vrijdag 29 maart 2019

Uplift Yourself

As you could read in my previous (uplifting and joyous) post, I sometimes feel like I can't deal with life's challenges no more.
By times I just wanna curl up in bed, cuddling (and binging on) a six pack of Cara, leaving my smelly dishes on the counter and keep the curtains closed (for a week).  

Although I would like to see it otherwise, I'm not (yet) able to fly high on the clouds of unconditional love and imperturbable empathy every single moment of every single day.   

Nope, I'm just being me, rocking my best Fallible Human Mode. (Mmm... should I trademark this one?)

However hard I try to fight it, whenever I land in that place of heartbreak, in that Sound of Silence kinda mode... I tell myself it's OK to just wallow in self pity for a moment.

I tell myself I don't have to figure out this very moment that parental issue, that relationship, that future plan, that got-to-get-my-whole-life-planned-out-right-this-very-minute,....

I just try to master the moment...the day... and than try to do that the next day and the day after that and the day there after...   

If I feel sad or agitated (or feel like going Chainsaw Massacre on someone), I just try to think about something nice.  You can try it too... Like think about that dream last night, where that colleague you hardly know was breaking your back and now your face lights up like an effing lighthouse whenever you run into him visualizing 'Daddy's' King Kong.... or that extra chocolate cookie you got with your coffee the other day... yogi's choice.

I just try to force myself to think about happy stuff so much so, that at one point I hope it will just come so organically to me that when stuff gets all White Squall on me, I can feel the sun's warmth breaking through the storm and soothing my desperate skin.

Also, it is not highly recommended to flee from every situation or person in the 'this is not serving me' mindset as that would definitely enhance your chances of dying alone at the end, your decomposing body nibbled to pieces by your starved lap dog named Brutus.

It is more favourable to look the beast in its raven eyes and to tell it: we shall settle this together.
We shall settle this together with kindness, with love, with mutual respect.
We shall manage and master conflict instead of running for the hills like we are so used to doing. 

Try to think about the half dragons/half phoenixes we all are...
Think about the courage, the guts and the unstoppable strength we all harbour inside to exterminate those ugly ass roaches of issues.
(Slaying is a must as if thou shallt fail at this essential part, thou shallt keep on encountering the same issues and/or people, only now multiplied like rabbits on Viagra, transformed from roaches to Godzillas.)

Jacking up our self worth, focussing on that one good thing this shitty something or pukeable someone once did for us as well (I know it's hard, you cute little fellow haters, but come on... we can do this), to forgive, to respect and to be kind during conflicts encountered... Those are the keys to unlock the door to Swagger Enlightened.

Anyway, whatever you think, whatever you do... You do you, boo, and always try to remember one thing: that one day or that one moment doesn't define you or your life.  Read that again.

One fuck-up, being fucked up or getting fucked, does nót define you or your life experience.

This heartbreak / pickle / hurdle is nót your ever after.

You sháll overcome.
You sháll prevail my dearest sisters and brothers.

Namaste.

X



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maandag 25 maart 2019

Weary

Sometimes I feel like I can't do this anymore.  This life.  

All well and good probably when you have enough sleep, eat well, exercise,...  But honestly, which working parent is fortunate enough to benefit from these luxuries?

How can you mentally cope with difficulties at work, challenges that occur whilst trying to raise kids or people you love treating you like a disposable (eco)bag, when chronically exhausted?  

I can't.  I really can't sometimes.

And this lack of love.  This absolute lack of love.

Some people are so intensely preoccupied with themselves and so focussed on all the bad and negative in the world and in others...  So blindly involved with their own lusts and lives they don't have any eye whatsoever for the ones next to them.  They just feast on everything they can acquire whilst at the same time neglecting all the things and people that réally matter.

Not hearing anything when they pretend to listen as you try to express yourself because they just do not care about anyone else but themselves.

Some people are so lost, so disconnected from their inner compass that would lead them, if they just would want to listen, to one direction and one direction only: the path of tenderness.  

I'm just sad sometimes... and tired.  So very very sad and so so tired. 

x






dinsdag 19 maart 2019

Choose someone who chooses you

Every morning I start my day scrolling my Insta feed full of grand quotes and kind reminders, listening to Abraham Hicks preaching in the background.  

By times though, I stumble upon a quote of which I notice that, however representful of my previous mindset, it doesn't serve me any longer. 

Like this morning, when I was scrolling by a citation of Risingwoman.  

There's obviously no ‘one quote suits all’ with everybody being different, thinking different, walking a different path, having different experiences, … and so the one posted today:  'choose someone who chooses you'... didn't fully resonate with me.   

I used to be in a relationship with this amazing guy.  Like REALLY amazing. 
He kind…, he loving…, he caring…, he compassionate…, he like really, absolutely, legitimately incredible.  (Well... maybe not thát caring and incredible after all, but still, you get my drift.)   

