Ključna beseda: entrepreneurship

On Being Real

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If you have been following me at all up here, you know I’m taking this three-month course called Abundance Group, where we aim at developing our talents and gifts into abundance. It’s amazing. And it’s challenging to see that our acquired sense of self is often the jailer for all that we could be. That’s what I want to talk about today.

What I’ve come to notice is that I didn’t have any problems stating who I was. This is the question I’ve been dealing with fort he past decade:“Who am I, really?” And I’ve come to definitions and I’ve come to conclusions and I’ve come to internalize a set of beliefs about me that I hold dear to my heart and that make me feel right. For example, ever since I came to know the hippie movement from the late 1960’s in my early teens, I just knew: “Mom, I’m a hippie.” What got me about the hippies was their FREEDOM, but what made me stay was the prison that kept my mind believing: “It’s alright if I’m penniless, at least I’m free.” Excuse me, mind, but having a child and being penniless is no fun. Even the freedom, which was the reason that I signed up in the first place, turns to anxiety and rage when my son needs winter boots and I am in no way capable of buying a pair. I wasn’t, but luckily I always had family and friends who were. 

And then I started asking myself whether this was really who I was supposed to be? “Honestly, I’m here to be broke?”, I asked myself and paused.

The voice of the wise answered for me: “Well, if you’re buying this, I’m certainly not.” It was time to acquire a new sense of self. This sense of self made me describe myself as I did a few days ago.

I’m a woman and a mother who is aiming at balance of body, mind and soul. I am a researcher of life whose job is to find pleasure in every little step on the way. I am here to tell the truth about the way and I am here to be REAL.

Seeing the world that is fake and the people who fake in order to please or reach some sort of standards,  lights the fire on my way, because I’m here to question: “Whose standards?”. If you know the answer to this, right you are; if not, go deep inside and look for them for the answers always await until you come inside. We are our own standards and once we’ve caught a glimpse of ourselves, of our true light in being … that light is loyal enough to never let us go. Whatever we sense, or see, or feel, or hear, or touch inside – it’s all good. And if your mind can’t categorize that as good yet, know that that exact thing is a call for love; your love.

We are here to do pure magic, get it?

We are pure magic! From head to toe.

But in order to let the magic shine through, we must love and accept ourselves first. We have to come to terms with all of our pieces because none are better then others. None! Sure, we have come to accept the light and the dark, the up and the down, the left and the right, and yes, even the right and the wrong. But we have only come to know these because we live in a dualistic reality, where it’s easier to understand our different pieces as contrasts. There is no harm in that – as long as we also keep in mind that all of these contrasts can only apply to our particular viewpoints (that are unavoidably the products of our upbringing, education and experiences).

Try not to label your contrasts as right or wrong. If you do that, you will show the world only the pieces in you that you think are right and hide the rest. And that’s fake. And not only is it not REAL, but it will make the unloved, unappreciated pieces of you either sink in and hold a grudge – or (if you’re anything like me) rebel.

All of our pieces are right, because they are ours and because they are real and thus make us REAL. And if they’re showing you a part of yourself that you don’t like or try to ignore or deprive of love or starve to death … they are here because of that alone: to point the finger.

Today bathe the parts that you don’t accept in yourself with love. And let them be.

They make you REAL.

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I am RICH

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The past ten days were quite intense. I know, I am fully aware of the fact that I often say this. It’s because I often feel this, too. And I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the decision that I made many a year ago: I will never be bored in this life. And although I still agree with this, I reject the notion that if’m not bored, I have to feel the exact opposite of »bored«. I reject the notion that we live in a boring, linear, either-or reality, because the world that I want to experience is jucier, richer, vaster, deeper, more abundant than that.

I have felt the need to dig deeper for as long as I can remember. The »why’s« seemed to have no end. And although I looked for answers in many places, I was more often than not – dissasitsfied. I didn’t conceptually know the answers to my questions, but the answers I was getting didn’t seem right; they didn’t click. They were what was know nor accepted within this linear society, but they weren’t the answers to my questions. In this society we are taught to see things white or black, good or bad, light or dark, up or down, and we are taught to favour only one: the white, the good, the light, the up. We are taught, many would argue, right, while wrong would mean … seeing things for what they really are?

Shakespeare said: »Nothing is either good or bad but thinking makes it so.«

It is time to learn ourselves subjectivity. Things are what they are, it’s just that. Yes, they stir emotions inside of us. Yes, we are here to feel all of the feels … but we are not here to dwell in them. We are here to use them as guidelines. If something stirs a feeling within us, let it come, for it’s here for us to gain from it.

No, I will never be bored in this live, I’m a single mother after all. What I will be is RICH with all of the abundant feelings that a powerful, creative, passionate woman’s life can be.

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A Sense of Worthiness

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When was the last time you asked yourself a couple of questions:

*What do I consider worthy?

*What is my worth?

I got to thinking about worth because I’m digging deep into my perception of abundance, and the two appear to be inherently linked, so let’s see.

