Early this morning I was sitting outside, under a very large old tree, and while I was writing it started to rain.  before i could even see the rain drops, I could hear them. thousands and thousands of tiny little water drops can create an  intense sound. the rain was strong - at least according to the sound level. I thought to myself that I should get up and run inside before the papers get soaked in the rain,  yet i was still reluctant to get up. and then it dawned  on me - very slowly - that not one of the million drops touched me. I was sitting in the perfect spot. the grass got wet, the porch, the driveway, the roof of the house, but the layers of leaves above me created a perfect umbrella. the rain picked up but still  no drop made its way through the large tree and onto my table. I continued writing. it felt protected by some sort of magic spell, shielded against the rain, the wet, the moisture, so i could continue what i was doing, while the rain clouds were traveled high above me. What a wonderful way to start the day.

there is a saying: " one cannot see the forest forl the trees". one could also say: the mirrored image is blurred and the vision distorted. 

having too many items on the daily to-do list will foster a notion of irritation. the feeling of being  irritated creates a perfect breeding ground for frustration, for self-doubt and for exhaustion. the feeling of being simply overwhelmed grows in the center of the forest, where daylight hardly enters. A very dear girlfriend of mine is walking through a forest these days and i can see that she has lost sight of the trail in the twilight of the forest. road signs are scarce. I wish I could guide her, but how? the forest is dense and the mushrooms growing along the trail could be poisonous. boy scouts have a rule: when you get lost, stay put. yet, does this apply here? maybe the few rays of sunlight will warm the skin, maybe the moist air will calm the mind, maybe the sound of the trees will embrace the soul.. and maybe, maybe .. the trail will reappear. 

Sometimes I want to hide, to hide in a safe place where nobody can find me. I  could watch the world going by from this perfectly secure spot. nobody would know that I'm observing life very carefully. this hide-out place would not be dark or sinister. quite the opposite -i picture a very sunny and airy spot. maybe it's more the wish of being invisible; to be uninvolved in any daily activity or thoughts. 

vacations carry this feeling of being away, of seeing and experiencing the new, of escaping the daily routine and of nourishing the soul. it seems to me that this need is almost embedded in all of us. why? is our daily life of such a nature, that we need to escape from it time to time? or is it simply the way we humans are 'built'? is the 'new' or the 'disconnection' - from time to time - simply necessary to refresh ourselves? is it our only way to observe life from a different perspective, which will allow us to change direction, if needed? are hide-out places or hide-out times just a phenomena, like eating or sleeping? if this is the case, then the need to 'escape' should be looked at differently and we all should have a secret place to return to from time to time.

There are some mornings when i don't know where i am. not in the sense of location, but in the sense of my emotional state. i feel lost, irritated and nervous. I try to make myself understood, but every attempt just turns me upside down and the frustration grows. I need space within myself. space to be able to look at my eeriness. to realize the dimension of it. inner space that allows me to breathe. otherwise, i get lost in a maze of irritation. I'm searching for a helping hand, for comfort and understanding, but the vastness is immense. words are starting battles and they come flying right back at me, sharp and poisoned. The morning hours disappear. they run through time with no revelation and a path of guilt and anger is set for the day. I wish i would know the place of origin, but no tag is attached to the rise of the morning hours. I feel this immense urge to run as fast as I can, but i don't see a road a sign. So I sit still and wait and wait and wait... 

Today is the day. I signed up for a 'performance', which is to say, a reading. I will read a short story. It is a little fairy tale about a fear-stone monster, which i wrote about three months ago. it's a simple story and it's short and I'm nervous. in my mind, i will make a fool out of myself and behind my back, people will laugh at me. This is most unlikely, although my little monster keeps telling me all this nonsense.  I'm feverishly trying to come up with excuses so I won't have to read the story and so far i have not come up with a good reason not to do it. within the next few hours this 'worry' of mine will be history and 20 more people will know about the fear-stone story, while i will sit on a chair with a face so red like as though i just completed a 24 mile run. Maybe i will feel as good as i do after a run. 

no green is greener than the green of spring. no green is more unreal then the spring green. every color seems to enhance this vibrant green; it's lush sparkling beauty sinks into the soul, every day, every day a bit more. there are never more shades of green visible than in spring. no matter where my eyes look, there are more variations to be discovered.  it surprises me. again and again. i find myself buying red flowering plants. i know that red and green are opposite colors on the color wheel. but my lust to buy red doesn't seem to be rooted within this awareness. it's - if i can explain it at all - more the need to contrast the richness of the green to make it stand out eve more. to let it scream, 'this is spring.. now'! In less then a month the various greens have agreed upon a few shades, which will represent them as  'green' for the duration of the summer. but for now the spring greens are still the perfect backdrop for the daily display of flowers. the yellowish looking greens seem to vibrate in place, loaded with desire and eagerness to grow. if spring is anything at all,  then it is green.

