an urbanite's ramblings

Reflections in a friend

2012-01-07T00:41:00.001Z

I wonder, sometimes, whether the people I know are people I have got to know because of this, or that.

Because of coincidence or one of us daring to smile to a stranger or because of good chemistry? Because of joint interests or similar ways of thinking? Or because of a desire to understand ourselves and how we sit in the world? Whether I like them because they are reflected, or they me for the same reason, I wonder whether they reflect more because I share my reflections or because together we reflect? Whether the way I think and talk affects the way they think and talk?

What's apparent is that all the people I call 'friend' think long and hard about their life. And I can tell that through years of thinking, and in some cases acting on learning from their thinking, they are moving slowly towards an understanding of what eluded them before. I am proud of them. I am proud of the progress they make, and of the progress I make and of the progress together we make.

A path less trodden

2012-01-05T23:26:00.000Z

That moment
When a busy mind quietens

A silent moment dives into the void
Of gnarly feelings like roots from a plant
Growing in a too-tight space
Restricting their light into glaring spikes
Instead of a solid glow

Red bricks and wooden flooring
Warm candles and home made bread
A steady moment with my one-time twin
Then she says:
You are treading a path less trodden

And tightness lessens and spikes soften
Departure is imminent

Recent happenings

2011-07-17T16:09:00.001+01:00

In St. Paul's Cemetery: A tail-less squirrel, lovingly and regularly kept an eye on by an elderly woman.

Cycling up towards Highbury Barn: "You're going fast!"

Out running this morning: Rain and sun and clouds and people in their own worlds meeting on the Heath.

Trialing a gym club: A crazily energetic yoga teacher pushing my flexibility to new limits. My own yoga teacher wouldn't do that, she lets people follow their own speed.

Culture: A pop-up cinema in Hackney Wick, watched Requiem for Detroit. Awesome movie.

t-10weeks: Have run 91km already this month as part of my prep for the Berlin Marathon.

Work picking up: Just booked tickets to visit Edinburgh, Cumbernauld and Newcastle over 5 days in September.

Bike: Realising how bloody heavy an iron-frame bike is and how much I'd like to replace it with a lovely new (light!) model.

Italian goodness: Off to a wedding this week, and looking forward to chilling on the beach.

"Freelancing": Copy writing a book for someone I hardly know whilst working, trying to maintain a social life, training for a marathon.

District to home

2011-05-28T23:17:00.000+01:00

Went to visit my lovely friends in Richmond today. They had a baby last autumn and since moved to the other side of London. I don't see them as often as I used to. My friend's sister was visiting from overseas with her daughter. The two girls are just 6 weeks apart in age. Needless to say, this visit involved a lot of baby focused activities.
I'm on the tube, heading home. I'd forgotten it's Saturday night, damned be my recently incredibly aged ways.

There's a middle aged coupled snogging the tongues out of each others faces, a waft of alcohol breath drifting past now and again, an elderly man sleeping while wearing a remarkable fez, a posh man in a blue kilt holding a balloon and a young woman with sparkles on her heavily made up face, in line with her incredibly orange fake-tan legs, tiny miniskirt and brash red lipstick. I feel like a weird transplant from another world.

25 September 2011

2011-04-01T07:28:00.004+01:00

I've decided to run Berlin. A good friend asked me a few months ago, and in my winter-induced laziness I said, "Mhm, yeah, well, maybe not". Now, after running more or less consistently for a month or so I'm thinking that it just might be possible. Watch this space :)

Action

2011-03-16T00:42:00.004Z

I've started running again. It's been so long and it feels so good. It's like spring has finally decided to peek out and has brought with it a bit of energy and clarity.

Things are moving so rapidly these days. Work is immensely busy, I'm moving house within 6 weeks, days fly by with activity.

Ode to the Chestnut

2010-11-27T08:39:00.003Z

’Ode til Kastanjen’

af Louise Albers og Stina Mott

While browsing around this morning, I came across an article on the Magazine KBH's website (the magazine has been threatened with closure, and seems, sadly, to be folding) on a book about the impact of the new metro works on one of the historically working class areas in Copenhagen. A 114-year old chestnut has been removed from Enghave Plads, a central square in an area which has recently developed from being a neglected, socially challenged place with strong internal community links into fancy cocktail/pricey caffe latte/poncy posing land: Vesterbro.

To be honest, my friends are doing what they can to contribute, having moved in with their highly educated selves and partners, dragging the latest design items, expensive hair-dos and healthy living values with them.

The contrast between them and the experience of the area of 15 years ago is marked. I haven't lived away from Copenhagen for that long, but the changes that have happened in that time span, and in particular the time I have been away, have been remarkable. I too love the new, clean Vesterbro, where new cafes and bars and cool clothing shops pop up, but I can't help but think that there in gentrification is very little respect for the values and qualities of what was. And indeed that the people who have lived in the area for ages have not seen their lives improve by the changes - can they afford to go to a cafe where a coffee costs 30kr? I don't think so. Do they feel welcome in their own 'hood?

I loved this quote from the book:

”Engang var det sådan, at man på Vesterbro ikke behøvede at trække maven ind og tvære sorgen væk fra øjnene.” Præsten Mette

”It used to be, that in Vesterbro you didn't have to pull in your stomach and rub the sorrow from your eyes.” Mette, the priest

I hope there is still room for emotions in Vesterbro.

Yoga

2010-11-15T21:38:00.003Z

I've just done my Monday yoga; every Monday, following a thinking session straight after work, I head to my yoga class. I love it. Some times I have to drag my mentally refusing brain by the stem, but I know that my body will thank me. Every single time. It's amazing what an hour and a half can do for your well-being. And it's amazing how many times my brain just doesn't feel like going. But I do go.

My teacher is lovely. She has that calm air about her that you'd somehow expect in a yoga teacher, warm, tender almost, and has with gentle adjustments since I started coming to class in January this year taught me a lot about my body.

I've learnt to activate muscles I have never been aware of before. I stretch and twist my spine with an awareness that leaves my muscles sore and used. Tuesdays I really feel my arms from holding them outstretched to the tips of my fingers, shoulders released, or from reaching them straight above my head as high as I ever could. When I bike to work my legs remind me of the mental space and the stretch and use they experienced Monday evening, and I feel a certain satisfaction.

It's a respite, in some ways, from the busy bustle of my daily work, from my hyperactive brain, from my emotional cowardice. It's just me. My body. My breathing, my muscles. It's so incredibly healthy for me.

What do you do for your mental and physical health?

When good things end

2010-11-13T11:21:00.004Z

When you pass on something good because it's 'for now', rather than 'for longer', are you then grown up? Mature? A sorry sod? A killjoy? Realistic?

One thing that's for sure is that I did.

Distance

2010-11-10T20:59:00.001Z

Lucky star

2010-06-09T21:32:00.006+01:00

I didn't know it could be like this. I had hoped that it didn't have to be a long, weary drudge, that there might be opportunities for a sparkle in there, but I had no idea that work could bring such a feeling of being impressed by others, of having walked a shared journey, and of pride in the people continuing when our involvement in the project came to a close. I just had the last session with a community group and I'm feeling a little teary-eyed. I know they will go on to build an amazing building (probably with their own and the community's bare hands!) and I can't wait to visit them in their shiny new building in a few years. It has been a remarkable journey from a meeting with two people who wanted to have a building, to seeing the involvement of the community and the engagement of tens of people over a period of months. They truly have impressed me with their aspirations and dreams, and with being willing to take the chance and challenge that this project is.

At the end of the workshop today they all chimed in, saying how the process of working with us had given them confidence that they can do this, that it seems manageable now, that they feel empowered, that they have learnt so much, and all just beamed with the knowledge that they are so on the right track.

This is the joy that my job gives me. I feel so extremely blessed and lucky to have the opportunity to work with people and within a field that can give me a feeling like this and such a sense of contentment. Few dare even dream of having it, and even fewer have the luck to live the experience.

I'll be looking at the stars this evening to see if I can suss the lucky alignment I'm living under.

Jack of all trades

2010-04-11T22:55:00.002+01:00

I'm reading a book by Haruki Murakami called What I talk about when I talk about running. Although he's a prolific author and a well-known one, I have never managed to read any of his books before.

I used to read with the thirst for letters on a page like a lonely soul in the desert drinks after reaching a long desired oasis, but that slowly wound down to a drawn-out trickle. In my high school years, and indeed university years, my reading was almost entirely focused on curriculum and research texts. I was going to write 'factual literature', but perhaps due to the nature of my studies a lot the texts I read were manifestoes and creative interpretations of buildings, spaces, cities, and the lives of people. I did read for pleasure, and often much more than necessary, but only extremely rarely a literary piece of fiction.

These days my reading echoes my intake of fluids: I drink only when I need to, or am reminded to by a dull-feeling brain that needs input to clear it up and get it flowing again. I am much focused on doing these days, a capacity that I haven't really felt that I have had a grasp of (ever?), and which I have spent much energy in pursuing. I am succeeding in some ways.

His book is about running, and writing, and his life as a running novelist. He draws parallels between the physical training he needs to run and to run well and the mental training he puts in daily in his concentrated efforts at writing.

A very good friend gave me this book recently, I think as a sort of celebratory gift after I ran and completed my first marathon last month. I had seen the book researching literature whilst in the preparation phase for my race, but never got around to buying it. Symptomatic of me, really. And this brings me to title of this post. I have throughout my life been fairly good at a variety of things. Some have come fairly easily to me (like reading, maths, climbing trees), and others I have had to work very hard and intently at to reach a level that was acceptable to me (like basketball, designing). If I get involved in something I want to be at least decent at it.

I have recently been understanding a bit more of which tasks I am good at and those which I am merely adequate. I think I may have had some sort of subconscious awareness of it (because I am not utterly surprised, rather I am experiencing more and more calm clarity). It is more and more, although there is still a pretty intense ink cloud shrouding my skills from my consciousness, but floaty obstacles are disappearing and I get glimpses of strengths and, perhaps more importantly, areas which are not my forte. Who knew reading about running could help you think about life?

When I run I have time, calm clear time, to contemplate the challenges and contradictions I'm facing. I spend my running time with a certain freshness and clarity that tends to evaporate when I stop running. My runs give me space, a sense of achievement, and connect my otherwise un-noticed body to my over-thinking brain. I had no idea how important running would become for me when I started. I needed to do some exercise, I needed to create space for me, and that's just about it. Now it forms an important side of my mental health and of my self image and understanding in addition to those initial goals.

I wonder if I will continue to run always. Right now I think it'd be a good idea.

Long-distance friends

2010-03-28T20:19:00.006+01:00

The weak sun warmed our bodies as we walked and chatted today in East London. The darker bits where the sun didn't reach us felt chilly and were endurable because we knew that in a moment there would be the novel sensation of spring and warmth on our faces again.

The things we talked about were the usual - boys, jobs, flats, sickness and health, family things. It's funny how the topics are the same as ever, yet we all felt a marked "grown-up" feel to our chat. I think we today simply noticed that eternal morphing that takes place as time passes and we change, feel, grow, learn, overcoming challenges and pursuing hopes. How lovely to have friends to share life with!

For some reason or other I was reflecting on the friends I have across the world, and how lucky I am to have strong bonds with such a variety of people, all incredibly talented in each their way, lovable, amazingly warm and caring. Knowing that love and warm thoughts last even when there is no direct contact pleases me to no end.

I miss all of you out there, but I of all understand that where you live simply comes down to how your life plays out. I appreciate the friends who live nearby for the daily love and care, and my far-away friends for the enduring bonds that may change, as we change, but which seem built to last with a bit of care. Thankfully, friendships that emerge as paths cross in a moment of our lives can be as strong as friendships developed over years, even over distance.

I may be terrible at staying in touch, even with people I love dearly, but the moments when people appear in my thoughts at the most random of times remind me that we have something enduring.

I miss you all, but with a smile and a warm thought.

Race report: Barcelona Marathon 7 March 2010

2010-03-22T18:23:00.003Z

Better late than never, I hope.

I never set out to run a marathon when I began running, but the idea grew on me, and I signed up for Barcelona because my running buddy moved home to his beloved Girona.

My prep for this marathon was imperfect, to say the least. New responsibilities at work combined with tight deadlines meant that I did not get all my running in - missing my longest planned run of 30km (achieved 25km as a maximum), plus several others in the last 3-4 weeks. I was stressed, didn't sleep well, and worried that my training wasn't good enough. I didn't eat well either while travelling for work. Due to all this, I lowered my initial goal of 3:45 to 4h, as I didn't think it was realistic to achieve 3:45 with this kind of preparation.

After 3 days on the road delivering training, I got home late. I hadn't packed, of course, so when I woke up I threw some things in my bag (I had laid out my running shoes, and a bit of kit), and hit the road. A little pep-talk with a friend, and off to Girona! D picked me up, and we ate and had a lovely couple of days staying in a house in the mountains outside Girona (there's a point in this seeming excess information, wait for it :.) ) D kept pushing me to run together with him - to a 3:30h pace, and to be honest it stressed me out a fair bit, although I decided to stay with my 4h goal. I did walk a bit too much the days before the marathon.. We flew through the expo (D ran last year and was slightly impatient with me, the first-timer). Another good friend moved to Barcelona recently, so we needed to catch up, and my parents flew down to cheer me on, so a bit of chatting and walking was due. Train back to Girona, car up to the house in the hills, and a last pasta meal before the race. We were both getting jittery now. I packed and checked and double-checked my bag before climbing to bed and falling asleep when my head hit the pillow.

The alarm went off at 5, and it took a bit of cajoling by my friend to even get me up. "This is not a good idea, is it? I don't really want to do it.. Ok, I guess I signed up for this - UP!" Off we go, rushing out and walking to meet his cousin, who is driving. The rushing stayed the rest of the morning until we started racing - D and his cousin knew what they wanted to do, and when, and I didn't really feel I had any choice but to follow. I won't do that next time. Didn't really settle in at the expo-building, and didn't manage to warm up properly. Darn it. Rush to the corrals, only to wait for 15 minutes in a t-shirt in the cold. Darn it. I have to pee. Darn it. We wish each other luck and as people throw their long sleeved clothing and bottles we start moving. We pass the start line after 45-55s and D warns me to be careful of the dropped stuff. I start my ipod - now what's this - why is it measuring in miles? - and as I look at the *stupid* ipod I step on a bottle, twisting my right ankle! DARN IT! It hurts and as I mention it to D he nods and slowly moves ahead. I'm on my own for this one.

