Category Archives: travel

Dreamscape

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Our house was getting too small.
Or our lives were too crowded. We were to busy to do anything about it. I was not able to go to sleep, tossing and turning, worrying and thinking. When I finally drifted into a troubled dream it suddenly all made sense. I had just dreamt that we had an extra room that we did not know anything about. I felt calm, relaxed and happy and slept soundly the rest of the night. The next morning I was halfway down the stairs, going to open the door to that new room, before I realized how impossible that would be in a house that we had built ourselves.

I still knew the dream to be true though, I just was waiting to understand how. 

I prayed and waited, thought and wondered. 

For several weeks I did not understand the answer, even if I got one clue after another.

 I was asked to write some texts. I was asked to design some book covers. I was asked to do some creative sewing projects. I had some paintings framed, and sold them. I was asked to sit on a board. 

Not out of the blue, I had always done these things, I had just not known that I had to do them. 

Now I know, I am happy only if I create something. 

Not necessarily things, even peace has to be made. That is how I regard counseling, coaching and board work. To create in these settings is to visualize and to make a setting where reflection is possible.

My soul told me that it was not really the physical space that was too crowded.My whole family was suffering because I had acted as there was no place for my soul. 

Now I know the dream was true, now I know it is up to me to make it possible.

Mrs. Knowitall has coffee

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 I try to be kind, I really do. Too often only in a passive ‘ doasyouwouldbedonetoo’ way, for instance I do not publish or comment pictures of unknown people without their consent, as I would hate people doing that to me! I can not help myself listening, watching and constantly making up stories though. This is how my morning went today.

We had just had breakfast, and I ventured out for a cappuchino. Even if it was 110 degrees outside, parts of the piazza was still in shadows and I settled in at my favorite table. From here I can see the canal, the campanile, the bridge and the gondolas. This week there are masks all over for the carnevale. I can hear the bells ringing every hour, and enjoy the opera from the loudspeaker at the coffee shop. What I can not see is the view behind me where the canal continues into the old Venice.

Except it is all fake. This Venice is in Las Vegas, and I am enjoying my coffee time while my husband is working. ‘The old Venice’ is painted on the  wall and the rest is fairly well staged, to put it that way. Even if it is not real though, like the real thing, it is still real like in real stones, real mortar and really beautiful…..sometimes. Anyways, I enjoy watching people as they stroll, wander, run and saunter on the bridge. 

As I was getting seated today a grown up couple in matching outfits stopped on the bridge. Well pressed in white, beige,black and brown, but oh so worried! She consulted her guidebook, he his phone, and both oracles informed them that they were lost, so they hurried on, without a glance at the scenery.

 They almost collided with a round, eager woman who ran up on the bridge. Her yellow and red dress was fluttering behind her, and her husband followed quietly in her wake. They both wore flip flops and red sunglasses and she leaned on the bridge railing while laughing at her husband: ‘picture!’ He smiled back and took her picture, just in time before she went along.

Then the bridge lies silently in the scorching sun until a young, slim girl in a white designer’s dress glides up and poses at the railing. She wears a big white hat which her matching boyfriend leans over and adjusts. He looks critically at her, takes up his phone and she turns on a glittering smile for the benefit of the camera. Then they glide on, obviously part of each others stage set.

Just as I am writing this a big, laughing Spanish speaking dad shouts at his wife and kids, ” come here” Mira,Mira! They all stand with him at the bridge, point at the fake view, takes pictures with their phones and shouts: “it almost fooled me! It is all fake!” Then the youngest goes,” the water is real, isn’t it?” and they laugh even more as they continue on the other side.

The next one is a Japanese girl dressed like a doll. She pouts at her phone and takes a picture of herself. A little apart her boyfriend looks into his phone and does the same. As they check their results, a curlyheaded cherub stops at the bridge. He listens open-mouthed as the bells ring. When they finish he is so full of energy that he hauls himself up on the railings, almost fall off, and jumps down again. While he has been enjoying himself his parents are conducting a frantic search in the buggy of the youngest one. They find their cell phone, grabs the boy and continues, without looking at the bridge at all.

