I hope you’ll take a moment to read and listen to the amazing voice and words of my friend and Finnish singer Jonna. She has an incredible story and message to share. That is why I’m posting her blog here today, for you to get inspired, listen to her music and if you want to, pre-order her album. We all need a SOUND MIND. Thanks Jonna!
Have you ever thought how powerful music can be? How it can bring a smile on your face or give you something to think about?
I am a fairly young woman still (32 years old) but I have had my fair share of challenges and struggles in life…an alcoholic mother with bipolar, parents divorce, my own divorce, my mother’s death and a challenge to keep my depression-prone mind healthy.
We don’t often talk about our mental challenges with other people, but I know that having a sound mind is something that many people struggle with. I wanted to write music that could bring mental health awareness by openly talking about those negative feelings and thoughts that can cloud our happiness.
My first single release “Still Breathing” from the album “Sound Mind” is about depression. How one can feel so helpless with those negative thoughts and emotions. I personally think that being aware of those thoughts is the first step to recovery.
Once I had realized that those negative thoughts were not the same as me, I could either choose to listen to them or throw them out of my mind. I decided to do the latter and wrote the song “Out of My Head” about it.
I noticed that I felt happier when I tried to find things to be grateful for in my everyday life. While sitting in my car in traffic I would stop and try to hear the beautiful silence underneath the traffic hour. Or while walking to the bus, I would keep my eyes open for the beauty around me, such as sun beams shining like diamonds in the snow. Those moments put a smile on my face and I wanted to share them with others in my song “Smile”.
Even if one doesn’t have depression or some other mental illness, having a sound mind is not something we can take for granted. Just like having a healthy body, in order to have a healthy mind, we need to nourish it and exercise our “muscles.” Learning to forgive easily is one of those muscles that help us have a sound mind. Or if we feel like we’re entitled to judge others, we clearly have something to work on in ourselves. Also not being too hard on ourselves is something that can help us acheive greater happiness.
Three songs “Art of Forgiveness”, “In My Shoes” and “Proud of me” all help me think healthy thoughts and have a sound mind.
This album has been my journey through my struggles and I truly believe that it can touch other peoples lives as well. If you want to help me in this cause, you can get your own copy of the album today. You can pre-order it through my crowdfunding campaign.
I started an indiegogo campaign so that I could cover the final costs of the album and release it this spring. The campaign will end on the 21st of February 2015.
Here’s a link to my campaign page: http://igg.me/at/jonna/x/8814822
And you can watch my 2 min video about the campaign here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfMUepy3E4k
Thank you so much for reading. Hope these thoughts were helpful and wish you a very happy new year 2015! Remember, luck is an attitude!! Keep thinking healthy thoughts! 🙂
If you haven’t thrown out your Christmas Tree yet, then you still have time to enact one of Sweden’s oldest and most well-known Christmas traditions, Plundering the Tree, Julgransplundring. Think of it as a Viking raid on your Christmas Tree, only with candy. Yeah okay, I’ll explain. Just so you know, it’s about the most fun you can have in a night, aside from Christmas, (which is tough to beat).
Here’s what you do…gather up some fun folks. Families, neighbors, anyone Swedish you happen to know. Invite them to dinner; ask everyone to bring a handful of individually wrapped candy. Easy right? Here’s some of the crew that got together at my friend’s house.To make it easy, serve hotdogs Swedish style with shrimp and mayo on top. Not a fan? Have it your way, beans and cheese or ketchup and relish. The point is to eat pig products. I’m not sure why, but Christmas time is when you eat ham or “korv,” as they call hotdogs and this is more about serving something simple.
When everyone has eaten, throw away the paper plates, (if you’re Swedish you’ll recycle). Then get to the good stuff. Everyone lays their candy on a table so each person can select a handful of their favorites and stuff an empty toilet paper roll. Stay with me here…you’re going to make a candy ornament, a smällkaramell. You do this by wrapping the roll in tissue paper and adding colorful stickers and ribbons. Here’s what the tissue paper looks like before you add the roll.Even the teenagers were happy to get in on this craft project.
