I have been terrible, to say the least, in keeping up with the blog.
The past 6 months find me
...still here: physically in Switzerland, yet spiritually/mentally/soulfully in a stronger and more healed place.
I guess I should recount my adventures, experiences and learnings (still in process!!) over the past 6 months... yet where to start...
On the flip-- silence can be a wonderful thing, do we always need to engage?
I think that we engage on different levels, through various mediums, and we change it constantly depending on where we are in our current path.
For me, the summer had me writing a lot in a journal, spending a lot of time alone and not going out much. Did go out a bit, spreading my wings to socialize in the fall for just a little.
Stepping away from blogging was part of the process, as well as not having internet at home for a while. And no, I have YET to purchase a television!! I have been TV free since moving here, and I enjoy it. Reading, music and writing, along with the token going out, is how the balance has been maintained.
question: how do you disengage?
30 November 2007
06 June 2007
the weather...
I am still holding onto the one very important lesson that living in Denmark taught me—to trust the process.
People enter our lives for many reasons, reasons not revealed to us until after the storm or sunshine has passed. And if things are not going as we would have perceived them, I try to keep in mind a saying I picked up regarding the mountains of North Carolina when I lived there—if you do not like
…the weather: wait ten minutes.
This has been the longest ten minutes.
I am waiting for the clouds of confusion to clear, anticipating rays of warm clarity, yet even after almost two weeks nothing has changed—at least to my knowledge, yet one never knows what the space between the heavens and the earth has in store as the magic works behind the scenes. I was prepared for almost anything my last day at work in Denmark—following my personal mantra of “anticipate everything and expect nothing”—yet I was taken aback by a certain response. And I know, per my observations and acceptance, all I usually need to do is wait ten minutes.
Has it been ten minutes?
What I do appreciate is the warmth of those from whom I least suspected, and how beautiful a thing like that can be. Out until 4am with a couple of old colleagues having wonderful conversation to close my last day, a visit from another at my home the day before I left, and dinner with my fabulous coffee buddy, Peder, the evening before I departed for Switzerland.
On the flip—what if we rush those ten minutes?
Of course it is in human nature to want to know the outcome, right here, right now. Yet the most beautiful things come to life when given the time to do so. Knowing that, waiting ten minutes is worth doing so.
question— do you have the time?
People enter our lives for many reasons, reasons not revealed to us until after the storm or sunshine has passed. And if things are not going as we would have perceived them, I try to keep in mind a saying I picked up regarding the mountains of North Carolina when I lived there—if you do not like
…the weather: wait ten minutes.
This has been the longest ten minutes.
I am waiting for the clouds of confusion to clear, anticipating rays of warm clarity, yet even after almost two weeks nothing has changed—at least to my knowledge, yet one never knows what the space between the heavens and the earth has in store as the magic works behind the scenes. I was prepared for almost anything my last day at work in Denmark—following my personal mantra of “anticipate everything and expect nothing”—yet I was taken aback by a certain response. And I know, per my observations and acceptance, all I usually need to do is wait ten minutes.
Has it been ten minutes?
What I do appreciate is the warmth of those from whom I least suspected, and how beautiful a thing like that can be. Out until 4am with a couple of old colleagues having wonderful conversation to close my last day, a visit from another at my home the day before I left, and dinner with my fabulous coffee buddy, Peder, the evening before I departed for Switzerland.
On the flip—what if we rush those ten minutes?
Of course it is in human nature to want to know the outcome, right here, right now. Yet the most beautiful things come to life when given the time to do so. Knowing that, waiting ten minutes is worth doing so.
question— do you have the time?
04 June 2007
test drive...
I am really not sure what to even write, other than things in Switzerland are going as they should.
I have spent the last week or so reflecting on who I am, from where I have come and where I am headed.
I arrived to Denmark a broken person, running from myself. Last August I started on an amazing growth journey that has taken about eight months to complete. I liken my being in Switzerland as putting my rediscovered self, my wholeness and health on a
…“test drive”: to take what I have learned about myself,
my fears, where they come from, my joy, my passion, what stirs the little one inside and how to keep her from getting behind the wheel (after all, the driving age is 18 for a reason!) and put it to work. See how far I have come and to become an even more beautiful person—one, in addition to all things beautiful and positive, who focuses upon and trusts the process itself.
