The worst

J'ai peur d'un baiser

Comme d'une abeille.

Je souffre et je veille

Sans me reposer:

J'ai peur d'un baiser!

A Walk in the Forest

Sunday afternoon. Mr. Man is surfing his I pad. I'm flitting through TV channels, overworking the remote. Nothing can root me today. I feel haunted, restless. No book can captivate me, no project feels satisfying enough. I've got to get out of here.

The smell of fresh pine, salty sea and the heady sweetness of decomposing leaves and moss greets me as soon as I open the car door to step out. And silence, blessed silence. Finally I can think! Finally I can hear my inner voice. In the distance I hear waves rushing to their demise over the stony shores and now and then the honking call of swans break the silence. I look around. The darkest corner, the most twisting road, that's the one I want to take. Ever further along the unknown until I'm good and lost. Or at least until I can pretend to be. And never, never ever the same route back.

Without the usual fears crippling my mind; the fear of falling; the fear of not having energy enough; of forgetting this and that; I step into the forest and am immediately enchanted. God how I've missed this!

The exertion heats me, flushes my skin and the air feels gradually colder, crisper. I'm panting like a dog and the sound of my ragged breaths feel disturbing in the stillness. I'm rushing in for sanctuary, trusting my legs to carry me as far as necessary. Fleeing almost, from modern age, plastic and metal. My lungs labor for air, and the clean air burns like a crystal through my lungs. Taking all the filth in them and rendering them clean and new. A cigarette would lessen the icy impact, but I can't smoke here. It would be sacrilegious. The forest is the only holy place I recognize, my only place of worship. It's a cathedral of peace and quiet. Smoking here would be offensive. Unnatural. Abominate.

 My sight is the last of my senses to surrender to the intentional slowness that is being in the here and now. Twisted tree branches, perfectly clear springs, mossy hills and the gentle swinging of grass catch my eyes. My imagination runs wild. I completely can understand how tales of trolls and fairies came about. Better stories of them than of cars and factories, of stress and finances. Sadly, for a creature capable of so much, our imaginations have taken a turn for the duller, more politically correct and morally nonthreatening.

I've walked good and long when I notice the shadows getting deeper. The sun is slowly setting, and I need to get back. I wish I didn't have to. I wish I could stay longer, just keep on walking. I’m afraid I’ll lose my new sense of equilibrium and all of a sudden, that equilibrium is the most precious thing to me. It’s what I’ve been missing for so long, what I’ve unknowingly yearned for, and having it now makes me giddy with relief and lightness. As I approach the car, a heap of glistening blue metal in the middle of nowhere, I’m afraid of losing my sense of peace. Can I take it home with me? Will it last?

It does.

Sincerely,

Pepsi-Mama

Mastering the ’to-do’

When I was younger, I had a small black book. In it I listed books to read, doodled, hatched ideas, wrote down my thoughts, glued small pictures of beautiful things or artwork, quotes; pretty much anything and everything that rocked my world or made sense in one way or the other. But as I grew older, that little black book was slowly replaced by lists and fell into oblivion. Getting things done, taking responsibility, acting my age elbowed its way to the forefront, and being inspired, daydreaming and creating was something I no longer had the time for. I remember my younger self sitting in a corner of a busy bar on the weekend, writing page after page all night, nursing the same beer for several hours, compelled to get whatever it was out of my head and onto paper (journaling if I remember correctly). I’d love to get to know that version of me again! The only time I show the same frenzy now is when I’m paying the bills. The sense of accomplishment that gives me is sadly one of the highs of my life.

I’ve been living by my calendar for a long time. Problem is, the calendar soon proved insufficient; I still ended up making list after list after list. For groceries, for things to do around the house, of peoples birthdays and other small things to remember. I even have a list of thing to do for my own enjoyment should that time arrive. My handbag is full of post-it notes scribbled with very important things not to forget, just waiting to be added to one of those lists.