Here’s a finished one around Maggie’s neck. Now undecorate your tree. Everyone can help. This is handy. Christmas will get put away in a jiffy. Be ready with a basket to collect your decorations, lights too, then pull the tree away from the walls or windows and center it in the middle of the room so you have space to dance around the tree. Here’s our helpful bunch. Everyone puts their candy ornaments on the tree, then forms a circle holding hands. Someone starts the music (that will probably be you), and you all begin dancing! A simple Google search will turn up the traditional songs. Here are two links you can clink on for the most popular ones.
Små grodorna-little frogs (A song about a small green frog and how funny he looks.)
Mormors lilla kråka-Grandmas old crow (A song about a crow that can’t drive.)
Keep in mind the songs are silly kid tales, (the same ones sung at Mid-summer). You won’t achieve enlightenment, but you will have fun. Just sing and dance around and enjoy the occasion. This part of the evening can last for a while…in olden times Swedes not only danced around the tree, they danced through every room of the house and into the neighbor’s house, but unless you’ve forewarned your neighbors, I’d stick to your own rooms, if you know what I mean. Don’t think this is just for kids either, adults have fun too.
After about 20-30 minutes, most everyone is ready to collapse or eat candy. So stop the music and do THE ROCKET! Oh my goodness this is loud. This is fun. This is crazy!! This is even crazier if you drink Schnapps (good thing we didn’t, we were all Mormon in this group so it’s apple cider for us). Now stomp your feet and clap your hands, fast, faster, even FASTER, and FASTER, then shout like you’ve just been shot off on a rocket to the moon or you’re on the scariest thrill ride of your life. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!” If the walls aren’t shaking it’s not loud enough. LOUDER!!!
Whew! Okay, it’s over. Time to raid the tree! No more rules, (unless you made some up). Get the candy and join the brouhaha or step aside. Dig in and enjoy!
With the tree empty, it’s ready to toss, so ask some helpers to finish the job. Unless of course, it’s fake, then don’t. For the grand finale, throw down a blanket on the floor and put your gingerbread house on top (every Swede has one). It’s time to smash the house. Someone with a heavy fist can take a whack. When bits go flying, grab a piece.
The wonderful thing about Julgransplundring is that each part of the evening is significant, each activity or decoration has meaning. In olden times, the Swedish people were poor. They didn’t have money to decorate a tree so they used the most beautiful things they had, shiny red apples. The children waited all Christmas long to toss out the tree and get their “treat.”
They made ornaments out of straw as a way to celebrate and give thanks to the harvest. Using the straw to make something beautiful, like a star, paid homage to the great worth of the crop. The other common decorations Swedes make out of straw are goats. Before Santa Claus, it was a goat who brought the presents.
In olden times, during the long and restless winters, kids and adults played jokes on one other. For fun, they would attach an insulting note to a rock and throw it in through the neighbor’s open door. Literally, “hurling” an insult.
Tomtar are another iconic symbol of a Swedish Christmas. They are short little elfin creatures that bring good or bad fortune to a family. It used to be, if a family’s pig died, or some other misfortune happened around Christmastime, that people would say the family didn’t take care of their tomtar and make him good warm porridge. It was important to feed your tomtar porridge and even today, Swedes eat this rice pudding dish for breakfast on Christmas and all through the season. You can see some of our Swedish (and German nutcrackers) on display. Our tomtar is sitting on the left and he ate plenty of candy and cookies for Christmas, in fact I’m blaming him for most of what was eaten.
What I love most about these yearly rituals is that they bring people together, both culturally and socially. Traditions are fun, but more importantly, they provide a link for our children to the past and the future. It doesn’t matter what tradition you establish, silly or serious, chose something to create lasting memories with your family and friends. Our traditions often change, depending on which country we live in, but my hope is that one day my kids will look back on Christmas and New Year’s as a time that brought us closer together and gave us a better appreciation for the culture of Christmas all over the world.
Not so long ago, 2015 was the date of the dun, dun, dun…FUTURE. As kids we imagined this future while reading copies of Boy’s Life, sketching our hovercraft (that would be built with mom’s Electrolux). Our village of Sea Monkeys would be grown by now with families of their own…the best laid plans. Then again, I don’t think the world was ready for our flying vacuum, or communities of Sea Monkeys.
What is the world ready for? What are you ready for? Are you making plans?
The thing about making plans is that they rarely go as planned. It’s fantastic to set goals and work hard, but it’s important to leave room for what you can’t plan…life. Take your schedule with a healthy dose of trust, knowing that life will always give you twists and turns. Map the journey but don’t get discouraged when you take a wrong bend; it’s leading you to the scenic route you didn’t even know existed.
