Inspirationshiverish?

How many times can someone or something be inspiring until you reach "inspirational overkill"?

The last couple of years, I'm inspired by lots of things.

Song lyrics.



Movies.



Books.

http://www.nicholassparks.com/LearnMore.asp?BookID=1


People around you who say things that make you think or dig deeper.
A friend of mine gave me this one:
"Live the life you love, love the life you live."

Truth be told, I love to get inspired. I'm open for inspiration. Every time of every new day.

Still, when I feel lectured, or when people go on-and-on about a certain subject with the main goal to "convert" you, I have the tendency to back away. Not that I don't respect or value their opinions or believes. No - there's this pressure that comes with it that suffocates me. It feels like I get deprived of my own choices. And the only thing that happens is I get annoyed, angry even. And I don't like that state.

When I look at the core of my existence, you could say I'm an explorer. An explorer of this magical state we call life. I love the mystical ways of the universe. That we don't know everything. That we don't have to know everything. To create a beautiful and fulfilling life for ourselves.

Still - there's so much to explore. To find. To make you wonder.

I believe in spirituality. But I don't believe in the rules and restrictions of religion. You have to do this, and leave that. I don't feel I have to be in awe for this figure, this creator of life. To live life according to a Book.
Which contradicts with what happens when I'm truly inspired by another human being. I get hooked in a certain way, and read as much as I can about this person, or listen to things that he/she says. I breathe him or her, because I'm in awe of their way of thinking, their way of writing, their wisdom. Still, I do not accept everything they say as "truth". I pick at their brains, but still use mine.
I feel that's why I'm not into religion as a whole. I need to have my freedom to use my own brain. To search and find. To breathe my own "truth".

This doesn't make life easier. No. Sometimes I wonder whether "believing completely" would create more space for myself. I constantly have questions, constantly am open to new information, more sources of wisdom. Constantly aware of the world and it's resources. The world is this open market, and everywhere you turn you find new stalls that invite you to try this new product. And I do. Every time. And love it. So, would I want it any other way?

I need to be inspired, to search for my own truths while listening to others to feel alive. To be alive. I need new angles, new ways of life, new mysteries - find the nectar to fill my beehive.
My beehive is my home of truths. Beehive = believe.

So, "inspirational overkill" isn't in the cards for me. I will always be inspired, even when I don't agree with everything I see and get inspirationshiverish. I gather knowledge, I gather love - this is is my word. This is my religion.

I'm rambling. I know.
Ramble on.

Love,
San

Embracing the possibility

There I was, meditating, surrounded by candles. In my own world. Searching for inspiration for my next blog. Frustrated, because I knew the subject of this blog the day before, but didn't write it down. I made a mental note: you have to write this stuff down! You may think you have the power to control your inner thoughts, to shape your brain to be your assistant, but this was your brain's way of saying: here's the proof, you're not the master, I am!

I began to think about the subject again - desperately looking for inspiration. But then realized: I am sitting here in my own spiritual space to meditate, to keep still. To focus on my breathing. To be in the moment. So I made a conscious choice to set my mind aside for at least 15 minutes, to be able to free my soul. To meditate in the rhythm of my inner being.
And there it happened - while I was just breathing, embracing the quiet, my inner self responded: "language".

So language it is. Something we humans use to connect with other beings. Something we thrive in. We can shout, whisper, sing, talk, interrupt. We can be smart. Be boring. Be dumb. Be loving. Or extremely hurtful.
So language is a tool in many forms. Do we choose the form, or does it choose us?

Language in itself is just a combination of words. When you want it to be. The word "language" is just a word, just like "love" is. Love. A word, four letters, but it's the feeling, the experience (or lack of experience) of that love that makes the word so special.

A song someone wrote. A love story in movies.



You can imagine what it feels like, because you live or have lived the love.

