably called "The fourth Vienese school of Psychology".  At the time of the author's death in 1997, the book had sold 10 million copies in twenty-four languages. Frankl concludes that: "the meaning of life is found in every moment of living; life never ceases to have meaning, even in suffering and death".
So I will join the many who have found this book immensly helpfull by quoting:

"Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way".

Let's ponder a few scenarios:
 Your new cell phone suddenly is nowhere to be found,  your partner quickly shuts down the computer screen when you enter the room, your best friend don't call for weeks and all your calls go to the inbox,  your happy child suddenly is withdrawn and sullen,  your teenage child suddenly gets a tattoo, you're sacked at work without notice, how will you respond?..(this list is endless)
What if we could choose a mindset, a response? What if before we react we could choose how we are going to respond? Here is some really good news,....we can. 
It takes discipline and will power, but we can do it if we want to and the first step to take that I have found very helpfull, is to take a deep breath, hold it for a few moments, then exhale purpusefully.......focusing only on the breathing.
Our emotions usually want to have the first say, but what if don't let them? What if we think first?
Ah, but our thinking is very infuenced by our emotions you may say, so how do we seperate them? Maybe we identify our thoughts? So we may have: objective=dealing with facts and figures only; subjective/pessimistic= why it's doomed to fail, what is wrong with it;  positive/optimistic= why it's going to work, what is right with it; emotional= the feelings attached; and rational= taking all into account/overview, decide what outcome is desired.
Maybe to some of us this sounds like a lot of work and yes, there is work involved but let's consider the possible gains. Chosing how you will respond offers you a sense of empowerment, of keeping you focused on the desired outcome, of controlling your feelings rather than vice versa, of understanding the decision making processess underlying your responses.
How we will respond to any given situation is up to us and as we chose, that choice will then determine how we cope.  "Life is like a box of chocolates, Life is what happens while we are busy making plans, Life only happens now, Life is suffering, Life is but a dream" to just quote a few, but the fact still remains, we chose our attitude, our response, and our life will be a reflection of that choice. I will let Viktor Frankl have the last word;

"Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom".

Growing wings

In a small town called Whisper a man called Pavlov Ivanovich was laid to rest. The only one's present was some passing birds, one man and a woman with a young child. The man in the grave was known only to the manager of the small boardinghouse where he had lived for the past two years and Livvie who served him coffee in the local coffeeshop every morning. Nobody seemed to know exactly when he first appeared, he just showed up one morning, with an old battered violin case tucked under his arm, wearing an overcoat that could fit two people in it and a hat that seemed as old as him. He used to always sit at the same table, slowly drinking his black coffee and quitely speaking to his violin case which he used to place on the chair next to him. Although Pavlov never answered any of Livvie's questions, she always asked him how he was and if he slept well. The town got used to the odd fellow with his violin and he no longer caused worried looks or hushed whispers.
Every night at 7 pm Pavlov would open his violin case and pull out his violin. He would play for exactly two hours. The music he played sounded wounded, fragile, haunting, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
People of the town who mostly enjoyed country music at first called Pavlov's music "cat's screetching" but as time went on, many started to stop by and listen. They would sit on the grass in the park infront of the boardinghouse, stare at the little window from which both music and light streamed forth.
Nobody would speak, people would just quietly come and go while notes of music took flight into the air like glistening, glowing, luminous fireflies.
Livvie had on occasion tried to strike up a conversation with Pavlov, but he would overt his eyes and quietly mumble something in broken english, so Livvie decided to just speak at him, not expecting any answers. Time passed and Pavlov became part of the town although nobody knew anything about him except for his name which he had written in the ledger when he took on his room.
When Pavlov didn't show for his coffee one morning and there still was no sign of him at lunch, Livvie became worried, closed the coffeeshop and walked to the boardinghouse.
"Bruce, have you seen Pavlov this morning?" she asked the manager.
Bruce looked up from his paper, "He's not been for his coffee yet? he answered.
"No, and it's almost two o'clock now, I'm worried Bruce".
"Can we please check his room and make sure he is alright?" Livvie asked.
Bruce put down the paper and grabbed his keys.
They walked the three flights of stairs to Pavlov's room and with each step an increased sense of urgency.
"Pavlov, are you ok? Pavlov?" Livvie asked.
No answer.
"Pavlov, this is Bruce, please open the door, are you ok mate?"
Nothing. Bruce tried the door and it opened.
Pavlov was lying on top of the bed, fully clothed, with the violin caressed to his chest. In the open violin case there was a note. Livvie suddenly found it hard to breathe so went to open the window while Bruce picked up the written note in the violin case.
"Dear Livvie, my english is not so good so please forgive me the spelling. I want you please to have my violin. You have always been most kind to me. I have heard you speak of your son wanting to learn to play so I would be a the happy man if your son would use mine. I was given the violin by my papa and since I no longer have a family I would love for a the violin to have a new home. Please not worry, I have been a sick man for a long time, I knew this was coming. Many thanks, Pavlov Ivanovich."
Livvie and Bruce looked at each other quietly. Gently Bruce removed the violin from Pavlov's arms and put it back in the case. Livvie, still clutching the note in her hand kissed Pavlov on the forehead.
"I will contact John and get him to come", Bruce said softly.
"I will pay for the funeral", Livvie responded.
For a moment they both stood in silence looking at the man on the bed.
Suddenly a small finch flew in through the open window, briefly rested on Pavlov's chest then flew out again.
Two weeks after the funeral Livvie's son came up to her and asked: "Mum, what does Stradivarious mean, it says so inside my violin?"