Back in college a professor assigned us to write a list of 100 things we’d do in our lifetime. He told us to “dream big.” I was young enough to take the assignment seriously. Eighteen and immortal, my list was longer than 100 things…ha! I was going to change the world and on top of that make a million bucks before I turned thirty, get a Ph.D. in marriage family therapy and open a clinic, and yes read ALL of the classics. Good intentioned stuff. Afterwards the professor told us if we accomplished even a quarter of what we’d written on our lists, we’d be some of the most successful people around. But as I’ve come to experience life, I realize now his advice, however well-intentioned, was wrong.
Because “success” doesn’t come from ticking off a to-do list and it’s not about how much money you make or the degrees you acquire or the stuff you can cram into your days. Success has nothing to do with reading the classics, although it can, if it’s what you truly love and want to do.
Success has to come from within. It’s got to be your own vision of what you want for your life, not what someone else has defined or what society has defined. And here’s what my professor never told me about success (but I’m telling you): You can’t have it all. Not all at once and maybe never.
Alain de Botton in his lecture, A Kinder, Gentler Philosophy Of Success, shares this philosophy:
“You can’t be successful at everything. We hear a lot of talk about work balance. Nonsense. You can’t have it all. You can’t. So any vision of success has to admit what it’s losing out on.”
There is wisdom in accepting that you can’t do everything and anything. Knowing this will prevent guilt and discouragement. Thinking you can somehow balance a career and motherhood and eat vegan and keep up with Pinterest and still make time for yoga and whatever else is just not reality. It’s not fair. It’s like trying to enjoy the ocean view while you’re drowning.
Had I stuck to the list I wrote in college, I’d be in a very different place now. I wouldn’t have moved outside the US–I’d have been too busy getting degrees and forging my career–I might not have even had four children, I would have never met the people I’ve become friends with around the globe or gained an education gleaned by experience. I would have missed out on the best BEST parts of my life!
We use the term “Dream Big,” but what does that mean? How big? Why does it have to be so BIG? What would happen if we dreamed small…focused on one small but meaningful goal/project/endeavor and gave our energies to that?
Vincent Van Gogh said, “I am still far from being what I want to be, but with God’s help I shall succeed.”
In Van Gogh’s lifetime he never felt successful but he stayed passionately in pursuit of his one goal, his personal vision and gave the world not only his art, but perhaps more importantly, a model for what success means.
It’s important to strive. We should always be learning, always stretching ourselves. But stay open to the possibilities. Van Gogh also said, “I’m not an adventurer by choice but by fate.” In life we’re all fated to be adventurers. We all sojourn. Not one of us has the map from beginning to end. We forge ahead and when we reach unfamiliar terrain we have to slow down and take it one step at a time. But wherever you are in your journey, be thankful you’re on it. Be grateful you’ve got today and the next to be where you are, even if you’re not where you want to be yet.
The Roman philosopher Horace admonished,
“Whatever hour God has blessed you with, take it with grateful hand, nor postpone your joys from year to year, so that in whatever place you have been, you may say that you have lived happily.”
I’ve got my goals for 2015. I’m sure they won’t all go as planned, but I’m equally certain that whatever happens it will be exactly what needs to happen for me to grow and learn. What matters most, is that I’m with the people I love, doing the things I love. “I tell you, the more I think, the more I feel that there is nothing more artistic than to love people.” Van Gogh
“Be the author of your own ambition,” Alain de Botton says, “Make sure [y]our ideas of success are truly [y]our own.” If you do that then 2015 is going to be a great year; you can plan on it!
The 30-hour ankle is done. Actually, it’s never done. To get it perfect, I could have spent another several hours making tiny, minute changes that would still not have produced an exact match to the original Charles Bargue copy. But in the end, that wasn’t the point–to make a perfect match. The point was to get it as close to the original as possible while achieving something in the learning process. The point was to train the eye.
What I learned: Slow Down. Drawing requires the mind and the body to work together. The visual sense must first register what it sees so the hand can listen and the pencil can respond. It’s all very step 1, step 2, step 3. You can’t rush it or you’ll miss things. Patiently layering the HB graphite, I could achieve the necessary depth to transform the lead into the smooth soft stone of the cast.