i don't understand how life is wired and where the power plants are.

how does  the energy supply really work? there are mornings, when I feel refreshed and energetic, others are quite the opposite. i cannot come up with any logic behind it. Maybe we have too many circuits and too many power outages? Maybe a 'bill' is not paid or storms destroy critical junctions within the network?  it looks to me like the voltage, running through our veins, is fluctuating and therefore causes little interruptions or tiny little short circuits. Maybe the wiring is old and used up and a maintenance call is due? Or we have to upgrade our system and adjust to a newer, more modern standards?  I wish the system would come with a manual and some  'what-to-do-if-instructions'. How will i ever find out  otherwise? any ideas?

it is quite astounding, or shall i say amazing, to observe the energy level of another person. to realize that their actions are very often ruled, not by the present moment, but by some old resentments, which are silently carried around. they are blindfolded and can not see their carry-on luggage. Even more fascinating is the observation that the energy thrown 'against us' enters our own system, that for a certain time we become 'covered' with the other  persons energy blanket and sometimes it even melts into our own systems. sometimes we might be able to gently take the blanket off, shake and stretch and feel ourselves again. sometimes however, the energy diffuses into our own. there are days when i find it very easy to step aside and let that dark energy rolling toward me pass by,  like a thunder storm. more often however, i find myself in the midst of a heavy storm and before i even notice it, I start to fight back, throwing my own  thunder and lightning equipment into the mix and destruction is on it's way. 

the tone of a voice can reflect the energy. The way a body is carried can give a hint of the energy, currently on display. mirrors seldom tell the truth. the daily rush is a perfect way to avoid the notion of it, yet it does not prevent one from receiving it. there is an endless chain of energy interferences and most of the time we 'pretend' not to notice it. how very scary. 

Saturday. and the day is as gorgeous as it could be in the middle of May. at the beginning of  spring.  and i look forward.. a step at a time.. little steps at a time.

the abundance of blossoms on my bush/tree is amazing. the storm yesterday created a snowfall-like scenario with the white little blossoms blowing through the air. the green grass was covered with a white blanket and yet, when i looked at the bush this morning there were still millions of blossoms. it's even impossible to see a difference from yesterday. quite astounding. 

i have an abundance of crankiness in me this morning. i could bitch and moan and yell and criticize. i don't want to go running, i don't want to run any  errands, i don't want to clean the house - no dusting, no vacuum cleaning - i don't want to pay bills - no no no. i want heavy rain and thunder right now and a clock that ticks backwards. and yes, i don't want any smart thoughts or psychological insights. i want to spill my barrel full of crankiness and i know i don't have to worry about the refill. it's free and it will be done automatically. there is an abundance of it. out there. in me. and i cherish it. now. on my run.

on my drive home last night panic rode with me. it was about 9.15 pm when i left the pot luck dinner. I was relaxed as my thoughts were still busy with the various conversations i had. I drove along Route 29 and after about 5 minutes, i turned right onto Rock City Road. it's a small country road that winds it's way through rolling hills. Suddenly a banging sound entered my mind and I couldn't explain the sound. it came clearly from the back of my car, but what was it? and suddenly a creepy feeling entered my system  - what if someone is sitting right behind you? you did not pay attention when you got into the car in the parking lot, did you? the night rolled on and it got darker and darker outside. the trees seemed to hug the street and turned it into a dark tunnel of some sort. 

i tried to look back but that wasn't  a very good idea as the car got  out of the lane a bit. i turned the inside car lights on. i was nervous -  there is nobody on this road, no houses, the cell phone won't work. what if.. if what? the car has a security function. when you hit the control device once, only the driver's door unlocks. did i hit the button only once? why did i not put the large empty bowl on the back seat as usual? the road seemed endless. after a while, i got a hold on the first rational explanation> the trees have leaves now! I did not drive this road for two weeks. that's why it looks so enclosed, that why it enhances my fear. Did i really hear a strange noise?  - an eternity later, I reached 66. houses on the road side, dimmed light. my breathing calmed down, and I stopped speeding. I was home. safe. but the panic / fear attack had been so severe that it still lingered in my system. i turned all the lights on in the house, checked all rooms, opened all doors - except the one to the basement. somehow i managed to ignore the rising thoughts of basement terror. i poured myself a glass of wine. sat down. calmed down.

finally, I got up again and stepped outside. I looked up at the stars - I was safe again.

