Dakajam 2014: “Ben ik bang?”

Ik loop de heuvel op rond de kuil, op zoek naar mijn neefje Noah. Hij is eenvoudig te vinden, hij is druk met van de steile heuvel afglijden. Ik loop iets verder en hoor een ‘snik’, iemand huilt of doet net alsof. Wanneer ik om de boom heen stap zie ik haar zitten op handen en voeten. Zwarte vegen op het gezicht, snottebellen en dikke tranen rollen. Kalm loop ik op haar toe en kniel op een afstandje. “Wat is er aan de hand?”, vraag ik verbaasd. Het meisje kijkt angstig en verdrietig op van de grond. Met een klein stemmetje laat ze weten; “Ik durf er niet meer van af, het is zo hoog.” Ik reik haar mijn hand toe, ‘pak mijn hand’, ze neemt hem aan. ‘Kijk eens naar mijn ogen’, haar blik vindt mijne. “Kom, dan staan we samen op”, ze beeft en wiebelt een beetje, toch strekt ze haar benen. Samen staan we op het topje. Ze snikt, snottert en haar knieën zoeken de balans en vinden beetje bij beetje evenwicht.

Geknield voor haar, ze kijkt mij aan en verteld. “Ik ben bang, want het is zo hoog, en ik durf niet naar beneden.” Ik lach haar toe en vraag “Weet je wat dat betekent, als je bang bent voor iets?” Zij schudt verlegen haar hoofd. “Het betekent gewoon dat je nog even moet oefenen en daarna ben je niet meer bang.” Nog een tikje terughoudend knikt ze bevestigend. “Samen oefenen?”, ze fleurt op. We slaan de handen ineen, goed vasthouden, dan kan er niks gebeuren. Dan beginnen we te glijden, op onze voeten de berg af. Zij snikt en snottert, glimlacht en schrikt dan, omdat mijn voet wegglijd.

Vijf seconden later wrijft ze tranen en snottebellen aan de kant, ik sta lachend onderaan de heuvel. We praten over dat het best spannend is en dat geeft een gek gevoel in je buik. We gaan nog een keer oefenen, hand in hand klauteren we omhoog. ‘Kijk hoe de andere kinderen het doen, op handen en voeten, houd je vast aan die wortel. Grijp die tak. Zet je voeten stevig neer. Komop, laatste stukje!’ Dan gaat het mis, een rennend kind stoot haar aan op de top en de tranen vloeien rijkelijk. Ze klampt zich vast aan mij. Een ‘ik durf niet’ wordt zachtjes en met een hoog stemmetje uitgesproken. Ik ga op mijn hurken zitten, zij zit snikkend en schichtig op mijn knie. Ik praat over de bomen, het zonlicht op de bladeren, de hut achter de berg. Daar hebben ze ballonnen, hoe komen ze daar aan? Er is toch geen circus in het bos? We zijn het samen eens, die hebben ze van huis meegenomen.

Tranen drogen op, snottebellen verdwijnen in een mouw. We kijken samen hoe de andere kinderen het doen. Glijden, klimmen, vallen, rollen en van boom naar boom slingeren. “Wat wil je doen? Stoppen of meer oefenen?”

Ik verwachtte dat ze wilde stoppen en naar beneden zou willen. Ze verrastte mij. “meer oefenen”, zei ze en stond op. Samen gleden we nog eens op onze voeten van de heuvel, klauterden weer omhoog omhoog en gingen dit keer glijdend naar beneden. Bij de derde keer omhoog klimmen besluit ze dat het tijd is voor de meest beangstigende ‘glijbaan’.

Mijn neefje Noah gaat eerst en doet het voor. Dan gaat ze zitten, eerst de dikke boomwortel voorbij en dan…. ROETSJ! De hele weg glijd ze alleen naar beneden. Beneden aangekomen draait ze zich om en klimt lachend weer omhoog. De bange bui heeft plaats gemaakt voor de succeservaring. Ik noem haar dapper en een held. Ze straalt meer en meer. “Durf je nu alleen?”Ik moet nog één keer blijven kijken, dus dat doe ik. Ze klimt en klautert, glijd en zand-surft.