Then I admire the yellow dress of a beautiful older lady. She seems alone, but then she shouts at her husband ‘get my picture, hon!’ He keeps reading his paper and she asks a passerby instead. She poses, smiles, with her mouth turned down.

Just as I am leaving, a bride and a groom takes their stand on the bridge. They are followed by a hired photographer. They lean together and are so sweet, enjoying the moment, but the photographer shouts: ‘ move on, one shot at each spot!’

That’s it, I think, as I move on too. Only one shot, in one spot, even so I have been moved, irritated, angered and felt joy over the stories I read into that moments. Walking along I realize that most of those scenes could have been from my own life. The only difference being that my automatic judgement over each of them would not decribe how I feel about my life as a whole. Another reminder that even if the moments can be recorded, seen, counted and journaled, life itself escapes indexing.

Wisdom and knowledge- a dailypost on mastery

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IMG_1532 land i sikte

Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

This is among my favorite quotes from T.S. Eliot. Even if I really am curious about almost everything, I did not think I was going to do any other exams in my whole life. There is a time for everything.  I thought the time was come for applying my knowledge, let it merge with my experiences, reflect upon it and mature into wisdom.

Not anymore!

Not anymore!

Then we moved to California. I bike along the not so quiet Pacific every day, marvelling at the view, and my wanderlust paired up with my curiosity, wouldn’t it be fun to sail over those waves? I could have lived with the dream, but my husband seized the opportunity to get his Country Girl join him on the seas. Now we’re in the middle of the first course, the exam is tomorrow, and my brain is crowded with all those words that I honestly did not think anyone was using anymore. “Helms-alee” and “ready about” for instance.

P1020743 st[ kursWhat I do find that learning a new skill, just for fun, helps me see new aspects of everything I thought I knew. For me, it releases creativity and reflection, and do make me wiser. While I will never be a master sailor, I know that just using my brain, my hands and my body in new settings enriches my life and helps me living it to the full. To me learning is not about amassing theoretical knowledge anymore, it is all about getting to see more and more pieces of the wonderful puzzle called life.IMG_1190 b;lge

My dream home

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Building a nest.

Building a nest.

It was a rainy, cold sunday afternoon, one of many in a rainy, cold summer. We would have loved to curl up with a book and a cup of coffee. Our children were running wild though, back and forth in the living room, having so much pent-up energy. We just looked at them and each other, and went for our rain gear. Come on, we are going for a walk, in the woods! They were jumping and running in front of us for a little while, then they stopped and walked very silently close to us. What’s the matter with you guys? You may jump and shout as much as you like here, why are you so timid? The youngest looked up at us, with eyes that said “you do not really understand much, do you?” then he explained it all to us. “You know, when I am at home the world is this big and I can run everywhere” he said and stretched his small arms in front of him. ” But when I am outside” he continued, and crossed his arms in front of him and made himself even smaller ” when I am outside the world stops just here”, he said and wiggled his little finger in the crook of his arms. His words ring in my heart whenever I get too ambitious in any homemaking projects. Building a dream home means nothing if it does not make its inhabitants able to call the world their home. Building my dream home is done by nourishing and supporting everything in myself, my husband, our children and our guests that make us feel happy, content, safe and also daring, confident and able to be at home wherever and with whoever.

I love flights of fancy, I do dream of beautiful homes and wonderful settings. I do spend lots of time making our houses lovely and welcoming. But most of all I dream of a world where all of us, no matter who we are or where we live, may safely and happily go out into the world, jump and shout for joy, and know, I am at home. I think I already won that lottery, I am building my dream home, every day.

To go and to be – a daily post on going

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IMG_2407 lonely treeI get to travel a lot. Both through work and for leisure. Even when we technically already are on a travel, we go somewhere else, to see, to explore, to understand and to take photos  of course. Even so there are more places I have not visited, than places I’ve been, which is totally OK. I do not really have an urge to travel.

IMG_2652 mapsWhat I would love to do though is getting even braver at talking to people where I go. When we are driving, even on roads at home which I know so well, I catch myself looking into windows, wondering how it is to live just here, and there and what about here? How are our lives influenced by geography, history, beliefs, health,political and economical limitations and possibilities? What longings do we share, what dreams do we want to make real together?