I was talking to my grandmother the other day, when she suddenly asked me a question: “How worthy am I if your sister didn’t even come and say hi when she went away for her holiday?” My sister lives next door from her, so my grandmother expected her to come and greet before she set off.  She didn’t come, my grandmother felt hurt. Of course you’re not allowed to say out loud that you’re feeling hurt, because that would imply you’re vulnerable, which is totally unacceptable, so she asked me the above question to camouflage it. I told her that she was feeling hurt because she expected Jana to come and say hi and that Jana didn’t have anything to do with her worth; or rather, her sense of worthiness. That is something we decide for ourselves. You get to choose your worth by everything you do or say, every moment of every day.

She didn’t follow my lead. She couldn’t grasp the concept I was trying to feed her: “Me determining my own worth?! Bollocks.” I can understand that. She has after all been taught throughout her whole life that one’s worth is estimated by others given their attitude. External verification of one’s light is a domain that the patriarchal society and church have bestowed upon us.

In an attempt to change the subject, my grandmother went on to say she should have really cut her fingernails, but ran out of time because she prioritized doing everything else for everybody else instead. I exclaimed, eppur-si-muove-dly: “See, this is it! That’s the reason Jana never came to say goodbye! She doesn’t know your worth because you never affirmed it yourself.” Not only did she not affirm her worth, my grandma demeans it on every occasion. Whenever she invites us for lunch, she starts of my belittling herself and her work with: “oh, it’s not salty enough”, or “it’s too watery” and “this is only good to flush your bowels”. One can’t feel worthy when one says that. It’s just not possible. And when we thank her for the meal before leacing, she never says: “You’re welcome”. By that she would acknowledge her service and affirm her worth. Instead she always says: “Thank you? For that poverty?”

It breaks my heart to witness the suffocated feminine. But it’s us, it’s our generation who must change that; on behalf of our mothers, grandmothers and all of the generations of women who came before us. Only after we determine that we are the most important person in our lives, we start feeling worthy. And when we live out of that kind of worthy, others can see it and respect it, cherish it, monitor it, copy it. When we feel worthy, people around us can feel it, too, and therefore give us all the respect we want and need. But it is ourselves who must initiate it!

*What’s my worth?

To answer that, we need to get naked, both physically and spiritually, and ask ourselves: WHAT AM I …

… without my job

… without my flat

… without my family and friends

… without my money

… without my kids

… without the expressions of self, be it writing, singing, dance, macramé, yoga, ceramics, clothes or whatever way you find to bring the essence of self into something you can see and hold in your hands?

Worthiness is a big topic. It’s huge, actually. We’re not nearly done yet, for the more I am willing to open up and unveil the parts of me I didn’t know existed, the more vulnerable I feel. The more vulnerable I feel, the readier I become to shed off the shades. The more shades I disarm myself of, the stronger I stand in what’s remained.

And that is my worth, today.

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Being You and really Being It!

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I don’t think I have much to say today, but whatever I do, it’s going to be real. Count on it.

Being authentic is a new concept for me. I’m talking about being YOURSELF in any given moment and owning it.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I was faking and trying to please others most of my days up until now. Well, almost. Well, it actually might have been … and it started out when I was a kid. A chubby one. Who loved to eat and sing and talk and read encyclopaedias (my mind was very active very early), but who also felt that chubby wasn’t what was required of her. It wasn’t ok. So she started dieting at age eleven, because she thought that being skinny would make her ok. The dieting thing turned into anorexia at seventeen and to bulimia at nineteen and followed her into young adulthood. All she ever wanted was to be ok, really. But she never was, so long as she relied upon the verdict of well-meaning others. Once she was too fat, other times she was too skinny. Because she was never quite ok, the particularly sharp rebellious spirit living in her woke up and took the reins. Sure, she was a rebel, but was fighting against herself. Not knowing yourself brings you into the position where you’re not sure whose side you’re supposed to be on. So you take the hard way, because you read or and heard it one place everywhere that if you want something, you have got to fight and suffer for it. “No pain, no game,”, right?

Eating disorders are the hard way to authenticity, self-love and self-assurance. The day that I decided I was better than my friends because I didn’t give into temptation and eat the cookie like everybody else, I could have decided differently. I could have put on my bikini (we were in Sicily for a field trip) and look at myself into the mirror and I could have decided – there and then – to see beauty and youth; to feel love and shiny golden hair falling down my shoulders; to appreciate innocence, intelligence, humour, stubbornness, beautiful singing voice, a gift for writing, or anything else I could find. That would be the easy way, wouldn’t it? Think about it, being aware of all your talents and attributes surely makes for a good day, a good life, doesn’t it? But then again – how to you come to me aware? Doesn’t awareness have much to do with disciplining your mind into focusing on what good you can find, not what bad you stumble upon? So what is in fact the easy way?

