items to add to the encyclopedia of me

I take messy notes in tiny hand-writing. I have a lot of imagination. I carry around bread in my pocket. I am unique.

breathing exercises and maple leaves

October rains, colours, turbulence. 

I alternate between money trouble, breathing exercises, a class room, hypochondria, too much work, not enough work, panic, peace of mind. 

There is not enough time to savour the blood-red-to-sunny-yellow maple leaves and the swooping, chattering jackdaws.

study slowly, soothingly

Education these days is modern and high-tech, I said to myself and brought my best laptop to class. 

None of the other students did. The teacher distributed notebooks and pens. To learn a piece of information, she told us, you have to ponder it actively for at least 30 seconds - preferably by writing it down, talking about it and practicing it. 

Hence the slow pace and the note-taking by hand, I presume. There is also talking and practicing. The teacher even speaks in a slow, soothing voice. It should drive me crazy. 

But after the first hour, I found myself soothed into a pensive but alert state of mind - and remembering the information afterwards.

I'm back to studying - slowly - and I relish it.

fairytale stage

Alone in the wilderness again. The moon is a wonky orange, the sea is spilled ink, the mist blurs the edges - a fairytale stage. Hundreds of honking geese take flight with a sudden thunder of wings, unseen in the dark.

The fire is roaring happily in the wood stove. I'm in the cottage, flimsy curtains drawn against the thick, black night. This fairytale stage is set for me and my writing. This is me.

I don't even care that my car is broken and I don't know how to get home.

summer's last, hot breath

Honking geese, berry cream cake, rain, earthy scents, warm sunset evenings, carnivals and fireworks, raw nostalgia and loneliness, hours of sleep in a silent cottage, plans and dreams, the forest.

August is emotional. Not just the end of summer  -  the end of the year.

After months of white nights here in the North of the world, there is always that night when you look up and see the first, bleak star blink into existence. One after one they come, then thousands and millions, as August dims the lights a little more for every night. 

Before summer has turned to autumn, the entire Milky Way roars in silence across the sky, sometimes licked by tendrils of Aurora Borealis. It smells of ice and eternity.

the five decades signpost

I'm loved by God. I don't need additional love.

I carry faith (trust instead of worry), hope (joy and beauty) and love. 

If I lose faith and even hope, love will still be there.

I don't have to live up to any norms and expectations, explain myself or submit to shame.

I will never marry. I'm set apart for something higher.

The kingdom of God is near and I'm bringing friends.

hazy horizons

July dawns with hazy horizons, rain, fragrant clovers, a croissant with hummus and coffee, solitude and turbulent emotions in a quiet cottage.