The first 5km are slightly upwards, towards Camp Nou, FC Barcelona's stadium. I'm running slower than I normally do, confused, disappointed - will I have to stop because of my ankle?! I grab a gel and start the fuelling. I feel my left hip and glute as expected - sciatica, sciatica.. After about 7km my feet go numb as they do fairly often (apparently because of my sciatica probs) and after I nearly twist my ankle again because of the numbness I stop and stretch to lessen the tingling. It helps a bit, but I know that it will pass if I just keep going. Another gel. I have had to pee since the start, and get annoyed at seeing all the guys stopping to water the cars. I look around for portapotties at 10km, but there are none. In the end I run into a bar and relieve myself, sprinting out again to join the race. Ahh, I feel better!

My parents are meant to be at Passeig de Gracia, just before 15km, so after a couple of Gaudi buildings I look around for the blue and gold (nice sign, mom!) and spot them before they see me. Yay, a little boost! I'm feeling better after the toilet and the cheering, and the next 5kms are better - past Sagrada Familia, loving the sightseeing! - I catch up with the 3:45 balloon - wow, that's really good! I even see D on the stretch where we run opposite each other, and as I pass the half marathon mark I'm in good form, albeit a bit slower than expected, 1:51 I think. I need the toilet again - ah, there's the Calatrava bridge! I continue to calculate my pace in miles and kilometres, fractions of completed race, and spotting others that are at about my pace to keep my mind busy. My left hip is starting to bother me more, and at about 25km I begin to feel the right one too. They have fruit at the 25km station and a quarter of an orange proves extremely successful (unlike the not-quite-ripe banana). My running style is shifting to a weird canter to accommodate the pain in the hips, and I'm moving very, very slowly. I need a toilet and decide to crash a bar again. This time I apparently take longer than 2 minutes (I'll spare you the details!) because my ipod stops, which I only dicover after a while back on the road. Damn, now I don't even have the a total time to go by.

I run to the Torre Agbar, where my mom has positioned herself unannounced - she sees me, but I miss her. People along the course cheer us on with our names, they're printed on the race bib, so I think she's just some random person. At 30km I pick up another orange, water and some powerade - I'm feeling well fuelled, but aware that I need to keep eating, so I grab a gel too. I pass Forum at 30-31km and remember D's cousin saying at about 6.30 that morning that when you reach Forum you'll be very tired. And I am. But I can also see the end of this - just another 11km! I can do that! I cross a bridge to reach the beach - and there's D, walking?! I yell at him "Vinga, D, vinga!", but he shakes his head and walks on slowly. I can't stop running now, so I continue. I'm proud that I'm going on, but also feel sad for him.

We're running along the beach front now, and more and more people are stopping and walking. I affirm to myself that I will not walk, I will not. So I keep moving, only stopping once to stretch before moving out again like a cripled horse. At least I'm 'running'. My parents are waiting at the Arc del Triomph, just before 35km, so I hold tight and keep going. I turn onto the parade, and there they are! Yay! They smile and cheer me on - my mom chases me with the camera as I slow down to grab some more orange, nuts and powerade. Then I'm off again - through the arch. We turn left and enter the old city centre - there are so many people here now, cheering, music playing. I'm going very slowly now, and I have to dig deep to keep it up. I very, very nearly trip on a loose tile - there's an audible 'pheew' from people who see it, and I stagger on. I'm really tired now, but there's less than 5km to go, I can do that!

There are many Danish runners with red t-shirts with 'Denmark' on the back, and for some reason I decide to cheer this one of them on. I say "Come on!" in Danish, and she turns and looks - my god, we know each other.. Where from, where from, we're both thinking through our tired minds. She manages "Basketball..?" And I nod and give her a "Keep it up!" before moving past the girl I used to play against in the Danish league, at my slightly faster pace than hers. Colom, 40km - more food. I stop to stuff my face for a few seconds with more nuts and orange before forcing my tired legs to move out again. 41km takes a long time to reach, and 42km keeps hiding... At about 41.5 the Danish girl passes me - no, you've gotta be kidding! I pull the last reserves and shift from the weird traipse to what feels like a proper run (but doesn't look it in the videos, I must say!). I overtake her again and as I run through the 42km arch I see 3.59.55, 3.59.56... OH NO! Over the Placa Espanya from where we also started, turn into the last 195m - the arches are confusing me - where's the finish line?! What's with the time?! I sprint the last hundred meters (or so it seems, really it's a slow-mo movement, but it's enough to overtake 8-10 people) and cross the line with the time at 4.00.45 or so. I'm so disappointed, I didn't make it under 4h. Man... I grind to a pained walk, and move through chip-removal, I get a medal.. Ok, 4h isn't bad... Darn it! I wanted UNDER 4h! I even bang a table with refreshments with my fist! But then - didn't I cross the START line at about 0:00:55 or so?! It just might be! I grab some more orange, nuts, water, muesli bar, powerade, and wander up towards the expo building. What were they thinking when they planned this - stairs?!

I pick up my bag, call my parents to have them come meet me. Then I see everyone looking at some print outs on the wall..? I search, and I find - 3.59.41! Wohoooooo! I made it!!!! I go find D's cousin, and then I feel my ankle and go out to find a red cross ambulance with some ice. D's cousin ran 3.08 - amazing, and a total inspiration. My mom saves the day with a fantastic fruit/nut/chocolate mix, eaten as D's cousin drops D and me back to the house in the hills outside Girona. We grill a load of lamb and potatoes and veggies, and wash it down with wine. Poor D has to go back to Girona, he's got a sports therapy client in the morning. I settle in on the couch in front of the fire with a few more snacks before dozing off. I wake at 8 o'clock with snow outside. Snow?! I was hoping for sun on the terrace! Oh well. I cook myself some more hearty Spanish food and go back to sleep. At 11am D is on the phone - panicky - "Pack your stuff, you need to come down from the mountain!" Hm. Ok. I make myself another sandwich and start packing up. In the end D has a friend come bring him up in his 4WD, D's car couldn't make it through the worst snow for 20 years. We slowly descend in at least a foot of snow, avoiding the trees bent or broken over the road. What a couple of days! We make it down, and I feel so happy. Just so happy. My muscles have been remarkably quiet, although all of the joints in my legs are painful, and my left instep and the right ankle are hurting.

I'm already thinking of when to do the next one.

A little nerve calming check list

2010-02-28T21:28:00.002Z

Race report: Watford Half Marathon 7 Feb 2010

2010-02-27T11:25:00.003Z

I signed up to this over Christmas. I knew that my marathon training was going to be a lot of lonely miles on the roads, so I thought that running in a race with others might be good. Also, I'd get to train my race routines - packing my bag, pinning my number, hydration and fueling, and dealing with the pre-race jitters!

I was a good girl all weekend - no alcohol even though a friend gently offered me some red wine the evening before when we were hanging out. Early to bed, eating carbs to fill up my depots. I hadn't really run enough the weeks before, since I was ill for five days, and then struggling to get back to normal the next week. To "make up" for it I ran 8km on the Friday and 5 on the Saturday, and my legs were feeling tired. I had a sports massage on the Saturday, something I have been trying to get around to for a while because I am still dealing with some sciatica issues in my left thigh. It felt good, but I could still "feel" my legs Saturday evening. I was getting nervous too.

Into the bag: running shoes! Clothes to run in - pants, bra, top, long sleeved shirt, socks, panties. Towel, toiletries, my ipod with the nike thingie, two fruit bars for the run, wallet and all that stuff.

I got up at around 6.30 to got ready to leave, and decided I would change at the venue. I dressed in jeans and my normal coat, double-checked my bag with the running gear - maybe I should bring my running number and the directions and information on the race?! Maybe I should!

Off I go - it's cold today - and even on the bus from my stop a guy gets on, wearing sky blue track pants, he's doing some sort of exercise today, I think to myself. Surely enough, he gets off at the same stop as me, and as I walk through the train station I notice more and more people wearing running gear, walking the same way as me. At the platform there are people sitting on benches, that are surely going to the same race. I start thinking to myself that I should have changed at home - I'm not going to have time to get ready, oh no! I consider changing in the toilet on the train, but decide that that is just not going to happen!

The procession continues as we arrive into Watford, 10-20-60 people form a long snake walking towards the Colosseum where all is buzzing with runners of all ages and shapes and ethnicities. It feels good, and as I get changed I realise that I am fine for time. I pin my number to my top, and take a moment to take in the feeling in the big hall. People are chattering away, making the last preparations, and there is a definite sense of anticipation in the air. I need to use the toilet again, but the queue for the women's is MASSIVE, so about 15 minutes before race start I start moving towards the start (and the portaloos!). There's a pretty long queue here too, but it's moving. Will I have time to warm up a little more after the toilets? Not really, but I feel ok and do a little stretch against a tree (I like to think that I'm hugging a tree every time I stretch!) before joining the others in the start area.

We're off. I'm feeling good, getting carried in the crowds. The ladies and veteran men start off on their own, and as we join the men after a few hundred meters I'm feeling pretty good about my legs. It's pretty flat now, and people are jostling to find their spot in the crowd; after running along the edges for a while, it thins out and I settle into a rhythm. I select a couple of women running at my pace to be my "targets" - people I measure against and want to stick with during the race and run from in the end, if at all possible. It works really well for me to have them to think about during the long slog.

21km is a long way, and with a couple of hills that didn't catch my eye on the height profile of the race I had moments of "phew, now what?". Running through forest paths and along field lanes has a beauty I don't get on my normal runs. Through my increasingly tired eyes I appreciate the glorious cold of the morning.

I'm overtaken by a girl running fast (too fast?) up a hill - I stick to my pace, I know it'll bring me home. Eventually I pass her in the forest going up a hill, and smile to her, say "come on - keep it up!" and we share a moment of that painful running joy, but she is tired and falls back.

I'm doing well, overtaking a couple of the girls I set my targets on, but the one with the orange jersey is running with a friend, who keeps pushing her ahead.

I'm experimenting with energy supplements, gels, fruit bars and energy drinks along the route. Apart from a slight nausea from the liquid energy in my stomach it's good - every time I take a gel I get a boost to the legs within a minute or two. I save one for the very end - we're back in town and I'm feeling knackered. The blackcurrant fruit bar is making me feel sick and in the end I just have half, but it's enough to keep me going, moving. The orange jersey girl is tiring, I'm struggling but I want to stick with her. Her friend ups the tempo and forces her to keep going - I follow, but after a few minutes I can no more. They set off and I accept that she's going to finish ahead of me.

The last long stretch is dotted with people cheering us on, some have completed the run, others are there to encourage their friends and family. I'm so tired but try to stick to my pace as best I can, and when I touch the final 200m I let it rip - giving it a last sprint I overtake 8-10 guys and a couple of girls, I'm feeling the burn but I can do this!

I did it, and it felt good.

8 days to go till marathon day!

2010-02-27T11:25:00.002Z

Work is keeping me very very busy these days, and I've felt exhausted when I finally got home. My training for the marathon I'm running next week hasn't lived up to my hopes because I've felt drained and tired, and haven't had the extra umpf to go get all the miles in that I need.. I'm a bit disappointed in myself, even though I know that it's not my "fault". This will be my first marathon and I really wanted to do well, to be well prepared and feel a whole lot more secure with my level of fitness and running skills. After putting in all those runs and hours on cold winter days it feels a bit of waste to let it all float so close to the race..

I've felt all along that I can do this, and I know that unless something goes very very wrong on the day I will complete, which is my basic goal. My secondary goal has been to run under 4 hours, and I was hoping that with the right training I might be able to go under 3:45. I've been re-adjusting that - I'd be really happy with anything under 4 hours, but have less hope of 3:45. But I have a feeling that just completing will pretty much make my day :.D

I'm getting nervous about the 42km next Sunday, but have accepted that I will just have to do what I can - that's all I can do! Wow, 8 days to go now!

Wish me luck!

Inside

2010-02-25T21:50:00.003Z

A basketball rests on my window sill, together with stacks of disused ID cards from every step along the way. And a pod that says "Hello, ancient friend!!".

Sometimes I wonder what people make of me when they meet me. They don't know that I've played ball for many years, or that I've lived overseas, or that I have a crazy little friend who's addicted to pods.

The image we present of ourselves to others, coloured by our own perceptions of ourselves, and of others, and of how others see us, only reveals as much as we can and are willing to convey. There will always be an internal knot of *me*, which never sees the light of day. Even allowing people anywhere near that is scary.

Life on the go

2010-02-23T08:31:00.003Z

I feel like I'm being jostled around, a little boat on an unruly sea; weathering the storm, but taking in water. I'm lonely in here. Working as hard as I can, but it never really stacks up. What happened to those quick wins that give encouragement and perspective on a long hard slog? What happened to sharing those passions with someone else? What happened to daring to give a bit of your vulnerable self to someone else?

What happened to me?

Ramping up.

2010-02-06T22:17:00.003Z

Tomorrow at 10.30: 21.1km, no stopping, no hesitating.

Wish me luck. Maybe it'll take my mind off things; I sure could use that.

Love to y'all, my faithful (3?) readers.

Making the connection

2010-01-27T12:28:00.007Z

It was easier, oh - so much easier, to see him as a relative living in a faraway land. Not that he isn't still living far away, but he's becoming so much more to me.

In a more and more insistent manner my family history is pressing itself into my life. Actually, maybe I am seeking it out, becoming more aware of the little signs in my everyday life. Who knows how these things happen.

My family's history has always been something of which I was proud - the diversity, the amazing stories of exotic places, adventures, and survival. My grandparents have lived lives that are inspiring in so many ways, and their stories have never seized to amaze or enthral me. I have listened to endless repetitions of journeys to China that took months, life in suburban Long Island, and once in a rare while second hand stories of those moments that are too tough to be spoken by those who experienced them.