I was so fiercely in love with him in the beginning, as he made me believe he lived by exactly the same values and morals as me.   

Not long after though, I saw him acting completely out of tune with the statements he made when we first met.  
This hurt me so bad, like really shredding my heart to pieces, that I was tremendously furious with him.  (Anger is nothing more than translated grieve.)

I was soooo angry with him that I could've dragged him through a field of nettles in his birthday suit or that I could've thrown him down a (marble) staircase with handcuffs on.  (You know, the usual.)

You see, from my instructed perspective, people who enter a relationship have to comply with all its institutional standards.  
They have to act like they have never been hurt before.
Like they have never built any coping mechanisms which kept them alive through the hardest psychological/physical challenges of people they trusted (which they obviously cannot unlearn a few weeks into dating you.  Hell, most people aren’t even aware they created and are acting on these self made constructions, anyway).

We all expect each other to behave according to all standard beliefs and instructions that were forced upon us by the words and behaviour of people who were hurt and disillusioned themselves. 

So when this tormented soul caused me this unbelievable pain by not living up to my expectations I forgot all about his beauty and ended up hating him.  In my opinion back than: I chose him and he didn't chose me back.  

Therefore, I blocked him, deleted every tangible memory of him, ignored every attempt of contact from his side...

Thank you, next.   
   
Fastforwarding to relentless Abrahahm Hicks listening, intense shadow work, mindful yoga, deep soul searching and spiritual expansion later, let me share this with you:

If you find yourself in a situation where you have chosen someone who hasn’t chosen you back, take your time to let it sink in and to lovingly remove yourself from the relation you have with that person.  

It is, never was and never will be, a waste of time as Risingwoman puts it. 

Never.
Ever.

Honour the experience and see it for what it is/was: a magnificent chance to gain essential insights, an amazing opportunity to win inner strength, a once in a lifetime possibility to grow as a motherfucker.   

Honour the people who did not choose you and see them for what they really are/were: your greatest teachers as your interaction with them is/was of great educational value showing you through contrast the behavioral/personality traits you really long for in a lover, in a committed relationship. 

Ask yourself how the behaviour of the other effected you the way that it did and why it did that to you.   
Ask yourself upon witnessing your pain, which parts of you are breaking and love yourself enough to figure out why that is and than lovingly tend to it.

Don’t fill your vibe with anger and resentment like I did and please do not forget to see the most beautiful things they gave you as well.  

You go get your head out of Self Pity Station and get your ass moving to build them the most exuberant shrine like EVAH! (I'm talking sizes twice the Taj Mahal here, people!)

This right here, is real strength, amigos! You taking your power back and not letting external people and/or situations mess with you vibin' (on the contrary, you changing those experencies into opportunities to reach mental Nirvana) is something extraordinary powerful!

When you decide to see the best in a person/situation, you will attract the best in other people/situations.  

Don’t block everything you are worthy of by an invisible wall of anger and/or negativity. 

Shower yourself with the awareness of all beauty and love that's constantly manifesting in front of you and clear those glass ceilings that keep you from receiving all you want and deserve.  

Now, as for a partner you would like to experience the rest of your life with:  

I can not agree with Risingwoman more.

People can say all they want but that love is a choice is not and will never be negotiable.

It's a conscious choice to dedicate yourself to respect and honour your loved one.

To respect and honour yourself.
To appreciate and accept each other's individualities and differences.
To devote yourself to figure out conflicts in a loving and honourable way.
To say 'yes' to being the person you wish you have around to share everyday lifethingies with.
To engage yourself to being the faithful and loyal rock for your most precious one, as it is you yourself that has always wished upon having that same rock in yóur life. (Something with being the change you want to see in others, you know.)

To decide to stick with it even when things get shit-smashing-into-the-fan-covering-the-whole-wide-room-in-feces-and-unbearable-smell hard.

Real and truthful love is something that is built.  Something that can only be created over time. 
Time of getting to know and to having experienced the whole spectrum of your partner’s personality.
Time of personal and mutual challenges that you have experienced and have overcome together.  

Sincere love is there where there’s total and unconditional acceptance of each other.

True love is there where reverence reigns. 

Real love is choosing for someone.  Deliberately making the choice to dedicate yourself for ever and beyond to be the best person you can be for your significant other and to try to abstain from everything that you know is perceived as hurtful by her (or him), every single second of every single day again and again and again.

A trial and error process, yes, but because of that even more so an amazingly pain and gain one.

Therefore, I kindly invite you, if your're going for eternal, do choose someone who chooses you. 

x

dinsdag 12 maart 2019

Re-enactment

The other day, whilst hurringly grocery shopping with my two precious ones mooching behind me, my boy asked me to buy him this little cactus plant.
 
I snarled at him: ‘No!’ trying to get our necessities without calamities. 