“Zal ik een foto maken voor papa en mama?” Lachend zit ze op de top van de heuvel, voor ze glijdt. Ik vraag wat haar naam is. “Vera, mijn naam is Vera”, zegt ze blij en trots.

Stilletjes loop ik weg en laat groep A achter in hun spel. Mijn handen in de zakken, glimlachend als een dwaas.

Deze dag kan niet meer stuk, Vera bedankt.

Body Image Movement

Today I would just like to share something intimate and personal which could (should) hold value for everyone. Please support the Body Image Movement and the Beautiful Body Project by Jade Beall

Dear Taryn Brumfitt,

I gladly support any project that has an aim to improve the body image of women worldwide. As a man I have experienced in different relationships since I was 16 years old and fell in love for the first time that the body image of most women is distorted to say the least. To have a healthy and physical and emotionally healthy intimate relationship between two people, whatever their sexual orientation, the way an individual feels about their own body impacts the relationship.

,maar

vandaag een lifter opgepikt

, maar dat had jij moeten zijn.

 

ze sprak honderuit over wie ze is en wat ze doet

, maar ik wilde het niet horen.

verkeerde stem, verkeerde woorden.

dat had jij moeten zijn.

 

ze wees in de lucht naar een adelaar ofzo

, maar ik wilde het niet zien.

verkeerde handen, verkeerde ringen.

wilde jouw ogen zien turen

zonnebril op je neus

de regenboog delen

gezien in een foss

Mother

here where land meets sky and sea touches earth

there where mountain and forest shake their shoulders free of King Winter’s grasp

this is where I come home to Her

 

here I feel this second heartbeat, beating the Life through my veins

there where gray rock, blue sky, white tip, green grass and brown trunks feed my vision

this is where we reside within Her Womb

here she cradles the new souls of the world to be born

there in the core, the heart of all things

this spiritual plain where Life departs and returns

here she will watch over all that Lives

there she eternally watches over us

this is her purpose, her gift to Life

She

the Mother

Embracing Us

genesis

lang vergeten, diep vanbinnen
schuilt kracht der vernietiging
oude woorden. oude zinnen.

“je voeten van de bank”
krijst ze. fluistert ze.
tranend de trap op gerend

‘s nachts op haar kussen
woorden uit onbegrip en angst
“wil je mij niet meer?”

Time heals nothing

Since the creation of my blog, my motto has been and still is:

“Distance is what gives us perspective, insight and makes us appreciate beauty from afar. This is how I understand people who say that time heals all wounds.”

So of course, when I read the opposite in your words, I just had to respond to that. Not to convince or lecture, no, out of the sincere hope that you might find some sunshine hidden in the rafters.

What caught my attention first is the businesslike comparison by labelling important life experiences as files in an archive. An archive, locked behind door and key, dusty and old information nobody really cares about until a future mistake is discovered. Then all of the sudden people dive into the archives to find places of reference, to better understand the present. According to free will however, one could have given any life experience the attention, devotion and consideration while it was taking place or shortly after it, without ever having the need to lock and hide it inside an archive. I feel and think that perspective and words matter a lot, so the words and images we choose to create our inner world determines the value we give to life, our lives. I love my painful memories just as much as my loving memories, I cradle them equally and try to let them teach me new ways to go forward. Things are what they are, so even when choosing a model like file & archive, why not make the image of letters to yourself. Clothes you like in a closet? Food you like on a large plate, waiting outside in the sun near the pond? Why file & archive?

To keep matters in perspective I do say to myself certain things to be aware of the suffering of others and that the degree of discomfort which I experience stands not in comparison with that of many others. At the same time however I think it is very important to be aware of self, the importance of self. And that even those thoughts to keep perspective should not prevent an individual from taking their own reality, their world, dreams, hopes, emotions and life experience seriously. We are who we are, and our primary responsibility is to our own well-being. Everything we experience in life feels to us just as important as we want to make it, but this principle works both ways. Giving lower value to our own emotions than realistically would be required by the reality we live in means disrespecting our own life experience at that time in life. Finding the balance between how serious an event or experience is and the amount of emotional response required is not an easy task, although very important. It is that balance which frees our minds from doubt and twisted images of self or low self esteem.