Close the door, I've got the blues

You step out of bed and you just know it's going to be one of those days. The first indication was that the alarm didn't go off, the second that you tripped on your shoes, the third when you couldn't squeeze any more toothpaste out of the tube, the fourth when you burned the toast, the fifth when you got stuck in traffic and the sixth was the phone call cancelling the appointment that you were rushing to get to in time. Does this sound familiar to you? Maybe there are variables, but basically, are some days destined to be "bad" days?
Is there such a thing as a bad day or is it all a matter of perception?
 Have you noticed how when you're a bit down how many people seem to be offering suggestions for how to "fix" it?  -"Snap out of it! There are others worse off than you, Why should you get off scottfree, Just get on with it everyone has bad days" they say. Is feeling a bit down, sad, quiet, depressed, dissappointed, low etc. not acceptable? Is the status quo for a human that of displaying contentment and an eternal "can-do" attitude? Is feeling sad only acceptable in the quiet of your own space? Is feeling disappointed contagious? Is feeling "blue" the wrong colour, maybe we should always feel crimson? :)
So, you're sitting in your car, stuck in traffic, it's noisy, smelly and you're feeling angry. You feel disrespected, inconviened, frustrated and a bit sad since you have been looking forward to your appointment. Strangely as it may seem, you realize that you feel a sense of loss and often this is when the battle between one's expectations and what really happens (= reality some may call it, I prefer not to use the word because it's highly dubious and subjective in my opinion) begins. It's been suggested that the level of difference between our expectations and what really is, determines how we feel about something.
Maybe we expect people to play fair, to obey rules, to be honest, to have certain work ethics, to show courtesy, to be loyal, etc. and if we feel that others fail in fulfilling those (to our satisfaction)we can often feel disappointed, let down.
So you were looking forward to meeting up with your friend, talk about the old times and reconnect, but your friend just cancelled the meeting (while you were already on the way!) without giving you a reason and now you're feeling disappointed and by the time you have untangeled yourself from the traffic and arrived back at your place, you're feeling "blue". What would you do in this situation?
                  Would you tell yourself that you'll suspend sentencing your friend until further information, would you go through a list of slights incurred by this friend on you before, would you feel angry, would you just dismiss all such thoughts, would you reach for a panecea, or would you go back to bed?
Perhaps all those responses are ok? Perhaps if we allow ourselves to feel what we feel intuitively and not immediatedly start to "edit" our responses (if we think we should) then maybe there's less chance of us being unwittingly held by them?
 "Pain is a very efficient teacher" some say and maybe we shouldn't be in a rush to dismiss pain's lessons. Regardless of what kind of feelings we have, perhaps feelings tell us about us from the inside out.
Now, where did I put that B.B King cd?

The risk of caring

"Nothing worthwhile was ever achieved without an element of risk" I heard someone say, or maybe I read it somewhere, nonetheless it rings true to me. Every time we drive somewhere in our car, hop on a train, plane or other form of transportation, there is always the risk of an accident. When we buy a late night pizza, grilled chicken, kebab, or any kind of food item, there is an element of risk of food poisoning. In short, basically living constitutes a risk.
Maybe we face less risks in this century than in previous, perhaps we know more about potential risks and preventions, we certainly are making headway with understanding many illnessess and their causes.
One risk though that has always been with mankind regardless of century, is the risk of caring.
Anytime we take the risk of becoming emotionally involved with another human being, there is always the risk of rejection, abandonment or loss. How many songs are written about it? How many books, how many poems fill page after page about the cost of caring? (I will write about the rewards of caring in another blog, this one is about the risks....)
Seems that regardless of the potential for rejection, abandonment or loss, we still take the risk.
Human beings are herd creatures so they say, we like to belong, be accepted and included, and in order to do so we must reveal parts of who we are. In every encounter with someone new to us we reveal a bit of ourselves and they do the same, both understanding that we have to be willing to risk being rejected in order to be able to be accepted. Often it works well and we continue the transaction of exchange and become "friends"or at least friends of sort, but what happens if we are rejected?
What if I offer myself to somebody and they reject me, or ignore me or make fun of me?
This is going to happen, this is a certainty, because this is part of the human condition. At some point there will be somebody who will reject you, you will lose somebody because people die, people make fun of each other, and there will be times when you will be ignored. Living is risky business.
But this is why living is living and not just existing. Existing, crudely put,  could be called a zombie life, you're dead you just don't know it.
 Remember that thing you did that you were terrified of doing but you did it anyway and how good you felt afterwards?