I owe it to myself first and the ones I love.
As I said to someone who is close to me back home--when I told him the news about my new job and leaving Denmark for Switzerland-- sometimes you have to leave in order to come back.
question— to where is your drive leading?
I have spent the last week or so reflecting on who I am, from where I have come and where I am headed.
I arrived to Denmark a broken person, running from myself. Last August I started on an amazing growth journey that has taken about eight months to complete. I liken my being in Switzerland as putting my rediscovered self, my wholeness and health on a
…“test drive”: to take what I have learned about myself,
my fears, where they come from, my joy, my passion, what stirs the little one inside and how to keep her from getting behind the wheel (after all, the driving age is 18 for a reason!) and put it to work. See how far I have come and to become an even more beautiful person—one, in addition to all things beautiful and positive, who focuses upon and trusts the process itself.
I owe it to myself first and the ones I love.
As I said to someone who is close to me back home--when I told him the news about my new job and leaving Denmark for Switzerland-- sometimes you have to leave in order to come back.
question— to where is your drive leading?
19 May 2007
to leave...
Surreal morning to wake up to.
It is rather weird to get up and not hear Azureluna pouncing around. As I laid in bed last night after a trip to the ER, heading off to a deep slumber, at first I thought that I heard him shuffling in his litter box. Was just another noise. Then words from my *boyfriend* Thomas at work zipped through my mind, and I broke down and cried. “I have yet
...to leave: yet I already feel lost.”
The jazz last night was excellent, the company even more so. My good friend from my masters program and I got at the White Lamb right at 8pm and nabbed a few good seats. She kept my spirits up throughout the evening. We chatted about my cat from Jasper, Georgia, how he made it to almost 11 years of age, and all of the significance behind the timing of how, where, when he entered my life and the timing of his death.
When I was at university I had a boyfriend for a couple of years. When I moved to Atlanta, things went flying apart and I found myself single for the first time as a young woman. At the age of 24 I was ready to take on the world, yet yearned for the company of someone when I got home to my adorable yet empty house apartment. So off to the mountains of Georgia I drove, up highway 76 through Canton, only to stop at an Amoco gas station in Jasper to meet the woman who was selling him. We got home, he was screaming and rather annoyed, so we hung out a bit. Later that evening I went outside to think about what to name him. I thought about naming him after the city where I picked him up, and the fit was not quite right. I then thought about the color of his eyes—a piercing blue—and started translating it into different languages. Azul, nah. Azure, it is a type of blue, good start. The moon was out and it hit me—Azureluna.
In less than 2 weeks, after nearly 11 years of never understanding fully why I have been running from myself in my early adulthood, I am whole and am moving to Switzerland alone. Single for the first time since I bought Azureluna. I honestly feel that he knew it was ok for me to continue my journey alone. As he sat on the examination table yesterday, I looked at him and asked if he was ready to go. He slowly blinked approvingly.
The vet administered the first injection to allow him to sleep. Of course, over the years he always seemed to get in the last word and as the first injection went in he bit my thumb, nailing it right at the tendon. It is still swollen this morning and hurts like hell. I held him in my arms as he snored, singing *Prince Nez*, the song I would dance to with him when he was a kitten by the Squirrel Nut Zippers. The second and final injection was administered as I held him, and quickly he went to sleep for good. In his mother’s arms. He was pronounced dead at 17:20 yesterday, a holiday in Europe that celebrates the Ascension of Jesus (not a religious person here, just found the coincidence interesting!!)