(Fellow hustling parents surely get my drift, like trying to get veggies from the refrigerator when one kid is eating all the grapes from the fruit aisle and the other is drinking and spilling milk all over the floor of the shop because of a severe sorry-mom-but-I-REALLY-REALLY-REALLY-had-to-drink-immediately-or-I-would’ve-died-instantly-even-though-I-just-had-juice-5-minutes-ago whilst in the meantime uttering the most lovely exclamations when I try to reprimand them like: ‘FUCK YOU, MOM, I REALLY HATE YOU, MOM,  YOU NEVER LET US HAVE ANYTHING, MOM,…)  

My refusal of his desire to acquire the cactus obviously upset my kid.   

Now, never letting any opportunity go by to expand my spiritual and intellectual horizon (let’s all be like me and fuck things up all the time so you are never NOT learning) I let my son’s disappointment pauze me in my preoccupation of getting us out of the store with groceries and without any fatalities.

I stopped myself for a minute and overthought the spontaneous ‘nay’ I gave my son.

I never thought about questioning the many ideas and reactions which we think are our own until that point…

About how many of our opinions and (pre)conceptions are really, genuinly ours?

That if pedagogical science learns us that the best way to educate our children is to lead by example, than why did I not ask myself earlier: how many of our 'own' feelings and beliefs can we actually call 'ours'...

After all, aren't we all someone’s children ourselves?

Therefore, are we really thinking and experiencing for ourselves or are we just repeating?

I was stressed so I growled as I used to witness my mom, always stressing, always growling. 

I thought I couldn’t give in to my dearest one as I was drilled to learn that kids can not always get what they want.  My mom never gave in to us as kids as we ‘needed to learn we can not always get what we want’.

I’m so desperately trying to heal and change the world by fiercely trying to love the ones next to me, hoping that they, at their turn, will pay it forward to the ones nearby them but what good does it do when I’m letting the ones closest to me see me to continuously growl, to stress, to have feelings of deprivation, to feel negative…  other than to maintain the current trend of global dissatisfaction/unhappiness.   

We take our actions, words and emotions every single day out of a mold made of behaviour, feelings and thinking patterns taught to us by our parents, experienced by us through friends, seen in society….

The same like when I'm seeing people I interact with behave a certain kind of way. 
If I feel hurt by something they do or say, does this upset me because I authentically think it's upsetting or is it just because I've 'learned' that that specific kind of actions or words are defined as wrong.

So I tried to backtrack my earlier feelings, trying to tap into what I, independent of others’ indoctrinations, thought about the situation.

I went to check the price of the little product of nature.  It only costed 2 EURO, so it was not like my son was asking me for a Shenzhen Nongke Orchid of 200,000 USD.

I came to the realisation that my OWN belief is that the path to happiness is the continuous giving in to that what feels good.  To all that what is beneficial to the body, to the mind and healing for our spirit.

Denying my kid something I can more than easily afford, growling at him like we needed to get out of the store like ISIS would enter every minute to kill us all in there, is NOT acting on any of my true and genuine convictions.

So I think that today would be a perfect day to start stripping myself. 

To get stark-naked and undo myself of all the biased opinions I’m aware I have of everything and everyone and to try to unravel the ones I’m still unconscious of.  

And so it has come upon me, the time for some serious self reflection.

The time has come for some serious tabula rasa.

X

maandag 11 februari 2019

Authenticism

My soulmate.  

Met her in our first year of college, about 18 years old.  

Walking in front of me with her brown, corduroy trousers on.  Tight at the bum, loose over her worn out gypsy boots.  
Her orange turtleneck subtly showcasing her beautifully sculpted body and her long, flax blonde hair, carelessly raised with a large flower pin.

Her almond-white face adorned with freckles, like stars at the sky arch in the light polluted sky.
   
Walking up the stairs with her leather vintage satchel catching my eye and her aural frequency tuning into mine.  

And so it happened...

Few weeks later we were one. 

Her and I. 

Us against the world.  

We dressed different.  We thought different.  We acted different. 

A breath of fresh air in a world full of identical snobs.  

Everybody perceived us as antisocial but we couldn't care less.

Philosophing, rebelling, analayzing... those were the things that really preoccupied us. 

Her and I.

Heart and intuition. 

Peaceful Anarchists against the ruling establishment. 

Anonymous Hippies, fighting silently against the dominating dogmas in our own little world.   

Nothing else mattered. 

One of my first recollections of our friendship was her giving me a book.  

I think it was called 'De Zin der Zinnen' (The Sense of Senses) not too sure, but I  do remember it being an ode to our bodies and its superb ways.  

I still have it to this day.  

I was so enthralled by it.  By her.

It was literally the first time I met someone who was colouring in the same colour palette as me and to make things even better: on the same canvas as well. 

After college we seperated.  


Living my seemingly secure Matrix life, wasn't compatible anymore with her living her best life, far away from Doctrinarian Prison.  

Now, so many years later, she finds herself more and more living, sometimes fearing but most of the time enjoying, the simple yet substantial life.