The lesson of slowing down is essential and one I hope to remember. The other take-away: Art, as in life, will never be complete. When Sammy Davis Jr. was asked which of his songs was his favorite, he responded, “the next one.” There’s always more. It’s what we call self-mastery and it’s what makes life worth striving for: We don’t live to create, we create to live.
Creativity is an ongoing evolutionary process. It is a birthright. All children are born with the innate gift to create. They’ll do ANYTHING. Paint macaroni and string it on necklaces, run their hands through finger paint, glue glitter to paper hearts. We don’t need special permission to pick up a pen and write, or a pencil to draw. Everyone has a story. Everyone has something to contribute.
If you think time is the enemy, your wrong, resistance is. Slow down. What do you want to create? The process of making anything, if done slowly, can be art. Art transcends time itself.
Vincent Van Gogh said, “If you hear a voice within yourself say ‘you cannot paint,’ then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.”
As I move onto my next project, the words of Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club, come to mind…
“I say let me never be complete, I say may I never be content, I say deliver me from Swedish furniture, I say deliver me from clever arts, I say deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth, I say you have to give up! I say evolve, and let the chips fall where they may!”
The process of learning means you do something before you actually know how to do it. In other words, it’s just fine to make a mess. And messes I’ve been making. In my drawing course, I’ve been drawing an ankle for over 15 hours. Not all in one go, but during intense intervals of concentration. An ANKLE people! Which at one point looked like a cankle, but okay…and it seemed so simple at first. But now that I’ve spent ALL this time seeking total perfection, on an ankle, my view of drawing has changed everything; I mean everything. I’ve learned something, and it’s not just about drawing an ankle. I’ve learned I’ve got to respect my mistakes.
Mistakes are the starting point. They’re necessary–not figuratively, but in reality. When drawing, the artist has to make some initial marks on the paper in order to find the point of measurement to affix the plump line. The plumb line is the line that runs through the middle of the drawing and never, ever, EVER, changes. All the other points and marks originally made…they change. Those original marks are erased and adjusted hundreds of times. By definition they’re mistakes, but they’re not because you needed them. You get what I’m saying? In order to begin, you had to begin. The artist doesn’t just start the sketch at the perfect point, not usually, no way, it’s guess work and after years of training the eye, it goes faster, but it still starts with guess work.
“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.” –Scott Adams
The drawing technique I’m referring to is the genius of Charles Bargue, a French artist who introduced his Cours de dessin (drawing course) in the late 1800’s. Since that time, his method for learning how to draw has been the standard used by countless artists, including Van Gogh.
The process is a very slow one. You can’t rush things. Seeing takes time. The artist’s eye must notice every curve, contour, slope, angle, turn and trajectory, while keeping in mind that anything can be changed. Every mark is a chess piece. Make a move and it sets off another. Draw and redraw. Match after match.
During the final stages of my sketch, I realized something about my ankle wasn’t right. The angle of the bone protruding from the tendon was a millimeter too narrow. How had I missed it? In a fit of frustration, I erased a long portion of my line just before my instructor came to critic my work. The first thing he asked when he sat at my easel was, “What happened to your line?”
I explained. It was “off” so I’d erased it. His response was a moment of clarity for me: “Always redraw the new line before you erase the old. Use the former as a guide. You must have respect for the lines you put down. That is what you chose to create, so respect it.”
Without the form of the bone, it was difficult to judge what else was going on in the picture. I needed the line as a reference point for the other distances and relationships. As I began to fix it, I considered my rush toward perfection, my frustration, and the word “respect.” Had I ever thought to respect the lines, the ones I’d been erasing? Had I seen the process for what it was—the objective—helping me become the artist I want to be?
That question led me to other questions. What else in my life had I drawn and what parts had I erased? Did I have respect for my choices, the ones I made using the skill set I had and the judgment I was capable of at the time?
And what about the lines I was drawing now with my actions–the path I was creating. Where was my plumb line?
The answers have come slowly over the past few days. What I’ve concluded is that living in an imperfect world doesn’t diminish my faith, it strengthens it. I can believe in a God who trusts in the process, a God who allows imperfections to exist so we can master the art of living. God never changes so we can. His love is constant. We aren’t. God doesn’t hold the measuring stick; He is the measuring stick…we chose where to plot the points.
