My days are unexpected but very simple, indeed.
I work on two jobs.
As a cleaner, my paid-side job, already for a full month shaping up my skills to become the next great broom master by sweeping the floors with elegance and dusting boutique surfaces with grace.
And then, as a writer, my unpaid-main job, tapping into my own creative powers to let inspiration fly free like a bird.
Entering a workforce, after years of unscheduled freedom, was not an easy move, but I have grown into wanting to work for money, to support myself and my creativity. I literally want to make my own choices, i.e. decisions that concern the variety of food I put on my plate. I can’t nor want to feed myself with food that’s not my first choice of preference, not anymore.
I love the freedom of choice, the freedom I have had in many ways while traveling but not quite the freedom I am talking about here. There’s a difference in freedom of choice, radically remarkable one, which I am now taking into my own hands for an unknown time.
I want to write.
I want to eat healthy.
I want to work mindfully.
I want to be there for me and for my friends.
And I want to stay open and love whatever arises.
Nothing else matters.
I have been lucky, actually much more than that, beyond lucky.
There have been friends, handfuls by now, who’ve supported my transition since the end of November, throughout eight remarkable months. They’ve really helped me so that I can gradually find my way, a way back home, a home I never left.
Now, months later, my emotions – fears and joy and pain and desires – are embraced as never before with love as my guide.
It was a teamwork, teamwork of many!
Unspeakable times with friends who stood by me, no matter if I was an angel or a devil, they were there, beside me, supportive all the way through. And also, there was a new transformative power that took flight – I learned to be there for me.
I have spent a lot of time with myself but I have hardly ever been with myself and in my body. Throughout the last years I have had the privilege to know what these words mean in a deeper level followed up with conscious actions. These dark months filled with endless gifts showed me – I need to, I have to, I want to, make a shift of change in my habits.
I have been guided to love myself – every thought, every memory, every action, every everything – and if I can’t love them I am loving the one who can’t love them – love anything, everything and nothing, just name it.
I am excited to go knee deep into the love that resides within my heart. Self-compassion here I come, something I have practiced for years but that, oh, that was and still is a totally new league of self-discovery, and it’s just a grand beginning of my journey ahead, one single yet powerful step forward from countless steps to come, each taking me closer and deeper to the love that I am, the raw untouched love.
And in the meantime…
I’ve been everywhere, man
Crossed the deserts bare, man
I’ve breathed the mountain air, man
Of travel, I’ve had my share, man
I’ve been everywhere
I’ve been to,
I’m a Killer
I’ve been everywhere, man
Credits: a song ‘I’ve Been Everywhere’ by Johnny Cash.
Traveling the world! Oh, what a treat in the sea of sweets!
The last month, while also mopping and wiping, I have been living in a tiny house in Bergen, surrounded by artists of any kind where my host Tom has been working abroad during weekdays, meaning I have had the place for myself. Just me, my creativity, my fears, and my newly found love for cooking.
I write a lot these days, more I have ever written, but I don’t write here, not in my blog, and I also don’t share it with anyone, anywhere. I don’t want to, and I chose not to.
I am not afraid to share, I think.
I simply want to enjoy the process of writing.
I want to play.
Play with forgotten words.
Play with new expansive ideas.
Play with bottomless creativity.
This is me being in love, deeply engulfed in the love affair with my own creativity.
I want to be there, in that space – alone – just me and my creativity, intimately.
It’s a process where I am getting to know me. Frankly, quite scary and unpredictable but so healing. My fingers have already recorded hundreds of thousands of words within four months, that have patched the scars of my wounded soul. And this, oh this, is the reason why I write, why I want to write, and why I am okay being scared to write.
I have become a Story nerd.
I am learning, learning like a maniac, new skills from the best in the field and from the infinite source of my own well, allowing my own voice to shine, shine brighter as never before, to nourish its unwatered seeds.
Just a pure space of creation, and also a bitter taste of self-pity, on and off, while making friends with resistance, just to mix the game.
I love writing. I don’t see myself loving any activity more than writing itself.
That’s where my heart belongs, right now.
I don’t know where it will lead me.
I don’t know what will change in the process.
I don’t know if I will ever finish my first draft.
I don’t know if I will ever become a published author.
And in all honesty, it doesn’t matter, I don’t care.
It’s not that I don’t care what I do. I care, oh, I care more I ever have, it’s something I can’t even comprehend. I just don’t care what will happen with what I create. I have learned that whatever happens, happens. I can’t change the course of action. So I don’t want to push against the current or loose my focus on why I am even doing what I am doing. It’s the love for the game. I just want to work, work on things I thoroughly enjoy, and then see where the ship docks, if ever.
I have changed. I have healed. I have gained more I can imagine. And like I said, it’s just a grand beginning for what’s yet to come!
In the process of creation I have already won, and that happened the minute I sat down to write and it happens each time I glue myself to the chair and do the work of a hero.
Indeed, I was pleasantly shocked of a shift I didn’t see coming, not even in my wildest vivid dreams, a shift from fuck-writing into a love-writing relationship, in decades.
Life is truly unpredictable.
I know nothing that’s coming.
Absolutely nothing, not even the tiniest thing.
I can’t control my reality, and I don’t even want to.
That said, I am still doing it time and time again…
Here’s what I know – I can make decisions that shape my reality, decision that define the quality of the movie I am playing out.
Also, as the main character in my own movie, I closed my social media accounts to create higher quality interactions with everyone and everything, to have more authentic human connections, those soul-scanning eye to eye connections that truly nourish my entire being in this 3D reality.
The simple truth is…
The World Wide Web has become a form of addiction and distraction in my daily life, one that sucks the life out of me, drains my highly precious energy, which could be used for something far greater than that. There are pros and cons, but mostly I have to swim through shit to get to the good stuff. What I love is that I get more done when I am offline from the privileged world of www-disconnected-society.
I adore a quote from Avatar, “I see you!”
I want to see you. I want to feel you. I want to breathe the same air in the same square meter that lies between both of us. And this, this here, is my way to define the undefinable, the beauty of connection.
No social media.
I feel honored to have friends from all over the world, and I have only words of appreciation on how these true human connections have become instruments of growth, a selfless contribution to my journey ahead, interactions that have shaped me into the person I am today. That to me is beyond the beyond, breathtaking. I rarely get to see or talk with my friends with whom I don’t share the same square meter but then, when it happens, it’s divine.
It’s just another aspect of being a nomad, and I am okay with that.
That’s me, now.
And that’s what I am doing.
Still learning, forever learning.
The unknown is my path.
It’s scary, no questions asked.
I am ready, and this is me facing it.
One small and scary baby-step at a time.
Love and Light from Bergen, Netherlands, on purpose,