Honesty and color

At the moment, my blog is like Frankfurt airport. Closed because of snow, with planes (I imagine) circling overhead.

 

Like those imaginary planes I am also circling without coming in to land. It is unfamiliar terrain down there.

Changing the blog url is a fresh new start, and I do not know how to jump in.  

But this Saturday morning it is quiet. Eva is at an Indian Holi festival organized by some classmates, and I finally 
have time to write down some thoughts.

After the festival

I do know what I want for the blog. 

I want it honest, I want it raw, I want it beautiful, not because it is aesthetically pleasing, but because it is true. 

Resonating. Touching, with the realization that some truths are the same for all of us, no matter what we look like on the outside. We all have to deal with life being unpredictable, being brutal, being tough. With making mistakes, with having regrets, with coming short of our own expectations.

With hurting others, deliberately or through being blind and unaware.

And still we have to go on, every day. And still there is so much beauty, so much grace, such goodness.

We are all in this together.

So the idea is that whatever I experience will be of value to you if I am uncompromisingly honest about it. 
Because such honesty always touches that part in us that knows. 

Knows we are ultimately the same. 

We all want to find our own truth, live out our own uniqueness. Contribute ourselves.

In my work as a healing facilitator, I love my clients so much when they start to open up. Even if they have done things 
that are not nice at all. If it is truthful, it is beautiful, and I can understand. Being that honest, opening yourself up with 
such vulnerability has to touch. I can’t help but love this incredibly courageous soul.

And maybe this is why I want to do be so honest myself. 

Because I want to be loved.  For the real me. For the person full of flaws, full of shortcomings, short of money. For the impatient, angry, snappy bitch I sometimes am. For being insecure. For hiding. Behind books, behind smiles, behind 
being nice. 

And because coming out of hiding is an act of self-love, of acceptance. And hopefully of inspiration. 

We all struggle, let’s do it together! Becoming gentler and more real in the process.

A wonderful weekend dear friends!

Lots of love,

Ps: After a swim, a shower and a bath, my child is still colorful. So is her bedding, her t-shirt and the wall....

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