The apple tree in my sock’s drawer

IMG_1168 retusj golden hills2“Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.”
Martin Luther

I used to think Martin Luther was quite silly and irresponsible to say so. Come on, a minister! Shouldn’t he be comforting, evangelizing or praying if he really knew this was the last day?

Then I thought he was stubborn. Really how arrogant can you be? As if he said, I do not care what you say will happen, I dare you to challenge my priorities!

Nowadays I regard Martin Luther as I do Sam in the Lord Of the Rings. As the real hero. Motivated by life, not by the forces that threatens it. When Frodo get’s all puffed up by the importance of his task, he is tempted to yield to the power of  the Ring. The big political issues and the possible powers clouds his mind. The ring entangles his thoughts so that in the end he is not able to perform the simple task that should complete the excruciating journey to the top of Mount Doom. The true hero is Sam. His life is what he wants it to be, his motivation is to keep it that way. He is not fighting Sauron, he is clearing away the forces that will ruin what he loves and keep him from his loved ones.

When life get’s entangled, the aim is always to get back to the life we want The other tools help us remember that, to sort out, to fight, to prioritize, to list. To make room for what is true and to cherish that.
I think Martin Luther tells me that if my task is to plant an apple tree, it is not a prosaic unimportant task, it is why I am here. I am also challenged. As I will never know when my world will end, if what I do is worth doing it should be worth doing every day, to the end.

So I keep de-cluttering, I keep sorting my socks, I keep trying to be organized. Never as it was life itself, always because I need to be able to find my spade when planting trees, because that could be why I am here.

In November I take part in the NaBloPoMo,  in the BlogHer network. I post every day on “The Untangling Tens” what women do when life gets tangled. These are the ten tools that worked for those I have asked, what are yours?

All pictures in this blog are taken by me, Solveig Mjolsnes.

There is no time for killing trolls

Kick sleds for kick starts

Kick sleds for kick starts

The time is never right for killing trolls, my great-grandmother used to say, even so they had to be killed.
I think she wanted us to learn that we might as well get the unpleasant chores over with. There was no use waiting for the right mood neither for doing the dishes nor our homework.
Life is more complicated though, the trolls does not only come to stay, they gang up on us. We all know that, no crisis arrives alone. Very seldom are we allowed the luxury of dealing with one difficulty at the time. Most often they are all entangled in each other and becomes the many-headed troll in the norse fairy tales.
The only funny thing about it is that it surprises us.
Even stranger is the fact that the most entangling times are the ones that return at the same time every year and still we are not prepared.
Well how prepared could you be? I remember one day weeks before Christmas a neighbor came sailing at her usual speed into the store where we were waiting in line. “That’s that then” she proclaimed, and continued “The tree is done, the food is ready, the gifts are wrapped, I am all set.” She looked triumphantly at us slackers. The shop-keeper was not impressed “why not do Easter while you are at it?”

She probably considered it a good idea. At least that is how most of us live, always preparing for the future, doing so much work to avoid tangles later. The thing is though that no matter what we prepare for we are not sages and what we visualize is an ideal event, which is not always what happens. We plan as if the Christmas dinner is the only thing in life that week, and seem to forget life itself. I know. This is one of the basics I have learned through a life of lists.

Just too much?

Just too much?

If I can not be prepared for everything that will happen, why not prepare for the things I know will come? Isn’t that a contradiction? To me it isn’t. It is all about using my energy on getting the basic routines to function.
One of them is food. As we know there will be trolls to kill, even at the happiest of times. We also know that the strength to do that will not come from party food or appetizers. No matter how well-coordinated they are to the given holiday. And even if they have to do, they will not do if the person who is exhausted by making them also is supposed to be the troll-slayer.

So these are my not-so-secret tools for being a happy hostess, as ready to handle tangles and trolls as possible:

1. Know, plan and stock up on the healthy basics everybody, and most of all you, needs to function.
For me? If I have whole-wheat bread, coffee,granola and yoghurt, orange juice and eggs, I am in luxury heaven. Without, I am sluggish and tired no matter how many croissants or left over turkey-sandwiches I am offered. All those items can be bought now and stored.