A couple in the train sitting hand in hand. A heart in the sand, or carved in a tree.
It reminds you that you once did the same. Or are still doing it.
Christmasses you share with your (extended) family.
Christmas - maybe not always a joy, but certainly the promise of joy and being close to your loved ones.
Phone calls with friends.
We know this! Exchanging our experiences, or even the lack of experience. An invisible link between you and them.
Excellerating sex when you least expect it.
Another chapter completely. But you don't know what it feels like, until you've lived it. Without boundaries. Completely entwined with another person.
Missing your loved ones because they live far away. An unexpected text message or email. A sweet postcard.
The feeling is there, because the feeling is acknowledged. You crave for the connection, in any way it comes.
The awe at a concert, or the fascination for a good book. Following this artist you know. Because he or she knows exactly what you're going through ánd writes about it. The voice is the heart.



Connection not only comes through the art of speaking. No. In my experience you connect with people through thoughts, dreams, touch, feelings.
That´s why we write, sing and paint about it. Connection is magical.
The way you tilt your head, the way your eyes focus - it can give away what you´re feeling. So, what if connection is more than getting in touch with people: a universal vibe? Energy flowing through outer space?

Do you ever pick up what the other one is thinking?
Do you ever start singing the same song at the same time?
Do you ever experience stuff you can't explain?
I do.
Magical...

So, yeah - language is a tool. And we use this tool to say "hey, look, it's me, I need to share". Whether language is choosen, or the language has choosen us, I try to use it carefully. Cause we can easily hurt each other, be angry, sad, frustrated. Maybe we can even go so far and say that we deserve to have that particular emotion -we can't always be happy and cheery. But don't we have a choice? We can let it fester and eat us away. Or... We can break away and say: "hey, I want to be love(d)."

What happens to the words once we've shared them? Are they absorbed by the universe, or are they only absorbed by the listener before it dessolves? You tell me.
Here's Jason Mraz again. He sings about this in his song "Did you get my message":
Do you ever wonder what happens to the words that we send
Do they bend, do they break from the flight that they take
And come back together again
With a whole new meaning (...)

What happens to the words, nobody knows. But I´m embracing the possibility that it flows around in the milky way. On its way to God knows where.

Love, San

A life of gratitude is a life of awe

Today is Sinterklaas, a Dutch holiday. You can compare it with Santa Claus.
The old man brings children small (or lately, not so small) gifts.
The tale is as follows:
Around the 16th of November Sinterklaas arrives in Holland on his ship, all the way from Spain. He is then welcomed by thousands of little children and their parents, grandparents, and whomever wants to join. The man is accompanied by Pieten - his helpers - and his horse.
Really, a horse? Yeah - really.
He then stays here until the 5th of December, in which time the little kids can leave their shoe by the chimney (or the heater) with a little something for Sint's horse before going to bed, where Sint en zijn Pieten will then find it and replace the horse's treet with a small gift.
The kids find their gift the next morning, and sing a Sinterklaas song as a "thank you".
On the 5th of December is Sint's birthday, and on this day he visits all the children one more time at their homes, before he heads back to Spain.

When kids grow older they eventually grow out of believing that Sinterklaas exists. As did I, a long time ago.
Still, I love this holiday.
Why?
Because the kid inside me still longs for the awe, the magic, the mystery surrounding Sinterklaas en zijn Pieten.
And there I was, three nights ago. "Sinterklaas" surprised me by leaving me a small (big!!) gift. It was this beautiful watch. And I was literally crying.
Why?
Because the watch isn't just a watch. It's the love that comes with it that counts.
I was in awe, touched. And now, each time I look at it, I don't see a watch. Oh no - I see the growing love that "Sinterklaas" and I multiply. With every passing second.
And I know that the kid I was a long time ago is the same kid that exists in me today. Still in awe. Still surprised by the beauty of the world. Thrilled by the beautiful souls in my life.

I am grateful for you, so this is my thanks to you. I don't have a song to go with it, though. So I borrowed one from Jason Mraz:
It's love a love a love - It's what I got to give you now-
It's love a love a love - All I want to share with you, it's all I know, it's all I really care to do Anything you want can be yours at anytime
All I want to share with you is all my love, its all I really care to do
Anything you want can be yours at anytime
Anything you want can be yours at anytime

Love to all of you, San