As the lists has grown in number, and each list in length, so has my exhaustion. Trying to organize my life takes up more time than I have to actually do the thing on the lists. And the longer the same things lingered on those lists, the more reluctant I become to get them done. I really resent them,  but can't seem to function without them either.

Recently I made a note of meditating. It had exclamation mark after exclamation mark and was circled with highlighter. At the time I thought nothing of it. But I found it yesterday, and something just clicked. How fucked up are you if you have to make a reminder note of meditating?? Man I’m a mess!!

So I'm daydreaming about a stressless life and how to come about it. In my dreams I'm throwing out all the lists and calendars and settling for something like this:

Very girlie, girlie. Very paired down yet happy, happy. Things to do is narrowed down to only one thing per day. What to make for dinner has always been one of the thing I’m always procrastinating over, since I really don’t like cooking, so it’s way out there – no way to avoid thinking about it. And so is keeping in touch. I’m terrible at it, and it grates on my conscience all the time. All the other little things that would normally end up on a list somewhere is listed under the enjoy! segment. A reminder of that with mindfulness, even mundane chores that usually would suck the life out of me, can be fulfilling if I just slow down.  And finally, the ‘what happened’ part to start me journaling again and to remember what to be grateful for. 

 However, this figment of my imagination is scaring the living hell out of me. How will I ever remember everything? The control freak in me screams in horror. So no, at the time this is not a viable alternative for me, but I wish it could be. I'll probably just do a post it note detox and work my way from there. Baby steps, right?!

Sincerely,

Pepsi-Mama

The scents of summer, or, I wish I were a dog.

I've used my nose quite a bit this summer. It started early this spring, too early really to be logical, but what can I say. Instant satisfaction is such a human trait. Of course I'm talking about the first barbecue of the year. The one where one huddles close to the fire, battling the chill of spring. The scent of the first sausages grilling came drifting from the neighbors yard, signaling the start of summer. A defiant start, certainly, at only +15 degrees Celsius, but a start none the less. After some time, that scent becomes common, and indistinct.  That's when the Hackberry takes over. The trees turn white with blossoms, and your nose gets another delicious treat. Lilacs are next on the list, then bridal wreath spirea and roses. Not forgetting the scent of freshly mowed grass, or the salty scent of the beach.

After rainfall we get treated with the scent of petrichor. The official explanation of petrichor has to do with plants emitting oils during dry spells, which seeps into the soil and are released by rain. But the explanation I like best, although it's not true at all, is that that's how it smells all the time, but that our human nostrils can't detect it unless the humidity is at a certain level. I shamelessly substitute the truth with my own fake, but more romantic version. (It just goes to show that sometimes the first thing you accidentally read on-line is the thing that sticks with you.)

Anyway, today this made me think that I might like to be a dog, if that's how the world smells like all the time for them. What a wonderful experience that would be! No wonder dogs run around sticking their nose everywhere! Although... What's up with the crotch-sniffing?
I'd most definitely leave that one out. 

*Woof, Woof*

Sincerely,

Pepsi-Mama

Overstating the obvious

The Bitchslap I got from Karma for thinking bad about my mother (see previous post) , was an eyeopener in more than one way.

Apparently I've also swallowed the text-trend  in interior design sink and hook.
This pic woke me up:

At the bottom left corner. What do I see?

I'm not blind, nor stupid. I can see there's tea there. Why the text??

I'm sooo painting this over. 

Then I turn around, and no less than 3 meters away, there's this hanging on the wall by the fridge: 

Huh. Guess I have to rethink the not stupid statement, right? 

However, this does not contain tea... Bazinga! 

After doing it's foremost duty; reminding me to take the meds I'm on, it also  holds an assortment of all the little knick-knacks I don't know where else to put, but which comes in handy in the kitchen. Such as rubberbands, breadbags-clips, toothpicks and extra fridge magnets.