The history that has been nearing my consciousness is the life of my maternal grandfather. Granpa's is perhaps the most difficult to deal with and understand, and I have a feeling that the signs I have been sensing over the last while are sparking some kind of consciousness within me, pushing me to, if not be able to understand, then at least reflect on the importance his life holds over mine.

Since moving to the UK three and a half years ago I have learned of a distant relative. I am sure my mother or aunts have spoken of her before, but she never registered in my world until my mom arranged for her to meet up with the whole family, who had come to London to visit me. She seemed lovely, a bit feisty, and certainly a very self-confident woman who rested in an awareness of herself. I was going through personal issues at the time, and was in no way interested in taking up her friendly offer of coming to stay with her in Devon. "What, me, visit some woman I've just met in the middle of nowhere? I don't think so. I don't care that she sees some obscure family link. Besides, I'm upset and confused and hurting right now."

Over a year later my mom came to visit and arranged for us to go to Devon to see her in the countryside. It was lovely. I then realised that my mom's side of the family are her only surviving family. My grandfather's cousin was her mother, which I think means that she is my second cousin once removed. The vast majority of her family succumbed during the second world war, which makes sense. So did most of my Granpa's. This link is seemingly obvious but never the less to me this link was hard to make initially. She is family. I just didn't know her.

We had a lovely time, and I have stayed in touch with her since, visiting her a couple of times. I like to think that we are building a warm relationship. I appreciate her a lot. I even dreamt of her and my granpa recently. Since then I have finally managed to join her for a meeting of the group of second generation holocaust survivors she attends. I snuck in as a third generation, as I had been hoping to over the last year.

Two days later Granpa had a stroke. The frequency of connections made in my head to my grandfather and to the hardships he has endured are becoming denser. I wonder if it's because I am "ready" now to deal with this now, or it is because he is getting older. Or because the very presence of her in my life is a reminder of the preciousness of family ties, and she sees the connection between the holocaust and our family's development. It's horrific to finally be opening up to realities my grandfather faced, only to realise how vulnerable and fragile the memory of it is in his hard worn body. Who will know his hardships when he has passed?

Today is Holocaust Memorial day. I have never observed this before, but it strikes me and strengthens my feeling that I am pursuing something of great importance to me. My family history. A history that reaches beyond me and you, and touches on something deeper in all of us. I'm sorry to say it, but it's love, darling, and hope.

Family matters

2010-01-18T22:00:00.007Z

It's as though I've reached the cusp of this long dark slog, nearing what seemed to be an airy, bright time. But an ominous dark is spreading throughout, grey and laden with tears.

My grandfather has had a stroke. He lives on the other side of the ocean, overseas and over land. He lives yet. He has taken his numerous sets of pills many times daily for many years now, it's hardly a shock that something more serious has happened. His body is old, and worn out with working long, hard hard hours; some for others under force, others for his family. Life as a labourer takes its toll. Life as a persecuted man, however young and strong he was, has taken its toll. My grandfather is a large man. His body is hard, even where roundness has added to his bulk. His legs carry him still, but every step he takes is so painful he winces. It's been like this for years, but slowly the decline is reaching new lows.

His daughters are there, with each their own burdens to carry, each bringing a bit of misery and a lot of love. They congregate as his broad frame feels frail, distraught, heavy.

And I am far away, finally beginning to realise the importance of roots, the depth of lives lived, and the impact of our history on our lives. And there is nothing I can do.

2010?

2009-12-28T09:45:00.002Z

★ LIBRA 23 September-23 October What a bundle of contradictions is a Libran: pushy but eager to please; shrewd but oddly indecisive. This is the sign of the well-dressed charmer with a hidden agenda – not you, obviously, but those other, dark side Librans. You just do charm.

In 2010, what counts is not your easy smile but your inner steel. With Saturn dominating your horoscope for most of the year, it's a time for tough, long-term decisions, for ambition tempered by pragmatism.

Even among non-astrologers, Saturn has a weighty reputation; it's the planet of age, maturity, responsibility and hard work. In a related guise Saturn is about exactitude and turning a bright idea into reality; it represents the patience and persistence that allows masterworks to be written and cathedrals to be raised. Such projects invariably demand rather more effort than we anticipate, but once completed, become defining achievements.

Plan the new year with that perspective in mind. Indeed, since Saturn is resident in your skies right through to, gulp, October 2012, it's a perfect time for a major undertaking; restoring your mansion, founding a company, becoming prime minister (take note David Cameron, born 9/10/66) or casting the Ring of Power into the fires of Mount Doom. Prioritise ruthlessly and stick to your chosen quest.

Until April, it's birthdays between 23 to 28 September (and 1980 Librans) who feel Saturn's touch. From September onwards, the rest of the Libran tribe are in the frame, especially 1981 birthdays who complete one cycle of Saturn's 30-year orbit (the well-noted "Saturn Return").

Relationships that require commitment or closure also come under Saturn's remit. Here, August looks pivotal. The duo of Mars and Venus (your ruler) in your skies lend a forceful, magnetic touch for either finding or consummating a romance. July and August are – not just for Librans – a potentially incendiary phase; keep your cool with friends, family and partners. Show grace under pressure.

February promises enchantment in your personal life, whether you're collecting Valentines or rekindling old flames. The unusual movements of Mars (your partnership planet, whether in love or business) make the first five months of 2010 ideal for networking, mixing business and pleasure, or changing your favoured in-crowd. October and November, with Venus in retreat, is a time for adjusting finances and having second thoughts about decisions made in the summer.

Other people are invariably vital to Libra's mission, but part of Saturn's message is that when push comes to shove, no one helps you but yourself. Take a sidekick shopping to help choose the right colour ("I should have got the blue") but the big decisions should be taken alone.

Year's end

2009-12-17T08:04:00.006Z

Back in London the frost is biting the little skin I allow to be exposed to the air. It's clear. Cold. Sunrise is the most amazing time of day: at around 8am the skies finally relent to the meek sun and pink hues colour the distance while a blood red sun slowly lifts its head. My 9th floor flat does have some benefits that go a (little) way to make up for the current lack of heating.

I'm going home for the holidays on Monday.

This year is ending with what feels like a sense of conclusion. I can sense a lot of reflection being pushed ahead - "I'll think when I've got time", seems to be the way. Knowing myself this will happen in the little thatched house in the bosom of my family between Christmas and New Year's with cold walks in a foggy, barren forest, talking to myself, the horses by the forest ranger's house, the dunes, the gnarly trees in the "troll forest", the sea. And so I keep on going on. Year's end always has this effect on me, but where I last year was confused and worried, I am now ready to take a look back at a year of changes and achievements, pleasures and confusion, worry and hope. You'll all be in those thoughts. My friends drive me forward, reflecting with me on our thoughts, giving me perspectives to consider, hoping with me, and worrying with me.

So, to all - happy holidays. I shall be thinking of you over the next weeks, with a smile on my lips.

M

Off I go!

2009-12-01T20:53:00.002Z

Me, tomorrow, India, wedding! Very exciting!

Take care y'all, I'm off to get me a bindi, a sari, and a couple of proper curry meals.

Will be back mid Dec.

M

Doodling

2009-11-26T00:11:00.003Z

I'm doodling about with a project. I should be packing, I'm going home tomorrow. Home, as in, the home I don't live in. But I'm excited - it's about cities, it's what I want to do.. It's Elemental.

More to follow.

Autumn dreams

2009-11-22T09:46:00.004Z

Great big mounds of sand, light and fine. We're underground. I clamber to the cusp of the dunes and see the finest grains start trickling down the other side. My link to history is there. She looks at me from below, near her vehicle. The trickle of sand start to increase in volume, soon the whole surface is moving, sliding slowly, slowly down towards her. I stand there, calling to her, as the sand starts to settle around her and the vehicle - I can't see her any more! The vehicle is engulfed, a deepening of the sand where it is. What's happening - is she ok?

I'm in an underground space, ceiling above me grey and darkening. Lockers like those in a high school, but no, not exactly like that, stand in a corner of the vast space. She is here with me. I open a creaky door by unhooking a basic lock device. Fine sand lays in small dunes along the edges of the space, covering the edges of a big portfolio. I reach in and lift it out, balancing the handwritten notes inside carefully to the table. As I start to leaf through it I hear sounds, it's war out there beyond the walls. I hear something - he's coming, and I am both excited and ashamed to be going through these memories. Suddenly she and I look at each other and I hastily try to replace the portfolio in the locker, shutting the door loudly, engaging the locking device - it's not working now - oh no! He's in the room, large and frail. It's ok. He looks at me with the deepest clarity in his eyes, and I see him for the man he once was. I disengage the lock on the locker again and replace the portfolio on the table.

Marathon

2009-11-21T10:16:00.004Z

A while back I committed to running the Barcelona Marathon on 7th March 2010. It sort of happened by itself.

My running buddy D, who was a friend of a friend and who decided that we should run together despite me hesitating, is from Girona. When we started running together nearly a year ago now, he lived 15 minutes away and we were both unemployed, and so it was easy to do. He was training for the 2009 version of the marathon and went on to successfully run it, in March last year. He kept challenging me to join him, or to consider another marathon, saying stuff like - you need to run a marathon, you're competitive, you ARE competitive.. as I would stress the fact that I took up running as a means to liberating myself from competition with (team)mates and to create a space where I could just be, just run.

I still see my running as a free space, but I am beginning to lump it into the "things I need to do" category, merely because it wouldn't otherwise happen, between travelling and working and doing various other projects.

I ran a couple of races this summer, enjoying myself along the way, and in particular my half marathon is something I'm very proud of. I ran those races for the sheer fun of it, to prove to myself that I, just me - ME!, could do it. And I did. I ran them all alone and achieved the results I wanted: satisfactory timings and a sense of pride and contentedness.

When D moved back to Girona this summer, I knew I was going to miss our running together, but also what had turned into a warm friendship. Him being a sports therapist, he would treat me for my sciatica, and I'd help him work on the website for his business. He'd make dinner, and we'd go for drinks, talking running and all the other stuff that happens in life. He became a good friend. So when he went back, the possibility of seeing him again in March to run together made so much sense that I said I'd do it. So now I am. And I've even been telling other people (even people at work, you fool!) that I'm going to go and I'm going to run it. It scares me to no end.

My main worries are these:

I won't take the time to train properly
I might have troubles with my sciatica (I need to have some treatment..)
I have no clue of proper marathon nutrition/hydration
My commitment isn't strong enough and I will waver

I'm excited too. This is what gets me going:

I'm going to bloody run a marathon!
I get to visit D in his home town
I get to run a marathon, my first, with D
If I can complete my training satisfactorily I'm sure I'll do great
The training will keep me fit and healthy

I haven't begun training properly, and as a matter of fact, I haven't been running as much as I usually would. I've just started a new job and a lot's going on in my life right now. So, this week I realised that there is not much more than 3 months to go, and I need to get me a running programme that I can then proceed to adjust, but at least I'll have one. I know for a fact that with my long hours at work it is difficult but possible to squeeze in runs, by taking TOIL in the morning, which I've been doing recently, and by going for a run before breakfast when away for conferences.

I've done the maths, and I've got 15 weeks from now to then. That's 3 months and 2 weeks. In the next month I'm going to India for 12 days (what am I going to do?! Can I run in 33 degrees?), and I'm going home for Christmas (the food will pose a challenge, but I did great with running last year so that might be ok). 15 weeks is about 3 weeks shorter than most marathon programmes will cover. I'm hoping that the fact that I've been running for well over a year (started properly in July of last year) will be a benefit.

This is going to be a (yet another) challenge over the next months.

I think I've delved enough into this for now, but will just share a sentence from a book I might need to buy:

"Marathoners battle the fiercest of foes: their own psyches".

status quo

2009-11-21T00:10:00.004Z

We had wine and we had good times. It's remarkable how family members are so familiar, comfortable, easy, and at the same time so remote and self contained.

Most of the time I feel that I understand exactly what's going on, but then she heads off on some tangent (much like I have a tendency to do) and I sit, shaking my head and thinking, shit, I don't get this - what's she on about?!

But life moves.

It's an unsettling feeling to see someone you love in a place that you know she doesn't need to be in, somewhere that doesn't do her good. It makes her money, good money, it keeps her from thinking about all the things that would pop up if she were to stop op and give her life a thorough once-over. But it's hard work, life happens, and she justifies it happening to her by saying that she is making a choice to earn the good money (and she is) and ignoring the fact that she's, well, ignoring.

Sometimes I wish I didn't have this ability to see other people struggling. That I could also ignore and just get on with it.

A whirlwind brings me home, too fast, I wish I could stay on my bike, feeling the cold air, and hearing people look at me. The cherry trees are blooming, it's very confusing, here in late November. Buses and taxis flow by in a steady continuum, young girls show their belonging to different social arenas. Some flash all they've got in shiny sequined, skin tight, mini-what evers, others cover up in woollens from the 70s and wear the trilby, sign extraordinaire of a middle-class twat.

And I go home.

When serious things come a bit too close

2009-10-27T22:29:00.004Z

This evening I was returning from a design training in Bristol. We worked with several groups of young people, one of which was a group of 5 boys from a challenged school. They were pretty disruptive to each other and the rest of the groups, but their responsible adult kept stressing that they were very well-behaved for kids from their school. Apparently Bristol's a pretty harsh place in certain areas.

Settling into my seat on the train back to London my eye caught a headline about ..youths.. shooting.. London.. I thought to myself, oh, another one. Then I looked a bit closer and saw Stoke Newington in there. I flipped to page 11 and there was the name of my road in the text, a description of the boys that always hang out around my tower block, and a mention of the community centre that's nearly always closed and looks so sad with it's windows barred for protection.

3 young people have, while I was away, been shot just moments and meters away from my front door. My flatmate was home, and just like everyone else, he assumed the bangs were just the ubiquitous fireworks, and the group of kids just the kids that always hang out a the foot of our building. He didn't realise that 3 14-15 year old kids had been shot by a rival gang.

It's a bit scary, really. I've noticed lately that something's going on with the kids. There's been more of them, more often. And there has been more police presence on the estate, too, in the form of officers slowly patrolling the area, but certainly also in police vans chasing kids on scooters (only to get caught up by the lovely 60s urban design of the estate). This didn't happen when I first moved here a year and a half ago. I stopped a couple of officers on patrol just the other day to ask why there seemed to be more police, and they told me that they were just establishing a presence in the area in response to the young people here, nothing to worry about, ma'am.

