Yes You Can

Start here

Who is the conductor?

Who is the conductor?
The timelord, God, the Cosmos or none?
Who creates the instants
That separates life from death, joy from sadness?

Aristoteles said that God is the first toucher of everything
Spinoza said that everything is determined,
With no mercy for the free will
Through mans own conduct

Hobbes said that man has the liberty to do if he will
But not free to will or to choose his will
Meanwhile the wise men are thinking
Time and lifes moves on

Life changes in seconds
For never to be the same
When causality, coincidence and faith changes places
In struggle to keep the spirit of meaning alive

It’s a dangerous and scary journey
With no garanties during the way
One more step and it will be to late
Or that one more step will save your life

Enjoy fully when life is good
When pain strucks
Hold your loved ones tight and tell them
That everything will be alright

fbe4e4b7a0bd6f7734594bd4f6508350

 

 

Such a lovely moon, isn’t it?

Here I am
Alone
Still not
Aren’t we all?

It’s chilly outside
Ice on the ground
Lights from the stars
And a beautiful moon

Here I am
Grateful for still
Standing, still breathing
And that my boys are fine

Such a lovely moon
Isn’t it?
The garage is empty and
The dust on the hood is frozen

It’s a good evening
I’m breathing and
I’m strong again after
The pneumonia

Well, I do think the years
Passes by in a hurry
But on the other hand
What a gift to still be around

17-best-quotes-little-prince-on-pinterest-mantra-citations-de-318819

 

Satori and my gutfeeling

How much time
Do I have left?
Sometimes I wake up
in the middle of the night
Scared to die too soon

I’m scared not knowing when it’s my time
I’m scared not knowing if I will have
Have time to do everything I want to do
So I tell my boys I love them
So often I can

I try to balance
My fear of dying with doing things
That is right and that resonates
With me and my values
I do fail in some parts

I’m alone in the house
No, not really, our lizzard is home too
The washingmachine is running
The boys are not at home this afternoon
I’m forced to meet myself again

To make the encounter more easy
I study philosophy, I clean
I try to tell myself, that the urge to cry
Is a human thing,
Not a bad thing

I feel old and an ancient guilt
Runs in my veins
From whom?
I turn around, but there is nobody here
But me

I will take a walk to the laundry
Have another cup of tea
And pray, without any religious direction
That the day will pass by
Useful and decent

And no, I haven’t forgotten you
Just because I don’t write about you
You’re still with me
It’s just that I used so many words
Without any success

Satori
Gutfeeling
My heart is beating hard
Knowing what matters and what don’t
Trying desperately to get there in time

IMG_5631

 

Is it a freedom or a duty to make a choice?

“Freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you” (Jean Paul Sartre).

Is it in the freedom to make a choice of how to act upon and how to interpret what’s been done to you, that you find the core of your utter self?
A self with an origin in stardust from the universe in which mankind once was born. Isn’t that powerful? Isn’t that scary?

   It’s like when you stand on the ground and look at the moon and you think that space is so big, so wide and without limits. And sometimes you get that feeling when you look inside yourself too. What’s in there? How far can I go? Are there any limits?
That’s why it’s so scary and difficult to make choices. It’s scary to leave the planet and travel in space, to explore and to look for life.

   What happens if I get lost and run out of oxygen? And what happens if I find life, are they hostile? There is a lot at stake when you travel in space. And it’s a lot at stake when you make a choice. You can make a choice with an unwanted outcome, and then it’s your fault the results turned out bad. And this leads us to another feeling, besides fear, that we humans try to avoid, and that is shame. Shame of not being good enough to be loved and wanted. So we choose not to choose.

   But what are the consequences of choosing not to make a choice or decision? As we all know, that is a choice too. What is it that we avoid by doing so? Do we avoid our own responsibility or are we avoiding judgement by others and the shame that follows if the masses think that we made the wrong choice? And why do we feel shame when we’re outside the group? Shouldn’t we feel pride instead? Pride for being brave enough to make the choice to go out on the journey to find ourselves.

   Maybe our freedom to choose how to act on what’s been done to us, is not a freedom. Maybe it’s our duty. A duty to maintain and cultivate the standards and the dignity with which you are born. It’s a difficult task and you might be scared of making the wrong choice or the wrong decision. And you might wonder if you can you stand yourself if you make the wrong decision. Can you forgive yourself if you make the wrong decision?

While we are figuring out if we dare to choose or not choose, life is going on with or without us. And maybe if we start to make those decisions we want to make, tell our truth and say those words we want to say, maybe then and only then we find life and freedom in our own space.

sunrise-1756274_1920

 

 

Fear

I’m scared
Again
I’m dreaming nightmares
Again

I saw you
Turning you head away
I saw myself in the dirt
Afraid of dying

I’m afraid of
Not finding a job
Not being good enough
Not being loved

I’m afraid of
Being laughed at
Growing old
Getting my neumonia back

I’m afraid and scared
I have to start walking
I have to make it through
I have to gather courage

And why did you
Leave me?
Without caring
About my fear

The echo of my voice
Is hollow
Is anybody
Out there?

If you jump, I jump

You’re watching me
In detail you see
My aging face
My rolling hands
My worry

You makes your jokes
Takes another cigarette
And ask me whats up
It’s a despair lingering
Between the two of us

I won’t change my point
Nor my wish to hear
The truth
And you won’t reveal
Anything outside your shell

How long are we going to wait
On this shore
Before one of us jump
Two feets apart
Even the ocean is crying

If it’s not you

I see you
But who do I see
If it’s not you?

Who lives in that image
I created of you
And in me?

If it’s not you
If it never was you
Who was it then?

Who kept me company
Who listened and spoke to me
If it wasn’t you?

And who am I?
If it wasn’t me
That you saw

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 378 other followers