I had this 'crazy' thought this morning that my house is my Sanatorium. That it is the place i have chosen to heal from the craziness of the past, from the craziness within me. That it might be the place where i will find myself. it is a place outside of time. the daily madness of city life is far away. the magic of nature - in every aspect - is healing. truth arises. it is a place far away from judgement, from expectations, from the competitiveness of our lives.

i can fully understand why people retreat to cloisters, ashrams or temples. there must be a reason why drugs, pills and alcohol are on the rise. the outside world and  the  inside world don't match up anymore. the tempo is faster. 

i sometimes fear that I will be punished for this 'time-out' here. for having the luxury of this beautiful place,  the luxury of writing and planting, of seeing flowers grow and clouds travel. but the concept of 'punishment' is a very harsh approach to life. it embraces the idea of right and wrong. of 'musts' versus 'wants'. of 'deserving' and 'earning' versus ' receiving'... I wonder how and when these thoughts entered my mind.... ages ago... . 'you don't deserve this', 'you must', 'you should', 'you have to', 'get serious', 'get real', 'get out'... chants that are repeated over and over again.. .

i hear them more clearly here. in the stillness i can feel the weight of the words. the power of destruction they carry within them. there are other words - courage, softness, creativity, tenderness, bravery, curiosity, eagerness, energy, trust, support -  which carry completely different tonality and weight. sometimes it as simple as this - changing a word can lift the spirit and alter the 'mood'. Why are we all running through life? 

this morning the clouds were puffy little cotton balls flying through the sky. a few hours later, the sun burned them away and only some faint white strips were left in the fare distance. the lilac is still blooming and the smell is beautiful. If i open the windows next to the lilac bushes, the entire room and eventually the house carry the scent, soothing and comforting. it's a beautiful time of year. a month ago hardly any leaves or flowers could be spotted and now nature is showing an abundance of colors. the change is coming so rapidly that it is impossible to grasp it. all there is is to enjoy the glory of it. It is this marvelous time of year when i can't wait to step out of the house and into the bright sunshine. the warm fresh air seems to embrace me. it doesn't matter that during the night bad dreams full of anxiety visited me. the moment I step outside, all of it vanishes and with each breath new energy runs through my veins. nature really heals, it breaks the spell of endless repetitive thought patterns, and it allows new ideas to enter my mind. All i need to do is to step outside - step outside of myself...

time capsule

6.20 am is already too late.

6.00 am would be too late as well.

the list of daily to-do's grows and grows and i find myself sitting at the desk trying to structure the day. 

"if this takes 30 minutes and this eats up an hour and this another hour and if i rush this and add another 2 hours for this, plus the time to get there and back, plus lunch and dinner, and if I  still haven't factored in this, yet this already totals in .....". there is not enough time. period. there will never be enough unless  I shorten my list, which seems impossible, because each to-do-item is very precious and for every one i give up there is a replacement waiting to be added to the queue. my mind goes ballistic.. this morning, during one of my 'how-can-I-organize-today moments' i had this idea. What if I start a little time booklet? yes, doing this means adding another activity to the long list. yet i am very curious about how time is really spent during a day. how long do certain activities really take.  which activities use up junks of time without my realizing it.  for example, reading the news online, emailing, getting ready for the day.  maybe more to-do's were pushed into the stream of today's 'items to accomplishments' without my being aware of it? how much time is left for joy and for presence? how much time is used up thinking, lost in day dreaming, or worrying about certain things. how much time is eaten up by resisting  'must-do's'?  it might be a worthwhile experiment. at least it cuts out the time to estimate time - for now. and it might be an interesting mirror of one's habits. and it might be even fun. One. Two.GO.