Yeah, right.

What kind of places are we living in, where children have access to guns and shoot each other? And why the heck am I living in the middle of it all? And why is nothing being done to the physical, emotional, social and financial deprivation of my estate and of others around the country? Estates that encourage and enable behaviour that is not for the best of the community. Estates that do not inspire people to dream that their lives could be different of the lives of their parents, estates that are not legible, not accessible, not fit for purpose. Estates that have been built in one fell swoop, or estates that have developed piecemeal to a hodgepodge of disconnected spaces, linked by a series of non-places. No, I don't mean the Marc Augé ones; I'm on about the appallingly unpersonal and unwelcoming concrete leftover spaces that incompetent planners and designers failed to address in an appropriate manner. I'm talking about seedy concreted spaces that are fenced in and used for littering, broken curbs, a horrid back alley used for parking and dumping of all sorts of garbage and large household furnisings, narrow and poorly lit alleys and walkways, derelict green spaces, etc etc. Just outside my front door, and so many other people's.

As ever, my dear two readers, I hope you're doing well. Today I'll add in another hope - that you are and will remain far removed from gun-toting, balaclava-wearing kids on bikes.

From 0 to 100

2009-10-16T08:08:00.008+01:00

I'm hoping that that tickling at the back of my throat isn't what it feels like.. I really don't have time to get sick these days. The next two weeks are action packed like none have been recently (and the last two have been mad enough).

Next week I'm going away for a network meeting all of Tuesday, to hear what they're on about, tell them about my charity, and hopefully to scope some professionals that we can rope in for our project support and training. Then Wednesday I'm off to Exeter for a project support scoping visit with a potential group, Thursday's a conference that I'm doing some workshops at, and Friday's another scoping visit, this time with a group that wants to do an off-grid learning centre out in nature somewhere in Dorset.

Then Saturday is the Nike+ Human Race (10K with Sara in Victoria Park), and Sunday I head up to Bristol for the young people's design training that is Monday through Tuesday. Thursday I go on holiday for a few days. Phew. The TOIL I'm accruing will be massive...

Someone, tell me that it's all going to go to plan. I've got SO much to do before then that it's unbelievable. I obviously need to prepare bits and bobs for each of these events. Shoot, I need to sleep too!

BUT. It's exciting, extremely relevant, and I want to do it all.

I need to get me some oranges, drink me some tea and keep wrapping up in wool.

London learning, over and out.

Ode to Saga

2009-10-08T20:46:00.007+01:00

The seasons are changing. I keep repeating that to everyone, but foremost myself. It's clear; the air nips at my chin if I don't keep it tucked into my scarf, and full days of rain remind me that my outerwear is not water proof. Clear skies shift and are replaced with a lucid cover of greys. Soft and mellow anticipation of blustering winds comes and goes with the arrival of gust lifting surprisingly long strands of hair into the air, like antennae.

Shifting into a space that is open and inviting, however challenging, maybe inviting because it is challenging, challenging because it is open. Engaging seems just ahead.

___

Sometimes you meet people and they make an impression. Sometimes you meet people and they hardly register as a blip on your radar. Sometimes the briefest of encounters stay with you forever, and occasionally a seemingly meaningless meeting turns into something of longevity.

Out of two potential relations, what then makes one relationship last, and another falter? How can maintaining a relationship with someone on the other side of the world come so much more naturally than staying in touch with someone just up the street?

___

It's all about movement, now. And daring. Moving, and daring.

August

2009-08-01T08:23:00.005+01:00

Can't believe that today is August 6th. This year is just cruisin' by, days falling from the calendar like nothing. So much has been going on that I have had little time, let alone mental capacity, for anything 'extra-curricular' such as blogging..

I started getting paid 15 June for 2 days work in the charity I've been volunteering in, but have been unsuccessful in securing a permanent job with them - twice.. It's weird, cause they express that they really like me, but in the end I don't get the jobs. They have been talking about how the jobs were perhaps not thte right thing for me (not challenging enough over time). I can't help but feel that perhaps that should be up to me, but on the other hand, their choices have led me to the position I'm in now, where I just last Wednesday started my new temporary 3 day weekly consultancy position in a charity that works to support and train community groups to engage in their local area. I'm covering both (temporary) positions at the same time over the next month(s?), and am learning to manage to engage my mind where I am and to manage my time well.

I started a healthy living programme early April, and have through that gained a hold on my eating, more or less. I've got aims for my nutritional values, and have lost about 5kg and 8cm off my hips. It takes energy to track all the food I eat, but it's proving really useful to me and I'm learning loads about nutrition along the way. It's funny, 'cause my mom has always had a strong focus on it, especially for us kids, but understanding portion sizes and what's right for ME, now that's another story. Now I aim to snack throughout my working day and to eat sturdy meals that will provide me with slow releasing energy that'll last me till my next meal. I feel like I'm eating all the time (and I am!) but I'm getting so many less calories onboard, and they're of the right kind for me right now. For my snacks I eat fruit, nuts, drink a little smoothie, a couple of healthy biscuits, roasted soy nuts etc.

I went to Denmark for a little week for a bit of a holiday and a wonderful hen night for a close friend.

My 'favourite aunt' who used to visit us when I was a child came for a 4-day visit in London with her two gorgeous kids.

4 friends visited me in London for 4 days.

My friend got married July 12th in a beautiful Jewish ceremony, in a handsome old Hall in the countryside. (All the many preparations paid off, I got the bridal bouquet in the end, haha! Who knows where this will lead!?)

I ran my first half-marathon on July 19th in the time 1:48:29.

Phew..

Now for the next slew of activity.. I'm going to Denmark for another hen night for a friend this weekend, and then again a couple of weeks later for the actual wedding. After that it seems that things will become more stable. Unless I keep it all in overly dynamic motion, that is.

All along, I'm still trying to navigate a fragile mind... However great advances I feel I'm making, I just keep encountering more and more sore spots in there, tender to the touch.. brittle. I tend to leave them alone, to the degree that I don't acknowledge them in my conscious mind, yet they continue to pop up now and again only to be battered aside. I think it's time to start holding them out in front of myself. Examine them. Deal.

Regent's Park 10km race

2009-06-09T23:23:00.002+01:00

Yay! Just ran my first properly timed 10k race this Saturday and I'm well pleased with the results! After having a fairly bumpy ride this year with injuries and a bit of illness topped off with 3 weeks of no running at all due to sciatica I managed to pull a sub 50 min result out of the hat! :D

I'm going to hit that 45 min mark this year!

Race report: Regent's Park 10k Summer Series

I made sure I got an early night the night before, and that I had plenty of carbs and all the good, healthy stuff the night before (including a bit of ice cream to make sure I was comfortable, hehe). It was drizzling outside as I had my bran flakes / banana breakfast, and I wasn't sure my chosen outfit of a t-shirt was really a good idea.. I decided to go with it and left the house, only to get fairly wet by the rain on my way to the bus stop.. was this going to work out?!

I arrived at Regent's Park at 8.45, 15 mins to go till the start - hurry up! Power walked to the Hub, got changed, left my bag, power walked to the start.. It's still drizzling heavily.. Off goes the start! Oh no, my ipod's not on, fumbling with it.. man! I'm running too fast.. Get caught up by the moment - all these people running faster than me! After 1.5k I settle into a stable pace, although still faster than normal.. This is going fine, the drizzle's ok too. There's a woman running around my pace, I'll stick to her.. First lap of three in 16.30, this is fine.. Lap two was nice and easy, still a bit wet, but nothing much to worry about, I keep my pace. There's people taking photos - this is fun! I like racing! The last lap is here - I feel my legs getting a bit tired, but halfway through I can see the end - and decide to up my pace a bit to see how many people I can pass. I pass a guy with a t-shirt saying "Only a fool believes there's no God - don't be silly" thinking well, agnostics apparently run faster, I'll take the sillyness any day... The last two corners - I'm running faster - I'm going to catch this guy - no, he sees me, looks and takes off - he's gone like an antilope that's being chased. The last stretch - I push myself, gotta beat that girl, check - beat that one, check! Finish! Ahh.... this was fun!

Walk to the Hub again, grab a banana and some water and think to myself that I really need to race more.

Just went over the final results, and saw that I came better than 25 out of 228 on the women's side and better than 140 out of the 443 total - wow! That rocks!

A job?

2009-06-05T20:37:00.004+01:00

Sort of.

I've been volunteering with a charity over the last 2 months, and as a paid position to do exactly what I do as an un-paid volunteer came up, I applied. I got shortlisted, and had an interview, and came second. I didn't get the job, and if I had been writing this yesterday, when I was told I didn't get it, I would undoubtedly have included a much greater amount of disappointment and surly comments. However, even though I was disappointed, I thought a lot about it last night and I realised that maybe it was fine. Decided to take it in my stride, be normal at work, get over myself and my big ego and the assumptions I had unconsciously developed of getting the job because the function covers what I'm doing now and they seem to like what I do.

Another position with the same organisation has come up, as a fundraiser, and I might actually want that job more..? I decided to shift my workload from doing just one day of fundraising to now two a week, whilst retaining my engagement as a facilitator, which was what I was taken onboard to do. After arranging this, at the end of the day, the director asked me aside and offered me a %-paid position.. I'll still be volunteering (I have another month to go) and will increase my hours from 4 to 5 days. The major change is that they will now pay me for 2 days work a week as an interim thing until I either get the fundraising position or my volunteer term comes to an end, at which point I'm sure we'd have a chat about what next. It's really pleasing that they like what I'm doing so much, 'cause really, they didn't actually have to pay for me to stay as I've committed to another month anyway.

This will sound horrible (it does to me!) but before I can actually commit to this new paid position I have to look into what it will mean to the benefits I am currently receiving. If it means I loose more than I will be earning.. well, I'll have to look into how to deal with that. THIS is the trouble of benefits. Hopefully sanity will prevail and it'll be best if I take the job.

Phew, that felt good to write out!

trial and error

2009-05-11T21:38:00.003+01:00

"To avoid situations in which you might make mistakes may be the biggest mistake of all."
- Peter McWilliams

Although a rudimentary google search reveals that the quote above is by what seems to be a relatively 'low-end' self-help guru this may be one of the biggest truths that I ought to listen to these days. For the sake of the argument, let's just disregard this quote in relation to my weakening resolve to my current weight-adjustment actions and think about it in a bigger perspective.

As my vertically challenged friend pointed out to me - does this mean that one should not avoid situations where knows that mistakes will be made? Cue the 'might' in the quote. It indicates an uncertainty about the future. It indicates avoiding risk taking, avoiding trying things out, avoidance of living life. It's so banal when I write it like that, but, at least to me, it holds a pretty deep truth. I do avoid things that are scary to me, situations where I feel that I cannot predict what will happen. And this despite the fact that I obviously can absolutely never predict what will happen. We live in a world where most of the things that happen are beyond our control. We naturally have a fairly great impact on our existence, but we are all at the mercy of each other, and the place we hold is subject to the actions of others and the effects these actions have on ourselves and our reactions to these actions. The free flow into which we plunge ourselves every day drifts along, and we can labor to make a mark or we can flow, following the patterned path laid out for us.

Making a mark requires risk taking, this much I have learned.

How's that for a thought?

2009-05-08T08:26:00.003+01:00

"Worry is the darkroom in which negatives are developed."

Enough of that already. On to brighter things. Opportunities are developing, and although they are exciting and fascinating, I still worry whether they are achievable, whether I dare pursue them, if it's for me..

Just went for a run this morning - feels good to get my act together. Just 4k, but that's ok. I'll go for a longer one (or two) over the weekend. Should stop being annoyed at my self for not going out running.

Musings

2009-05-05T22:24:00.005+01:00

When things start coming together and it seems the clouds are parting

Why do I fear that the breeze that carries me along gently now

Will turn into a storm, weighing me down, again, so heavily?

___

A drink on a hilltop, and everything's changed in an afternoon. We laughed for hours, before turning serious. Slightly intoxicated by the wine, and even more so by a tickling sensation of someone who understands. Open minds are allowed, and seem to feed on the skyline on the horizon, and a girl on a tightrope laughs as she aims for the tree at the end of the line.

The power of positive thinking

2009-04-29T22:30:00.003+01:00

So, I went to this taster course for becoming a life coach, during the weekend. It was really very interesting, and it's funny how having someone to be accountable to can make us do things we wouldn't usually feel compelled to. I'll for sure be trying to apply some of the thought patterns to myself.

Positive thinking, for one, is extremely useful. Who doesn't beat themselves up for making a mistake or 'the wrong choice'..? I certainly do, even though I know it's neither helpful nor healthy to do so.

A bit of objectivity might be useful too, instead of becoming entirely engrossed in some obscure detail that seems so important to me right now. Taking that step back and reflecting on the issue.

Actually creating an 'action plan' for those things that all to often lurk at the back of my mind is also one that I'm going to try on for size. I've done that before, but with my new awareness of the importance of breaking it down into small, accessible and doable bits might actually mean that I'll follow through!

So yep, it's yet another addition to the list of 'things that'll save me'. I'm liking it.

Running

2009-04-19T18:06:00.003+01:00

Lately I haven't been running a lot, and I have gone through phases of enjoying it, missing it and really being annoyed that I couldn't just go run!

My back has been causing me issues, and my running buddy, the sportstherapist, says it's probably due to me stopping with the diversity of movemenets my body was used to through basketball, and replacing it with an exercise that is basically just body straight up and legs moving. I've been doing core stability exercises for the back (boring but I can already feel an improvement), being treated with massage and stretches and basically been lazy.

But I'm starting up again - and it feels great! Just went 12 km today in lovely mild sunshine, through streets dotted with pink petals dropping from the flowering trees, Clissold Park and Finsbury Park, where a summer fair was getting all the kids excited. Nice! I wasn't even sure I'd go all the way to Finsbury Park (basically indicating that I'd just go 4-6km in my local park), but the nice weather and feeling that my legs were good and my back not ailing me encouraged me to go a bit farther!

I've lowered my ambitions for this month as I haven't been able to get out there the first half of the month. I've got 10 days to do 45 kilometres, that should be possible with a little bit of willpower..