Even though I haven't seen her in years, I keep on reading her blog where she writes about venturing on the path she has always dreamed of.

Her writing depicting the real deal of leaving the Path Untread.

It's not for all of us, but she is doing it and she is doing (it) good.   

x 

https://angeliquemaas.waarbenjij.nu/
https://www.angeliquemaas.com/winter-2019.html

donderdag 7 februari 2019

Mother Earth

Let me brainstorm here for a minute...

So, in order to have our climate saved, we should all, individually, try to reduce our carbon footprint, right?  Yes? 
And than the ACTUAL culprits, the multinationals, should... Oh no, my bad, multinationals are apparently exempted here.
They are all exempted because they deliver the dough.
Now now, in a world where it's actuallly possible for a chemical giant to be patent owner of plenty of  'natural' seeds, this really should come as no surprise to us.

You do understand that money is very important, though?  
You see, it will be a vital tool in the future for buying tickets to go to new established colonies in space.  Ah yes, you do get, that murdering only one planet is not ambitious enough, do you?

Nope.

After exploiting our absolutely breathtaking heimat, which possesses so many ingeneous (eco)systems and a splendor so magnificent that its inhabitants even contrived a 'Creator' to try to find an explanation for such mysticism*, they want to branch out into space.  Ofcourse.

(*This, or She was conveniently created by the elite to deprive and dominate the riffraff.  Maybe both?)

Still.  Try to keep in mind.  The Homo Sapiens is, and remains, a mammal.

So, maybe, the elite keeping their money instead of protecting our climate or exterminating famine (there literally is enough money to go around for everyone, to solve all problems as well, folks!), is not going against nature but instead is being part of it.

Maybe planet Earth has a severe case of Freud's Eros and Thanatos going on...

Maybe we are all made in Her image after all.

x

zondag 3 februari 2019

Racism

What do y'all think?  Is racism a matter of intellect or not?

I used to think so, allright.  d'Offis.  
Intellectuals can be highly unlikely racist, as even a blind mole can see how xenophobia is only a tool used on us, the masses, by the elite to divide and conquer.  Right?

Are there any intellectual racists? 
Probably.  And if so, should we need to redefine the term 'intellect' or is it required to take into account the vital importance of ancestral doctrines and/or the detrimental influence of social portraying?

Could racism be genetic?  
Did my love for some cultures and my discomfort with others slip into my nucleotides some centuries ago?  Is it because my great great grandmother was from Spain, a land once invaded by the Mores, that it's just in my DNA to have specific tastes and preferences or not?  Than again, don't we ALL have mixed blood as so many populations on earth have been at war with each other at one time or another...

So I was talking to this guy the other day, who told me he was opposed immigrants and open border politics.  I did not really bother to go into a discussion with him.  For me personally, the older I get, the wiser (yep, just said this about myself) and the more I realise that people are walking their own paths.  I think that you can try to interfere but what a waste of energy that would be.  Precious energy one can use very much so on its own Highway to Growth.  

He asked me if his opinions would be the end of my interest in him.  'That's an affirmative, boy' I said and he replied: 'Can't we just beg to differ?  We do not all have to have the same opinions, right?'

His comment made me think.  Is he right?  I don't think so.  Or is he?
For me, racism, is not just a different opinion.  For me it is the lack of some essential insights and thus... a matter of intellect.  Or isn't it?  Am I wrong? 

And, on my path of love, is it right for me to let him be?
Isn't leading by example the best way to convey our precious ideals to one another?  
Shouldn't I have pulled him close instead of pushing him away and just let him see how I perceive life?
Shouldn't I let my love be contagious?
Shouldn't I hang out with him just so I could infect him with my tenderness for all?

Does leaving him be, make me, myself, a racist and thus are black people right when saying that to not be racist is not enough, that we all should be anti-racist?

Who actually is the real intellectual here...

X



maandag 28 januari 2019

What is love?

In this day and age... of social media slash smartphones slash lost morals, what is love, really? 

In this day and age where we barely keep up with the strain of adulthood how do we manage to love?

We don't.

Overtired and exhausted of living a life ripped from substantial purpose, we shout, we judge, we condemn, and we just LOVE to point out all the faults in one another.  

And no, it's NOT 'just life' and 'just the way it is'.
Yes, having stultifying jobs are just means to an end and no, eternal holidays are not for the ordinary, but I'm sure there's more to life than making endless rounds in our little hamster wheels. 

It's not because this numbing life is perceived as 'normal' that it is normal indeed.
'Normal' means according to the norm and now I ask you: according to which norm?
Who invented the 'norm'?
I guess someone who knew how to manipulate the masses, who knew how our imprint is to fit in and thus conveniently created a frame of reference in which there's no space for diversity or dissidents. Or was it created by the general consensus? By all of us, like a herd of sheep? 

I'm sorry I'm starting a whole new topic here whilst I actually just wanted to have a lil' convo about romantic love in this era right here.