2. Be prepared for life to continue as usual.
Why should anyone have to rush out for detergent, toilet paper or tooth paste on the night before Christmas?
3. Kill of the small trolls ahead of time.
Do it at once. Schedule bills to be paid, arrange for flowers to be delivered, order and pick up tickets now.
4. Weed out the really tiny troll sprouts today, and they will not have time to grow before Thanksgiving or Christmas.
What is that? Could be to check, replace and stock on light bulbs all over your house. Count towels and plates and all the other stuff you will need, restock.
5.Know your plans and obligations, more is not merrier. Back out now if you have too much, so that they will have time to find replacements.
6. Make room.
Holidays fill your home with stuff. It needs places to go. If a total declutter event is too much, clear or toss an item every time you wait for something. When decorating, do the spots that are not in regular use, life needs space too!

7. Remember, all holidays are made to make us cherish, remember and celebrate what is important to us, our family, our culture or the faith we belong to. How would I prepare a holiday  that made that true, still?

Trees inside? Perfect for hiding.

Trees inside? Perfect for hiding.

In November I take part in the NaBloPoMo,  in the BlogHer network. I post every day on “The Untangling Tens” what women do when life gets tangled. These are the ten tools that worked for those I have asked, what are yours?

All pictures in this blog are taken by me, Solveig Mjolsnes.

Lazy mind, beating heart

IMG_1261 solnedgang1Totally spoiled, I know, but that is how it is to belong to the privileged part of the world. The thing is, I have a personal valet. He follows close behind me wherever I go. He is in charge of my appointments and my bank accounts, he maps out the route when I am going somewhere, he even wakes me in the morning. If I feel creative he has most of my pictures and music in his archives and retrieves them for me to play with. Actually he knows everything that goes on in this household.

Then, on thursday night, he was kidnapped. One minute he was there, the next he was gone. I did not realize it until hours later, and panicked. Could we really trust him or would he share everything he knew with his captors? I immediately went out to look for him, no luck. I did not sleep well that night.

Early friday morning I went back to all the places I had been the day before, talked to people, emailed others, left my contact information, looked and asked, searched for clues. Nowhere. I went home to inform the police and the company where I got him. First I had to vacuum and prepare for the guest that were coming though.

And there he was. Mr. Android Samsung himself, hiding under the seat cushions in the couch, camouflaged in his black leather gear in the black leather sofa, safely asleep, out of battery with the sound turned off.

There is not much you can do to avoid your valets to take this vacations. For now, mine has got some tracking devices and stuff, and then I’ll see if he improve, I do not really feel I can trust him anymore.

IMG_1253 blå timeFrom the untangling point of view I am worried though. I really did not like the way I reacted when he was gone, stressed out and totally unable to concentrate. What is this? Could it be that I have allowed my self to be too dependent on external memory? A part of the problem is having some valets of the Android family and some Apples, that absolutely do not talk to each other. The main problem, I think, is the way I store everything as if it was of equal importance, everything jumbled together. Which in turn makes me dependent on the memory, battery and compability of these devices for everything. What then of the few important bits of information that I could need when the electricity is gone, or my phone is lost or there is no coverage? Could it be an idea just to write it down on an index card? Trusting a valet that can disappear in a sofa, how silly is that?

In November I take part in the NaBloPoMo,  in the BlogHer network. I post every day on “The Untangling Tens” what women do when life gets tangled. These are the ten tools that worked for those I have asked, what are yours?

All pictures in this blog are taken by me, Solveig Mjolsnes. Today’s pictures is from the calming walk at Summerland beach after I found my phone.