IMG_2433 really fallI do love the in-between travels, some times I have had the opportunity to go places where my husband will work, and I will have no responsibilities. I walk at my leisure, almost meditating, through parks, woods, libraries, galleries and museums. I take photos, talk to people, have long lunches where I write and think, and then we will meet up for dinner or have some days together after the conference or whatever.

IMG_2481 the colours of St.PetersburgThis way I get to see the sights, have fun with my husband, and savour the place and the people in my own pace. I do not know anybody who is so slow in taking in a new place like me, and who actually wants to sit on a bench pondering over life, when there are shops or sights everywhere. But I do, and I love it.

IMG_1754 spilt bloodEven more I treasure the years we have been living abroad, in the Netherlands, in Indiana and now in California. To live in a different culture and get to understand more, to take part in charities, community life, making new friends, really makes my life richer. Even in traveling I believe that we see “through a glass darkly” and need to tell each other about our lives to be able to understand more of the total picture called LIFE.

IMG_2490 hiddel cathedralThen of course, there is no need to go anywhere, I do not know everyone in my own home town or even in my own street, so no: I go, learn and reflect and love it. But, I do not need to go or long to go anywhere.

The pictures in this post is from solitary and wonderful walks through Saint Petersburg last October.

Gloomy glum

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IMG_2015 stolperI went out in the marches to look for beautiful photos. To me it was a glorious day. It was made even better when I spotted an old-time childhood friend sitting on a stone, dangling his long ungainly legs. Well, Hello Puddleglum! I shouted. He barely looked up. Oh, it’s you is it? I would not come closer if I were you. Why not? I said as I rushed to him and gave him a hug. You know, those cold clear day are sure to bring out a rheumatism he commented, you should stay away from the shore! Do you have rheumatism then? I countered. Not yet, not yet, any day now, he said, with a tone in his voice conveying that a spot of arthritis was all he lacked to make his suffering complete.

IMG_1452 reflection pond I sat down by his side and looked out over a small pond, reflecting reeds, flowers and trees. A frog was squeaking. I bet you are hungry, he said. Well, not really, I answered. Good, as there is no food, he sighed. Life is not all fricasseed eel and frog pie you know, even to you, who are just frolicking along, it isn’t.

IMG_0421 storlidalen 1 I contemplated this for a while, when it suddenly struck me. But Puddleglum, why are you still so gloomy? I thought you were in Aslan’s country now! Oh, but I am, he answered. I used to be afraid of that, thought I would have to sing and dance and that sort of thing. But that’s not my way of being happy. As happy never was a word that came to mind when thinking about my true and trusted friend, I had to ask him.

IMG_2612 storlidalen solAre you happy then? In every bone he said. You know Aslan said, being in his country is being the perfect me, truly fulfilling what he created me to be, so worrying is allowed. This surprised me. How could that be? You know my worrying has always been my way of telling Aslan that I trust him to take care of things, because it sure is too much for me. And now, with this bright new world, and everyone singing, it sure needs someone to keep on the look out for not perfect things. They are not allowed, you know.

IMG_3418 vannliljerSo he let’s you worry? I could not grasp this. Well, he told me I had trusted him, in all adversities, never saying no, even when I thought he was giving foolish orders. So I still get to do that, you would not see the blue sky if everything was blue would you? He told me, that perfect consists of everyone as long as they trust him. In some of us the music of rejoice is trust, in some of us it is singing, as to you it is laughing. You sure you’re not hungry? Well, perhaps a little? Good, because I just made a pot of fricasseed eel, we are in Aslan’s country after all, aren’t we?IMG_2571 mardøla

The strangers that knew me – a postaday on the daily prompt

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IMG_0718 seascapeI was on my way to Norway from Indiana to attend my mother’s funeral. She died quite unexpectedly while traveling, which meant there were weeks from her death to having the body back home  for burial. Weeks of intense grief and stress. During those weeks I experienced to be part of a caring society, I have told many stories of the many ways people we knew only vaguely were a great comfort. I did not know all the ways one could be a comfort to others before then, I guess that is another post.