Few years ago (actually: a DECENNIUM) I was always looking for 'love'.  Everything I did, everyone I met, it always revolved around men.  It was f****** exhausting.   

Now, with two toddlers (going on adolescents) I barely have time to eat, let alone to 'go look' for a guy.  Sometimes I think I'd love to have one, sometimes I think I could use one and sometimes I think I hate all of them.  (Depends on what height I'm finding myself on the hormonal rollercoaster.)

So Tinder I tried.  

Lots of sex requests.  Apparently, according to the guys, a lot of female sex predators as well.  Is this really so?  I'm sure it's true for some but I'm also very confident that a lot of women have learned how to use their bodies and sexuality as an appetizer to warm up a man's interest.

They start off with orgasms to try to captivate a man's heart.
It's a way of doing things.  Not wrong nor right.
People, all people, want to be happy and if not hurting anyone, are free to do so by manners which suits them best.
I do hear a lot though of women who with this kind of approach, unfortunately get their beautiful hearts broken because of the 'I didn't take advantage of her, SHE REALLY wanted it' shit.
Yes, she wanted it, allright, but did you ever thought about WHY she 'really wanted it'?
I guess not, as it would disable you to justify your sexual exploitation of young, gorgeous souls looking for a top up of their love depleted hearts.

Apart from the sex requests, I had a few nice and interesting conversations.  I find this odd though.  You haven't met someone yet and already you're testing the waters.  I don't know how I feel about this, really.  Isn't it an artificial way of doing things? Isn't 'love' meeting someone 'by accident' and than having this connection with them that you don't have with others...  Or is this just the 'passionate' kind of love? The love that kills instead of lasts?

Aren't we obsoleting biology here? Where men have procreative drifts to ensure our propagation and  therefore are justified to be selective.  Or, is biology becoming outdated today in a world where you get crucified (suddenly remembering the Army of Lover's song Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim crucifiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiied, crucifiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiied like my saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaavior, saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaintlike behaaaaaaaaaaaaaviooooooor....) when failing to speak 'politically correct' and where mankind is to be dominated more and more by artificial intelligence?  

Is a dating app, based on absolutely meaningless pictures of people, the all time low of humanity?  Or, is it a clever way to distract ourselves of the hell described in the first paragraphs here above?

And the way we communicate to each other... you're having a really nice talk with someone and than something else meets our eye and we just disappear untill we're bored again...  No attention AT ALL for the person on the other end of his/hers device.  We just leave them hanging and the saddest part of it: we don't really think much of it.  Is it OK because if we would mention it to them we would confess our interest in them or we would seem needy and by doing so we would let them have a glance at our vulnerability and so we just let it pass and as a result create a socially accepted new normal?  

Where marriages used to be contracts and spouses (to be) communicated through letters that travelled for weeks sometimes, I don't know in which era we're better off.

Maybe, we shouldn't look for love in the other (or same) sex.  Maybe we should all look for the only love that trúly matters, the love inside ourself.  Or would that be abnormal?

x








woensdag 16 januari 2019

Human. Perverted. Nature.

Why we so perverted?  Why?

Watching a documentary about Maria Callas, one of the most renowned opra singers like evah,  I immediately thought about some gossip I had heard of her before.   

The film was playing for about only 2 minutes and I immediately thought of how I remembered a clip of when she made her come back (after leaving the stage for years, (in)directly because of a man (peeps, read this thoroughly, she left her art for SOMEBODY ELSE, let's live and LEARN here)) and sounded like sh**. 

Going through the docu like: 'really need to Youtube that poor performance later', I also got a bit swept away by her personality or the cinamtic portrayal thereof.  She started to grow on me.

01h42' in, we get to 'that' performance.  They leave it out.  I'm ashamed.  

Why is this?  
Why we drained from any form of sympathy/empathy when it comes to strangers?  
What gives us the right?  
What makes us THINK we have the right?

Why we out for sensation, whát kind of sensation does it give us really, to see an Amy Winehouse booed off stage almost literally dying from the disease Alcoholism (thank you for letting me use my poetic license here to freely translate to Broken Heart Syndrome) or to see a genious Maria breaking her voice in London, may it/may it not be by the same syndrome?  Whilst at the same time running over to a loved one, armed with a blankie, 5 tonnes of chocolates, 3 boxes of Kleenex and 1 bottle of Vodka when suffering from the same malaise?  

Why we so easily forget about all the breathtaking aspects of ones' artistry and personality because of a hiccup in their roads?  And is it a hiccup really?  Isn't it merely nothing more than the absurd arrogance to judge or to be entertained by the mondaine experiences of extroardinary people?  
The neglect of acknowledgement and tenderness for human beings, human nature.  

Thank you Tom Volf and colleagues.  Thank you for making me see. 

x



  

maandag 7 januari 2019

Free At Last

Do any of you guys relate to mourning a person way after you ended your relationship with them? 