The worry dolls- an untangling post on sleeping

The pictures were taken, finally

The pictures were taken, finally

Just to make everything “easy” on ourselves we had scheduled an outdoor photo session for the whole family, in the same week that we were painting our house. If you really think that sounds easy you have to consider that the location was in Trondheim, in august, when it normally rains. We were all to be pictured in our national costumes which takes time to put on. Then our housepainter had left the job half done, as it was impossible to finish it when it was raining all the time. Our garden was ruined by the big scaffolding he had left in our flower beds the whole wet summer, and of course, the house had to be painted, impossible or not. Which meant the job was going to be an involuntary character-building exercise for the whole family.

At times like this, when I feel the day really does not have enough hours, when I really need to sleep to be able to do anything- then I feel like I am hovering in the air above the bed, never able to sink into the refreshing sleep that I need. It is not that the tasks are impossible, I just keep going over my game plans, rearranging and thinking it through. Never quite believing that it will all add up to a day well spent, which is my goal everyday.

So it kept raining, every time it stopped we ran out to paint. The deal was that the photographer should also call the next time it did not rain and she was able to make it. Just to complicate it all, we wanted the shots to be taken in the woods, not near her studio. The first time she called we were able to change from overalls to national costumes and be at the spot in two hours. We arrived  just as the photographer came, and just as it started to rain again. We waited for a while, overcast is actually a very good light for portraits, but not rainstorms. No luck. The next day we were quicker, even so I had to do some extra breathing exercises to look as if if strolling through the woods in my best finery was my favorite pass time, any day. We managed, she got great pictures. The kids cooperated on the experimental shots she wanted to do for an exhibition, we all were happy, but quite worn out. Not she though, she was just laughing.

The day I picked up the pictures had also been hectic, she was still calm while she talked to the customer in front of me. Then I saw that she had a bowl with tiny woven dolls on her desk. They did not look neither as toys or collectibles, I had to ask, “what’s the thing with the dolls?”
“Oh, them, they take care of my worries so I don’t forget them,'” she said,” It is my Mexican worry dolls, at night I tell a worry to each of them, then I put them in a small bag, and stuff it under my pillow. It is very relaxing, I never worry that I forget to worry about the things I should be worried about anymore!”

To me that’s often it, to be able to sleep I have to know that my worries are taken care of. It works to write a list. It also works to mention each in a prayer, often prayer is just that. It is not God that needs to be reminded of all the things we are worried about, it is I who need the reminder that he knows. The dolls were cute though, and they never loose a worry.

In November I take part in the NaNoBloMo not the BlogHer network. I post every day on “The Untangling Tens” what women do when life gets tangled. These are the ten tools that worked for those I have asked, what are yours?

All pictures in this blog are taken by me, Solveig Mjolsnes.

The table of fellowship- an untangling post on eating

IMG_0860lagunaIt is not always the big problems that weighs me down. The saying “don’t sweat the small stuff” do not really take into account that a bag filled with pebbles is as heavy as the same bag filled with one stone. Actually, if it is only one stone, it is easy to spot. It is easy to ask for help heaving it out of the bag, and it is easy to have everyone understand that this stone is too heavy to carry. So a pebble called “make reservations” or ‘file these bills”  looks like tasks one should be able to handle, and definitely not ones that calls for sympathy. Even so, life’s tangles are often made up of countless simple tasks that can not be bundled or done in a logical sequence. When done there is no value added, nothing has been produced. The only effect is that chaos has been avoided one more day so that hopefully, tomorrow will be the day when the big stuff can be done.

I know, prioritize, delegate, sort and simplify. Yes, I do that. Even so, some days ago, I was quite unexpectedly blue and sad. All those mundane tasks had became too much and threatened to make me feel nothing I did was worth doing. As it filled my whole week, the next thought could be, nothing I ever did was worth doing. I left my pebbles on our bed though, quite literally. The bed is the best place to sort all those piles, and I had done that, I just had to do what each pile of papers asked for. Resolutely I paper clipped each pile with a note on top on what it was all about. Then I went out. Instead of skipping lunch to get it all done, I biked over to the university and joined my husband for lunch. Not even an hour, no deep conversation, just a burger, just belonging.