7.54 am

the morning mist is slowly melting away.

a gorgeous day is unfolding and soon i will be gone.

life has it's own rhythm and i don't get the rhyme.

two people walked along the beach. i can see their foot steps. i did not see the people themselves. the foot steps are the only reference to their walk, to their presence on this beach. it's a beautiful long white sandy beach and i wonder what their conversation was about or if they talked at all. were they good friends, were they lovers, what brought them to this beach and where did they go? foot steps in sand are fragile. when the tide rolls in they will be washed away and nothing will remind of their walk anymore. I can still see them, i see them melt together at the horizon and the story of their walk is unfolding in my thoughts.. the vast emptiness of the ocean carries many stories, i suppose and they will all be washed away eventually. does it matter? no, i suppose not. but i love to have a glimpse of a story untold.

the grey sky lingers. the ocean is tinted a dull color. the winds are milder. the rain is still around. the beaches are empty and the temperatures are on the cold side. gloves, warm jackets, shawls. I tell myself that my powers are not strong enough to influence weather patterns. I tell myself that, regardless of the cold humid air, the sound of the ocean is still marvelous. Every day it gets harder to ignore or 'overlook' the cold and the rain. I can feel disappointment and frustration crawling into my thoughts. i feel lonely. the evening rain shuts me down. I was sitting on the wet sand banks yesterday, eyes closed, listening. this morning i hear only the rattling sound of a server. the morning coffee gets cold. Today I will walk on the beach again. regardless. 

I'm a 'structure' girl. i love them. Structures in any possible way, in the broadest meaning. Structure in the sense of order, of function, of smooth operations...

piles of paper filed away, garden tools placed on the garage wall in a neat way, herbs in the kitchen nicely arranged, a table decorated for dinner, a house full of Christmas flair, a work station functional and clean, a suitcase well packed, a car equipped with all 'essential tools', food well stored in the fridge. i love magazine's about homes, i love furniture stores, i love accessories, i love design. i never get enough. i love structure

structures give me a sense of security, a sense of control, a sense of mastery. the way a gift is wrapped can become more important than the item itself, the clean workspace more than the work. in other words, i edit before i create. my editing is very creative. it is even unique. I'm a creative editor who loves structure. i believe in my ability to structure. it is safe and it is fun too. it is a gift to be able to edit, to organize, to structure chaos.

Recently i began longing for pure creation. for the flow of thoughts and ideas. 

i want to put the process of structuring aside - at least for a minute, an hour, an afternoon.

this safe haven will not disappear - this what I tell myself, while setting the sails.

it rains. it rained all day yesterday. it is said that nature needs rain, that plants and trees were waiting for the water, thirsty and needy. 

water is life. fine. i want sunshine - now.

the grey clouds cover the sky and all spring colors look muted. it rains. I'm near the ocean. i can't hear it. everything has a sound. the rain does, certainly. the ocean does. and apparently so do rocks. the sound of the universe. imagine hearing all sounds of all objects. it must be deafening. or maybe not. maybe it is a revelation. 

it rains and the falling water drops are absorbed by the earth, are repelled by the car roofs and by the paved streets. i can hear the wind in the crowns of the trees. i cannot hear the ocean yet. i hear the rattling sound of machines, the clicking sound of key boards. i can hear my own breath. rain is sound, too. it's a beautiful sound. i wonder how the shafts of sunlight sound.

ground cover.

it covers the ground and it blooms beautifully in early spring.

i pulled most of it out. last year, 

not knowing how beautiful it would be and how essential ground cover is. its leaves stay green all year round. it helps protect the bed from weeds. it blooms. it meanders. it is a wonderful plant.

ground cover.

'trust your inner voice' , 'trust your intuition'. i have heard it, I've been told so, i have read about it. listening is the first step, trusting it is the second step and following  - which is the one I have the most problems with - is the third  step. I trust the voice if it calls for small actions in daily life. I can listen and i can follow through. but if this voice recommends action on a bigger scale it becomes a totally different story. I get desperate for reassurance because there is no point of reference, there is no comparison, there is no control. very often, its advise seems irrational,  it seems even 'counter productive ' for my life's set up -  if  judged by my mind. 

here is what i do when i hear the voices advise: i start asking others about it. I get my family involved, my friends and even acquaintances... the more opinions i can gather the merrier.. only to be left more confused.. there is no 'right' or 'wrong'. there is only the 'doing' or 'not doing'. it is as simple as that. but there is lots of time spent trying to set up rehearsals for the action. yet there are no rehearsals, it is always opening night. every time. 

maybe deep inside i do not trust that voice.. maybe it just seems like it.. because following that inner voice on a very small scale does not create any risk, does not call for any risk taking. So i do act upon it and yet i don't, because the 'outcome' does not really matter that much to me. 

this voice leads into the unknown. it opens doors and wants me to walk through them. i shut them time and again. i don't trust that voice - and - I'm afraid. that's what it comes down to.

very interesting. now, what if... ??