IMG_0728 landscapeEven so, I was totally exhausted. I was traveling alone, as the boys had their finals and my husband was staying with them. Of course there were delays. In the most unorganized way, as only airports can muster, we went back and forth between the gates at Newark, not having time for eating, being lined up and then dismissed for several times. When we finally were at a promising gate, I was so tired my legs were shaking. I tried to rest against a pillar while trying not to think sad thoughts as I had no strength for crying.

IMG_0294 purpleThen from the other side of the crowd a woman came over and stood beside me. She started to talk, softly, comfortingly, not asking any questions. Turned out  she knew a wonderful person I had worked with, I got her card, and while we boarded the plane she disappeared. I never found that card again, and I my friend had never heard of her.

IMG_0697 brownThen I got to my seat, a small crowded plane and a transatlantic flight. My heart sunk as I saw who  I was to share the row with. A young couple with loads of hand luggage, guitars, bags, pillows, everything spreading into my seat too. I needed just a small private space, and it seemed that even that would be denied me. I sat down with a sigh.

IMG_2528 greenThen it was as the scene changed before my eyes. Turned out the young man was blind, and his girlfriend was also taking care of things. Before long all the paraphernalia were stowed away, they both sent me warm smiles and settled into their seats, the girl in the middle, me in the aisle seat. Then she turned towards me and had a closer look. You are cold, she said, let me get you a blanket. And she did. Put it expertly around me, turned towards her boyfriend and went to sleep. I am normally  a person who takes care of everything and everybody. It is not easy to help strangers though. Even so, when I needed it most, someone else listened to the small voice in their heart that showed them what to do  and did it.

IMG_0292 sunnyI do believe in angels, and if this was fiction I would have given this persons an added glow. They were humans though, as I am, given new possibilities every day to give a gift of comfort to a passing stranger.

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Change for better and worse, for good and for bad – weekly photo-challenge

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Symbol of change

Symbol of change

One night I heard something rustling in our garden. I looked out and locked eyes with a racoon eating an orange. Some time later a heard a thump and next morning an orange was lying on the patio floor. That all symbolizes change to us. Living where oranges grow abundantly, living where raccoons roam the trees at night, living where there is a patio floor, a wonderful change, an exchange from cold norwegian winter.

IMG_1292 moden og umoden appelsinEven change needs a seed to grow from though. To me the seed is the happy memory of our honeymoon 31 years ago. We went to Florida, and the warm nights were scented with orange blossoms. I even brought orange blossom perfume home. For years one of my drawers smelt like summer, like fun, like love. Through better and worse, through the growth and change of our relationship, I could go back and let that happy scent accompany me through the day.

IMG_1331 appelsin blomstEven change could go unnoticed if we are too busy to cherish it. To me it is a gift to live a place where I smell oranges everyday, every orange an eye-opener to the possibilities of change. Every orange blossom a happy note of thankfulness for the things that are still the same, through all the times that are changing.

IMG_0501 appelsin tre

Go with the flow – the expected unexpected in a postaday post

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Go away!

Go away!

My theory that life is so much better if you are just enough organized is grounded in the basic fact that life seldom is what we expect it to be.

When I am in a realistic/pessimistic/blue/ just too tired mood, I expect the worst to happen, that an unexpected call will be the police telling me of an accident or our vicar to tell of a death. It almost never is.

You are not welcome

You are not welcome

When everything is going my way and I feel happy, expectant and relaxed, I do expect callers that brings news of new-born babies, love that is found, competitions that are won and invitations that are given. Quite often it is. Most of the time unexpected calls are neither, but just interruptions. Someone wants me to buy things, do something, sign up for almost anything. Even so, the calls are made by people who do deserve that I listen and am polite.

Not today

Not today

And then to most of us life is just that. Someone will try to sell you car insurance even when you are ill in bed. Others will want to share their joy when your soul will shed only tears, as grief and sorrow will not wait at the door until we are through with our party. Of course one cannot expect and plan for all this, if you do anxiety will cripple your attempt at living.

