I am very good at disappearing into thin air. I learned to be as silent as a feather, like the owl flying soundless into the dark night. How happy I am now to sing loud and scream, to find myself making noise without feeling embarrassed, to hear my voice asking, to hear my body moove, to swet, to stamp my feet, to hold someone else close, to touch, to feel my strenght. I was always good at disappearing into thin air, no I am not there. But now I am there, and I won’t let you run over me anymore, no one ever anymore.

Do I hear an angry voice somewhere, taking back what belongs to you?

My hands lead the way. I just told my yoga students the other day, I’m not going to put energy in personal treatment. As it happens to be necessary, I’ll be there. Natural, without force, without promotion. When it is needed.

She called me this morning, in pain. If I have time, and yes because my schedule changed, well that’s what I thought, cause I get this phonecall one minute later that a class is waiting for me. Well so sorry, mistake, I thought the whole day was cancelled but only the afternoonclass was. Some other time…..

I put my hands on her body, feeling, breathing. I don’t have to treat the painful spots. The body itself will lead the energy where it is needed. I relax, start yawning, tears running down my cheeks. I feel the energy change under my palms. It feels cold, so I send some heat. I feel my spine straightening, I feel my stomage contracting, I feel pain on the chest. My body is reflecting. I give, I receive, I give, I receive, easy. I open up to the universe, ask for help, relax, wait, breathe, so simple, I visualize, the body, the chakra’s, colours, I send, I receive, I am whole.

So now I’m puzzled, because treating gives me a lot of energy and is very grounding and relaxing, and my whole body and heart are warm and soft and happy, afterwards.

I grew up too fast, maybe that’s the problem

I am afraid yes, for physical pain, that’s why I want to be stronger then a man, that’s why I train my bud of. He was much stronger then I. He was much taller then I. He was drunk most of the time. Not aware of his actions, but still, there’s no way to condone.

We arrived in London, at night, ended up in a bar, he drinking, I feeling completely lost, but also responsible to find a place for the night, and then something broke inside, I went of my head, completely beserk, went outside, hysterical, to cool down. Let the tears roll down my face. Oh fuck, story of my life, tears… We climbed a fence hours later, into a park, with big signs, don’t enter, penalty, blablabla. We put up our tent on this pretty lawn. And in the morning there was a gardener happily cutting the grass two millimeter shorter, not so far away from our spot, we packed and left quietly.

We woke up one morning, not knowing where we put up our tent this time, it was late the other night, dark, too much boose for him, too much worry for me. We happend to park our tent just behind the church, a flock of sheep surrounded us, merrily bleating in the morning sun, wake up, wake up. Oh god my head is heavy.

He was pissed of because I said I was leaving him. He wouldn’t let me go. I started to cry, to whine, getting out of my mind, loosing control. He said I had to stop, that the neighbours could hear me, well yes that probably was the point, getting attention, but he insisted, stop crying, but I couldn’t, I lost control completely.

Next thing I know he was sitting on top of me, with his hands around my neck, telling me to stop or he would kill me. And then I stopped, I even stopped breathing for a moment or so, I was shocked, terrified, he had hit me in the face. He leaned heavy on me. And I stopped crying, I stopped breathing, I stopped living, I gave up. To survive.

We went to bed. I waited, silently, until I heard by his breathing he was asleep. How often I heard my fathers breathing, my mothers, I could tell he was fast asleep. And I slipt away, as if I was a ghost, silently, no noise, tiptoeing the stairs, on my bare feet, then as soon as I was outside I ran, with my shoes in my hands, as fast as I could, away, from this horror.

Suddenly it makes sense. I was six years old, lying in the hospital for a hernia.

It’s your own fault my mother told me, you shouldn’t have been making such a fuss all the time, stamping your feet whenever you don’t get what you want. I surely should have been marked as a ADHD child when I was young now. See what happened to you. You have to be operated on.

So I lay in the hospital, not so bad, because I get a lot of attention, more then at home, where my mother is busy with my baby brother and her work and we just mooved house, and I just mooved into primary school first year where my teacher tries to learn to me to write righthanded but I refuse, stubborn me, that’s what actually saved me, my stubbornness and never letting go of believing that it will be better one day, and I just had a bad year behing me in nursery school where this old hag didn’t let me go to the toilet, so I got so upset my mother let me stay at home but then I felt not being taken seriously. For gods sake how can you let little childeren not go to the toilet when it is needed? As if I faked it, and the more she refused to let me go, the more I needed to go. That is what makes you piss, stress!

But still in the hospital, during daytime was fun. I was in the row, next to the sink, little children have to finish their plates, don’t they? Well we thought not, so as soon as nurse Redget left, all leftovers, bread, cheese, jam, deserts, potatoes, greens, meats, were handed over my direction. I got out of bed, poored the milk and tea down the drain, flickered all the rest in the bin. And oh yes it hurts, because I shouldn’t get up yet, but I’m a big girl. I even tried not to suck my thumb.

But at night, I got frightened. The cold, the dark, the lonelyness. I have been afraid a lot of lonely nights, lying still in the dark, not mooving, not making any sound, I hear my father come to bed, I hear him fall asleep, his breath changes, I hear my mother come to bed, I hear them making love, sometimes, it scares me. I was afraid of the thunder, of the lightning, I was always looking under my bed, but nothing could live there, it was all stuffed with boxes. But maybe all these boxes, containing useless things, kept the energy I am so sensitive for.