Almost every day now I get mail from different charities that are setting up Thanksgiving dinners for the lonely and homeless. Surprisingly small amounts will make them able to supply the traditional meal. In Norway Christmas Eve is the night most people fear to spend alone. Again it is not enough to set up a place, the essence is to sit down at a table, together and to have the expected food. If you say, I was alone at Christmas, everyone else will feel guilty that they did not invite you.

It is so much more than a meal, it is about belonging.
At home, my husband and me often feel the need to call our kids when we are having a meal, that is when we miss them most. When friends come over we want to feed them, or at least give them something to drink.
In both Christianity and Judaism the meal is a sacred place for fellowship. The food itself takes on a ritual character even if it is not very advanced or costly food, bread and wine, the basics.

This weekend we will have dear friends to stay. Even if there are lots of things to do and places we could go, what we look forward to most is the long meals with the long conversations. Time to dwell, together.

Why? My unscientific opinion is that when we take time to eat together, to share the resources and not fight over them, to allow each of us the same position around the table, we know deep in our soul that we belong together. We will meet diversities and problems as a unit, not as individuals. A shared meal tells us, we are not alone.

IMG_3634 picnicSo should the untangling tool be to set up a big dinner or plan a family reunion? Would not that just add another thread in your tangle? It would. You need people though!
I just talked to a woman who is mentor to students that need extra encouragement. What did she do? Meet them for ice-cream, and let them talk. Could you do that? Just text a friend and meet for coffee, soon? You do not need to mention your problems, you do not need to ask for advice, what you do need, is to know that we are meant to be in this life together. Or could you offer that to someone else? It is all about fellowship, to know that neither of us should have to be alone. Your tangle will not disappear. Your life will not get less complicated. If you are lucky you will get another perspective on it all, you will get a reminder of what is important to you. If you are really blessed you will have been able to laugh together and tell each other, this too will pass.

In November I take part in the NaNoBloMo not the BlogHer network. I post every day on “The Untangling Tens” what women do when life gets tangled. These are the ten tools that worked for those I have asked, what are yours?

All pictures in this blog are taken by me, Solveig Mjolsnes. These are from the Laguna at the UCSB and from the traditional 17.May picnic for Norwegian Americans.

Best of friends – an untangling post on eating

IMG_7201 false comfort Do you eat when something is troubling you? Why is it that most of us would have difficulty admitting that? Somewhere along the road we managed to add guilt to the basic need of eating. To eat food for comfort is for many of us equalled to eating junk food, to not being in control of our lives, to suffocate our real longings with unhealthy cravings. On the other hand comfort is good and food is necessary, so what if we could enjoy the fact that life’s necessities could be a comfort? Are we perhaps not taking the time to understand what really comforts us?

IMG_7204 trueThe woman in my office that fall morning was crying. This was her third visit. I knew her story, out of work, old, almost out of hope. She had told me of her usual tools to get back on track. She would go for long walks and she would sort her priorities. She would go to bed early and she had talked to all her friends. Still her tangles was worse, she did not see how to go on. As I looked closer on her, I saw that she was trembling. Did you drive her, I asked. No I am too tired to drive, she said. I  suggested we stopped looking for solutions for a while, perhaps we had jumped into the surgery without doing the first aid, what could we do now, just to give her strength?

I poured her a cup of tea and pushed the tray of biscuits over. She did not touch them.
“Do you eat?” I asked.”How could I,” she retorted,” if I got fat nobody would hire me! ”

As she was neither fat nor thin, this was a field that I had not thought would be essential to tackle. I realized I had been wrong. Until she was able to love, accept and cherish herself, her tangle would be a mess even when she got a new job. I am not an expert on eating disorders, but as our psychiatrist was out-of-town, I wanted to give her just a small tool, to tidy her over until she could have another appointment.

“Let us forget about your troubles, just for a moment, while you are having your tea,” I continued. “If your best friend came to you and was exhausted, what would you do?”

