On an intellectual level, it is possible to know that there is no point in yelling, singing or searching for something, but I find myself constantly doing these things anyway. Before I know it, my mind is back in searching mode, trying to find something new to bring happiness or peace. Trying to find something to stop that, is just more searching, so I guess all I can do is watch it happen and let it have it’s course.
Maybe some day it will just drop away on it’s own, otherwise the search will continue. The frustration comes when I see the searching going on, and then think I should/could stop the search, which is just another search and sometimes it takes a while before I SEE what I’m doing and just relax around it, truly trying to lift myself in my own bootstraps and catching my own tail at the same time.
To an outsider I guess it can look quite funny…
Monthly Archives: September 2009
What are you going to do?
Trying out the offline blogging
Seems to work just fine. Nice! 
Adventurous
I have more or less recovered from the flu now. Only small remnants that will eventually go away.
In total I was home from work Thursday and Friday, working a few hours every day. All in all, it wasn’t too bad.
It was some time ago since I last spent four days in a row in my apartment almost without going out. Working Thursday and Friday was rather easy, and by saturday I was feeling quite relaxed, both physically and mentally. When you are sick you are always a bit restless but during saturday I felt a surge of energy come back and I used it to clean the apartment.
I had plans for saturday to go to a concert arranged by Amnesty but thought it was wise to turn it down, allthough I wasn’t feeling too bad. I’m glad I did.
At around eight or nine, I started feeling very good, and I sat down in the chair in the doorway to the balcony and watched the rain falling outside.
Suddenly I felt so relaxed, I had some mellow and nice music on and a strange kind of happiness appeared. With it came the desire to write.
When I woke up Sunday, I had no real plans for the day. I still felt it would be wise to stay inside for most of the day so I continues what had started the night before. Some really nice mellow music (Peter Broderick (the youtube link I sent you) and Efterklang (a danish electronica band).
The music played, I was reading “on the road” by Jack Kerouac and just mooching around the apartment. Candles were lit, some incense was burning.
The hours went by. No rush, just me and everything.
I connected this feeling I had with something I was very familiar with when I was younger, around 16-17 or so. Spending day after day during summer holiday just mooching around, doing whatever I wanted. It was a wonderful feeling. I opened a bottle of wine and had a glass. Somehow everything seemed to be more real. More beautiful. I was dancing around in the living room. The wine tasted more. Every little detail around me was brought to attention. I am alive and in love with life.
Sunday night I went over to Ulrica and watched a few episodes of the TV-series True Blood.
Monday I went back to work, afterwards I went to the rock choir I have joined for the third time and afterwards another episode of True Blood with Ulrica.
Tonight I came home, made some food and now I have already gone to bed, writing, finishing that bottle of wine I opened on Sunday and listening to some music. It is like a great feeling of being alive, adventurous. Enjoying the most simple things in life. Tonight I thought about it, and realized that it is about a week since I finalized my temporary leave with my boss. Maybe it is because of this, finally dropping work and starting to live that brings this feeling about. Or maybe it’s just because that I got to spend quite a few days just on my own.
I remember when I was 18 years old and my mom said that I should get myself a job to make some extra money and I told her, that I value my freedom more than money. I don’t think she will ever understand me when I say something like that, but the happiest times in my life I can remember, are those when I could just waste my time completely, with no goals or a need for results. Me and my mother grew up and live completely different lives in many ways. So does my dad.
I love them both, very much.
The candles are lit
The candles are lit. Peter Broderick is playing.?Everything is so so silent.
It is past midnight. This time of the day which brings out feeling and creativity. That sparkles the heart to take command of the mind and bring out that which is hidden in broad daylight.
I am a vampire that needs it blood. Staying away from the rays of the sun, basking in the rays of darkness that can be hinted beyond the light of the candles.
It can easily be misunderstood for sadness or depression, but it’s not. It is a kind of beauty often overlooked by those who only look for the brightest of smiles used as a mask to hide the real pain within. This is an upside down world, where what looks like pain is a mellow happiness and that which looks so desirable is a mess of unknown depth.
I guess we all know both of them, more or less.
A silent September saturday (in Swedish)
Det har slutat regna.
Regnet kom från ingenstans. Hårda droppar som slog mot balkongräcket. Det gav en form av frid.
När det slutat regna öppnade jag balkongdörren, och så satt jag där i öppningen till världen utanför och luktade på den fuktiga luften. Tittade ut i mörkret denna tysta septemberlördag. Droppar hängde längs med räcket för att stundtals tappa fästet och falla nedåt. En tyst lördag.
Ikväll är allting lite extra. Regnet känns lite mer. Källaren tar mina tankar bort till alla källare jag har varit i, som en representant för alla jag har upplevt på olika platser där jag bott. De har alltid en speciell lukt och känsla. Torr, tyst luft. Stilla energi i förråden. De är alla desamma. Nytvättad tvätt på samma sätt som alla de där gångerna förrut, trots att det är nya kläder, ett nytt jag som blir beklädd.?Mina tankar för mig till många platser ikväll. En tyst stjärnklar natt i Californien, en varm natt på en madrass i ett litet rum i Indien. Utanför hör jag hundarna skälla i timmar. Friden att vakna upp i all enkelhet och duscha genom att hälla varmt vatten över mig med en hink. Timmar framför den öppna elden på läger när man var liten. Tillbaka här i min lägenhet nu, där varje liten del av oss människor känns extra vackert.
Vi människor kan verkligen vara de mest märkliga och förbannade varelser, men också så obeskrivligt vackra. Sorgset ignoranta, frustrerande förtvivlade när vi aldrig vet vad vi ska göra utan att skapa nya problem och konflikter av vårt agerande. Vi kan inte lösa våra egna problem, och ju mer vi försöker, desto mer insnöade blir vi.
Vi försöker ständigt fly undan alla dessa konflikter, utan att inse att vi vill ha dem där. Konflikterna ger oss en mening och ett mål. Ett syfte att leva. Det var aldrig meningen att vi skulle lösa våra problem. Vi drömmer om att vinna på lotto, för då blir allting enklare, men det var aldrig meningen att det skulle vara enkelt. Vi är bara så vana att fokusera på fel saker.
När vi försöker lösa våra problem, hitta en väg, finna kärleken, ett bättre jobb, vi längtar efter att få gå hem från jobbet, att det ska sluta regna så vi kan gå ut. Denna väntan, denna längtan efter något annat hela tiden.?Under hela den här tiden så lever vi. Vi är i levande. Allt som händer, dyker upp när vi lever. Allting som händer kommer in och ut ur detta enda enkla, våra liv. Men vi fokuserar så mycket på att lösa allting, längta någon annanstans och sträva efter mer och bättre att vi glömde bort att vi alltid lever. Just nu.
När jag sitter och lyssnar på regnets läte. När någon tittar upp mot en stjärnklar himmel på andra sidan jorden, så är jag bara här och nu, regnet och stjärnorna är alla en del av mitt liv. Precis som de är. Varje detalj får en annan lyster, varje detalj blir en självklar del av min egen helhet. Och i detta, så får dessa detaljer en märklig förmåga att kännas som mer äkta än annars.