My guess is that too often we view our mistakes as weaknesses, as something that is wrong. We think if we were better, more talented, gifted, intellectual then mistakes wouldn’t happen to us. Instead of respect, we regret the decisions which have shaped our learning process. But in the big picture of who we are, the mistakes are part of the final product—they’re beautiful.
“Have no fear of perfection—you’ll never reach it,” said Salvador Dalí.
Perfection takes time, if it’s even possible. I don’t know. Maybe it is achievable in some aspects of life, but if it is to be achieved, then it can only be reached by making mistakes. One of my favorite artists Monet, once remarked, “My life has been nothing but a failure.” If that is true, then your greatest triumphs might just be your biggest mistakes. Respect where you’ve been. Use it as a guide for where you want to go. Erase and adjust. And so on…
“What are you willing to give up? How teachable are you?” Hans, my instructor asked, before we even put pencil to paper. Last week I began my art course at SARA, The Stockholm Academy of Realistic Art, a preliminary course intended for artists who want to apply to their three-year intensive program. I’d determined I was ready to take my art to the next level, but I’d been afraid too. Making this step took not only courage, but a lot of juggling with our family’s schedule. I was making a sacrifice and so were they. I’d made an investment in myself. I was here to learn, but I was also feeling the fear.
“The most difficult obstacle,” Hans continued, “is your own mind. Your mind will tell you it can’t be done, voices will urge you to give up…you’re too old, you’re too inexperienced, you’re not a quick learner, this is too impossible, the standards are too high.” I could feel my head nodding. I’d heard similar voices.
Steven Pressfield, in his book “The War of Art,” calls this “resistance.” Resistance kicks in whenever we try to do something better, different, innovative, or “or evolve to a high[er] station morally, ethically, or spiritually.” If you’ve ever met with negative voices in your head, you know what I’m talking about. Pressfield’s rule of thumb: “The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the [more] Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it.”
“He who fears to suffer, suffers from fear.” –Proverb
Success depends on getting out of your own way. Sometimes you just have to keep your head out of it. Put the ego in the back seat and let your soul drive. As we went around the room introducing ourselves, we were told to say our name and why we were in the course. Most said they were there to improve their “hobby.” One young blond Swede with hunched shoulders said he was going to “give it a try,” see how he liked it. The instructor said: “I don’t like the word try. You’re going to do it.” Gulp.
Another guy said he was scared to death to be there, but that he wanted to be an artist. His voice shook a little. I could feel his fear because it mirrored some of my own self-doubts. I admired his courage.
But fear isn’t all bad. Fear is the starting to point to great things. It’s what we feel when we risk change. If we stop at the point of fear, resistance wins. But if we know what we’re up against, know what fear is—the gateway—then we can perceive fear as a message. Fear is pointing the way to exactly where we need to go.
If you feel a lot of fear, then take it in degrees. Don’t set yourself up for failure. Dream BIG, but start small. In my drawing course we don’t begin with rendering the full human figure, we begin by copying a two-dimensional illustration of a hand. We spend enormous amounts of time training our eyes, breaking down the complex into the abstract. We look at the shapes of things, notice where they are in relationship to each other. It’s the way the Old Masters studied their craft, a technique that has been passed down through the ages. The standards are extremely high, but no one is expected to attain the skills overnight.
And what is the benefit of doing what we’re afraid of? The benefit is that you live. You LIVE and live more fully!
“If you deliberately plan on being less than you are capable of being, then I warn you that you’ll be unhappy for the rest of your life.” –Abraham H Maslow
Remaining stuck in fear will cause all kinds of problems. They’ll take on different names, different forms, you’ll assign different reasons for the chaos in your life, blame others, anything that will make you forget what you wanted to do in the first place. Resistance will tell whatever lie you will believe… until you stop listening.
“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” –Anais Nin
NOW, is a fantastic word. It’s the word we need to combat resistance. Because NOW, is now. Not yesterday or tomorrow and you can start now, to do whatever it is that you want to do. You don’t have to wait for anything. You don’t have to wait for problems to end, or children to grow up, or for the sun to come out, or for the holidays to be over… to begin. You just start now. Start small. Dream big. Take a risk. What is fear telling you not to do? Go do it.