And then  a couple of years later I fell in the swimming pool with my head on the stone edge of the tray. Unconscious, walking to the nearby hospital, not knowing, not being able to walk straight, not seeing properly, dizzy, and in the hospital I puked all over me, felt so miserable, and then they brought me with the ambulance to my grandmother where I was staying with my sister, thank god I was there with my sister, whom I love so very much. Remarkable how they managed to maneuver me through the stairs being strapped on a brancard. Because I was not aloud to walk for several weeks. Well finally back home, I started to creep like a toddler, because I couldn’t ly still, I wanted to moove. Funny that is I always want to moove, I find it difficult to sit still, I love mooving, dancing, walking.

In the hospital, there was this smell, and the waiting in the hall, for hours, alone, lonely, not knowing where my sister was, what was happening to me, so afraid, scared, and the cold and sobbing my fear away, I had to be strong. So I only told at school the fun bit, the ambulance, the icecream, the brancard, the big bump on my head, yes you can still feel it. And yes I walked all the way to the hospital, no swet.

Fuck it.

And then there was this time in Mende in France. Years later, grown up. 38 I was. Pregnant, carrying a dead child, which has to come out. And it did, well I thought so, near the river, the stream took it away, red blood shed, thick clumps, emptying out. But two days later the cramp in my body was agony, I ran to the toilet a hundred times, not knowing what was happening to me. After hours, I got so tired, we rang home and asked the midwife what was wrong. She told me to got and see the docter.  He put his finger up my vagina and the blood started to run heavily, he fixed me up with  a diaper and some serious painkiller, send me to the hospital to scrape me clean, get a curettage that is.

As son as I got into the hospital they put me in a wheelchair, and suddenly I could speak french flawless, That night was hell. I got the surgeon. My partner went back to the campsite. I woke up, by screaming, mothers in labour, baby’s crying, and me, lonely, empty, in pain. The next morning I was released, that evening I started bleeding again, rushed home, I don’t know how fast he drove, but fast, to get home, to feel safe, to ask help. And I bled, endlessly.

She is holding my head gently between her hands. It becomes hot and when I say: ‘he has to start loving himself first’, my body immediately responds, starting to rotate. It’s what you say to yourself, she says.

I never had such a bizarre experience without taking any drugs. My head was lying stil, my body was mooving, spinninng, unwinding, like hell. And then gradually it slowed down and this big smile appeared on my face. How good this feels.

Your body was unwinding she said, letting go of tension, build up in your cells, literally, turning loose from the head, so it felt like the spine was turning, but it felt also like my whole body mooved. What it did was inside unwinding, resetting, letting go.

This is amazing stuff. And how I laughed in the car and the whole world looks a lot brighter and happier. And everybody smiles back at me.

She helps me to get things sorted out, going back into time, times where I don’t wanna be, because it hurts. So many things happened, fear upon fear upon fear.

I had to stop asking, to stop annoying other people, I had to be quiet, I had to listen, obey, stop playing, stop irritating other people, be responsible, help, don’t scream, don’t shout, don’t cry, deny that you exist, you’re not worth it. I take it all back, I play, I shout, I scream, I irritate, I make noise, I drink, I stay up late, I do everything a wise person wouldn’t, haha, but it is fun, and I only have one life, so why not use it!

‘You have to put your feet on the floor and decide what you want’, she said ‘and be clear, set your limits, you can play, you can go along with another if you like, without loosing yourself. Your the boss’.

I feel my body, I feel the tension, I can let go, I’ve always been in control, afraid. Now I let go, and how shaky it feels and how my energy rises high and how restless I feel. But it is wonderful at the same time because I go with the flow. And all these things I learned to protect me are not necessary anymore. I’m not afraid to love, to live, to embrace life anymore. I am able to play, to enjoy and let it all happen. This is fun.

Thank you so much.

Home is where the heart is. Even without a real home, she’s not homeless. She’s entering inner space. Coming home within.

I still like the material world, beautiful things, money makes it all happen.
But I realize I can do without. I don’t worry that much anymore. Not about what people say or think about me. Whether they like me or not.  There’s no money in my account, I have no real home, I have no partner. But I do have a lot of friends, there’s always a job, I never get bored, I’m in love, I am happy.

I went to the movies the other night, feeling restless. Wall Street, the second make by Oliver Stone, with Michael Douglas. There’s the additional lovestory in the background. I went to the Photo Gallery today, Nan Goldin is showing, about communication, love, parties, gender, sex and saying good bye. It’s all about relating to one another. Nothing else is important. I relate, at least I try.

Byebye!

Haar benen uit haar lijf gefietst, langs de Schie, luidkeels zingend. Het zijn de hormonen die op hol zijn. Tot over haar oren verliefd, erger nog totaal verloren. Strijken er naast haar twee zwanen neer in het water, zwaar slippend op het  water.
Zo  mooi zo sereen. Zwanen nemen geen nieuwe partner als er eentje sterft. Eens verbonden altijd verbonden. Ware liefde. De pijn is er niet minder om.

Gaan is zo lekker.

We eten samen, het eten is lekker, het gezelschap is goed, geen storende muziek, een mooie natuurlijke inrichting, aardige mensen die je een fijne avond  geven, bediend, verwend, wijn geproefd, in mijn jas geholpen, precies zoals je wenst.

Ik loop door de stad met een glimlach, ik heb niets meer nodig dan dit. Goed gezelschap, lekker eten, het gevoel samen te zijn, te delen en de nacht in te lopen, thuis te komen, te schrijven, lief te hebben.

Heyhey, I’m home again…
Sitting in my garden house where I can breathe, surrounded by trees, plants, air.
All these houses, cars, people block my energy. Here I revitalise.

So cut the crap.
What I want is a man who appreciates a good glass of wine, who loves open fires and likes to sit down to eat and talk (for hours if necessary) I don’t care what his occupation is, he can have kids. As long as he enjoys life, is grounded and knows how to satisfy a woman, likes being touched, kissed and cared for. And if possibly he marries me with high heels, strapless top, wavy skirt and sexy underwear….