But why haven't I scratched off the text? Poor guests! I always tell them to make themselves at home in my kitchen, and yet here I am misleading them terribly. He, he, he... ;)

By now I'm intrigued. What else text-wise is there really here? Quite a bit it turns out. 

Just in the kitchen area I found:

Sink backsplash.

After 1,5 year in the house, I still don't remember which knob turns on what.
The controlfreak in me loves the labeller so...

True.

Again, true.

Truth #3. Sign remade to magnet,
hanging on the edge of  the stove fan, facing the living room area. 

The living room area had been spared, almost. This is the Man's addition of text in the house and it's going out to the Party-Barn come spring.

Moving on throughout the rest of our little house:

Hallway.

Bathroom. Colorcoded sortingstation for laundry.

Little bathroom, cabinet. Labeller in use again.
Top shelf: Batteries-Plugs-Insects-Sun
Lower shelf: Medicines (Me, the Man, All purpose)

The little bathroom again. Small window, no real need for curtains,
 so why not a framed comic? I do not know how my mind works...

Desk.

Bedroom mirror. "Life's simple pleasures:
A seed to sow, a place to go, a walk to take, something to make"

Bedroom again.

What do you think? I'm thinking maybe I need a text-detox. I'm really overstating the obvious, aren't I?

Funny thing is, the only "statement" we have deliberately placed in our home doesn't even have text on it.  This is it:

Hint: It's not the lamp nor the fern.

Sincerely,

Pepsi-Mama

Wanting happiness

A while ago I saw this picture floating around the internet:

This is not an actual quote people, the Buddha didn't actually say this, but it gets the point across.

I like the picture, it's simple and it gets the point across. Happiness honestly comes down to those two things. Every selfhelp site on the web already know this, but it is usually phrased in the style of  "stop being selfish", "concentrate on others", "count your blessings", "see the possibilities", "let go of anger" or "stay in the moment". Those are all platitudes, describing some of the End Results rather than the How To.

So then, if it really is that easy to be happy... why aren't we?

First step - what's ego? And how does one go about removing it?

I really couldn't give you an honest answer to that even if I tried. All I can say is that it has to do with our preconceived notions of our selves. I for example had always had the notion of being a kind, smart and beautiful person. (Well, don't we all? You're telling me you're dumb, evil and ugly??)
School, IQ tests and university told me so, my parents told me so, the mirror and the beauty magazines told me so. But once I realized all that they had been telling me was that I was a push-over, really good at processing data, and that I stood up OK in comparison to the current picture of beauty, what was I left with? Empty handed, that's what. Doormats and desperately needed to be loved persons are kind as well, not protesting being stepped on. Computers can process data faster than I, not to mention the even smarter people who've written the programs. Outer beauty is not constant, it peeks for most during late teens to late twenties, because that's when we're most fertile. I had believed in the hype all my life.

So I had to start over. Am I really smart? Heck no! We all know there's more to being smart than the ability to be able to grind, digest and spit out data.
Am I pretty? On the outside? Who cares?! Why is it even important? What does it accomplish? Beauty standards change all the time, and so do you with age. Some days I compare, others not so much.
Am I kind? Well turns out, once I had grown a pair - kind of, but not all the time. I try to be polite though, no need to spread negativity around.

Ego's hard to get rid of. In fact, you'll probably never get rid of all your preconceived notions of self, and even if you at one point do, you'll still have to watch out for fall-backs. You've been thinking one thing all your life, believed in it fullheartedly, so breaking out of old thinking habits require constant vigilance. And if there's one thing to be said about being human, it's that we're not constant in any way, and concentrating deeply on something  lasts what? 10 minutes?

Removing the ego and the desire, or as I like to call it, rethinking everything on your own again - now that's the tricky part. Meditation helped me (some, still got some work to do) break the patterns of thinking that do not serve me on the quest for happiness, but which rather serves to cling to the first part of the problem; ego. 