Yeah, okay…I’m going to go draw now.
A mist has settled over the Baltic outside my window. The boats, and not so distant trees, are shrouded in a gauzy grey. On the far end of the inlet the land has disappeared altogether. There’s only sky and water.
Were I a sailor, new to these parts, I’d embark on my journey supposing nothing existed beyond my shore. I’d be wrong. I’ve seen what’s there on a sunny day, but right now it’s unclear…much like life…I don’t know what’s ahead, I just have to trust.
Here are a few things that I’m trusting:
I’m trusting God has a plan for my son. He leaves on his mission in a little over two months. His assignment: Indianapolis, Indiana, USA. I don’t know a single soul in that state. I’ve never been there, well…driven through, but I don’t recall stopping. Still, I have faith there’s a reason, there’s something there, a person, an experience, a life lesson for him to glean. I don’t see it yet, but I’m trusting God will lead the way.
I’m trusting that the human spirit is stronger than cancer. I learned this week my mom has cancer. I was broken hearted for her, for myself, for our family. Suddenly I felt unmoored–a ship during a winter’s squall, tossing in waves of fear and doubt. And then I prayed. I squinted hard into the distance and saw the faintest outlines of hope. That hope began with gratitude, seeing all there was to be thankful for: friends, family, prayers, doctors, medicines, nurses, kind words, and thoughtful gestures.
They say to beat cancer you need a positive outlook and a reason to fight. My mom has both. She was born during the onset of The Great Depression, lived during times of war. For over 20 years she moved around the world supporting my dad’s career in the military. In the early 70’s she got her detective’s license and to this day, at the age of 82, she does the bookwork for the investigative company my dad built and retired from a decade ago. In the fight against cancer, we don’t know what’s ahead, but I’m trusting my mom will do battle, and she’ll have the love and support she needs.
I’m trusting that love is a language. For those of you unfamiliar with my faith, in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we have no paid ministry. The congregation takes turns “preaching” on Sundays, we call it giving talks. We accept “callings,” volunteer positions to teach, organize or lead within the congregation. For example, you might be asked to lead music, teach 5-year-old’s Sunday school or work with teenaged youth. Recently, I was called to be the Relief Society President. My job is to help organize, teach and otherwise tend to the needs of 140 Swedish women. Did I mention I don’t speak Swedish? But where our language doesn’t meet, our hearts do. I have some amazing and talented woman I work with and together we discuss and figure out what we need to do.
The thing about volunteering at church, or anywhere for that matter, is that it takes you out of your own problems. You get more than you give. You experience life through another’s eyes and glimpse the miracle we all are—how we’re all connected, no matter what our differences. It makes me think of the Ray Bradbury quote,
“We are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will. Incredible. The Life Force experimenting with forms. You for one. Me for another. The Universe has shouted itself alive. We are one of the shouts.”
I’m trusting a move back to America will be good for our family, while Cooper serves in Iraq. We got our next assignment; rather, Cooper was given the assignment he asked for, Iraq. We’ve been through a year apart before when he was in Pakistan, (the year Maggie was born in Pennsylvania). It was the year I found out what I was made of, (and cried a lot), a defining year, but one I vowed never to repeat. So of course we’re doing it again, only this time the kids are older and come to think of it, I’m older too. Maybe it’s also because I’m angry, because I’ve watched too many innocent people die, but this time I’m okay with him leaving. I’m proud of him for getting involved and making a difference. I trust Cooper. And that’s another reason I love him.
I’m trusting I don’t need to worry about what’s ahead. When life feels overwhelming, it’s usually because I’m thinking about the past or obsessing about the future. I’ll worry about things that I have no control over or decisions that I won’t need to make until next year or years after that. Anthony de Mello, a Jesuit priest, said,
“The present moment is never intolerable. What’s intolerable is what’s going to happen in the next four hours. To have your body here at 8 pm and your mind at 10:30 pm, that’s what causes us suffering.”
It takes conscious practice to live in the moment, to remember, as Winston Churchill said, “The chain of destiny can only be grasped one link at a time.” If I’m reaching for the next link, I can’t hold onto what I have right now, and what I have now is pretty darn amazing. I have my family and the people I love, so I’m going to love them as much as I can right now. That’s what I can do.