“I would let her sit with her feet up, give her a blanket and go make a bowl of creamy soup,” she did not have to think long about her answer. “My grandmother used to do that, she always made food that was healthy and good tasting, we all felt that she loved us through that food. But then she died and my mother never did that to me” she said. We talked for a while on how it was to miss her grandmother. We talked even more on how she missed a mother that never mothered her.
“So who is the grown up in your life now,” I wondered.
She just sighed, “it is just me I guess.”

We were silent together as she was realizing that she was responsible for her own comfort.
“How should I do that,” she mumbled. She already knew the truth, and together we put it into words, as an exercise for the next week.

“This week I will be my own best friend and serve myself comforting and nourishing food” she decided.
She left me and is now in therapy. I met her on the street the other day though, looking healthier and happier than I  ever saw her before. ” I think I could be the best-of-friends and the best mother there is,”  she told me and smiled.

My list of Untangling Tens

When life get’s tangled… the untangling project.IMG_6914 do nothing

 

1.Do nothing
2. Walk

IMG_4056 sleep3. Sleep
4. Eat

IMG_5545 light a candle5. Light a candle
6. Give thanks

IMG_5503 organize7. Make a list
8. Organize

IMG_0997 call a friend9. Call a friend

10. StartIMG_3124 start

The beginner’s guide to jealousy

20130803-132548.jpg

If I was really jealous, and still had a friend, I would write her a letter to let her in on the secrets of jealousy, it would not be anonymous though! 

I’ll share it with you, there are a lot of tricks to be learned! 

Jealousy is a prickly weed that goes well in a bouquet of envy, greed, ungratefulness and ignorance. You may chose to make this arrangement as a wreath on your front door, place it on your dinner table, or best of all craft it into a small buttonhole nose gay. You need to make only one, as it will sprout, grow and cling to every human you approach. 

It is so easy to care for, every resentment and snide you ever utter will make it grow, you do not even have to think about it! It just takes some small adjustments in your daily routine. 

 First, every time you smile and start to enjoy yourself, stop and tell yourself that what you have is actually much less than you are entitled too. 

Second, if you should feel the slightest inclination to be happy when a friend achieves something, remember to tell yourself how much better you would have done given her opportunities.
If you ever have leisure time always find something to do that you think somebody else should have done. 

Above all, always remember never to give anything away, always compare and keep complaining. 

If you succeed you will be able to establish a thriving jealously patch in your home and your workplace, that will be felt by everyone around you.
Just by practicing a little every day you will soon be the most jealous, grumpy, miserable, friendless person you will ever know. 

You will not realize that this is you though, as you will cling to the fact that there is a lovelier, richer, nicer you somewhere if you only got what’s meant to be yours.
Keep practicing, or you’ll just have to enjoy life.

20130803-134843.jpg

Listless is clueless

Mad Hatter Teaparty

Mad Hatter Teaparty

I was having some girl friends over, and some of us had quite a lot on our plates just then. You know that middle age means being in the middle of all ages did you not? There were parents, spouses, kids, grandchildren, obligations and careers, and we were in the middle of it all, comforting, helping, advising and supporting. We got to talking about how we tackled stress, and how we sorted our priorities. No one surprised the others by saying she made a list, because we all do that.

Too much to consider

Too much to consider

The interesting part is how we make different lists and how we make lists differently. One of my friends said the trick was to make a narrow list, just wide enough for a single item, that would convince her that one step at a time would guide her through her day, and it would. My mother used to go to the other extreme, the bigger sheet of paper the better. She would make columns for each hour of the day, allot tasks to each hour, and then force ahead, being sure that if nothing happened it would be possible to achieve it all.

Too much on you plate...

Too much on you plate…

Then of course, as most of the elements on her lists were living creatures who did not know that we were committed to paper, she was always behind her schedule. She found it comforting to know though that life was the messy part, not her planning. To me all sorts of lists are basic survival tools. My head is always filled to the brim with ideas, plans, projects, dreams and pictures. I can handle that, what makes me reach for my notepad is when worries are trying to take over.