I mean, my last relationship ended in June and every single second of every single day after that, I was still thinking of him.

In a weird kind of way, it even felt like we were still together as he was still running through my mind and paddling through my veins (with a big, fluorescent yellow, kayak).

Obviously, I wasn't aware of this until the other day, when my friend asked me if I'd met another object of affection yet.

This question made it dawn on me that I grew to be allergic to all new male contact as I felt there was no vacancy for any other guy in my heart nor my soul.  

Time for me to let go.  

I went from my heart to my mind and I imagined him sitting in front of me.  I told him that he was no longer wanted nor needed, that it was time for me to move on, that his leave of absence was long due.   

I cried.

My stomach ached. 

My heart died.

For the first time I actually grieved the loss of a person who simultaneously was my lover, friend and nail in my coffin.  (Not necessarily in that order.)

Going hysterical by the thought of not going to feel rejected again and again and again, anymore. 

It broke my heart but opened it at the same time.  

I'm free now.  Mother God Almighty, I'm free at last.

So what else to do with all this freedom than hitting Tinder? After all, is there any better way to get over the hurt caused by a cheater than by demolishing your selfworth by a 'ghoster' online? 

x

vrijdag 4 januari 2019

Ploetermoeder is BACK

't zijn weer Ma Flodder modus hoogdagen.  2 weken kerstvakantie en 2 kids. 
Het schrijven valt me dus een beetje zwaar met mijn handen afwisselend van mijn klavier naar mijn bruine papieren hyperventilatiezak.  

Sinds de geboorte van mijn eerste kindje 5 jaar geleden ben ik voortdurend ziek wegens chronische slaapdeprivatie en daarmede ook het overnemen van elke bacterie, virus, amoebe onder de zon. 
Dit jaar viel het nogal mee, buiten dat ik me om 10u 's morgens afvroeg hoe het in Moeder Godsnaam nog licht is om 2u s' nachts en dat als ik ergens naartoe ging met de kinderen mensen dachten dat ze op stap waren met Beetlejuice.  

De klassiekers zoals dat wanneer ze in hun bedje liggen, je tijdens het opruimen merkt dat je al die tijd al aan het meezingen bent met Bumba liedjes die je vergeten afzetten bent en dat je enigste contact met een volwassene (onbeantwoorde) berichtjes zijn op Instagram van een (nog) onbekende zanger uit Texas, die blijven. 

We hebben wel weer heel veel leuke dingen gedaan zoals gewoonlijk.  
Ik had hier nog steeds een geboortegeschenk liggen om de kindjes hun voet- en handafdruk in gips te gieten.  
Dolle pret zegt u?  U mag zeker zijn.
Te lui om de maatbeker te nemen wou de brij voor de mal te maken maar niet harden.
Het aanrecht, de keuken en de vloer zagen er uit alsof een betonmolen de racekak had gekregen in onze keuken met kinderen die ter hoogte van mijn zeer sensitieve seniorenoren aan het kelen en ruzie aan het maken waren omwille van een ijsje.    
(Mijn zoon stond op het punt het vreemdelingenlegioen te contacteren omdat zijn zus het laatste ijsje genomen had maar toen ik zelf ging kijken omdat ik ondertussen klaar was voor Sint Lucia, met gips tot in mijn wenkbrauwen en mallenbrij tot in de voegen van de vloer, vond ik gelukkig toch nog een verdwaald crimmeke voor hem.)
De 24 uren durende uiteenzetting van de Processie Van Echternach die plaatsvond om hun vingerafdrukken uiteindelijk te kunnen bekomen zal ik u besparen.  

Maar kijk, met toch wel een zekere fierheid en een beetje stiekem hopend op een medaille van Sint-Rita, de patroonheilige voor de hopeloze gevallen, laat ik u met een foto van het resultaat.  Ik heb ook een foto bijgevoegd van hoe het er zou moeten uitzien volgens de verpakking.  U kan zelf wel raden hetgene van onze hand is.  

x





zondag 30 december 2018

Melancholia

La Melancholia...

Resembles a bit the word 'cholera'.  

Maybe it actually is.  
Maybe, melancholy does to the mind what cholera does to the body but instead of losing bodily fluids, you lose, within the count of merely one heartbeat, all wit, joy and image of a bigger picture. 

A part of a Freud book title.

According to Wikipedia: 'from Greek: µέλαινα χολή melaina chole "gall bladders" also Latin lugere lugubriousness to mourn, Latin morosus moroseness of self-will or fastidious habit...'

A Lars Van Trier movie.

Or, if you ask me: 
the swift coverage of shoulders with an intangible, metallic and ponderous blanket.  
The mind soaked in a deep grey ink.   
The limbs crippled.
Impalpable prinsonbars around one's surroundings.    

I have been suffering from melancholic episodes since even before the age of ten, overcoming me especially on Sundays.  The day before school.  A sour aching stitch from my intestins reaching to my heart.  Lasting the whole day only to be cured by the reassurance that comes with the zombie like actions of a Monday morning.  

