Dinosaurs

In my attempt to be as gender-neutral as possible with the toys my kids play with, I failed miserably.

My 2 year old boy has lots of cars and dinosaurs.

My 4 year old girl has lots of dolls, cats, and unicorns.

I truly did not buy those toys in the beginning. I tried to unbiasedly follow their internal desire for toys. But in each toy shop, my boy is magically attracted to rough toys that often look very intimidating. His reaction to them are loud “ARGHS” as he copies their mimics and sounds. While my daughter goes to the doll section with cute little kittens reacting with soft response of “aaah, look how cuuuuute mommy”.

Back to dinosaurs.

Every evening, for the past weeks, my boy falls asleep while I am reading him about dinosaurs. The book begins with stating that the earth and life on earth started about 4 billion years ago.

4 billion.

That number strikes me every single time.

1 million years ago is already quite a lot, in my opinion. Now we talk 1000 times 1 million, and that, 4 times.

I am trying my best to imagine that period. I just cannot grasp it. Maybe it is simply a miscalculation? My ego wants to believe that all life started with humans. Before us, awesome, smart humans, there was simply…..Nothing…

We are the beginning and the end.

We can not be some life form that evolved over time from other, less awesome life forms like us. We are too great, too awesome to be simply the result of evolution. It would make us way too interconnected to the rest of this (earthy, unhygienic) planet.

However, as soon as I simply accept that there might be truth in that number, I begin to feel humbled.

How long will our life form make it? Or will in a billion years from now our entire existence be excavated and analyzed by other life forms that made it further?

“Mummy!” my boy screams for the second time. “What animal is that?! Mommy?!”

Oh, yeah I forgot.

I was supposed to read.

The shake has to wait

Picture this: I was at a luxury coffee shop when my daughter caught sight of a glorious fruit shake. Now, any parent knows that once a child has their heart set on something, there’s no turning back (at least, this is the case for me…). So, with a sigh and a smile, I agreed to order her the shake she so desperately wanted.

“Mama, can I have one, please, please, please?!” she pleaded, her eyes wide.

“Sure, sweetheart, ” I replied…

And then something unexpected happened.

It began. The cries. The whines. The never-ending, terrible, loud chorus of “Mama, mama, mama, I want it now, now, now!! Where is the shake, mama?!”

Once it was my turn to order, I quickly asked for the chocolate-banana shake and stated how I wanted to pay, hoping the barista would feel the urgency of delivering this bloody shake ASAP to calm my daughter’s screaming.

But to my surprise (and frustration), she remained calm, going about her routine as if my child’s world wasn’t collapsing before her eyes.

After some time, trying to contain my kid’s restless screams I thought to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Yes! Finally! The barista was finished. She placed the shake on the counter next to her. But, wait, what? After finishing the shake, she continued simply washing the mixing bowl.

“WASHING THE MIXING BOWL?! You must be kidding me! Common! Is that so important right now? How could she!?!? She heard my girl crying, right?” I thought to myself. “Why is she just following her routine? Doesn’t she see that my daughter is on the verge of a meltdown??”

And then it hit me.

This barista was simply everything I was not.

She was unimpressed. Unimpressed by the pressure laid on by anyone else. Instead of succumbing to the chaos, she remained steadfast, focused on the order of her tasks at hand. No matter if the pressure came from a cute little screaming girl with a helpless mom. She didn’t let the noise of others dictate her actions or change her routine. She believed that waiting is part of the game and everyone simply had to deal with it.

And you know what?

It was kind of refreshing.

As I watched her, my frustration transformed into admiration. I realized that I let my daughter stress me out unnecessarily. I so often let my daughter guide my course of actions, that I expected others to do so as well…

Finally, the lady handed over the long-awaited banana-chocolate shake to my daughter, who, in the blink of an eye, went from tear-streaked to sipping with all smiles.

So the next time I find myself caught in the chaos of life, I think back and try to channel my inner unimpressed barista. Let the shakes wait, while savoring the sweetness of a clear and focused mind in any circumstance.

Unlock your silence

We tend to believe it is the words that change others, the actions, the directions we give, the things we do.

But in fact, it is not.

What actually truly impacts beyond the obvious is found in the moments of stillness, nothingness, perceived passiveness, moments filled with courage in which we face unanswered questions.

Letting those moments just be, sit there. Let the words that arise be, feel them, not judge them. No matter if those words are ours or those of others.

In those moments, we let go of ego-centric listening, listening with the aim to respond. It is then, we understand the truth about silence. Silence is not an admission of defeat, but a doorway to deeper wisdom. A wisdom resonating with universal truth, inspiring hearts.

Worth to be still for.

Worth to listen to.

Truly listen.

Headed

Where is my life headed to?

One thing is sure.

It’s headed to death.

What does that mean?

One day I won’t be anymore.

One day – I was.

How can I prepare for that?

What you mean, prepare for that? Death will anyway catch you. It will happen anyway.

How can I enjoy the ride to that end?

Well – live.