"Curage is not the absence of fear, rather doing that scary thing in spite of fear".

Caring for anything involves an element of risk but also an opportunity for courage, for friendship, for a partnership, for teamwork, for altruistic pursuits, for compassion, for new skills and hobbies, for healing broken relationships, and many many more possibilities.
Caring for others always offers growth and rewards.  Even if rejected, we have been given the opportunity to learn that we have courage, even if not accepted we have been given a chance to learn of others and our own limitations, and if ignored we have the prospect of finding ways of becoming more visiable.
Caring for someone, others or something, although including elements of risk also always include potentials. Potential for a loving relationship, a great friendship, a well functioning team, a fullfilling hobby/skill, overcoming fears, and many many more wonderful outcomes.
So "risk" upon a closer look perhaps could be viewed as an opportunity, you choose.......

I've reached my goal, now what?

So, now that you've reached the summit, where to next? You've reached your goal, and although it brings a sense of satisfaction and fullfillment, you're left with a sense of loss. Some say that it's the journey that's important that the things we learn as we work our way towards achieving our goals that matters. Maybe that's one of the reasons why so many people who win large sums of money in a lottery or some other similar way find it hard to cope with their new status. Earning our rewards in which ever form they may come, perhaps is an important factor.
So when we have been motivated for years to achieve our goals, but now that we've reached them, then what is going to motivate us again? In the interim period of having reached one goal, and finding the next one, what happens? We go searching. We turn inward and try to discover what is important to us.
Perhaps we ask ourselves; "if I was not able to do ...............(insert here what's important to you),how would I feel?" Sometimes the thought of options that will no longer be available to us help us understand what really matters. A question commonly asked is: "if you had your life to live again, would you do somethings differently"?
If you answer yes then perhaps those things you would like to do differently, are worthy of some consideration?
Every new day is an opportunity for doing things differently no matter what we did yesterday, because today is a fresh new start full of new possibilities. Whatever happened yesterday we can not change, all we can ever really change is our attitude to the way we view things, actually, I think that that may be our one true freedom; the freedom to chose how we will respond. So, now when you've reached your summit, will you find another "mountain" to climb, or maybe you will find an ocean to sail, a desert to cross or a forrest to forge?
The intial stage of finding new goals may feel a bit like being on an ocean in a matchbox, but is it necessarily a bad experience? One aspect of humanity which I find very marvelous is mankinds ability to adapt, so while you're in a matchbox, maybe relax and allow for your inner self to reveal new possibilities? Maybe you will remember that once you wanted to be guitarist, a glass blower, a dressmaker, an author, a sports coach, a teacher, a lawyer, etc.etc. All possibilities entertained, nothing discarded as foolish or impossible. Nourishment comes not only as food for the body but also as food for the soul and mind, and I for one, believe we need both.

What's the purpose of art?

We live in a world that's very well understood and much of it's mystery explained,
but maybe we need thing's we can't explain.
Perhaps art exists not to "tick off" (as in a mark of completion) the things we know, or to regularize and define beauty, or impose a system of order on it.
Perhaps art exists to frustrate, challenge, mystify, to nourish our imaginations and top up our rations of wonder. What could be more precious in an overexplained world than the inexplicable?
Give yourself the chance of being mystified, of not wanting to know rather just experience. Give yourself the opportunity to just listen to the music, let it wash over you like waves of an ocean. Look at a painting without reaching for a narrative, just allow your eyes to drink in the vision. Look around you, look at nature, the masterpiece of all forms of art; nature, always reinventing itself, offering mystery, magic, an explosion of colour and sound, take time to appreciate it. Although all these i-thingy's are amazing in reproducing copies of the real, the real is still available for us. Give yourself permission to listen to the wind, the ocean, the birds, or to the many other sounds nature makes, give yourself the permission to gaze at the sunset, or sunrise, the way raindrops dance on leaves in a sunshower, flowers in bloom, the crystal blue sky with it's marshmellow clouds. Give yourself the permission to use your senses for the enrichment of your appreciation of just being a human. Of the many ways we learn, the most efficient way is through experience.....and art, is an outward expression of an inner experience.
Go on, smell something, listen to something, look at something, touch something, take advantage of being a human. For a brief moment, allow yourself to be swept up by nature's art, on display for us everyday. Ignore the "why's" and just take time out to just be part of the mystery called life.
Now, close your eyes and just listen to the sounds around you...........