Life is a trust walk. In 1974, Philippe Petit, a French high-wire artist, illegally crossed a cable between the two World Trade Center Towers in NYC. His feat was 6 years in the making and stunned audiences below. For 45 minutes he traipsed back and forth holding a 55-pound balancing pole a quarter of a mile above the ground knowing that every step could potentially be his last. The danger, the risk, how much trust it took to walk back and forth across that wire is what astounds us and the reason why years later, a documentary was made about his life.
Life is a trust walk. We put one foot in front of the other, while holding the weight of something heavy—be that what it may. If you’re feeling wobbly, trying to stay steady, keep Petit’s advice in mind:
“You must not force yourself to stay steady. You must move forward.” That is the secret.
Moving forward. Staying in motion. “The essential thing is to etch movements in the sky, movements so still they leave no trace. The essential thing is simplicity. That is why the long path to perfection is horizontal.”
Trusting is making those tiny movements, so subtle sometimes only our heart can feel them. But one tiny shift can change the way we think, the way we approach life, the way we live. We don’t need to see what’s ahead, we can just be grateful it’s there. Gratitude brings hope—we can trust in that. Start with gratitude.
With the change of seasons, I’m pulling out my winter craft projects. Everyone needs one. “Yeah, sorry, I can’t get up now, I’m MAKING something.” Currently, it’s crocheting baskets. I begin with ripping up fabric like the Hulk tearing off his clothes…it’s extremely rewarding. Arrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Then I take all those little scraps, roll them into balls and (in theory) crochet the strips into a circle. Once you get the circle base, you can crochet up the sides until you have a basket, or a potholder if you really screwed things up. (Isn’t it great that most mistakes in life can be turned into potholders?).
Here’s one my friend made (mine still looks like a potholder.)
I think the balls could be decoration enough in a bowl or basket, don’t you?
And here’s the thing…this might look like no big deal, right? Sheesh, basket making… but you’d be wrong. It is a very big deal and I’ll tell you why. It’s not just the object itself—the colors, the form, the utility of the thing–it’s the act of creating, slowing down, focusing on something that requires more hands and more heart.
A Swedish friend told me yesterday about a new study recommending people engage in some type of hands-on project daily. According to the study, the human brain is getting too much use, overloaded with technology and information. Too much thinking!!! Here I thought some people weren’t using their brains enough, but apparently, that’s a different problem.
So, tell me…when is the last time you made something? I mean built something, carved something, whittled, sewed, took apart a lawn mower and rebuilt it again. If your answer is Jr. High Home Econ., then you probably lived in the 80’s. And thank goodness you did, because back then handicrafts were “handy” and tax funds were actually allocated for me to destroy a lawn mower in “Shop Class.” Those were the days…woodshop, sewing, cooking, metal shop! Your mom probably still has your potholder.
It’s time to pull out those skills and make something. Because…two reasons.
1. Your brain needs a rest
2. The world is freaking crazy!!!
That’s why. Like what is going on? Wars and people jihading and killing Christians and Ferguson and scandals and Ebola and earthquakes and immigrants sending their kids on boats to America and good people, funny people, nice people committing suicide?
If you can sit down, take your mind off your problems for thirty minutes, who am I kidding, thirty seconds, then do it! String together a couple of torn up pieces of fabric that were headed to the trash bin anyway and make something, a potholder! Call it a good day because you’re alive, because you’re still breathing and you’ve got one more day to tell the people in your life you love them, one more day to witness miracles. Because even though we live in a crazy mixed up world—there are still miracles.
Babies are born, people get married, maybe not the people you want to get married, but fine, can we at least be happy there ARE people willing to say “till death do us part” and stick it out through “sickness and health.” There are lesser miracles too—strawberries, for instance, violins—the sound of horsehairs (of all things) on strings, the fact that you can pull a Kleenex out of a box and another one appears—how great is that? And gravity. Let’s not forget gravity.
Using our brains too much, focusing entirely on the problems of the world, or your own problems, will drive you insane.
You can go insane or rip fabric. Those are your choices.
That’s all I’m saying. Yes, be an advocate, get involved, serve your country, but do some handicrafts too. Carve walking sticks. I’m convinced that is why my father-in-law is so calm and healthy. When you carve you create something that lasts. Give it as a gift and you also create a smile.