All smiles here - and sending my love to y'all.

the infamous: work/life

2009-04-13T13:16:00.005+01:00

And so it arrives, the time I've been asking for, dreading, expecting. Where I am no longer free to avail myself of all my time (apart from the fact that we of course all every day, every moment, choose what we do with our time) as I tomorrow will be back doing my internship. My massive influx of visitors is over (4 visits in 5 weekends) and it's back to being just me. I have this sense of fear of and soothing comfort from the well-known - fear that I'll settle into this easy thing of knowing what I'm going to do all the time - comfort in exactly the same.

I'm an animal of habit that loathes habit. It makes life easier, but I always tend to feel that I loose something in it. Spontaneity, passion, living every day instead of just passing through it. Maybe it's a case of ensuring that you care about what you do (but isn't that difficult with boring database work?), so that you retain a freshness and newness? Maybe I need to accept that if I ever want to get anywhere's near the freedom to roam life day by day I'll have to learn how to manage myself and my time, and I'll probably have to learn that in a way I don't find extremely inspiring. Hence the day-to-day menial tasks.

So if I'm an animal of habit that loathes habit does that then mean that I loathe myself? I think it means I need to construe some sort of life that'll allow me to have a norm that I generally follow, but also the opportunity to shake it up and go on adventures in my everyday life and work.

How do you guys deal with this? Does it ever get boring? Any thoughts are welcome!

Chronic?

2009-04-10T17:52:00.001+01:00

Just as the clouds were parting, I went and stirred up a bit of humidity, forcing the cover back.

Why can't I just have fun and not be so goddamn serious all the time?

Back to work

2009-04-07T21:44:00.004+01:00

Here, in between an abundance of visits, I have managed to secure an internship that started today!

It's with an educational charity and people seem really down to earth and casual. It seems that I can influence what I will be doing. I expressed interest in sustainability and in developing educational material and 10 minutes later I was invited to take part in a meeting on Thursday developing educational material on climate change! Cool!

I think there'll be a fair deal of admin regarding the online website, but that's ok, I don't have much experience with online stuff like that. Yeah, so, I'm feeling good about this, although somehow I was hoping for a charity that was more closely related to my core aims. It'll do for now.

Link - family stories

2009-03-30T18:25:00.001+01:00

An amusing link that somehow reminds me of when my mom with a laugh says 'let's hav sum kwa-fee!' in a thick new-yorkan accent, reminiscing the time she lived there with her parents. In a modest light blue house, in West Islip on Long Island, with apple and plum trees in the well-kept garden laden with heavy vegetables resulting from the labour of my grandfather, and thick beige carpets and dark wood furniture, lace curtains and a little collection of jewellery and other trinkets my grandmother had found on the way to work in the cafeteria at a local school.

The stairs led up and doubled back on themselves, turning the corner to the children's section; two smallish rooms filled with the wonder of memories of my mother and her sisters' lives as children, in a dusty, heavy air somehow permeating the house even though my grandmother went to great extents to keep the house airy and clean. That was before she fell ill, of course, before her diabetes and other ailings made her bed-ridden, before they sold the house and moved away from her beloved ocean. Before she passed away.

In her childhood space, the story of how my mother as a child collected baseball cards with gold markings emblazoning Joe DiMaggio and all the other heroes of that time spilled from her lips in an impassioned whisper, the story of a treasure collected and expanded over years and years and stored in a shoe box in the depth of her room. Once, when my mother returned as a grown woman, the shoe box was no longer there and it had been given to the son of family friend.

My grandfather would take me shopping, we got into the car and turned down the quiet suburban street and the local mall of shops would appear, one-storey buildings along a way too wide road. Or we would go to the large supermarkets to buy dinner, to buy the few things that my grandmother would eat, after her operation. No cheese, not even on a pizza. And still, she'd pick at what was on her plate, seemingly not interested but knowing that she should, she really should.

White and blacks and primary colours were restricted in the paintings my grandfather produced, an extreme geometric tightness of circles and squares in harmonious compositions. Grandma painted in naturalistic style, soft, warm, intense colours, and often with the seagulls that for her personified freedom and liberty. She painted my mother on several occasions, and on one occasion she let me bring home with me a painting of a woman in a green dress, seated in a warm orange and red tableau with a cup on a table. My mom wasn't sure, but it is a picture of her. Grandma has included some of my mom's facial features, and to me there can be no doubt. Grandpa wrapped it in bubble foam, one, two, three layers, wrapped it in brown paper card and secured it with a coarse string, holding the painting in its wrapping and providing a well-thought handle for the long transportation across the ocean to its new home.

They would sometimes go to the sea promenade, with grandma painting and both selling their paintings, or so my mom has told me. I can just imagine them in the crisp sunshine, carefully crafted paintings in hand, near the sea, seagulls soaring over their heads as they gently speak to people browsing their paintings. Grandpa does the negotiating while grandma, perhaps, simply continues painting.

Paid my dues..?

2009-03-30T15:33:00.004+01:00

I've had it on my list of things to do for a long while now. Somehow, it just didn't seem like the most attractive of to-do-things, but at the same time, it's sort of one of those that you can't keep putting off.

Seeking Jobseeker's Allowance. I.e. going on the dole.

Actually the woman was ok, she was neutral and helpful when I didn't know the answers to the gargantuan number of questions. What did make me realise with some severity and actually make me feel more down than up was around 50 questions on any potential sources of income. Answering "no" again and again made me feel really, really rubbish. And now here I am, with an appointment to go talk to someone at a JobCentre for an interview about my jobseeking approach or whatever it is they need to know.. I'm feeling plain busted after an hour of that...! Amazing that I have an appointment already tomorrow - I sort of expected them to take a week or two to sort that out.

So. It has come to this.

Running update

2009-03-18T09:08:00.004Z

As is painfully visible from the gadget on the right (--->), I haven't been running nearly as much as I'd like to this month. That's not to say that I haven't been far behind on my monthly amount before and still made it, but this month it's been different.

I've had troubles with my old shoes, Nike ones, and decided it was time for some new runners. I wanted to have a gait analysis to ensure I got shoes that are right for my running style and feet, so that took a while to get done too, all the while I had slowed down my running a lot. I finally did got my act together to have the analysis done by a very apt professional and then had to decide on going for the top of the range model or the 'one step down' model that he suggested to me, because they didn't stock the more expensive one. So I went to other stores, trying to find the other model in my size and never managed, and in the end I ordered it online anyway. This process took a fair few days during which I did not run much. End of it all is that I'm now running in Asics Kayano 15's, and I'm liking it.

Although, of course, I then got sick and have only been out twice in my new shoes. 2009 hasn't been a great year for running so far, what with my fainting-induced concussion in January, shoe-woes in February and a mild but prolonged bout of illness in March. I hope this isn't going to be the norm for 2009!

on loneliness

2009-03-17T21:10:00.005Z

One thing that I am realising is that cyclical experiences and movements define my life. I'm sure it's the same for everyone, but let's just for a moment allow me to keep focus on me. Right.

Cyclical. Round and around, passing through the same emotions of hope and disappointment, love and loneliness. I think I'm arriving at the space that people have lately been asking if I was at. A lonely place, a faraway place, a place where days are long and I rarely utter words to people I know. A place where having no deadlines or set times for meeting with people leaves a malleable void that is just so. The walls may be tested now and again, but there are no breakthroughs. And the dominant experience is loneliness. Not just the emotional and mental loneliness that I have (oi vay!) become used to and am working on accepting, but a physical loneliness, suspended in which I crave a physical, bodily touch and contact. A hug from a friend. A squeeze of the arm, a kiss... Contact through a screen gives an intellectual and in some ways emotional connection, but not the bodily aspect. Maybe I should start playing ball again, although the others might get the wrong idea. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should leave my comfort zone once again, pursuing hopes. And maybe I'll end up disappointed once again in this same place of me, me, me.

Forgive my glumness, but it strikes me with clarity today how easily we fool ourselves into leading lives that do not, and will never, grant us what we hunger for. In my case, searching inward on a quest for knowledge and experience of myself, when what I perhaps need to do is to find that knowledge through and with someone else.

---

A good thing coming from all this is that I've recently been exploring more creative endeavours. I've finally constructed a pinhole camera from a set I was given over half a year ago and have taken a few photos, and am dabbling with all sorts of media, digital and physical. Perhaps, if some of them turn out well I can share them with you at a later point. I have a much greater degree of freedom in my art these days, sort of "oh, I don't care!", something I have always lacked. Maybe one day I'll become 'liberated' and can be able to express myself the way I'd like to.

..Speaking of Danish poets..

2009-03-11T21:03:00.001Z

... here's a really sweet short animated movie about a Danish poet. It won the Oscar in 2007 for best short subjects animation.

Enjoy!

Something in the air

2009-03-09T13:59:00.004Z

The Danish national poet, or at least one that you'd have a very hard time not knowing about if you lived in Denmark, Klaus Rifbjerg has published yet another book. Was reading a review today and fell over this quotation from one of the poems:

Man må ha en skid på for at
klare ensomheden
den anden marts

...which translates something like this:

You've gotta be sozzled to
handle loneliness
on March 2nd

Which is why I too have embarked on a form of escape (not the one at the bottom of a bottle) in this reverberating space, where spring all but sings in the air, warmer and warmer still, the cherries blossoming, and around me couples look deeply into each others eyes with that passionate longing you have for something you've already got.

Me? I go running, I go out with friends, drinking and dancing till morning, I write down thoughts on who I think I thought I imagined I was and am. And there's a spring to my step as well.

Sej - Yappari

2009-03-06T08:37:00.005Z

Although I haven't the faintest what this is about I find it remarkably soothing. Kyoko Hosono is a Japanese classical pianist who has branched into more contemporary music with the ensemble Xinowa Sej. Here are a few more snippets of her music.

I'm finding that I take a lot greater interest in music these days. I listen to music al the time when I'm at home, and my trusty little silver ipod brings the music along with me when I'm out and about. In some ways I feel that it's about creating a world of my own, one that I can float around in to the tunes I select. Somehow, the term "soundtrack of my life" seems very appropriate. And in this case, my life is turning fairly jazzy these days, jazzy and electronic and just a wee bit.. well, I don't know what to call it, but check these out: the Fleet Foxes. I keep coming across new bands, and have no time to pursue them all. But I like it.

2009-03-05T17:21:00.001Z

So here goes again.

Once more the hope of something that might be, and something that, if past history is anything to go by, won't be.

When did I turn into the pessimist in this show?

.

2009-02-23T23:06:00.002Z

nothing. no-thing. again. this ain't fun no more.

V-day

2009-02-14T09:07:00.005Z

Schmee-day.

I'm so happy for you all. Really, I am.

And I love you guys too, but what's the point in making me tell you on a previously specified day? And loosen up a bit too, there are ways of loving that don't include red/pink cellophane, flowers, and heart-shaped boxes with chocolates. There are, aren't there...?

If someone were to give me something in the shape of a heart I'm fairly sure I wouldn't know what to do with it, let alone how to reciprocate.

Story time

2009-02-12T21:31:00.007Z

**

A couple of years ago I went to an eerie ghost town, somewhere in the winterland of Death Valley in California. It was incredibly foggy when I was there, and the thick, gray fog obscured visibility more than a couple of meters ahead. Crunchy gravel beneath my feet, ramshackle buildings with deteriorating weatherboard cladding, and a few subtle but distinct indications that people had actually lived there set the mood to pensive, heavy, loaded. The sensation of lingering remnants of activity stopped short was multiplied by the way sound failed to travel through the fog, almost as though water in the air hampered the sounds we made, and rendered us alone, singular individuals, in an eerie space of memories, abandon and erronious directions. There was once life in this place - intense, hard, gritty life - and an awareness of yesteryear hung in the damp air. As I intruded this space of the past, tiny pieces of broken glass were pushed deeper into the ground under my feet. Alone in a solitary space, I heard muffled sounds from others, here too to seek the thrill of long past desertion and deterioration. Now and again the muffled cones of headlights appeared as phantasms, just beyond my capacity to see.

**

She walked down the street, wrapped in a haze of thoughts obscuring her to the surroundings. Or at least so she hoped. In fact her eyes, downcast and fleetingly seeking a way, attracted attention. They had a deep expression, intense, begging for acknowledgment, convoluted in a dark openness that hurt her as much as the next. The pale skin of her face accommodated this sharpness. She pulled the brim of her hat down to provide as much cover as possible to her face and breathed in the cold air piercing her lungs. Her presence was at once a meek shadow seeking to repel glances to achieve anonymity, and a strong expression of hope, challenging with dignity and perhaps even self-importance others on her way.

What had happened to the hopes she held? All her dreams? Around her people hurried from one place to the next, in a never ending series of places to go and things to do, whilst she seemed to have stopped in her tracks.

She felt the movement of all around her and floated in nothingness.

**

I ♥ the internet

2009-02-10T23:08:00.012Z

..where else could I find an amazingly interesting article on the creation of a mega-church, linked to a background story of the exurbs developing around major American cities?

..or the stories of 24 widely different urban areas abandoned for equally varied reasons (including flooding, an eternal subterranean fire, desertion?).

..or pictures that jog my memory?

**

"Monday, Monday, Tuesday, Tuesday, three more days till Friday... that's the way I waste my time, waiting for some time that's mine.."

Imagine if all time could be yours!

Maybe if you could enjoy all your time, you perhaps wouldn't need it to 'be yours'.

The time that's mine

2009-01-28T09:38:00.006Z

So, this new band I've come across is rocking my boat. Here's a little tune, that resonates with me... what's really important. The light at the end of the tunnel, or rather, The time that's mine by The Miserable Rich:

"Monday, Monday, Tuesday, Tuesday, three more days till Friday... that's the way I waste my time, waiting for some time that's mine.."

Imagine if all time could be yours!

