365 days project – week 42 & week 43

Busy times. That certain time of the year when times seems to fall together into a mass of days leading towards the end of the year. The child in you want to stop & stare at the trees changing colors, the gorgeous autumn skies & the annual, yet astonishing changes that nature bring about.
But the rest of the world moves forward, urging you to wake up, work & stop wondering. They are all feeling it, these little friends of ours. Feeling a little tired. A tiny bit deflated even.

So they decide to turn back the clock; an hour, a moment, an entire week. They leave the house, stare at those trees, drink warm coffee & make plans which cheer them up. They connect & tune out. They inhale the fresh autumn air early in the morning & suddenly understand that they will be alright again.

Enjoy our update & see you again next week!

Week 42

Week 43

To think about thoughts


Dawn is breaking. The sky is changing color. My head is brimming with thoughts; big & small, possible & impossible, pressing & pointless. The sun is climbing into the cloudless sky. The radio is on. They’re telling me it will rain today. The heating is warm, it makes the cat happy. I look at her. She looks at me. We got up early. We slept too little. The news starts. It’s all new. I look at her. She looks away, cleans her fur. She doesn’t listen to the news. She knows it’s not new. Her thoughts are big nor small, not possible or impossible. For her everything seems as pressing as it seems pointless. The cat thinks of the sun, falling across the floor. The cat thinks of the heating, warm & indulgent. Satisfied, she curls up, purrs & decides to sleep just a little more than usual. I look at her. I sit very still, hands wrapped around my teacup. Feel the sun on my hair, squint my eyes & think of all the possible things I could think of.

This morning I cycled through the silent city streets. It was dark, but there was a lightness in my mind. My thoughts were both big & small, they were all about life. The complexity and the simplicity of it. How happiness & sorrow go hand in hand. And how we learn to laugh through our tears, because we know it is the very best way to handle this gorgeous, complicated & extraordinary life.

The cat is snoring. She says she doesn’t. But I know she does. I switch off the news, drink my tea in silence. I smile away my thoughts. One by one.

365 days project- Time got away from us

Lately, life has been busy; going to work, clearing the garden, making plans, changing those plans & living life.
Usually, we’re pretty good at keeping up. We plan & plot, we adjust & we enjoy.
But every so often, time slips away. It leaves us wondering what happened to the minutes, the hours & the days which we were planning to use to the max.

And this is what happened to us this week; time got away from us. Just like that…
So, there will be no update this week. Because it’s not finished yet. And because we feel a little too tired to fix it now.
And because a storm is coming & we want to make a hot pot of tea & sit on the couch, listening to the wind howling outside. We want to eat steaming plates of curry, watch our favourite programs, with nothing but nothing on our minds for a while.

Don’t worry , we’ll see you all again next week. And the good news is, that you’ll have a double update to look forward to. Hope to see you then….

365 days project- week 41

A busy week; seven days filled with hard work & long, lazy hours.Life happens & our friends find themselves in the midst of it. They dress for the cold, so that they may enjoy the autumn sun. They clean, cook & clear the garden.

This week has them feeling happy, then tired, then happy again. But just as they start to feel small & doubtful once more, they run into the giant within, showing them that they are so much stronger than they thought to could ever be.

Hope you’ll enjoy!

That’s how the light gets in

I’m about to post one of the scariest blog post I have ever posted here. Scary, because it’s honest, true & it leaves very little room to hide. I’ve been rereading my text a zillion times by now & I want to spend the rest of the evening perfecting it. But I know in doing that, I might take the heart & soul out of every word I wrote. And that while, after days of feeling slightly down & uninspired, I have finally been able to write down what I really feel. Or at least part of what I feel.
I dared my heart to speak its mind. And this is what my heart had to say;



Dear Psychologist,

It’s me. It’s been a while, I know. ‘I’m cured’ or whatever we might like to call it. And I’m fine. Don’t you worry. I’m fine. Most of the time.
We’ve worked hard together; you & I. I’ve come a long way since we first met. And even though, I did most of the work, I couldn’t have done it without you. And quite honestly, I miss you sometimes. I miss the conversations we had, miss that small office space where I allowed myself to be the rawest version of myself. And I miss the thoughtful guidance which you provided & which I so needed. You were the perfect audience for my long overdue heartfelt conversions, the ideal narrator for my life’s story. Because I was so lost when I ended up on your doorstep. Lost. Frightened & far too small for the enormity of the society we live in.

I’m not too sure whether I should be writing this. Right here. Should I? What will people think of me? Those few people who actually read this blog, they might find a different place to go. They might think I’m crazy for owning up to the fact that I’m unable to always make it on my own. Admit that at some point in time I was at my absolute wits end as to how to live this life. This incredibly complicated life, with all it’s beautiful & terrifying twists and turns. I understand that it might be silly to put you & our time together down in writing and send it off into the world. I might be judged, fingers might be pointed & heads might shake.
But I don’t want to care too much. I’m tired of feeling dishonest, tired of dancing around this subject with carefully chosen words. Because there are not a great number of things in life that I’m truly proud off, but admitting that I needed help & seeking out that help, is an exception to that rule. I was petrified the first time we met. Petrified as I sat down on that chair, about to venture off into undiscovered parts of my soul. Now, looking back, I understand that taking that step has been the bravest thing I have ever done. And on top of that, it’s also been the greatest gift I could have ever given myself. I see now, what I couldn’t see back then; that I, despite it all, still loved myself enough to give myself a second chance. A real, solid chance to be happy again. A chance to get to know myself better than I ever did before & a chance to learn how to life with the person I was always bound to become. And it has paid off. It really has.

Dear Psychologist, I think about you. Every now and then I do. And lately I think about you often. What if you could see me now, I wonder. What if you could see me right here. Lost. One step forward, two steps back. What if you could see me now?
I’m fine. Fine most of the time. But every now and then life throws things at me that I feel I just can’t handle. Things I simply can’t work out on my own. And then I wish I could turn to you one last time, to share my sorrow & find a way out of the mess I feel I’m in at times.
Sometimes there is war in my head, conflicts too complex to understand. Sometimes there are sides to choice & stands to take. Sometimes there is the fear of uncontrollable diseases, incurable & larger than life, which seem to seep into the safety of my world. I lay awake & try to remember the things we talked about & how you helped me to feel strong in the midst of feeling small & frightened.
I spend days trying not to worry about the world & all its craziness, try to convince myself that worrying won’t get me anywhere. I go outside & embrace life fiercely, understanding the importance of every single day that I’ve been giving.
And so, I pick myself up. Time & time again. And for a proud moment, I stand tall…..until life happens again. Until life twists, until life turns. And I left wondering whether we will all make it. Wondering how on earth we are ever going to be alright again.
And that’s when I think of you. Of you & that room. The safety of it. The strength it gave me. The things you taught me. The things I must have taught myself. But at times I can’t remember any of them & then I feel lost again.

Dear Psychologist, I’m alright. Believe me. I’m okay. Or at least I will be. And I’m proud. Sometimes. And I’m grateful for the journey we made. Always. I’m just struggling. These days. But I will be fine. Someday.

365 days project – week 40

It’s autumn everywhere & all around. Rain streaming down the windows, leafs drifting towards the wet earth. Some of our friends set off into this new, chilly world; clearing the garden & buying ingredients for their wholesome meals. Others stay inside, stroking their cat or simply enjoying the setting sun.

Week 40; one day late, but I guess we all know how time gets away from us sometimes…I hope you’ll enjoy it all the same!