I have come to the point in life where I believe loving yourself for all that you are is the easy way. It means appreciating yourself when you’ve taken the steps to rise, and it also means appreciating yourself when you’ve done something that’s not of the highest good for all and everyone. I’m talking about being whatever I’m being at the moment, and having the nerve to be it, the nerve to speak up.

This very moment, for me? What’s up is that I feel really tired. Even without Svarun I’ve been waking up at the exact same time as I do when we wake up on weekdays (nobody ever needs a watch) and I’ve been going to bed pretty late. Besides, I feel like I spent way too much time behind the screen today, working on a project with a friend. And my stomach is complaining about the lot of cheese and rice crackers that I ate half an hour ago, not out of hunger, but because I’m gently stressed out about something I need to do tomorrow morning. But I’m happy because my and Svarun’s home looks so nice and feels so clean; I’ve been moving furniture these past few days because I feel that our home needs a change. I’m grateful because I  got to start the day with yoga, meditation, sun and breeze in my favourite place in the world, the meadow, where I’ve been going since I was a little girl. I’m grateful to receive all of the inspiration that I receive daily; I’m grateful I can see it as inspiration. I’m grateful that my fears are weaker than my calling. I’m grateful to have a week for myself, but I’m even more grateful that my son is coming home soon.

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Spirituality and Mamahood

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Spirituality and mamahood. Where do they intersect?

Svarun went on a week-long holiday with my parents on Saturday. While I do believe it’s healthy and desirable that we spend 7 days out of 365 apart, I miss him a lot. And I feel guilty, too. Guilt is probably the number one emotion all mothers worldwide experience. We were conditioned with the role of a perfect mother and when we don’t live up to it, we feel guilty, all the while forgetting we’re only human with strengths and weaknesses.

On our Saturday’s sweat lodge that I talked about here, I received a very profound message.

(I say received, because I didn’t hear or read it anywhere, it just came to me formed in words, through my mind, and in into the knowing. I usually get such messages in form of words, because words are my chosen form of expression, but you may get it as a vision, a voice, a set of numbers. Receiving such messages from the Universe is what I call divine inspiration; it’s how the recipe for my synergy bars came to be. It’s as if I was reading the book of Universe that contains all that is, all that was and all that is yet to be.)

Back to the sweat lodge. When we made the fire to heat the rocks and sat down, forming half moon around the circle, the following knowing came to me:

Your task is to turn all of the conditions that your mind sees as weaknesses into your strengths; they are here to serve you.

I knew exactly what we were on about. I’m very devoted to my personal growth and spiritual practice, as I have been on and off for the past six years, but never to such an extent as now. But considering I’m a single mother who worked and raised her son at home for three and a half years until he went to kindergarten this February, I was not given much time to harness my internal peace. For three and a half years it meant either waking up really early and risking the exhaustion of my body, or the exhaustion of my mind that was craving 5 minutes of me-time. But even when I was given the five minutes, I didn’t know how to use them because I was avoiding myself and my darkness. I conceptually knew I should meditate, but never took the time to sit on the meditation pillow. As soon as Svarun finally fell asleep for his midday nap, I ran away from me and went … to the kitchen, to the internet, to clean something unnecessary, to do anything that would prevent me from facing the stillness. I lived in such frenzy that honestly, I didn’t know how I remained sane.

Now that I do all of my peace work, I still sometimes experience the contrast (that I talked about yesterday). Then my ego mind would try to come up with an excuse to set me free of the responsibility: “Well, I’m a mother. If only I had all the time in the world to invest in my spiritual journey, I would be a spiritual leader by now.” Bullshit. Nobody has 24/7 to invest in their spiritual practice. Besides, every situation we find ourselves in it’s because it is here to support us; they are not something we need to fight. Yep, even being a mompreneur and trying to meditate. I had the feeling long before Svarun was born, that I will grow with my first child. But up until now I wasn’t very good at putting that feeling into practice. For example, I would witness his reactions that were pissing me off, and I knew they were actually my reactions. They were the part of me that I didn’t want to acknowledge, so I felt the need to fight them, condition them, uproot them.

I don’t feel bad about it. But I do see now how every single circumstance is a blessing. Our children are showing us the mirror 24/7. It’s just copy-paste, copy-paste, copy-paste. They are a reflection of ourselves and when there is something in them that bothers us, it’s because we have it, too, but trying to ignore it.

And I thought I didn’t have enough time to devote to my spiritual practice?! Time is not something we have. Time is something we make.

Right now, I can either go back to trying to have the time for my meditation, yoga, and reading, or I take the time that I’m given with this precious being as devotion to my spiritual practice, such as it is. Just being with Svarun is a seminar in the very next things in and about me that must be dealt with in order to life a happier and healthier existence. The best part, thought? I know he thinks I’m fine just as I am. Children don’t have a hard time forgiving, us adults do. One time I asked Svarun why he choose me to be his mother, and he said: “Because you seemed young.” I didn’t fully understand his response then, but I know now what he wanted to say. He knew he was going to be my teacher, and he knew his mother was going to grow as she went.

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