Live the purest life you can live. The most fulfilling, the most present, the simplest.

And then still, you will die.

You will be remembered by some, forgotten by many. 

And still, it was worth it.

May my death give life. That probably is my biggest wish. That what I leave behind will be a shift, even if it’s just in a handful of people, even if its just a millimeter of a shift. A shift in human consciousness towards living in the purest form.

Living in the present moment.

Leading by example. At least, I try.

And I will have tried.

Free as a Tree

Birds fly. Ants walk. Fishes swim. But trees? Trees just grow. They are stuck on their very own place for a lifetime.

In this life full of change, speed and instant communication; we seem to always value movement over stagnation; change over sameness; newness over that what is old.

Happiness, many think, is a function of the far-away-ness of our holidays, size of our home, level of our career promotion and other outer appearance stuff. This type of happiness in the end is perceived to be deserved through some type of hard work or some think, by mere luck.

But is this happiness, or is this a temporary satisfactory state?

Do we need movement to keep feeling alive? Do we need change to keep feeling engaged? Do we need something new to keep feeling fulfilled? Or is this rat race just an illusion and is the depth of true happiness so shallow that we repeatedly overlook it…

The more I am able to experience happiness in the simplest things, yes, even more simple then anything you just come up with…The more I believe I start to experience a form of long lasting happiness. An almost unconditional version of happiness.

So maybe, lasting happiness requires the guts to slow down when all is speeding up. The guts to reduce when everything else is pulling for increase. The guts to stop when everyone else calls for movement.

It is this freedom, and in those moments that I am detached from everything, I am present, I am free.

Maybe boring from the perspective of movers.

But at least free from mine.

Free as a tree.

The perfect happy ending

Once you have a child, you become suddenly aware of the enormous responsibility resting in your hands. This tiny human being is vulnerable and dependent, and naturally, you feel the need to have a “plan” and set “goals”. Let me introduce you to mine.

Goal 1: Get them to accomplish what you have never reached. O, little girl you dance well, are you maybe a hidden professional dancer? Soon you realize that these are your goals, not theirs. Their journey is unique, and their own dreams and aspirations may differ from yours. Nope, probably they won’t become that thing that you believe (or want to believe) they are good at.

Goal 2: I want them to be happy. Whatever they decide to do. It seems like a noble goal, but the reality quickly sets in. Children are NOT always happy. They experience a wide range of emotions, and gladly let you know they feel them: hunger, tiredness, sadness, disappointment, anger, frustration, fear, you name it. They encompass the full spectrum of human emotions, just as we do. So happy, uhm no, better leave that goal because its a FAIL.

Goal 3: I want them to learn that life is sometime hard and you have to face it. It’s just the opposite of Goal 2. Of course, taking this as a single goal is not a good idea – Overwhelming them with constant challenges may not be beneficial. It will hit back hard in teenage years. I don’t have teenagers yet, but I can expect the backlash already.

Goal 4: You know what, I give up. I think I have to leave this goal setting thing here. No goal seems to cover the vast array of challenges that can arise. Maybe parenthood has been designed as a way of humbling us humans and exposing the limitations of our well-intentioned goal setting. Once I think I have it under control and manage it, I lose it all over again…

Amidst the twists and turns of this ongoing comedy called parenthood, let’s pause and embrace the laughter that accompanies this realization. It is in these lighthearted moments that we uncover a crucial truth: the best goal we can have as parents is to be fully present.

So, what is my goal with my kids? Should there even be one? It boils down to wanting them to simply “be.” I want them to experience and fully exist in each moment without trying to justify it with the promise of an ice cream cone or the anticipation of the next event. I want them to embrace their feelings without the notion that “only babies cry.” To achieve this, I must lead by example because they won’t simply follow what I tell them—they will imitate what I do.

The fact is, children don’t need lessons on being present. They embody it naturally. It is we, the parents, who need to relearn the art of being present, rediscovering our own inherent nature so that our children don’t “unlearn” what comes naturally to them.

“Mom,” she said, while I was busy with taking care of her younger brother, “I need you to hug me and spend time with me—just the two of us.” With gratitude, I replied, “Thank you for expressing your needs so clearly.”

And just like that, today’s mission was accomplished. In that moment, I realized that the perfect happy ending lies not in the fulfillment of our specific goals but in our ability to be fully present—ready to speak up on our needs, listen, understand, and respond to them when its the right time. But also ready to say “no”, it is enough, provide boundaries and clarity.

So let us embrace this delightful journey of parenthood, with all its comedic mishaps and unexpected surprises, knowing that the true happiness we seek resides in being fully present. And maybe, wanting a “perfect happy ending” makes us focus just on anything else, but the present moment we live in.

Slow Fix

In today’s developed societies we often think we need to get anything we want at our fingertips. Quicker than ever. It is a good thing, it is a result of “development”. It is also a bad thing, as we might start to believe that everything works through some sort of “quick fix”. Back-pains? Get a massage. Overweight? Start just again with different diet or trainingsprogram. Stress? Just eat it away. Kids crying? Turn on the TV.