Here in Sweden, carving is a tradition. The Dala Horse, famous as the national symbol of Sweden, came about as a result of soldiers keeping their hands busy during wintertime, sitting by the fire, carving horses for children. To this day you can visit the town of Dalarna and buy these hand-carved horses.
Knit, water color, tool leather. If at the end of a bad day you can put your hands to a task and your mind to rest, slow your heart rate, give your brain a rest (science says you need to), then by all means do it. Everyone needs a potholder.
Last Sunday evening, Cooper and I decided to go for a walk in Stockholm. One of those last minute things…
You want to go? Yeah, sure. OK. Let’s go.
On a Sunday, the city is only a 10-minute drive from home. No traffic. We put on our Nike’s and we’re literally there, minutes later, looking at I’m not even sure what…amazing buildings. That’s what they are, amazing, overlooking the waterways that take you directly to the Baltic Sea.
The weather is perfect. People are gathering at outdoor restaurants, sitting in parks, eating ice cream. I look at Cooper and say, “We live in Stockholm.” I forget sometimes, when I’m busy being a mom, that I actually have access to all of THIS, all of this culture and beauty.
I’m glad I brought my camera. I’m glad I decided to venture out. I’m glad I’m with Cooper and that we have four kids and that we move every couple of years. Suddenly, I’m glad about everything, including this modern structure. I have no idea what it is, but I like it, the vertical steel folding out and in on itself like a roll of wrapping paper come undone.
Stockholm is mix of modern and old, eclectic and dynamic, one moment steel and glass, the next, a turn back in history to Romanticism and Baroque. It’s like one huge museum.
We walk along the bridge to Gamla Stan “the town between bridges,” and take in the views of the Royal Palace. This is the oldest part of the city, dating back to the 13th century. History abounds. From here we can see the harbors of Skeppsbron and Sodermalm.
I love all the bridges. They’re romantic…something about hovering above the water, the endless deep, catching shadows of your reflection. It’s dreamy. It’s become the trend for couples to celebrate their love by putting padlocks on bridges. And this bridge has its share, locks in various sizes and shapes, some with lovers initials, some with the traditional plus sign, “Axel + Anna,” the equivalent of carving names into a tree surrounded by a big heart. Love in the 21st century.
We move on, walking under the freeway, the E18. I’m not sure why this fascinates me so much. I pause, staring at the concrete pylons, the light reflected off the water, the magic that’s holding up the bridge. How is this holding up the bridge? I think this “underground” has a cool vibe, like it should be in a music video, and the name of a band should be, Under the Bridge. Urban grunge. But then I smell urine (another scent of the city), so we don’t linger for long.
Built between 1911-1923, it took twelve years and nearly eight million red bricks to put this thing together. I’m in awe. I can’t stop looking up at the golden starlet at the top. I almost trip over myself. I look down to see where I’m stepping and notice the surrounding gardens are magnificent too, a maze of hedges. People are sitting, relaxing, enjoying the views. There’s a man taking pictures of his girlfriend, couples with strollers and kids darting about. It’s a big hit with the tourists, I think, smiling, feeling local (wink).
The sun is going down. I want to get back across the bridge, take a few more pictures, before daylight is gone. We exit the courtyard and as we make our way back, we hear music. Two American folk singers. Their harmony is pitch perfect. Cooper and I hold hands, listen for a while. I feel like I’m back in college. But then the song ends, I remember I have kids and think, they’re probably hungry, they’re probably fixing PB&J’s by now, someone has probably found the ice cream sandwiches I’ve hidden in the freezer, and I don’t even care. I’m having way too much fun to worry about nutrition.
We cross another bridge and it’s dusk. We pass a coral red church. The sky is luminescent. The flowers are in late summer’s full bloom, a pulsing scent of sweet musky fragrance is carried on a light breeze. I breathe deeply.
We’re getting closer to where we parked, but before we do, I spot TGI Fridays. I see the blazing “American” sign and feel proud. Because there are Swedes in there eating plates of American ribs and molten lava chocolate cakes, washing it down with Coke-a-Cola and getting a little taste of home, my home.
We find our car, with our California plates, and I suddenly think…it’s our last year in Sweden. I have to make the most of it, take nothing for granted. I hope that’s possible. This isn’t a typical Sunday. I usually don’t bask in all Stockholm has to offer. I forget. But this is a start, right? A pretty good start.