Oh, the mental calm of the mealstrom of life.  
Oh, the soothing effect of habitual actions, of living our life like souls deceased.

The student days went but the mourning episodes stayed.  

La Melancholia...

The overtaking of the aura by a dark, sombre, and gloomy energy.  
The being accompanied but feeling utterly alone and not present at all.  
The soft, yet almost unbearable, aching of a heart screaming, unable to be justly unravelled by the conscious.

x





woensdag 12 december 2018

Sex Addict vs Pseudo Postfeminist

Ok, so, this sex addicted acquaintance of mine has been trying to get me to sleep with him for quite a while now.  I blow him off (pun intended) because me being quite vulnerable makes me quite susceptible to other people's problems, tending to make them my own.  

Also, because I cannot enjoy bodily intertwining without a deep emotional connection.

Now being the pseudo postfeminist that I am, the intercourse junkie takes his defeat by throwing all the superannuated feminist clichés at me.  He sees me as this man hating, a-sexual, bitter cat lady but I honestly see nothing wrong with being mistaken for a passionate Phoebe Buffay, do you?  An undeserved honour I call it!  (Also, I don't have any cats.)

Still I would like to clear this out for all the other oblivious peeps out there: trying to find my way into promoting the empowerment of the during centuries oppressed woman does not mean that I do not totally adore (some) men, that I don't own a favourite pair of porte-jartelles and that I don't AB-SO-LU-TELY glorify the idea of gettig frisky. 

It's just that this time around I want to choose the right soul connection to do so with.  

Now I'll tell you why I gladly take the risk of being perceived as the stereotype the coitus dependant describes me to be.

Being in my teens I wanted to change the world.   I wanted to change the world BIG TIME.
Being in my twenties, it struck me as a thunderbolt that I was failing miserably at the attempt, being an average (although be it with some (imagined) Kate Moss features), trivial and chicken shit millenial, stuck in dogma thinking with obsolete indoctrinations.

Faced with this harsh reality, I hear you thinking: what else could she do, what other thing was left for her to do than... to quit her job and go backpacking. Right? I hear ya.
So off I went, meeting this German guy for literally five minutes on top of (waiting for the name of the mountain from my, for almost 10 years now, toxic ex, whom I just e-mailed...  Oh, apparently it was at the Avalanche Peak summit,  Arthur's Pass National Park, New Zealand, he just e-mailed me back (isn't toxic so rewarding sometimes)) who changed my life forever.

I can not recall how on earth he came to say this to me in the literally five minutes of our lives we shared together but he told me that when he was young he really wanted to make a difference.  Like me, he wanted to change the globe.  As he realised he was not succeeding, he came to the conclusion that in order to change the world you would have to start changing yourself first.  Change yourself and be the best person you can be for your immediate family and friends and let that love you bring pay itself forward.  To change the planet is to start with one.

New default philosophy for practicing life?  Check!

So, when I speak up, when I am trying to be fearless, when I am trying to be free, when I am trying to be lovable, when I'm being optimistically naive, when I AM and by being so getting a call from my friend to tell me that my advocacy is making such a positive impact on her life and thus on the lives of her child and husband as well, I take being falsely seen as a sour he-hater any time.

x

P.S.: Sex Addict and I are still very friendly despite our differences.  He read the text and really loved it.   Let's all be like Sex Addict and Pseudo Postfeminist.  Let's all be lovers not fighters.

zaterdag 8 december 2018

Vintage

Being so vintage that when my foot reflexologist asked me if I do my payments with my phone I asked her (very much bewildered): 'Euh... No... How does that actually work? Which number would you have to dial than?' 

x

dinsdag 4 december 2018

Hustling

I'm a hustler baby, 
I just want you to know, wanna let you know
It ain't where I been, 
But where I'm bout to go, top of the world!
Now I just wanna love you, just wanna love you
But be who I am, you know you love me

Writer(s): SHAWN CARTER, PHARRELL WILLIAMS, SEAN J. COMBS, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE, DERIC ANGELETTIE, TODD SHAW, CHAD HUGO, MASON BETHA, JAMES JOHNSON, ASHA GOLDSCHMIDT

Just sharing this with you today.
You know, just me, today, working my ass off to instill that there's no past and no future.
That there's only here and now.  That there's only love.  Love for self and thus love for all.

Just another day of hustling, of growing, of progressing, of irritating my peers.

You're welcome.

I love you.

x

maandag 19 november 2018

Infidelity

Hello there!  It's ya girl, Pseudo Postfeminist Witch.  Hollaaaaa!

Bringing to you today: the topic of cheating.  Yessa!