So this morning I started cleaning up his things, nursing my thumb and now arm. My thumb was hurting, the tendon was inflamed last night and I decided to call the emergency doctor to see if I could get an antibiotic as a preventative measure. When was my last tetanus shot, he asks. Oh great. 1983. So at 1:30am I am in the ER, speaking in Danish to the nurse, telling her how I hate needles and shots. She quickly grabs my left arm and gets me, meanwhile I am yelping curses in Danish—aye for helvede, for fanden. She laughs after it is over, commenting that my Danish is rather excellent, considering that when I first got in I explained in Danish that I speak Spanish and English and that my Danish is not that good. I was indeed proud, first medical examination I did without speaking English. Even more so impressive, since earlier in the evening I was speaking Spanish to someone at the White Lamb and usually it takes a few days for me to flip languages in my head.
So back to the quote that started this entry. When Thomas said it last week, it was rather touching. What a beautiful saying. And it occurred to me last night that Azureluna felt lost to a degree, for he can tell that a move is underway and he does not like change. Yet he knew I am no longer lost, complete and whole, and therefore he was ready to leave.
On the flip—what if we do not have the strength to move on? How do we know we are at that place where we can?
Intuition for starters, at least for me. Early in the morning of 23 April, I woke at 2:30am and made sense of a few things. I let go and surrendered to one notion, and everything spiritually, mentally and emotionally came into alignment. I felt a peace I never had before, and I was pretty sure that my moving on to Switzerland felt right. That my thoughts of being whole were spot on. With Azureluna dying, nearly 11 days before my move to Switzerland, it is a sign for sure.
In trusting the process, everything comes full circle, revealing itself when it is time to do so.
As for my little man from Jasper, Georgia… he will be cremated on Monday. I am still thinking about where to spread his ashes, and for sure there will be a place here in Denmark, his last home. As for Switzerland, well, it does not feel quite right, to bring his ashes (or even a part of them) there. Although I will be leaving him here in Denmark and going to Switzerland alone, sometimes we have to leave in order to come back.
question: when are you found?
It is rather weird to get up and not hear Azureluna pouncing around. As I laid in bed last night after a trip to the ER, heading off to a deep slumber, at first I thought that I heard him shuffling in his litter box. Was just another noise. Then words from my *boyfriend* Thomas at work zipped through my mind, and I broke down and cried. “I have yet
...to leave: yet I already feel lost.”
The jazz last night was excellent, the company even more so. My good friend from my masters program and I got at the White Lamb right at 8pm and nabbed a few good seats. She kept my spirits up throughout the evening. We chatted about my cat from Jasper, Georgia, how he made it to almost 11 years of age, and all of the significance behind the timing of how, where, when he entered my life and the timing of his death.
When I was at university I had a boyfriend for a couple of years. When I moved to Atlanta, things went flying apart and I found myself single for the first time as a young woman. At the age of 24 I was ready to take on the world, yet yearned for the company of someone when I got home to my adorable yet empty house apartment. So off to the mountains of Georgia I drove, up highway 76 through Canton, only to stop at an Amoco gas station in Jasper to meet the woman who was selling him. We got home, he was screaming and rather annoyed, so we hung out a bit. Later that evening I went outside to think about what to name him. I thought about naming him after the city where I picked him up, and the fit was not quite right. I then thought about the color of his eyes—a piercing blue—and started translating it into different languages. Azul, nah. Azure, it is a type of blue, good start. The moon was out and it hit me—Azureluna.
In less than 2 weeks, after nearly 11 years of never understanding fully why I have been running from myself in my early adulthood, I am whole and am moving to Switzerland alone. Single for the first time since I bought Azureluna. I honestly feel that he knew it was ok for me to continue my journey alone. As he sat on the examination table yesterday, I looked at him and asked if he was ready to go. He slowly blinked approvingly.
The vet administered the first injection to allow him to sleep. Of course, over the years he always seemed to get in the last word and as the first injection went in he bit my thumb, nailing it right at the tendon. It is still swollen this morning and hurts like hell. I held him in my arms as he snored, singing *Prince Nez*, the song I would dance to with him when he was a kitten by the Squirrel Nut Zippers. The second and final injection was administered as I held him, and quickly he went to sleep for good. In his mother’s arms. He was pronounced dead at 17:20 yesterday, a holiday in Europe that celebrates the Ascension of Jesus (not a religious person here, just found the coincidence interesting!!)