Just one task at the time

Just one task at the time

If I think I really have too much to do, I use a list to tell me it is not true.To me list making is a way of making sure that the pieces of my life’s puzzle will fit together and make a beautiful picture in the end. I jot down every thought that comes to mind, not categorizing or sorting, just everything. Like emptying the puzzle box on a big table. The rationale is that if it is crowding my head it needs to get out so I can see what it is all about. Normally it takes only a couple of minutes to know that whats left in my head might stay where it is.

They do not really care about the fuzz

They do not really care about the fuzz

Then I start sorting. Normally the categories would be family and friends, work and church. These are the corners holding my picture together. Then of course there will be different projects to do and to remember. The surprise that always elevates me is that is normally boils down to the small details of the big picture. Thinking it over, having a look at the pieces that want to be in my picture I can confer with the picture on the box of the puzzle and say, sorry you do not belong, or I can turn it over and say, this piece goes with the border, so let’s just keep it out of the middle for a while.

Let's get to work

Let’s get to work

Doing this I also discover that life is just like the old jigsaw puzzles at our cabin. Someone has been lazy when sorting the pieces. Mostly you will discover that by emptying the box. As in life, I can easily  spot and remove the big, clumsy pieces that clearly not belong.

One big picture

One big picture

It get’s tricky though, sometimes you can make a piece from another box fit. Not quite, but almost. That is when I get stressed, that is when I sense something is wrong, when I try to fit something into my life because somebody has dumped it into my box. As I get older, I am learning. Doing what others should do is not taking responsibility, it is robbing someone else of the blessings to being allowed to  walk in the work prepared for them.

Different tasks

Different tasks

Of course, when nobody is shouldering the task, when there is a real emergency, that is something else. If not, I have learned it is wise to just wait it out, sorting through my pieces once more. Resting in the blessing that I will have time for what I am called to do, quietly putting the other pieces back where they belong.

First things first, as pigs see it

First things first, as pigs see it

The pictures are from the County Fair this weekend. Busy, teeming with life, everybody concentrating on their own tasks.

Teamwork

Teamwork

It is not my story – writing challenge on what I never would tell

IMG_0196 heart of heartsWhen I saw the picture of those two chefs in this weeks writing challenge I knew at once what the story was. It would not be fiction though, as it is one of my treasured memories. An impromptu wedding in an alpine flower field. A poetic wedding service with towering, snow-clad swiss alps as backdrop. A glowing bride walking up to the improvised altar while the wind played with her veil and someone played a joyful tune on a wooden flute. Leading up to this was only two days of preparing, an unprecedented whirl of activity. There was not much money, but everyone had searched their hearts and mind to find what they could contribute. Those two chefs, who never had worked together before, were able to  create a colorful and well tasting feast from meagre ingredients. One girl knew how to give a massage and went through the preparing crowds easing the strain, some of us picked wild flowers, some were scrubbing floors or doing laundry to prepare for guests. The strongest carried tables and chairs from all the village to the biggest lawn.

Setting of another marvellous wedding

Setting of another marvellous wedding

Then, this is what I saw, and what I took part in, which would only be romantic, not fabulous if it were not for the rest of the story. Why this haste? Who were married? When was this? Did they live happily forever after? I know only part of those answers, I have no way to check up on what I do not know, and I know that if I write more, someone could recognize this setting and be hurt if I did not tell the story right. I know what version I have of the truth, and that is enough to know that the rest is not my story to tell. To me that goes with all blogging and writing, knowing what to tell and what to keep. If I was listening to someone sharing their troubles or joys in confidence, I would not open the windows and shout into the streets, listen to this great story! Even when I took part in the story, only my part is the one to share. You would have loved to be in that wedding though, and then we could have shared our memories of the probably most glorious romantic story we ever witnessed. As it is, it’s up to you to imagine!