Hallelujah – we do NOT belong together

There comes a point when sitting still with discomfort suddenly doesn’t feel as if it is enough anymore. From deep within comes the an urge break through something and shake things up a bit…

There comes a point when sitting still with discomfort suddenly doesn’t feel as if it is enough anymore. From deep within comes the an urge break through something and shake things up a bit.

This is where I have arrived now. The ball is put into motion and can’t be stopped any longer. Without thinking it takes me along on its own journey. before I used to schedule all my have tos, but not anymore. Somehow they are sneaking themselves in higher and higher up – as if it has become a game to bust them all together.

This week I could give myself a high five for, after ten years of official absence, being a paid professional writer again. One should never underestimate the feeling of a work well done. It makes you want more no matter if it is more clients, know new people, mastery of some sort or simply just to really genuinely connect.

I surprise myself by even go back and dig for rejections, just to ensure I picked up on all small points to improve, as well as taking in what was said enough to notice the majority is actually positive. Very positive even.

And neither even feels bad.

It just helps me to see clearly were to go deeper and niche in.

From a long life of people please and trying to be there for everything and everybody it is a breath of fresh air to be able to distinctively say I am this and you are that. We can like each other – but from a far. We DO NOT belong together, so let’s not even try. Hallelujah.

I don’t know how it happened, but it just shifted. I can notice the discomfort – and move on to my own path.

Despite the discomfort I am moving forward.

Finding my way home. 302 signals to go.

Image courtesy to www.dreamstime.com/free-photos

Rootless

For the first time in my life I no longer have to run away to be able to cope – I can run towards something instead. It is a shift…

For a few days I couldn’t ground myself to write. Rather than punishing myself I try to reflect;

If I am careless with my routines – especially those grounding me and caring for myself – then I am easier swept away by other’s agendas and influence.

In a situation where you restart beyond zero – the vulnerability is genuinely on the outside. The pain from what seems irrelevant small issues goes right through and there is no protection. And feelings are energy. And afterwards it happens I feel like a wet spot on the ground, desperately trying to rise rather than vanishing down, through the earth, into another world down under.

As a child my references for security was places and not people. My mother had a house, which she mismanaged so much I had to live with my grandmother. We kept the house as a summer and weekend house. It was my whole world. Maybe because it was where I could flee from violence and harsh words in to the world of the nature and the animals. I know those forests like my own pocket.

Eventually my mother let someone else sell it. Someone bought it for a bargain price and burned it down…Every time I do a vision board or something similar there is always a house there. A house where people can come and go, but I am always at home there. With my children and my animals.

For the first time in my life I no longer have to run away to be able to cope – I can run towards something instead. It is a shift that I can literally feel through my whole system – not fully established yet, but on its way – I am rootless-ly flying through my own universe like a pulled up plant looking for a place to settle.

Without my parents I suddenly look for my own culture again. The language, the songs, the views and the smells. Is there a home in me I can not deny no matter how far I travelled? Re-connecting.

It is uncomfortable, but I can’t hurry it to be over.

It is uncomfortable, but I can’t go back.

It is uncomfortable, but I can’t stop it.

I am in the air – on my way home…

321 signals to go.