I want you to feel like this

I want you to feel like this

Even so, knowing that the unexpected are to be expected, gives a relaxed way of living that makes room for both joy and sorrow. Even if most of my callers are expected, I want even the unexpected to feel wanted and cared for. To be organized for this is something I work on being better at.

Let us just sit down

Let us just sit down

I do it like this: I try to leave open spots in my schedule so that I always have a real possibility of taking some time off for the unexpected call, even if it is not the catastrophic sort who forces everything else away.

I normally have something nice to eat in the freezer, either to add to our meal or to make a new meal when guests show up unexpectedly.

I try to keep my house in order, not only for guests, but so as not to waste time running in circles when I really need to respond to something.

The more the merrier

The more the merrier

Most of all, I sit down. I used to be so happy when the cordless phones came, which meant I could keep on doing whatever I thought was important when somebody called. I thought the caller could not feel my resentment  for being interrupted. I surely was so preoccupied with trying to do things when listening that I completely missed the blessing of walking a part of the road   with a fellow human being. I did not stop doing that until my son answered the phone the first time. As soon as he had said hello he rushed to the window and started to deadhead the potted plants, then he tried to water them all the time listening to his grandmother. Afterwards I asked him why he did that. That’s what you do, he said. As soon as the phone rings you start to run about, you never do that when people are visiting!

Who were that on the phone I said, I do not know he said, looking puzzled. To him the phone was the signal for rushing, not for relating.

Who was that?

Who was that?

I am not an angel, most of my friends or people that call me are not either, I think. I like to think of the verse in the Bible who says we should not forget to show hospitality as we could be hosting angels (Hebrews 13:2). That would certainly be unexpected, but if even that is what should be expected, I think I’ll just go with the flow, receive whoever is calling, and expect some surprises.

You are very welcome! See you! You are always expected!

Index or indexy? A postaday prompt to publish a draft

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Yesterday's card

Yesterday’s card

Some of my old midwestern friends told me their organizing secret, always carry index-cards in your wallet.

As if…I thought. When I finally got around to use the calendar and address book on my phone, why should I return to paper? Then I met someone who invited me over for coffee, and before I could make a note on my gadget she pulled out a card, drove a map, made some helpful notes ( ..and I know my GPS would not have told me to watch for the cute mailbox) and gave it to me. Hmm, neat. When I had been there I did not need the note anymore and could discard it (literally). I also know that I never go into my digitalized notes and organize or delete them.

Plowers and pipers, totally unorganized and happy about it.

Plowers and pipers, totally unorganized and happy about it.

Then I needed some material for a new project, snippets of what I got  stapled on an index-card, add the new bought stuff ,and I had the start of a project archive.

Then I needed a list of directions for a bicycle ride, write on card, tear out and tape on to my handlebar.

Then I was waiting for my husband for lunch and come to think of one of the things I do not do and that  I probably should do….write a diary. Nothing  serious. Just as a memory trigger for pictures I take and thoughts I am not through with thinking. I do not want to carry more in my bag, I do not want a prestigious project, and I do love the concept of all-in-one.Index cards, and the idea and theme of this blog was born together with my “Indexyourlife- diary”.

Where I sat yesterday

Where I sat yesterday

Once a day, when waiting for something, I pull out my spiral bound index cards. I write the date and a heading. Yesterday it was ” At Coal Point” then I write what I am doing just then, a thought that is passing through my mind or just some facts. NEVER more than one small card. The beauty is that I can do all other indexy stuff on the following pages, and not ruin my diary, as I will pull them out and sort them when the stack is up.

The waves were great, no whales at whale point though

The waves were great, no whales at whale point though

The true beauty is that this is just at the core of what I think organizing should be about. Not de-cluttering and buying organizing tools, but taking care to use my resources on my true values, and not let my own or other people’s clutter de-energize me or make me waste my precious time. Indexyour life is my way of taking stock, stopping in the middle of my day, saying: I am here, this is what I do, this is what I think. Doing this I turn what could be irritating ( waiting for someone) into a precious moment of reflection.

The thing I never do is putting information on them and index it…..that is one thing machines can do better than me. I am indexy-ish not a robot!

Not me! Interesting at the computer museum at Bletchley Park

Not me! Interesting at the computer museum at Bletchley Park