The (un-)holy land

2009-01-25T13:24:00.010Z

The situation in Israel/Palestine/Gaza has caused a lot of discussion and uproar lately. I have tried to keep up to date with what’s going on, but somehow I have struggled to become ‘involved’. So, following the situation only superficially I came across an (in my opinion) well balanced essay in a Danish paper (for which the author was actually reprimanded for having misused the trust vested in him as a public TV presenter). It expressed some of the thoughts I myself have had about the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians. My translations throughout:

“The common European discourse is often as follows: The Palestinians are being humiliated and scorned, it is natural that they will use violence, whereas jews, who themselves have been so hardly hit, should know better. So, the message to the Jewish population: You, who have yourselves experienced pogroms, extermination camps and expulsion, or are descendants of .. the victims of the Holocaust, You must simply learn to control yourselves when someone again is trying to kill you!”

“The attacks on Gaza will... presumably only make evil worse, but a country under constant attack must and should act, even though the approach is disturbing for nice people, who don’t know how terror influences a society.
Many European commentators think that it is a classic imperialistic situation where one party is right and the other party is the evil aggressor. In military terms Israel is of course more powerful than the Palestinians but any society, powerful or not, which is hit by terror must use means to protect itself that it would not otherwise accept.”

He quotes the Palestinian journalist Zaki Chehab’s book ’Inside Hamas’ (2007):

“Chehab ... shows how the Hamas continues to stand by their charter from 1988, which says that the fight is not over till the green flag of Islam is raised above all of the historical Palestine from the Dead Sea to the Mediterranean Sea.

A representative of the Hamas is quoted: “ You will find no-one in Hamas who will acknowledge Israel’s right to exist. If you hear anything else, you can be sure it is a lie”. This is Israel’s enemy right now.”

The inherent historical elements of this tale are crucial factors in the developments along the way, and will continue to influence the proceedings that take place.

I have failed to become emotionally involved in this until yesterday. I attended a seminar at UCL, Uneven Geographies, and it really got me thinking. The seminar dealt with contested spaces, uneven geographies, and the first 2/3 that I sat in on dealt with Belgrade during the Jugoslavian war, and with Palestine.

Obviously, when the seminar was planned and speakers invited the situation in Gaza was different than it is now. The current world-wide focus on Gaza right now meant that the discussion naturally gravitated towards current and historical occurrences in the Middle East.

What I particularly liked about the seminar was the fact that people were balanced in their observations. Generally speaking the news does not exactly get conveyed in a balanced manner, and academic discourse on a subject that is so highly publicized at the moment was a welcome, if labor-some and tiring.

Particularly Ms Adania Shabil, a Palestinian writer, was very powerful.

The speakers talked about contested spaces, the way in which spaces are scarred and how places remember conflict. They discussed the implications of space in conflicted situations, the aesthetics of war and the effect of imagery (symbolic and actual) on the conflict and about the political and social implications of being in a state of ‘refugeeism’ (is that a word?). They spoke of the representation of free (or not) movement in literature, of how the contestation of a space creates this space in the mind of the world.

The question of the dichotomy between Jews and Arabs as the basis of this situation was softened by comments that ‘this is not what it’s about, it’s about the people living these moments’. And I really agree with the sentiment that is at the core of this - a pure belief that we as people should behave and do to others as we wish they do to us, it’s in a sense a case of basic human compassion. However, the history of these religions, places and peoples make the ‘now’ that we live in more complex.

The places occupied by Palestinians were historically - way back - the land of Jews. But at other points in time, they were Palestine. The peoples that occupy either side of the fence now have historical claims to and feelings for the land.

The fact that the two religions that these peoples represent inherently dislike each other (one has a warning of the other in their holy book) does not make it simpler. The fact that the United Arab Emirates continues to aid the reconstruction of the Palestinian villages and settlements certainly does not keep the issue at hand clear of religion or preconceived notions of opposition and rights.

As the land lay now, figuratively and literally, I do not see an end to the oppression and suffering endured by the Palestinians, nor do I see the terror they employ ending. Nor a peace or a surrender of land by either side, nor the admission that the other deserves the right to exist.

When you are struck on the chords of your beliefs, be they social, political, societal, religious, it is hard to give.

The historical prosecution of Jews may be something considered a part of history (or for some, not), but it will always remain in the self-image of people who identify themselves with Jews, be it in a religious, social, cultural or political manner. If the Jews don’t remember and act accordingly to the situations they themselves have been in, they might very well be creating the same self-image in Palestinians for the future.

I leave you with some pictures from a large Danish newspaper recorded during the first week after the end of the recent war actions in Gaza. For those not literate in Danish, I trust the pictures will speak for themselves. Click the picture for more.

Meh.

2009-01-22T19:27:00.004Z

Hm. Didn't break the rules. Am still holding on to a slimmer and slimmer hope of some sort of indication that I'm not entirely off in my evaluation of the situation.

The mental process leading to this is not entirely as linear as I would like to convey.

Crap.

Rules

2009-01-20T15:09:00.005Z

I've really tried to not follow the rules lately, to do what I really feel like instead of simply complying to norms.

And here I am, following 'the rules' because I'm guessing that that's what's expected of me. And lo and behold - they are not being 'followed back'. What rubbish. Maybe it's time for me to break them again, just to make a point. If nothing's new by tomorrow I will.

*

Did yoga and meditation again this morning, which was good. I'm finding the yoga bit easiest - focusing my mind is extremely difficult. There are SO many things to think about all the time.

Step 1.

2009-01-18T14:32:00.005Z

Today I tried both meditating and yoga for the first time, all in the privacy of my own room..

I downloaded a couple of podcasts on the subject and selected some that sounded and looked to be of a fairly reasonable quality.

The yoga was YOGamazing (pretty darned corny name!), and I selected the episode with exercises for runners. It was fairly easy to do, even in the limited space of my bedroom, and I could certainly feel everything stretch. I've downloaded a couple more and will give them a shot. Only thing I'm concerned about is that I'm not doing the stretches right.. I'm thinking that maybe, at least initially, I should do some supplementary classes just to get the poses right. Don't want to do any harm in all my eagerness.

The meditation was from some Australian meditation society, and apart from the tinny voice, I had nothing to fault them for either. There's a whole series of sessions, so I'll be working my way through them, one a day hopefully.

Now I just need to figure out a good order for my yoga, meditation and running! Running first, then the stretches and then clearing the mind?

2009

2009-01-14T13:22:00.004Z

It's a new day in a new year, and the sun is flowing into my living room. Around me what seems to be a constant fog in London these days is lifting and I hear children playing from a nearby schoolyard.

I haven't made any resolutions this year ("it's so passee, don't you think?"), but I feel the newness, the freshness of a new number on the calendar, inspiring thoughts of what might be and what I could do.

As I enter the new year things feel brighter and 'on the up'. I hope to continue the upward curve and shall do whatever I can to ensure so. I think it's time to actually do some of those things I always wished I would do, but never did.

First up: Yoga/meditation.
I've considered this many times, but somehow always backed/chickened out. Who knows - it might be great! As I've been working with other aspects of myself lately, this seems a natural extension in a way. I'll let you know how I get on.

Take care all, and the best wishes for an enlightening and wonderful year ahead.

home

2008-12-19T01:10:00.000Z

I'm at home and it feels good.

How funky's this..?

2008-12-12T22:54:00.001Z

A story told via google maps..

When dreams are lost

2008-12-10T09:41:00.003Z

..then what is left?

I've come to realise that much of what ails me stems from broken or lost dreams, hopes and aspirations that weren't to be.. For an idealist and dreamer like me it makes a whole lot of sense that this would hurt, and it truly is painful when some wonderful idea bursts. I've done much thinking over the last months, and some things are starting to shift into place, or at least settle down enough for me to get, if not a hold, then at least a good, long look at them.

We're talking the big ones here. Who I am, what I want, what I can give, what's important, who are important. I have no answers yet, but one tiny step at a time I inch forward.

"Nothing is good or bad but thinking makes it so."

2008-12-09T23:38:00.008Z

William Shakespeare

Hm. true?

Update

2008-11-21T16:23:00.008Z

I write this on my new macbook pro, which is absolutely wonderful. I must say, my apple-wares do provide me with more pleasure than my older, worn-out laptop.

I've really made an effort with my running this week, and it just seems to be getting easier and easier for me to run at the speed I want to, and even to go a bit further than I have been doing. Feels great, and I feel confident I'll reach my 90km goal this month. Since Monday I have run 27km already, and I will go out at least once more during the weekend. I'm now consistently running at less than 5 minutes/km, no matter how far I run. I've not run farther than 10km at one time, but I think I'm going to expand on that sometime soon.

Ever since my mom commented on all my running and said that maybe I should be doing something for my upper body as well I have been tormented by the image of myself with bulging calfs and thighs, and with a scrawny set of stick arms. I don't know what to do about it though. I'm considering some yoga perhaps? The stretching might be good for my weary legs too. Any training thoughts and suggestions are welcomed!

I'm going home for Thanksgiving next Wednesday, and am really looking forward to some TLC in the family home, not to mention the amazing food. It's been around half a year since I was home last, and although my brothers have visited, and my parents ditto recently, I just feel a bit out of touch. Particularly with my friends. I find I'm a lot less inclined to email or text when things are not flowing easily, and I haven't exactly been following the textbook example of how-to-do-a-career lately, or been feeling great. Actually I've been rather confused (and continue to be so, albeit to a lesser degree these days).

The London Jazz Festival is on at the mo, and I'm just about to head down to the Southbank Centre to hear one of the free acts there. It sounds really good in the leaflet, so I'm hoping it will be. Tomorrow I'm going to another free gig, which is more of a bossanova and samba sound. I love London!

Take care you guys. Thinking of you all. Err, both.

A girl and her mom

2008-11-01T23:01:00.008Z

Waiting at the bus stop one day not too long ago a woman arrived with her daughter in tow, perhaps 8-9-10 years old and wrapped in hat, scarf and winter coat and lugging what looked like a heavy little backpack and a gym bag. The mom was carrying three other bags (backpack, two cotton bags) and looked slightly stressed. After a while of discussions on what was or was not in one of the bags, the girls went back to where they had come from to retrieve said item. Arriving back lugging all the bags, the mother discussed their upcoming commitments and remembered that "your father", i.e. the girl's dad, hadn't filled in a second copy of a form for the girl's school. So, she pulled out her mobile, entered her (apparently) ex-lover's phone number and said, "You call your dad, and tell him that he should have filled it out a looong time ago! He never does what he has to, he is so irresponsible.".

This in itself made me uncomfortable, but the ensuing conversation, in which a young girl was made an instrument in her mother's poor communication with someone she had chosen to create a child with made me want to slap the mother. She told her exactly what to say, speaking the next point to make while the girl was speaking. The girl is becoming equipped be a very talented PA one day: multitasking, filtering information and dealing with a rubbish boss who makes unreasonable demands on her.

That a mother can be so insensitive to the effect her actions may have on the well-being of her own child is beyond me. Some people need to grow up and take responsibilities, and it's not the girl in this story.

Finally getting onto their bus the girl offered to carry one of the backpacks in addition to her gym bag. The mom responded, "No, no, that's fine darling, it's fine. I'm used to carrying all this stuff". You sure are. And so is your daughter. "Are you sure mom? I can, I really can take it!".

Yay!

2008-10-31T13:37:00.002Z

80km in a month - this is great! Next month's challenge is 90km.. My strategy of adding 10km per month is working at the moment, even with being sick and downsizing in September, but I wonder when I'll hit a max. Soon, perhaps?

Thank you London

2008-10-30T23:12:00.010Z

As I have given up my job I have taken up going to lectures. London hosts an abundance of free lectures every evening at universities, and so far I've at LSE heard distinguished lecturers speak on the subjects of climate change, the sociology of space and global health. I've decided to review the lectures I go to - to help me remember (which is pretty much a necessity!) and to spread the word.

David King spoke on the interrelated challenges the world faces. Population increases (the world's population is projected to be 9 billion in 2050, a 50% growth from current levels) will put pressure on energy security and supply, water resources, health and education, conflict and terror, biodiversity, food production and factors influencing climate change. These are all closely related, as for example an increased population will need more food, there will be less land to produce it on, which will lead to conflicts over water/land/food resources.

The US's choice to use food produce for bio-fuel has already had a considerable global effect in that there is less food available for global food aid, i.e. people are starving that were previously recipients of maize and other crops. Another example was the unwillingness to accept GM rice that can withstand being submerged for up to 3 weeks ("normal" rice can only survive about 6-7 days). The slower, traditional gene-enhancing selective purification has taken 18 years, whereas he postulated that GM could have yielded the same result in just 2 years.

His main points seem to be that science should be used intelligently to solve the global problems mentioned above through focused scientific development, and that regulation and government leadership is imperative to ensure development and innovation. Finally, "the most important change needed is a mental and ideological change" regarding the acceptance and use of science to ensure human life and comfort. His focus on scientific advances as the crux of development and decisions is perhaps a bit questionable, but nevertheless an interesting and challenging position.

Next lecture was Robert Sampson from Harvard speaking on the sociology of spaces, and how perceptions on places are shaped by the degree to which places are (un-)kept/disordered (which is a fairly common conception) and also by the influence of demographics and poverty levels. These factors determine not just the current situation, but also the future through a perceived understanding of the place. It may sound banal, but the way a place is perceived has a strong influence on the development of that place over long periods of time. (I can't find my notes from this one, so I might plump this review up when I locate my notebook!)

Tonight I intended to go to a lecture on urban spaces and representation of social issues through the media of film. It was however cancelled, and instead a random selection landed on another lecture, this one on global health inequalities. It was really interesting and with a great lecturer, Michael Marmot, who's at the forefront of his field (he lead the WHO Commission on Social Determinants on Health).

He showed through a variety of research that health inequality (or inequity, as he called it) is closely related to the economical situation of the population being examined. Furthermore, the economical situation is (as you would expect) closely linked to educational achievements. He gave the example of how medical advances had over a number of years saved 180.000 lives in the US. Educational improvements in the same period and context held the potential to save 1.4 mio. lives.

He said that it had been suggested that this cause, improving the living conditions and health of the world's poor, would be heard more if it was possible to quantify the benefits of improving the education/economy/health of vulnerable communities. His response was in that situation to say that social justice, fairness and empowerment of people should be enough of a reason. I really respect him for this, and wish that more people would accept and value human decency to a further extent than what is currently the case. Politicians rarely make any decisions that don't (presumably) lead to improvements to the economy. But is it not more important to consider the quality of life of people, and to rethink our current infatuation with the "development-is-good mantra"?

