Tag Archives: living

To go within, especially in times of change and uncertainty

Always, but especially in times of change and uncertainty, it can be helpful to go within.

To take a step back from the world. To even take a step back from what you think you know and believe and feel. And be aware of what’s happening inside yourself. Beyond the surface. With as much kindness as possible. No matter if you like what you notice, or not. Try not to judge. Even try not to judge if you’re noticing that you are judging. Just notice and observe. Be aware.

That can be unsettling and scary, at first.

Most people are conditioned to always keep moving. To suppress feelings that come up, to directly form an opinion, to only aim for happy and joyful experiences. It can lead to feeling disconnected from yourself and others. It can lead to feeling stressed and incompetent. It can lead to feeling scared and angry. It can lead to feeling confused and tired.

So if you start (again) to make some time to just be, you have to adjust to that. At first your thoughts might roam wildly. Or your body gets very restless. Those are actually signs that you don’t have enough just-be-time.

I do believe that it is crucial for us human beings to take some time to go within. It is not a luxury. It is not selfish. Quite the opposite. It helps you to see things more clearly, to feel more grounded, to make room for more kindness. It helps accepting that life is always changing and includes everything: the good, the bad and the ugly. So go within. Even if it’s just for a few minutes a day.

Take a few deep breaths. Meditate. Stare out of the window. Write down some thoughts. Read a bit in a book that feels good. Listen to a nice song with your eyes closed. Make a drawing. Go for a little walk.

“The path to unshakable well-being lies in being completely present and open to all sights, all sounds, all thoughts – never withdrawing, never hiding, never needing to jazz them up or tone them down.”

Pema Chödrön – Living beautifully with Uncertainty and Change

Ode to my dad

In Januari 2014 it became clear that my dad had an incurable cancer. The following months were really special, intense and loving. Thanks to the way my dad is. Today 4 years ago he died. A few days later I wrote an ode to him. Today I translated it from Dutch to English:

Hi dad,

It is so great to be your daughter! Because of you I can be who I am. And it gave and still gives me the confidence to follow my own path.

You never thought you knew everything about anything. That way you always remained open and willing to learn. Very modest. Sometimes in a unrealistic way.

For example, we talked about music at home recently and you reacted with ‘but I am not a musician’. You, not a musician? As long as I can remember there are instruments in our house. You always played in a band. We were always surrounded with music.

Dad, you were a real musician. I will take your love for music further into the world.

What I also find illustrative of you is that you leave people in their value. For example, as a starting student I died my hair bright red for a while. Just like a traffic light. You did not really like it, but you did like that I just did it. When someone said to you: “But you can not allow that as a father,” you answered: “Well, she is the one who has to walk around looking like that.”

I always had a lot of questions about everything and we had good conversations about that. When we were doing the dishes together. Or when you were fixing things in my house again.

At the end of last year we heard that you were seriously ill. From then on, these conversations became even more intense. And they got another layer. You were not afraid of death and that’s why we could talk about it. With openness, humor, amazement and wonder.

You were truly amazed by all the sweet cards and visits from people during the past months. You had no idea that you made an impression on so many people. Such a beautiful gift for you, to realise that while you were still alive.

When I got home at the beginning of last week, it was clear that you were in the very last phase of your life. You were there. And you were not there. Fortunately, I feel that we have talked about everything we wanted to say.

Being sick by itself didn’t seem to really bother him a lot.  As soon as something changed in your body, you adjusted in such a way that you could continue with doing your things. With your life. You really have enjoyed your life until the last day.

That last phase was something you really dreaded. You didn’t feel like experiencing that. So it did not really surprise me that in the middle of the night, while it was my turn to stay awake to be with you, you suddenly, very calmly, stopped breathing. No fear. No struggle. Your body was just done living.

Being great without shouting. That’s how you were. And that’s how you went. They say that you live on as long as people talk about you. Because of all the cards, conversations and messages we have received in recent months, and last week, I know for sure that you will live on for a long time.

Bye sweet dad,
there you go, on your way to the unknown.
I will continue my path in this world.
And I will always take your calmness, love, peace, trust and humour with me.

We humans are in this together

Everyone you meet has their own battles, joys, doubts, pleasures, worries, questions, insecurities and achievements.

No one on earth is here to do you wrong.

You are the one that can think so.

What do other people trigger in you, ‘good’ or ‘bad’?

What lesson may their being, their presence, their long or very short stay in your life tea8ch you, if you allow it?

If you think you have all the answers, you are not open to learn more.

Other people and situations are like mirrors: they are as they are. You are the one that gives it meaning, a background, a story.

Stay open to learn, appreciate everyone you meet.

Because you never know who or what will give you a valuable lesson or insight to keep growing as a human.

Richard Carlson-  Don’t sweat the small stuff.