We all know those quick fixes don’t solve the real issue. It’s just so difficult to find the real solution (quickly). Quick fixes do one thing very well: they provide temporary relief. They distract us for a moment, maybe even long enough that we forget we had an issue at all and move to the next activity. Great! But underneath the surface, the problem remains unaddressed. It is just a matter of time before the mole needs a wack again…

I’ve come to realize that finding real solutions requires a different mind-set. It requires an ease with slowing down and patience with ourselves and “not knowing it all” at first. It requires peeling back the layers and getting to the heart of the matter. Why is my back hurting? Can it be my work chair, my lack of movement or even, work related stress? What is causing my stress? Can it be my work, or my colleagues or actually my perception of them? Why are the kids actually really up-sad? Can it be they are hungry, or are they maybe rebelling to my own fears and expectations?

It’s not always easy to confront such questions. It can be uncomfortable, annoying and even painful to face the deeper truths. But I am more than confident, that the right road is not always the easy road. Quick fix, is quick wrong.

And what to me is most compelling, is that in many cases the “solution” is not in doing “more” or doing “different”. It is quite the opposite: the answer lies often in doing less. This goes against our societies drive to deliver, act, run. But if you dare to take away the pressure to act impulsively, the space you create can allow for change that comes with way deeper wisdom. Was it maybe this that Einstein referred to when he said: we cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them. Stepping out, means sometimes physically stepping out (go for a walk) mentally stepping out (change your frame of reference), emotionally stepping out (use logic instead of intuition).

I’ve embarked on this journey of slow fix, and it transformed me. This takes time, but the rewards are immeasurable. I feel more focused, clear and healthy than ever today. To me there are 2 key moments that embody “slow fix” to me: 1) when I write, and 2) when I am alone and have no other goals for myself then to relax.

1) when I write. I have been writing dairies starting as soon as I could write, and have been doing so ever after. Recently much less due to the distractions with kids and work, but its the same feeling as ever when I start again sporadically. I do not place high goals with this either, as it is simply the process that is enough. Writing down thoughts gets them out of my head on paper and this process makes it suddenly become a logical equation to solve. When I write, it makes me able to analyze thoughts, question them and change them.

2) when I am alone and at ease. As a working mother, it can be hard to find me-time. Something I thought it was even not “correct” to have me-time. I am a mom – life can’t be easy – the kids need me… Well, this is not every day of course. I value short (half)days off in which I am (on purpose) alone and plan nothing but a visit to a spa. I always take something to write with me. No phone. Only the idea that I have a next me-day planned in my agenda, makes me feel grateful and powerful. It’s like a checkpoint that I can look at for. A checkpoint that I had to pro-actively organize amid other obligations and therefore is a confirmation of self-worth. Worthy to make and reserve time for. Worthy to slow down for.

Do you allow yourself to slow fix?

My Best Ideas

My finest thoughts arise unsummoned,
Without a plan or prompt or cue.
When I’m unready, unadorned,
That’s when my brightest ideas break through.

My best ideas don’t clamor or shout,
They whisper softer than a breeze.
They visit when I let my mind wander out,
When I plan nothing and simply be.

These notions feel perfectly right,
In the moment they first appear.
I pledge to write them down, to take flight,
But often they vanish before they’re clear.

As a consequence, I question and hesitate,
Is this pursuit worthy of my precious time?
With numerous responsibilities to contemplate,
I overweighted risks and kept opportunities undermined.

So I don’t cram more facts or stats,
Or hunt for ideas far and wide.
I simply let my thoughts relax,
And trust my muse will not subside.

And when I finally capture those best ideas,
On paper, screen, or in a song,
Perhaps one day they’ll take off and steer,
And bring my dreams where they belong.

Are you curious what my ChatGPT prompt was for this poem? See the below the snapshot. I made only changes in the 4th paragraph.

Is this poem now my idea? Or is it not? :)

The biggest contradiction

We live as if there is no death. We die as if we have never lived.

Sometimes, when my kids are both in bed and it is quiet at home I think of this. Life, as it is, feels so real. So deep. So engaging. So demanding. So big. I am at the center of it. Am I not so incredibly important?

Exhausted but fulfilled I am walking over to my own bed.

A few moments after I realize that on one day, it is all over for me. I will no longer be. My kids will be on their own. They might cry a bit, but soon also I will be forgotten. Life, as it is, can be so harsh, so shallow, so deceptive, so unreal. That what seemed so big, might one day be very small. This contradiction sometimes scares me; in other times I feel invited to be in deep awe for Life itself.

What to me is the most interesting of this, is that we all face this very same realization one day. Without escape. One day, it is over. For each of us. You also, one day will have no more breath to breathe.

But, the more I accept this truth – the less heavy Life itself becomes. The more Life seems to invite me to simply “be”. Not overthinking it. To cherish it. To live it with deep presence for myself and others in it. And especially, with presence for the few of them I choose to live, and die for.