So this morning I started cleaning up his things, nursing my thumb and now arm. My thumb was hurting, the tendon was inflamed last night and I decided to call the emergency doctor to see if I could get an antibiotic as a preventative measure. When was my last tetanus shot, he asks. Oh great. 1983. So at 1:30am I am in the ER, speaking in Danish to the nurse, telling her how I hate needles and shots. She quickly grabs my left arm and gets me, meanwhile I am yelping curses in Danish—aye for helvede, for fanden. She laughs after it is over, commenting that my Danish is rather excellent, considering that when I first got in I explained in Danish that I speak Spanish and English and that my Danish is not that good. I was indeed proud, first medical examination I did without speaking English. Even more so impressive, since earlier in the evening I was speaking Spanish to someone at the White Lamb and usually it takes a few days for me to flip languages in my head.
So back to the quote that started this entry. When Thomas said it last week, it was rather touching. What a beautiful saying. And it occurred to me last night that Azureluna felt lost to a degree, for he can tell that a move is underway and he does not like change. Yet he knew I am no longer lost, complete and whole, and therefore he was ready to leave.
On the flip—what if we do not have the strength to move on? How do we know we are at that place where we can?
Intuition for starters, at least for me. Early in the morning of 23 April, I woke at 2:30am and made sense of a few things. I let go and surrendered to one notion, and everything spiritually, mentally and emotionally came into alignment. I felt a peace I never had before, and I was pretty sure that my moving on to Switzerland felt right. That my thoughts of being whole were spot on. With Azureluna dying, nearly 11 days before my move to Switzerland, it is a sign for sure.
In trusting the process, everything comes full circle, revealing itself when it is time to do so.
As for my little man from Jasper, Georgia… he will be cremated on Monday. I am still thinking about where to spread his ashes, and for sure there will be a place here in Denmark, his last home. As for Switzerland, well, it does not feel quite right, to bring his ashes (or even a part of them) there. Although I will be leaving him here in Denmark and going to Switzerland alone, sometimes we have to leave in order to come back.
question: when are you found?
17 May 2007
circle of...
Another significant day.
In September of 1996, I bought my cat, Azureluna, in Jesper, Georgia. I was living in Atlanta at the time, starting my life as a single woman. I brought him home and starting dancing with him to the Squirrel Nut Zippers, a New Orleans style jazz band from North Carolina. I would sing to him and swirl him around.
He has seen many boyfriends, husband, I always referred to him as the most consistent man in my adult life. And today I had to put him to sleep. So the
…circle of: life continues, orbiting peacefully onwards.
I think he knew that it was time for both of us to move on.
For the first time in my life I feel complete, unafraid, whole and healthy. He has been at my side all these years, and I think he instinctively knew that it was time. I finally had my heart, mind and spirit align about a month ago and I think he felt that I was just fine to go on alone.
As we got in the car today, I wanted to play the Squirrel Nut Zippers CD I first played for him when I got him almost 11 years ago. The CD is titled *Hot*, and his favourite song was *Prince Nez*. Then I remember I left it on my colleague’s desk back at work. And funnily enough, I mentioned to this colleague earlier in the week that I was going to the White Lamb this evening to see some good ol’ New Orleans style jazz live. The only place in town that has it. Thursday nights are special, for throughout the evening more and more people show up with their instruments. By midnight there are 16 or so pieces scattered throughout the crowd.
What a befitting way to celebrate the life of my little man, my Azureluna from Jesper, Georgia. Thank you for being a supportive and loving force over the years.
question: how do you celebrate?
In September of 1996, I bought my cat, Azureluna, in Jesper, Georgia. I was living in Atlanta at the time, starting my life as a single woman. I brought him home and starting dancing with him to the Squirrel Nut Zippers, a New Orleans style jazz band from North Carolina. I would sing to him and swirl him around.
He has seen many boyfriends, husband, I always referred to him as the most consistent man in my adult life. And today I had to put him to sleep. So the
…circle of: life continues, orbiting peacefully onwards.
I think he knew that it was time for both of us to move on.