There's three things that I hold sacred while treading this earth, interacting with my brothers and sisters globally: loyalty, truth and respect.  (Which are actually one and the same if you think about it, really.)
No surprise than, that the lack of the above in my previous relationship because of the relentless infidelity (in every possible interpretation of the word) from his part, led me to one of the darkest hours of my life.
(You know, the on your knees howling on the floor kinda thing whilst thinking: please please please do not let a free downloaded app on my phone secretely activate my cam and speaker right now or I'll spend the rest of my life trying to proof my sanity to my boss at work or to ANYONE for that matter.)

Just the other day, my sweetest friend Evy, sent me a short video of Esther Perel addressing the topic  (link as per below, as sharing is forever caring) and although I find the title poorly chosen, I do think that it has some interesting conceptions:

- 'The people who have fun don't go to psychologists.'  *Some harsh truth, no?

- 'Cheating is hurtful not just wrong.' (Can I get an 'Amen!!'??)

- 'A suspected 80% of the people have been affected by it, not only the couple itself but friends and family, especially THE CHILDREN, get affected as well...' *preach, sistah!

- 'Affairs are about desire, about feeling important, feeling seen, feeling that you matter, ... all the stuff that often gets depleted inside the committed relationship.'

- 'Often it is not about leaving the person you are with but leaving the person that you yourself have become, you don't want to meet the other but a different person of yourself.'

- 'Both men and women lie, men lie by boasting but women lie to minimise because that is what is expected from them culturally worldwide.' *A LITTLE LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK, PLEASE!

- 'How do you manifest your love, your appreciation, your admiration on a daily basis for your partner? How do you show up?  Are you the blinding ray of sunshine at home that you are at work or do you bring the leftovers home?'

- 'Some affairs invite the relationship to rise and create something even better than was before.'

- 'The principal condition (which decides if the relationship will make it or not) is for the betraying partner to acknowledge how badly they hurt you.  The condicio sine qua non for a relationship to make it, is for the partner to be genuinly sorry for the hurt they have caused you. However, if they just go and make excuses for themselves, if they minimise or try to justify it, or if they tell you that you made them do it, you are done.'  *Hasta la vista, baby!

Now, I figured out the above by myself since quite a while now as an emotional mutilating relationship tends to teach you a thing or two (if one's willing), but isn't it a shame that we 'need to be taught' though?  The things stated above should be obvious to us but they aren't and I'll tell you WHY:

I cannot speak in the name of the guys who have been cheated on (I do see you, though) but as a girl I can only see how we females are being stripped of our inner lionness, our inner Goddess and our inner scholar as early as from the baby cot.

We grow up hearing, experiencing, that cheating is solely about beauty or more correctly: lack there of.  That we as women need to live up by a certain concept of beauty, exclusively invented and enforced by men.  That if we do not dress a kind of way, if we do not paint our faces with the 'mandatory' kind of colours or if our hair is not 'beauty standard' long, men will probably pass us by and have all the right in the world doing so.  Strong opinionated females are perceived unattractive, sois belle, tais toi.

Even my own woke ass, was lured into the trap of thinking that I was aesthetically insufficiant for my personality disordered ex boyfriend (needless to say he did not comply with the previously mentioned sine qua non).

We are not brought up to reflect upon how we maybe are part of the issue, or to think of how maybe the other is just an effing douche and we deserve way better than that.
We or drown in sorrow and/or pity ourselves as this is what we have seen around us and this is what we most of the times have been (sub)consciously learned.

Ladies, we do NOT have to undergo the disrespect of ANYONE, nor do we on the contrary need to point the finger at the other.

We need to take our power back.

We need to see how beautiful our smile is.
How stunning we are when we are showcasing kindness.
How radiant we are if we are doing what we love.
How attractive we are when we are standing our ground.
How knowledge is power.
How listening, travelling and reading are KEY.
How the first amendment should be: 'love thyself.'
How love comes back to you.  (Always.)
How love is the bridge between you and everything. (Also always.)
How one is like pineapple: some people can have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner and some can not even stand the smell of it but ain't nothing wrong with the yellow interior fruit.
How to leave the table when love is not (longer) being served (praise to Nina!) and just look for a more appreciative audience to sit by.

And most importantly: we need to teach our kids.

When my son asked me to pick the most beautiful kid from his class picture, I said to him: 'I'm sorry hon' but I cannot tell you who is the prettiest child as it is impossible to see on a photograph the beauty of one's heart'.

Look at that, turns out that one of my darkest hours made me see the brightest of stars.

Turns out that the whole time it was me being unfaithful to myself.

(A nice way for saying that I actually hate the cheating motherfucker but thank Mother God for the cheating motherfucker as the cheating motherfucker made me realise so much and made me change myself and I have never been happier so I absolutely LOVE the cheating motherfucker, I owe my life to the cheating motherfucker and so I can not keep on calling him a cheating motherfucker because I need to stay focused on the blessings the experience brought me.  (Addition inspired by my today-i-am-not-taking-any-crap friend: Sophie (love you).))


x


Esther Perel video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RmiKAoAmYSg