An investment of 100 billion USD could give 1 billion people living in slums running water, cooking facilities and toilet facilities, improving their quality of life immensely and reducing the health and economic inequalities (by freeing up time spent queuing for water, less people sharing toilets, etc). This is generally considered an unrealistic pipe-dream of well-wishing do-gooders. In contrast 900 billion USD has just been pumped into failing banks.

I find it interesting that all three lectures focused on the way we perceive the world as important to the development. Again, it seems banal, but these guys, who are all important in their field, stress it, so I don't feel too stupid repeating it.
Positive change is not impossible, it's simply a question of will. Idealist as I am (and I'm actually a bit proud of my "slightly" naive outlook on life in this regard) I believe that it is possible for all of us to make a difference. Things only stay the same as long as we stay the same.

I intend to keep it up. In particular I hope to maintain the statistics of hitting a free reception after 2 out of 3 lectures.

Hibernation

2008-10-28T21:56:00.003Z

Snow is falling over London town tonight. I didn't believe it at first; it was raining heavily as I worked my way home. Now, large snow flakes drop silently to the ground (bar one, which landed on my hand and was imbibed), and what seems a grey mass obscures my view. Surprising as it is, it somehow seems appropriate, having just turned back the clocks in accordance with the cultural construct of "daylight savings".

It suits my mindset fairly well. I think it's time to pull the covers over my head for some numbing sleep. Perhaps a full 6 months or so?

2008-10-17T19:08:00.003+01:00

Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams.
For if dreams go,
Life is a barren field
Covered with snow.

Langston Hughes

Americans in the world

2008-10-13T10:56:00.006+01:00

As a Dane growing up primarily in Denmark who also holds American citizenship I have always been inundated with comments and opinions on "how/what/who Americans are". When I was a kid I had to tell other kids from my class that what they saw in 90210, Saved by the Bell and all those other television series was not directly transferable to understanding who Americans are, what they stand for or how they live.

I grew up in a liberal, tolerant and understanding family. The values my family and I myself hold dear are equality in opportunities, obligations and rights for all, fairness, care for society's vulnerable and above all tolerance of people with different opinions, faith, nationality. Tolerance does not incur acceptance of wild postulates, it means accepting people's right to hold those opinions. If I disagree, however, with someone holding a different opinion to myself, I will question them and probe their claim. Not in a run to discredit them but to understand their position, and to see how they build their case and why it falls out differently to my understanding of the issue. I will most definitely offer my view on the case and hope to develop both parties' understanding. Dialogue is the way to go. And if a common understanding can't be reached, then let's at least agree to disagree on good terms.

You see, I prefer discussion and searching for an understanding of the truth over a claim deemed to be infallible, the ultimate truth. The truth is, I think, an ever evolving instance of understanding aspects of the issue at hand and linking and analysing them.

You cannot generalise a population of 300 million into a single category. Or into two, or five or ten. I understand the simplification processes that we all use to get a handle on the world, but as an American, I can't accept people calling us racists, haters, or egocentrics, the world's police, etc. And ton another note, I can't accept people wanting to kill Danish people for the execution of acts allowed under Danish law within Danish territory, but that is indeed another story.

I certainly do not agree with the policies that have flowed from the White House through the last 8 years, and I have in fact at times been embarrassed to admit that I am American. But does that not go to show you that there are great differences, levels of acceptance and tolerance within a group of people whom a large amount of the world holds little more than contempt for? My whole family is staunchly Democratic (both Danish and American sides), and I do think that one of my cousins is on the way to becoming a politician (he doesn't know this yet, shh!).

What makes this whole situation even more painful is that people making the most ruthless and hurtful claims are often the least educated, or ones that hold knowledge stemming from a singular base. How will you ever understand the values of a Democrat if you don't listen and take in what's being said? How will the Western world ever understand the areas of different ideologies if they don't engage in a real and tolerant conversation with them? The same goes for the apparent deafness created by hatred some Muslims and Muslim countries hold against America and other Christian nations. (Let me just interject the facts that I am not at all religious, and that I have friends of a variety of faiths, including Muslims).

When I was a kid and my classmates made claims to "understanding" that Americans are all airheads like Donna and Kelly from Beverly Hills 90210, or have dysfunctional family relations like in Married with Children, I tried to inform them that not all Americans are like that.

As an adult I feel the need to make this same claim once more, but in a much more serious situation and to a different audience. Not all people are like the low-educated, lowest common denominator, biased, racist and obviously ignorant qualities being exhibited at Republican voter rallies, volunteer meetings and on Republican blogs and websites.

Not all Americans feel the need to re-ignite a racist and religion-based war on "people who are different to us". So, as a an American, allow me to apologise for the racist insinuations made by the would-be-VP in the horrible case that Mr. McCain should win the current election. And bear with people voting for this pair. Most have a low degree of education, very little understanding of the way the world works and think that only their own happiness and success is important.

Although I am American, I have never before voted in an American election, even though I disagree strongly with Mr. Bush and his advisers and one might say that I should have done so before. But now's the time to send a signal to America and to the World that a tolerant, educated and intelligent man who deals in facts instead of playing on emotions of fear should take his rightful place in the White House. The fact that he is fairly young for a politician in his position, a Democrat, and that he is of mixed race just makes my choice even easier.

getting all worked up...

2008-10-07T14:10:00.001+01:00

and along comes this extremely competent word smith and sums up all that I feel on the subject: Mrs. Palin.

So. 28.

2008-10-02T00:32:00.005+01:00

I apologise in advance for the soggyness of this post; however most of you will know that this is what happens to me when left to my own devices. I turn pensive and grateful. And loud about it.

Long gone are the days were I would collect chestnuts in the large pleasure grounds north of Copenhagen with my childhood friend and build a city of chestnuts and matchsticks and animals to roam the streets.
Gone are the painful teenage years where fitting in and achievement seemed so important and was measured primarily in the number of guys you snogged.

And here I am in a (no longer so foreign) country, jobless (of my own accord, granted), and with a fairly uncertain future. And 28.

It's been a bumpy ride so far, with ups and downs, and there are few things I would have been without. One thing I have learned though, is to appreciate the nearness and caring of valued friends (and family members, who in effect are also friends), even when we are not physically near. I am lucky to have many people in my life who care and worry about me when I'm down, and who celebrate with me when things go well.

And for that I am thankful.

M

General downturn

2008-09-14T18:14:00.003+01:00

As is dreadfully obvious from the tracker to the right (-->) I haven't been running lately. Actually for two whole weeks my running shoes have been resting further and further down in the pile of shoes by the door. I went for a little one today, after having been ill and staying home from work thursday afternoon and friday, sort of in defiance and to prove to myself that the general feeling of being slightly ill, and rather tired had been cured by resting for a couple of days. Not the case. I felt dizzy and ill after 2.4 km and had to rest for 15 minutes to get better again. This is rubbish, and I'm sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.. Go figure.

I have been pushing myself pretty hard lately, I know, but I am adamant that my illness is not only due to this, I really feel it's a sickness. It's frustrating to feel sick and I really hope it goes away soon. I'm going to work tomorrow because I don't feel I can stay home with these mild symptoms any more. Silly? Proud? I just have so much to do at work and I want to finish the work I've commenced properly. I'm taking it slow though.

Two more weeks, that's ten days and counting.

Going batty, uh.. I mean dotty!

2008-09-04T21:58:00.004+01:00

So. Here's a little taste of what I'm up to these days:

Presentation's tomorrow and I remarkably feel ok. I have LOADS to do still tonight, but I'm just working away. It makes such a big difference to be doing things for yourself not for some boss you don't really... well... like.

Post no. 102

2008-09-02T21:59:00.007+01:00

So, I've been looking forward to my post number 100, but in the current frenzy of uni work apparently totally missed it a couple of days back. So here's me at work, in front of massive windows straight onto the street and loads of passersby eating a bagel with humous in celebration.

I have now reached the point where I can't NOT do anything anymore. I HAVE to, and hence, I am producing away. Never mind that I don't get the point of all of it, nor that I haven't prepared my presentation properly, I need material to pin up! At least if I do that they can't say I haven't done s***. I've acquired a key and can stay as long as I want. Which means I'll stay long. I think I'll even stay over on Thursday - there's a shower in the basement, so, hey! Oh yeah, presentation day is now Friday not Thursday. Man I can't wait for the weekend!

As you can see I have upped my running goal for September, ambitiously. As I right now have absolutely no life, I will already at the end of this week be massively behind. Bummer. I think I'll go out on Saturday after a good long night's sleep Friday.

Take care my two blog readers, and I hope to have the chance to see you each some time in the not to far off future, although, given a number of circumstances, it might be a while.

(Anyone else reading this blog than my nimble and graphically talented and friend in Denmark and my longlost sweet Asian friend in the far east - feel free to say hi and I'll include you in any future direct addresses!)

Study madness

2008-08-31T19:07:00.004+01:00

So, I've a big presentation on Thursday and I'm getting a bit upset. It's hard to work full time and to study evenings, as I've been telling anyone who cares to know.. I'm no feeling the pinch and project a massive lack of sleep this week.

I've had a pain in my foot (a colleague meant to know that it's a strain caused by overworking it..), and have been laying low on the running and taking anti-inflammatory medicines to keep the pain down. It appears to have worked, and I on the last day of the month completed my 60km goal! Yay! Very satisfactory! My goal for September is 70km, so that should be doable if my foot acts as it should.

And now, back to being worried about uni.

Back into it

2008-08-10T12:02:00.005+01:00

Running update:

After a week of feeling a bit wobbly, I'm back! No more tired muscles and nausea. I've run a 12 km total for today and yesterday - yay!

Today I went 7km, the farthest I have registered yet, although I think my trip to Finsbury Park last week was longer, it just didn't register properly with my new-found love, the nike+ gear. Anyway, it's an improvement, and I'm feeling more and more confident that my goal of 60km for August is doable (you can follow my progress in the little widget I've added on this page)!

It's actually a real satisfaction to have begun doing exercise again, and particularly the fact that this is a solo venture, it's something I am doing solely because I want to. Basketball is so easy to do sometimes, there are people waiting for me, I've made a commitment, it's what I've always done, etc. With this running deal, it's all about me and what I want to achieve, in terms of individual workouts and longer term goals such as getting back into a decent shape. Also trying to keep up in the challenges with other runners on the nike+ website is pretty 'inspiring', but that's another story :.)

Running was always such a chore when basketball was at its height, running around the 'lakes' in Copenhagen in rain and wind before a court training. I loathed it. Which makes it ever more surprising to actually be looking forward to going running now.

weather report

2008-08-06T21:19:00.008+01:00

London is hot and oppressive. Humidity levels soaring and a pressure building behind my forehead as I keep pushing on.

This evening was sticky, heavy and sad. Unrelenting. The solitude of a 9th floor dwelling. Unusually, no voices on the street, just a darkening view of the city.

Unexpected bursts of light strike over the London skyline lit on an indigo sky from my window: Quick flashes of lightening, and within minutes the sky is the greyest of grey, thunder rumbling miles away, rolling through tunnels of skyscrapers, through the streets. Sharp lights getting more and more frequent on the back of that cover of pent-up magnetic power we have suffered these past days. The sky rips into milliseconds of white madness.

But where is the rain? Why do I still see all the iconic buildings so clearly, lit in their evening gowns? Where's the promised relief? I wait, not impatiently.

I fell the wind picking up, but no heavy clouds any where near. It would seem there's going to be no crescendo in North London tonight; the easterners are taking the brunt and the animation.

Lights flare, ever further east. The City of London is back to its old usual self; well known buildings lit in the now post-dusk sky, winking incessantly at me with a red eye.

run run run

2008-07-31T23:14:00.004+01:00

I've started running, and what a hoot to be able to see your progress graphically.. A happy conjuncture of dissertation stress, a newly acquired gadget and having sat enough on my bum lately was "all" it took.

I'm happy to report that I've done 8,5km over the last couple of days as the beginning of a training programme I've set up. I'll let you know how I get on with it. So far It's been good, although I was very tired on the second to last km today. I always perk up in the end. Tomorrow I don't have a run, thank god, but I then on Saturday have a 6km trip coming up. Might take in Finsbury Park again; it was a good and exhausting trip up there last week.

US elections

2008-07-17T22:59:00.001+01:00

Check out this hilarious video

And now this?!

2008-07-17T01:40:00.002+01:00

Numbness is retreating in the summer sun.

What will be the end of it?

I guess it will end.

And all this before it even started.

Oh - and by the way..

2008-07-12T20:10:00.008+01:00

I've quit.

anything but what i should do..

2008-07-12T20:02:00.003+01:00

Today I have managed to clean up my laptop (i.e. delete accumulated crap, sort downloaded articles, move unnecessary but amusing pics from my desktop etc...), eat an abundance of Danish candy (own import!) and gaze out the window a fair few times. Plus text and call a number of people. Plus chat to my current stand-in flatmate.

I hope this is not how it'll be the next months.

I'd much rather be out and about.

Pooooor, poor, me. Sob.

2008-06-28T17:42:00.003+01:00

I spoke with my flatmate who has relocated to our common native, strawberry sweet, 80s sunnies and summerdresses abundant country for the summer, but was back in London for a couple of business meetings.

After we had caught up on the last month's events and non-events (such as "no, he didn't call" and "no, I haven't done any work on my dissertation") on our indulgent blue couch, my flatmate proceeded to discuss her work situation. As anyone who knows me more than remotely will be aware of I am the type that relates to others by projecting their issues onto my on life, hoping to gain understanding of their situation and my own. She is working freelance with a number of companies while looking for a more standard job. I am looking to free myself from a more standard job to work with things that are true to my ideals and hopes. She is willing to relocate in pursuit of a great job (as am I, just for the record), and feels her time in transient London is approaching its end, she has done what she came for.

I am not sure that I have done what I came for. I have not completed my uni work (and as is clear from the above stated non-events I am not getting much closer to it either), I have a job in which I am learning numerous things (among others how to be a good, complacent worker in control of her emotion. I don't like it) but not the ones I want to deal with in my future career. I feel restricted by my choices, I want the freedom to pursue dreams. I'm confused. What dreams? I don't have any specific goals, I have notions and fuzzy ideas.