For the first time in my life I feel complete, unafraid, whole and healthy. He has been at my side all these years, and I think he instinctively knew that it was time. I finally had my heart, mind and spirit align about a month ago and I think he felt that I was just fine to go on alone.
As we got in the car today, I wanted to play the Squirrel Nut Zippers CD I first played for him when I got him almost 11 years ago. The CD is titled *Hot*, and his favourite song was *Prince Nez*. Then I remember I left it on my colleague’s desk back at work. And funnily enough, I mentioned to this colleague earlier in the week that I was going to the White Lamb this evening to see some good ol’ New Orleans style jazz live. The only place in town that has it. Thursday nights are special, for throughout the evening more and more people show up with their instruments. By midnight there are 16 or so pieces scattered throughout the crowd.
What a befitting way to celebrate the life of my little man, my Azureluna from Jesper, Georgia. Thank you for being a supportive and loving force over the years.
question: how do you celebrate?
08 May 2007
comfortable silence...
Today marks the three year anniversary of when I hopped on a plane, leaving the US and heading for the unknown in Denmark. Something was telling me to not go in April 2004. I remember it vividly. In fact, it was 25 April, outside of my best friend’s house in St. Petersburg, Florida. I was crying. I knew that the person I was going to was not ready for me, and I not he, I knew it. I had this deep feeling that things were not going to be easy. Yet at the same time, another part of me understood that I had just a few more challenges to go and that I had more growing up to do. And even though these past three years have been tough, I am all the better for it. For the first time in my adult life I can sit in
…comfortable silence: no panic, no little person at the wheel, acting and reacting as a grown woman
in all situations. Not feeling attacked. Not feeling let down, abandoned, in pain.
Not to say that I do not have those down days. The work it has taken spiritually to get here has been a painful journey. Yet had I not done the work, I would not be free. I look back and wonder in amazement as to how long I operated from a painful place, how I used to be defensive, scared… oh I could go on. I had not healed from the past.
Had I chosen to leave DK any sooner, I would have been running. And a part of me deep inside knows that I can return one day if I choose. I had to settle things here first, face things here first, and in doing so I have found my authentic self and am whole.
On the flip—what if we do not take that painful journey of self discovery?
I have lived through the results of surviving in pain, unhealed. Not taking the journey means we are not whole and it is impossible to give ourselves completely to another without being whole. Well, we can, but it would be destructive, full of co-dependency and disappointment, where neither can become beautiful human beings.
By the way, you are most brave and I am proud of you. Fearless indeed.
question: what is your path?
…comfortable silence: no panic, no little person at the wheel, acting and reacting as a grown woman
in all situations. Not feeling attacked. Not feeling let down, abandoned, in pain.
Not to say that I do not have those down days. The work it has taken spiritually to get here has been a painful journey. Yet had I not done the work, I would not be free. I look back and wonder in amazement as to how long I operated from a painful place, how I used to be defensive, scared… oh I could go on. I had not healed from the past.
Had I chosen to leave DK any sooner, I would have been running. And a part of me deep inside knows that I can return one day if I choose. I had to settle things here first, face things here first, and in doing so I have found my authentic self and am whole.
On the flip—what if we do not take that painful journey of self discovery?
I have lived through the results of surviving in pain, unhealed. Not taking the journey means we are not whole and it is impossible to give ourselves completely to another without being whole. Well, we can, but it would be destructive, full of co-dependency and disappointment, where neither can become beautiful human beings.
By the way, you are most brave and I am proud of you. Fearless indeed.
question: what is your path?
26 April 2007
full circle...
Things are changing rapidly here, both personally and professionally. For a hint, just take a look at where I will be within the month, listed as my location on my profile….
The past ten years have been difficult, sprinkled with joy and amazing growth opportunities. I admit that I have taken the tougher path, why I have no idea, yet last Sunday was an indication that I have come
…full circle: with who I am and am healthy and whole. Finally.
Since last August I started a process that was frightening at times, sad, painful. I started to really look in and see who I am, why I picked the guys I have in the past, where my voids were, where the little girl was at the wheel, why I never owned my emotions, felt rejected… on and on and on.
