The Same

The chaos of discovery

I choose this picture because I wanted to show water. Only then I saw the poetry: I Shall Not Feel What I Should Feel. By Laser 3.14

I need to read the same words

to disregard them but still feel their worth.

Their beauty and the dissonance that they cause

I need to say the same things. To tell the same

stories, to once again begin telling new ones.

I need the chaos and comfort of discovery

of detective work, recovery.

The cheesiness

of rhyming rhythm.

The slow-motion of

the water,

the words,

The silence.

I need the same.

The new.

To regognise myself.

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Growing on apart – together

 

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I don’t like cats. But because my friend likes cats and pink, this picture was taken. 

 

‘Growing on’ is not really a well known expression. When thinking of the title Iwas doubting between growing up and moving on. Yet, growing up has a lot of connotation to childhood, and though my argument for today has as well, I thought it to be too narrow of an expression. In another way, moving on sounded quite loaded to me- often when we are talking about moving on, we talk about moving beyond something negative. What I want to talk about today is about growing beyond something, and for that reason I choose the words growing on. This brings be to the second part of the title apart- together. Recently I connected with several ‘old friends’ from different parts of my life. For an afternoon or even a weekend I connected to people I do not connect to on a daily basis. We, in a way grew apart- no longer in the same classes or school, towns and cities have seperate places where we grow. Yet, all stuck in time we moved on, developing ourselves along the way.

 

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Photographs are like old friends- you forget what happens but regognise yourself again. 

 

It always marveles me how little we change. To say it with the great words of the poets of coldplay ‘We Never Change, Do We?’. At the same time, we do grow on. In their video about ‘old friends‘ The School of Life suggest that even though we might not truly be friends with our old friends any more, or wouldn’t be again, we can still benefit of our contact with them because they remind us about previous versions of ourselves. Although intresting and relatable, I found the last few encounters with old friends, and one in the years before much more valuable and hopeful. Moving on and developing our intrests, skills and experiences I now had more in common with these people than before. It strikes me as truly marvelous that despite not having spend time with people that much, the reasons of connection turn out to be more eleborate than previously expected. Appearantly we intuitively connect to like-minded people, so that when we grow although we are apart, we grow towards the same direction.

 

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Stuff are like old friends- although you lose and add some, move to a new house, they stay familiar. 

 

This road is my life. – The way home

DSC01459When we talk about roads in our life we often talk about the decisions we made, the paths we have chosen in our convictions, relationships or careers. ‘Road’ or ‘Path’ are two short words that as metaphors can easily describe the complexity of our lives. These words suggest a direction, movement, a restricted area where we move along that is surrounded by things that are not the road itself, but rather the things we discover alongside our path. At the same time, the word road and path can mean something very specific: a particular road or path, or ‘our road’ compromised of many different paths along the journey. Even though the words path and roads are wonderful metaphors, today I want to talk about a more practical side of these words.

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Throughout different stages of my life, I have walked many roads and paths, and not just the metaphorical ones. The path to my elementary school, ‘the chestnut lane’, my road to the bus and the bus ride to my high school. The different road to a different bus stop when we moved house. From that time on I remember for the first time describing a certain journey as ‘this is my life’. Being a child from a broken home ‘a.k.a. cycling from one part of town to the other with lots of stuff’ I felt that these moments on my bike from one house to another were a practical and metaphorical image of what my life was like. Yet not only the way from my moms to my dad’s house and the other way around, but as well the usual route with our dog felt like ‘my life’. I thought of how sharing this particular walk, a line on a map would be a very intimate activity- sharing a road where I had so many different thoughts.

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As life moved on, I have as well moved houses, no longer in a small town but a big city, the roads have changed, but the concept has not. Every place where I move I have journeys that I take every day. Small pilgrimages from home to work, home to school, home to a church. No matter how often I take these roads, every time they evoke something similar and new to me. I find myself thinking of a certain song when I pass a certain part of my way to high school because I listened to it often there. Or I think of a conversation I had. It is curious how physical roads can bring your mind to things that you would not think of when you wouldn’t be there. The same stories, the same words drift in my mind.

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Truth be told I still walk most of these roads alone, like a pilgrimage I might meet people on the way, and we might walk together, yet I do not truly share my path. The feeling that has been build up from the walking the same path over and over again cannot be transferred by walking the road together once. One of my philosophy teachers once told about Heidegger’s concept that language was like the home in which we live. A powerful and beautiful metaphor,  I think. I would like to suggest something else: Our life is the road that we take.

 

The Bigger Pictures- Lost in the details

 

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Lost- one of my favorite lyrics incorporating the word ‘lost’ is from Newton Faulkners ‘Lullaby’, From his first album of which he made a 45 minutes video where he plays all the songs in his house- lullaby is the last one. The lyrics tell ‘If you’re not lost, I guess that makes you found. The last few weeks with shortening days and no clear goals I must say I felt a little lost.  At a point, I actually watched part of the first episode of lost- because I did not know what to do with myself. This week is a first of very structured weeks- work early in the morning- afternoon and evening off- though I must say these evenings are easily filled.

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Today, however, I do not feel lost- inspired by a roommate who spends her last days before work starts again with improving the house, I finally also executed some of my plans. cleaning out my room and throwing out things makes it possible once again to see some order in the chaos. I even re-arranged some of my work on the wall, and to keep this blog visually interesting I took some photos.

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Everything might still seem a little bit chaotic, but lots of things, including me, are no longer lost. I guess that makes me found.

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Taking care of kids as tool for becoming an adult

I haven’t written on this blog for a long time- somehow through everything, I thought about writing but did not actually do any of it. However, as I asked a friend who wanted to write some years ago if he was writing he said- if thinking is writing, then yes. Interestingly enough being a weird kind of extrovert who thinks while talking, for me, I have been writing, not even in thoughts but in conversations. Conversations with like-minded and different people, people from my age, older and younger much younger.

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Abandoned kids stuff makes for great compostions 🙂

These days I spend my morning babysitting some wonderful kids. It is so interesting to see the parallels between grown-ups and children, and how your role as a person changes when you are the designated adult. Spending my time with the kids both makes me feel younger and more grown up, which is an interesting dynamic. As the designated adult I monitor and coach the children- and at the same time, I think of games or lego constructions more playful than some of the kids. Oh, the joy.

Today the constant ‘I understand, but these are the rules’ and ‘lets now do this because this is what we need to do’, seeped into my unorganized grown-up life. I found myself in the first hour of being home talking to myself as I do to the kids- exhausted as I was -I’d rather just not do anything, but I nudged myself in the right direction like I would the kids.  ‘I understand, but lets just now put everything in the washing machine, and then later in a bit, you can have some tea, and some sweets’, but first, do your chores. Perhaps, after a few months of making sure the kids do and don’t do the right and wrong things, I might even find myself being  a mature grown up 🙂 🙂 .