Opti-what?

2008-06-05T20:36:00.002+01:00

Someone once said to me that he did not understand my optimism. Or rather, he could not understand how I could possibly continue to be an optimist. He couldn't live with the disappointments that inevitably follow.

I do get disappointed. I do get hurt, feel blue and sad, lonely and upset, but I wouldn't for anything give up the exhilaration and elation that I also get to feel at times. Granted, I realise that it will end, but at least I have that wonderful feeling for some time.

This time round I could feel that I was on the top for a long time, and began to anticipate the downturn. It doesn't make it any nicer, but at least I knew that it was happening.

Another of my tricky traits, I guess.

2008-05-29T00:21:00.002+01:00

Had an experience the other day where I was encouraged to consider a number of those implications of religion on humans that I so enjoy reflecting upon. It's been ages since my little Asian friend has been around for me to discuss these things.

'Freeze!'

2008-05-24T23:54:00.002+01:00

The grey skies outside my window nearly deterred me from actually leaving the flat, and a feeling of blandness kept me from any action. Not until I was 2½ hours late did something actually happen. I got up, grabbed my sweater, which serves as a coat sometimes, and finally heard the wellknown sound of the door slamming closed behind me in the empty stairwell. Time definately not on my side, I still walked slowly, with a blank mind, save for the images of a few people I passed on the street. I do that a lot these days, have a blank mind. It seems to help me to not have to deal with all those issues that would otherwise obscure sight of and the ability to deal with everyday life.

But it's a short-sighted thing to do, and I know it. It's been a long year, and this is not over.

Upside down you're turning me...

2008-05-22T01:01:00.001+01:00

Just saw a lady with a pearl necklace and white shirt driving a cab and a guy sitting in the back wearing a football shirt and reading the newspaper. The world IS upside sometimes.

moods

2008-05-19T22:36:00.003+01:00

It had been a perfectly normal day (that is, other than the fact that my desk buddy has been replaced by a new colleague, which is to be expected once in a while). I went to the cinema armed with tickets to a random movie a friend couldn't make, thinking that this would be a lovely evening - catch a flick and then zap on home, make dinner and just cosy up at home.

I didn't even check what screen the movie was on - everyone waving the a4 tickets were converging at a door marked "special screening", so I followed, sat down and settled in the deep, deep blue seats. The movie started, and vaguely remembering something like a cowboy on the add for the film thought that these black and white shots of couples kissing didn't quite match up. I was in the wrong cinema. I decided to give it a go (people kissing passionately in aesthetically pleasing b/w shots is alright), and the movie turned out to be about a new year's eve in LA, and a story revolving around two people (one with a newly broken and hurtful heart, the other on the emotional mend) randomly meeting and in a sweet, non-sticky manner, somehow helping each other with the places they are at. And showing love not as a rosy sweet-smelling situation of tender moments, but rather a painful and fleeting series of situations, consequences and occasionally pure moments. It was good. Funny. And I left feeling touched and disturbed in a way that thankfully more and more rarely sneaks up on me on the breeze.

So here I sit all in my lonesome, trying to put off something of which I am not yet aware.

Rites of passage.. or something.

2008-04-26T17:57:00.004+01:00

You know those days, when everything just comes together, feelings feel the way they should, the soft breeze dances in your hair and time seems to stand still with reflections on what was, what wasn't and what never will be. And what will be.

Today was almost one of those. It started out that way, with amazing sunshine (and a little jogging trip), clouds of pink cherry petals on the trees and individual ones whirring to the ground, accummulating to create pink streams along the edges of the roads. Families walking their dogs, couples lying on the grass - everybody on the move in a most leisurely and content way.

I'm not sure if it was the setting or the fluctuating times we're all passing through, but a couple of brave and liberating acts down the road, things that should perhaps have remain unsaid have come to life, and the potential consequences are in a jarring contrast to the idyllic surroundings. A feeling of unrest remains with me yet, but the liberating kind, the one that can grow to become something beautiful, if given time to expand to its full potential.

The Idealist Champion

2008-04-17T22:21:00.007+01:00

I know it's long, but bear with me...

With an ENFP score, I am an "Idealist":

"..passionately concerned with personal growth and development. Idealists strive to discover who they are and how they can become their best possible self -- always this quest for self-knowledge and self-improvement drives their imagination. And they want to help others make the journey. Idealists are naturally drawn to working with people, and whether in education or counseling, in social services or personnel work, in journalism or the ministry, they are gifted at helping others find their way in life, often inspiring them to grow as individuals and to fulfill their potentials.

Idealists are sure that friendly cooperation is the best way for people to achieve their goals. Conflict and confrontation upset them because they seem to put up angry barriers between people. Idealists dream of creating harmonious, even caring personal relations, and they have a unique talent for helping people get along with each other and work together for the good of all. Such interpersonal harmony might be a romantic ideal, but then Idealists are incurable romantics who prefer to focus on what might be, rather than what is. The real, practical world is only a starting place for Idealists; they believe that life is filled with possibilities waiting to be realized, rich with meanings calling out to be understood. This idea of a mystical or spiritual dimension to life, the "not visible" or the "not yet" that can only be known through intuition or by a leap of faith, is far more important to Idealists than the world of material things.

Highly ethical in their actions, Idealists hold themselves to a strict standard of personal integrity. They must be true to themselves and to others, and they can be quite hard on themselves when they are dishonest, or when they are false or insincere. More often, however, Idealists are the very soul of kindness. Particularly in their personal relationships, Idealists are without question filled with love and good will. They believe in giving of themselves to help others; they cherish a few warm, sensitive friendships; they strive for a special rapport with their children; and in marriage they wish to find a "soulmate," someone with whom they can bond emotionally and spiritually, sharing their deepest feelings and their complex inner worlds.

Idealists are relatively rare, making up no more than 15 to 20 percent of the population. But their ability to inspire people with their enthusiasm and their idealism has given them influence far beyond their numbers."

More to the point, I fall into the sub category of "Champion" (sounds cool!)

"Like the other Idealists, Champions are rather rare, say two or three percent of the population, but even more than the others they consider intense emotional experiences as being vital to a full life. Champions have a wide range and variety of emotions, and a great passion for novelty. They see life as an exciting drama, pregnant with possibilities for both good and evil, and they want to experience all the meaningful events and fascinating people in the world. The most outgoing of the Idealists, Champions often can't wait to tell others of their extraordinary experiences. Champions can be tireless in talking with others, like fountains that bubble and splash, spilling over their own words to get it all out. And usually this is not simple storytelling; Champions often speak (or write) in the hope of revealing some truth about human experience, or of motivating others with their powerful convictions. Their strong drive to speak out on issues and events, along with their boundless enthusiasm and natural talent with language, makes them the most vivacious and inspiring of all the types.

Fiercely individualistic, Champions strive toward a kind of personal authenticity, and this intention always to be themselves is usually quite attractive to others. At the same time, Champions have outstanding intuitive powers and can tell what is going on inside of others, reading hidden emotions and giving special significance to words or actions. In fact, Champions are constantly scanning the social environment, and no intriguing character or silent motive is likely to escape their attention. Far more than the other Idealists, Champions are keen and probing observers of the people around them, and are capable of intense concentration on another individual. Their attention is rarely passive or casual. On the contrary, Champions tend to be extra sensitive and alert, always ready for emergencies, always on the lookout for what's possible.

Champions are good with people and usually have a wide range of personal relationships. They are warm and full of energy with their friends. They are likable and at ease with colleagues, and handle their employees or students with great skill. They are good in public and on the telephone, and are so spontaneous and dramatic that others love to be in their company. Champions are positive, exuberant people, and often their confidence in the goodness of life and of human nature makes good things happen."

This, I feel, is spooky. Or, actually surprising, that answering 72 yes/no questions can hit that close to home.

Do you ever think about your fellow travellers?

2008-03-11T22:53:00.004Z

Time spent on the bus going from A to B, every day, several times a day. Wasted, if it weren't for a rampant imagination. I have made it a recurring event to spend my bus rides contemplating what sort of people are on the bus, which, mind you, can be rather disturbing at times. This morning a woman with cropped black hair was standing next to me in a black and white Karen Millen dress, with bold rings on her fingers and a brown knee length lamb skin fur. She looked rather professional. As we turned a corner and the bus made its way across the canal, she sifted through her vibrating pocket and extracted a phone and proceeded to speak in a specific tone of voice: "Hello? Yes, I slept well, you? I kept thinking about you, and had this dream...".

A) Do you really want to share your dreams (which appeared to be of a rather personal nature) with the entire bus?
B) I thought you were a hard-core designer-ish woman.
C) Hmm.

Blonde girl on the back row. Keeps looking my way through her impeccably natural makeup in rosy tones, perfectly matching the sweet but cool floral scarf, which is wrapped into the neck of her coat. She's very beautiful. I'm not really into blond(e)s, I prefer a bit darker. I like her soft fringe and bob, she looks very Scandinavian. Does she realise that I'm from that part of the world too - have I done anything that might reveal it? I don't think so. Maybe she's just looking at her fellow passengers too.

homeless book

2008-03-10T22:33:00.002Z

just found a book in the supermarket today, and although i felt a bit like a theif, a sticker on the front page said it was free, so i took it home with me.

it's a "bookcrossing.com" book... perfect for my upcoming holiday to argentina, which will now include reading the book "Bonfire of the brands".

"Happy Thursday! ;.) x"

2008-02-14T20:52:00.003Z

It began even as I got on the bus this morning. A guy clutching a plastic bag containing a box with a white rose inside, frantically and repetitively pulling at the minuscule bag in a vain attempt to cover its contents. Nervous, excited, unsure as to the reception?

Throughout the day I saw people waltzing past the large windows fortunately located immediately adjacent to my desk. Some carrying perky, little hand-tieds, others with a single red rose and a rather unattractive bunch of what looked like dill(?!) and a variety of bouquets - some with red, some white, some pink roses, a number of lily based decorations, several tulips... Most looked like they were on the donating end of the story. Several paper bags with red roses emblazoned on the sides looked conspicuously as though they contained gifts of some sort

As I left the office, overwhelmed at the amount of florals parading by all day, I noticed a destinct change in the people carrying goods of a red/pink nature. One was carrying 3 very tired roses, and looking terrible tired and sad. Another was sharing teeny tiny cupcakes from a box with a red ribbon with her beloved, and as I approached my home a young girl carried a pale pink bouquet pulling 6-7 pink balloons after her, tumbling about in the cold winter air. Looking hopeful.

You can tell who's in a relationship that matters to them (noone would go to the pains of purchasing a pink/red gift on the 14th of Feb if they didn't mean it..)

From a sociological perspective it's an interesting day. The impact on my life, however, is rather more subtle. And in fact quite reassuring.

2008-02-12T21:51:00.000Z

Spring has been poking about, tempting all of us to a smile at the white-blue sky and a layer less on our pale winter bodies. I'm liking it. Particularly when I look at it from the 9th floor flat that is my new home.

"Newsflash: Street sweepers enforcing art censorship on the streets of London"

2008-02-12T20:18:00.000Z

On my way to work there's a little, black piece of graffiti on a wall, all the way by the ground. It's a little rat with a NY-cap on his head and a ghetto blaster on his shoulder. Mhm. It's a Banksy. He used to be kept company by several other pieces of graffiti, but since the street cleaners (you're not really a street sweeper if you have a powerful water blaster and toxic chemicals with you to clean up) came by a few weeks ago, he's been all on his lonesome. Weird, huh? They work on a tiny alley for 2 days, and coincidentally forget to remove a little black rat that was right next to some of the other stuff they got rid of.

I realise that his "works" are worth massive amounts of money, and that there are several online maps guiding people to see the "works of art", and that he is an enigma on the art scene, but tell me again - what right does mr. Banksy have to draw on someone's building that the next person doesn't? ..'cause I doubt he asked permission in advance, you know. One of the now removed graff's next to the rat made an appropriate comment: "Shit off - I'm proper Banksy!". I doubt he was talking to himself, as he wrote...

I appreciate the focus on street art that Banksy has helped to enforce - I've loved it for years on end. I just think it's questionable that established governing bodies because of someone's commercial success accepts, maintains and protects what is otherwise seen as a blight. It goes against the whole idea of street art - it's temporary, you see it or you don't, and the thoughts and insights that it leads to are as valuable as the original piece itself. I really appreciated the "Shit off" comment! What a great way to start your day. Yes I DO mean it.

.

2007-12-29T23:27:00.000Z

Silence is gold, eh? I've been so blogging silent for the last while that I ought to be a very wealthy woman. However, life is not so, although finally earning a half decent salary and still half living as though I were still a student is helping on that.

Christmas has been great, but I somehow have an eery feeling of being unsettled. Being at home always messes with my head, and plunges me into thoughts of where I want to live, and what I want to do.

When was the last time you pampered yourself?

2007-11-29T14:11:00.000Z

The other day, someone I know only remotely asked me a question. He wasn’t being rude, but my first reaction was to think so. But then I thought – it could be a very caring thing to say: “When was the last time you pampered yourself?”

Honestly I don’t remember. I have recently had a (long overdue) haircut, and a month and a half ago I used nail polish a couple of times, ‘incidentally’ coinciding with me starting my new job. I use makeup every day, and try to make good food and see friends at least once a week.

But that’s not pampering, now is it.

Perhaps this person unknowingly hit my current issues spot on; perhaps they are out there for all to see, standing out like a sore thumb. Either way, it is slightly disconcerting.

And even worse is the fact that I know it, yet am unable to change my ways. One of the most important things I have learned over the last year or so is that I need to allocate time for me. I find it so hard to say no to seeing friends or doing something cool or interesting and instead stay at home and do nothing.. well, not really nothing… laundry, reading, drawing, thesis work, cleaning.. doing nothing too, it has to be there, just lying down and thinking, resting, allowing my mind to fall to ease. This is what I need. Very weird. Or not. Ah, now I’m confusing myself.

So. Is taking time for myself equal to pampering me? Or are my life priorities totally screwed up? Maybe I need to REALLY pamper me, go to a spa, indulge in a whole weekend of myself, resisting the temptation to do stuff with others. Why do I find this so difficult?