To change or not to change, that is the question

Before Columbus was allowed to sail off in search of new discoveries, he was given the task of making an egg stand up. (an ordinary hens egg) A number of dignitaries were sitting at a large table, all waiting for Columbus to fail the task because everyone knew that you can't stand an egg upright. Columbus looked at the egg and the faces full of smug confidence then smashed the egg on the table, top up,  "there", he said, "the egg is standing". The dignitaries stood up, "this is an outrage, you're braking the rules, anybody could have done this" they shouted. "So why didn't you?" he asked. Columbus set sail and the rest is history as they say.
Did he cheat? Did he brake the rules? Well, if he had been given rules and variables and smashing the egg was braking those, then yes, but none was given. He was given a task, he performed it successfully according to his understanding of it.
Could it be that one possible reason for change being so difficult is that we don't know the new "rules"so to speak and once again we will face the scary "unknown". If I know myself as builder, what will I be if I don't build? If I know myself as a drinker/smoker/binger/etc. what will I be if I stop?
If I always sleep on the right side of the bed, will I be comfortable on the left? If I only like this kind of music/art/movies/people/sports etc. what will happen to me if I suddenly find myself drawn to ballroom dancing/chess/hiking/travel/etc? Fear of the unknown seem to me to be a large part of our resistance to change, another seem to be getting out of our comfort zone. How much discomfort are we willing to put up with for change to take place?
Perhaps it's like searching for a lost housekey under the streetlight because it's better light there? Seems change is impossible without there first being a certain amount of discomfort, of adjustment, of new thinking, new behaviour patterns. Increasing our tolerance for discomfort and the unknown, may help us to embrace change and view it as an opportunity, a challenge, rather than a threat, an enemy to be resisted at any cost. The only constant in life is change some say, so resisting it would be futile. Viewing "change" in whatever guise it appears as an opportunity for growth, for learning new things about ourselves, for discovering strengths we didn't know we had, may fill our sails so we also like Columbus may sail off in discovery of wonderful, unknown new experiences.

It's hard when your'e strange

The jazzclub was still closed. There was a nasty cold wind and the man with the white saxophone squeezed into the doorway trying to get some respite. He always wore a strange looking woolen hat, a huge overcoat that made him look like a scarecrow and always carried with him, the white altosax. Wherever there was jazzmusic on offer, there he was. A solofigure in clothes too big, and an instrument as his devoted companion. I got used to seeing him in the club, sitting quietly in the front, listening, sometimes smiling, always rocking in time with the music.
 Most of the musicians who played at the club seemed to know him, they often would give him a friendly pat on the shoulder, whisper a quiet word in his ear which would make him smile. I never saw him drink anything but water, I never saw him drunk or "high", he was always an island unto himself, always alone. The club was often very busy so as a barmanager I seldom had time to sit down and chat with people, besides I was very young and bad at chitchatting, however, this quiet, unassuming man got to me...I needed to know more about him.
Most of my life I have been a sort of "outcast", I've never seemed to fit in anywhere and my love of jazz; a love affair that virtually began at birth, didn't really work in my favour when everyone else was listening to rock music. This man seemed to me as if he also fitted in to the outcast category which made me wonder what the criteria may be for being accepted in the "in-cast". Agreeableness? Conformity? Extroversion? Good self-esteem? Play well with others? Hmmm.
I have to admit that I didn't feel comfortable around him, I didn't know how start a conversation and I was unsure of how he would respond if I did start to speak to him. Could it be that we feel more comfortable with people who behave and respond in a for us predictable manner and so to be included by the "in-cast" could mean behaving according to a particular set of rules, acceptable and confirmed by the members of the "in-cast"?
Us humans seem to need to be part of a group, we need to belong, yet we simultaneously desire autonomy. Being accepted by our peers validates us, being rejected hurts us.
Could it be possible to belong and still remain autonomous? The man with the white saxophone seemed to be able to do so, because the musicians treated him as one of them, yet I never saw him play with them. I was told by one of the muso's that he came from a very wealthy family and that they supported him financially. He knew everything about jazz, knew everybody who played it, and went to all the jazz festivals in Europe, basically Jazzmusic was his life. His passion and committment to the music gave him a pass to the "in-cast", although strictly speaking, he didn't follow the rules. Maybe it's ok to be both a team-player and an individual, maybe it's ok to conform but keep bits of strangeness, maybe it's ok to be agreeable but not sell out your integrity, maybe it's ok to not be accepted by everyone, as long as you accept you.
Sidenote:
What was the name of the man with the white altosax? Well, it doesent really matter, besides, it's in swedish and doesn't translate well into english, so how about: ........ Mr Jazz......