Once ego is set aside, desire has nothing to cling to, so you're getting rid of both steps at once. So start thinking. Who do you think you are? Why do you believe that? Who told you, and why did they tell you? Got any proof that it's the exhaustive truth? Does it matter if you're not? To whom does it matter, and why? Keep digging with questions like that! The topics to cover are endless.

I found that once I got to the bottom of who I really was, I could let go of the hang ups that were holding me back from being truly happy and content. (Yes, *Sigh*,  I know this sounds unbelievably conceited). I'm a deeply flawed individual, but by realizing that, I could accept what really is, not keep fighting and faking my reality into something it is not. I could stop appearing happy, chasing happy, faking happy -  and instead actually just be happy.

Sincerely,
Pepsi-Mama

Ventilating

Me and you and you and me
No matter how they toss the dice, it has to be
The only one for me is you, and you for me
So happy together

Bull.

The Turtles were full of it.

My boyfriend of five years and I have been living together for 10 months now, and let me just say I have no idea how people do it without losing their mind. Don’t get me wrong now, I love him dearly. I just want to kill him and string him up in the garage sometimes.

Our problem; Communication.

We think we’re clear and precise

 …and we’re obviously not.

Bitching on the down-sides of living with the man you love is easy when he’s not around to disagree, so to even out the Karmic repercussions; here’s a short shout out for the up-sides: 

• Bulging arms and other assorted eye-candy readily accessible 24/7.

• No problem working with heights anymore. Or cans. Or the heater.

• Always a partner in crime ready for whatever dumb idea I should come up with.

• Toasty warm feet.

Sincerely,

Pepsi-Mama

Things worth believing in

Secondhand Lions – Uncle Hub’s Speech:

"Sometimes the things that may or may not be true

are the things a man needs to believe in the most.

That people are basically good;

that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything;

that power and money, money and power mean nothing;

that good always triumphs over evil;

and I want you to remember this, that love…

true love never dies.

You remember that, boy. You remember that.

Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not.

You see, a man should believe in those things,

because those are the things worth believing in."

This was originally a part of Marelisa's post. The woman is wonderfully inspirational! If you'd like the whole thing, the link is here! Make sure to watch the Britain's got talent video she posted - I cried my eyes out, it was so beautiful!

Embrace your inner weirdo

Read something lovely here today, and wanted to share!
(make sure my daughter reads it later on)

Lifelessons provided by the web

Otto, part II

Some of you might remember a recent posting of mine, concerning a dog named Otto.
Well, I checked the animal shelters homepage again today, and he's no longer listed.

...

I guess I sort of knew it, but I really didn't see it coming.
Oddly naive for a control freak.

So, that's gonna be today's reminder: If you hesitate in matters of love (of any kind), you've instantly lost.
Or as Jack Sparrow said: If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it.

My day in a nutshell/Min dag i ett nötskal

Hollywood conspiracy theories

Sitting by my desk at work, doing the usual Monday+procrastination routine, I started roaming the web. It didn't take me long to find something to drool over, and that picture is the one below. Please enjoy. However, in order to at least seem to be doing something, I had to move the cursor every now and then, and that's when it hit me. There's definitely something fishy going on in Hollywood... How can there be two drop dead gorgeous men like these two alive at the same time? As if only one of them weren't blessing enough?

Whammo!
Another of my momentary lapses of insanity came rushing head on.

Theory #1
(Yummy, yummy btw)
Hollywood sexy-men retail store?
Somebody had better tell me where to place my order!

Theory #2
Contemporary look-alikes makes me think....
....cloning?
Maybe even robotics?

Theory #3
Time travelling?
Where do I buy my ticket?
And how expensive is plastic surgery in the future? Anybody know?

Post-it!

Web-loot of the day. Link in the list to the right for those who need more than just one post-it. (Things we forget)

Självförklarande

Dregel...

VIKINGS
If this is what they look like I'm ready to be pillaged

Favorit.

Favorit. Enlightenment av Ivo. Snart på en vägg nära mig.