Then this past Sunday I had a feeling that something was not resolved, that I had overlooked something. As some of you know, I have been looking to move to Switzerland for quite some time. Many interviews, a few opportunities, yet things did not seem to fit. Well, I have found a professional fit and am moving. Yet my heart was not in alignment—it was not that I was not ready to do it, yet something was tugging at me and I knew it had something to do with Denmark.
As I was out with my girlfriend at a farm last Sunday, I got a heavy feeling. So deep I had to leave early so that I could get home and think. Spent a few hours searching for what was bugging my heart and figured it out—it was someone who had been under my nose the entire time! It even woke me at 2:30 in the morning that night and I never went back to bed. Things over the past few months started to make sense, all the subtleties, people’s impressions and observations…
Once I made this discovery, several things occurred. First, my heart and mind came in alignment. I realized that had I discovered these feelings any sooner, I would have been operating out of that unhealthy and painful framework. Which means I could face it now-- as opposed to just acting without truly understanding where it was coming from, driven by that old need to be accepted at all costs. Then the slight fears of moving to Switzerland disappeared. Completely.
I *gave in* to what I was feeling rather than fighting and overanalyzing things, yet checked in to be sure that it was coming not from a need to be loved and accepted, but rather from a place where that love is a true gift—no conditions, no expectations, just plain is. It is a gift not only when received yet also when we give it…
And deep in my heart I know that for the first time I am healthy and whole. As for Denmark, well, who knows, yet sometimes we have to leave in order to come back.
On the flip—share this with the other? Or hold it in?
Well, I admit I took the plunge after examining everything and shared what I came to discover. And the beauty of it all is that I did not panic, cling on to the notion and most certainly did not feel rejected. Not at all. That in itself is a testament that I have come full circle.
The little girl inside is finally, finally at peace. The woman is free.
question: what is your gift?
The past ten years have been difficult, sprinkled with joy and amazing growth opportunities. I admit that I have taken the tougher path, why I have no idea, yet last Sunday was an indication that I have come
…full circle: with who I am and am healthy and whole. Finally.
Since last August I started a process that was frightening at times, sad, painful. I started to really look in and see who I am, why I picked the guys I have in the past, where my voids were, where the little girl was at the wheel, why I never owned my emotions, felt rejected… on and on and on.
Then this past Sunday I had a feeling that something was not resolved, that I had overlooked something. As some of you know, I have been looking to move to Switzerland for quite some time. Many interviews, a few opportunities, yet things did not seem to fit. Well, I have found a professional fit and am moving. Yet my heart was not in alignment—it was not that I was not ready to do it, yet something was tugging at me and I knew it had something to do with Denmark.
As I was out with my girlfriend at a farm last Sunday, I got a heavy feeling. So deep I had to leave early so that I could get home and think. Spent a few hours searching for what was bugging my heart and figured it out—it was someone who had been under my nose the entire time! It even woke me at 2:30 in the morning that night and I never went back to bed. Things over the past few months started to make sense, all the subtleties, people’s impressions and observations…
Once I made this discovery, several things occurred. First, my heart and mind came in alignment. I realized that had I discovered these feelings any sooner, I would have been operating out of that unhealthy and painful framework. Which means I could face it now-- as opposed to just acting without truly understanding where it was coming from, driven by that old need to be accepted at all costs. Then the slight fears of moving to Switzerland disappeared. Completely.
I *gave in* to what I was feeling rather than fighting and overanalyzing things, yet checked in to be sure that it was coming not from a need to be loved and accepted, but rather from a place where that love is a true gift—no conditions, no expectations, just plain is. It is a gift not only when received yet also when we give it…
And deep in my heart I know that for the first time I am healthy and whole. As for Denmark, well, who knows, yet sometimes we have to leave in order to come back.
On the flip—share this with the other? Or hold it in?
Well, I admit I took the plunge after examining everything and shared what I came to discover. And the beauty of it all is that I did not panic, cling on to the notion and most certainly did not feel rejected. Not at all. That in itself is a testament that I have come full circle.
The little girl inside is finally, finally at peace. The woman is free.
question: what is your gift?
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