I smiled when you describe how old emotions wait inside, hiding for moments of ‘weakness’, so they can rise again and cause discomfort. Does it mean we are weak when we experience discomfort? Are we as people weak when we get hurt, go through periods of strong unwanted and very necessary emotions, because of what we have to deal with? I would say “No”. Not even a firm and loud spoken “No”. Just a soft spoken and well considered ‘no’. To be vulnerable, to show and not hide, to live and not die, to speak and not hold silence, there is strength in all those things. There is no weakness there, only strength. Weakness to me equals not acting, keeping silence out of fear for what needs to be said, denying ourselves, to aim our eyes to the ground while we know we have the right to stand proud for whatever we might be in life. Denying the truth of our existence, this I could call weakness.

I think many of us have all been in this place in your mind you write about. The physical response to emotion rising, deep from the core, is something I personally recognize. In my experience it is the physical response of emotional chaos. It happens when we do not control our emotions and thoughts but when we let them control us. This is not weakness, unfortunately it is in my opinion mainly a result of our social construct about how we deal with life. I hope you can find some comfort in the knowing that you can decide to be in control, everyone can decide this and gain this control through practice. Every person can learn to deal with everything that lingers in their emotional memory, to say what needs to be said and to treat themselves with the dignity they deserve.

There is a deep power in tears, keep them flowing, feed them, drink water. Never fear your tears, because when the sad, angry, hateful, spiteful and indifferent tears have all been cried, then there will be a place where tears can flow because of joy, beauty and love.

Time is an abstract construct to tell us nothing. The importance of time is not what has happened or what could have happened. There is only here and now and the question what you will do with the time that has been given to you. What will you do?

Joanna J - Giving you my words

Like a lost file in an archive, your most painful memories rest somewhere nearly untraceable in your head for months or even years,  without having any effect on you. Although they are always there;  somehow they cannot touch or reach you. Hovering around invisibly,  almost as if long forgotten. You are doing beautifully fine, life is good and things are looking up. Besides, compared to what some other people have been through, your story, your problem: it seems unworthy to even mention.

I have never been a self-pity kind of person.

But then again, the time will come when the winds change and the files that appeared to have been forgotten about, run their stories clearer and louder than ever before. When something or someone has hurt you so deeply, there is no such thing as forgetting. There is no healing, not even scars. Forever you will carry it with you, waiting inside for a…

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gedeelde hartslag

langzaam lig ik
te sterven in
het gras

mijn hart slaat
de slagen
weg

aarde en gras
bloesem boom
bladerknop
leven alom

en in mij
rijst de vraag
over hoeveel

hoeveel hartslagen
heb ik nog
op aarde?

en hoeveel
slagen mag ik
delen
met jou?

dwalingen

The Voice in My Head

“In life, finding a voice is speaking and living the truth. Each of you is an original. Each of you has a distinctive voice. When you find it, your story will be told. You will be heard.”

~ John Grisham, Arkansas, The United States  8. februar 1955.

If we discuss the truth of life, I think we can all agree that this is a subjective concept of the truth since it differs from person to person. We all choose our own, individual truth about what we experience in life and – not taking extremes into account – this is neither good or bad. Good and bad are themselves subjective concepts or perspectives of adding value to any experience from our personal perspective. Since we are all originals of ourselves, individual human beings whom are all distinctive in every aspect of who we are, our inner voice which guides us trough life will be our own distinctive version by which we live the truth. Finding that inner voice requires not just the will to find it, it demands great courage, desire, perseverance and power of will to find. And since our personal truth in life evolves as we grow and develop, it might even be that our personal truth prevents us from evolving and growth. I will try to discuss my inner voice and how I found it to discover my individual truth and very much hope everyone will take part in this journey.

About stories, life and the imagination

“Begin at the beginning,” the King said, very gravely, “and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

~ Lewis Carroll, The United Kingdom January 27, 1832. † December 14, 1898

And that is exactly what I will do. In January 2013 I began saving quotes that made their way into my inbox via the Goodreads website. The most unnerving, inspiring, confronting and soul liberating words from many different authors are kept safely in my loyal inbox, confined to their own label. I have decided that the time has come to begin giving life to all the thoughts that stir my conscious and unconscious mind when reading or contemplating them. So without further ado, let’s honor this first citation of sir Lewis Carroll.