IF Opinion

IF Opinion, originally uploaded by radiant woman.

We all carry opinions and ahum (me too), we sometimes overdo it. Sharing an opinion on something can easily be seen as a big mouth saying bla bla bla.

When I think about it a little longer I reconsider the stating of an opinion. The person who hears what we say interprets the message and can make it into bla bla or as something lovely. Or something horrid, something regular, something abnormal whatever.

I would love it if I can listen to others and hear what they say as a contribution. However hard that might be for me. If people state an opinion could it be that they are concerned or passionate about something? That they are touched by it and want to say something about it? Even so called negative opinions can they come from the heart? It all depends how we interpret an opinion. What do you think?

What Is The Nothing?

At the counter to pay for my groceries a girl behind me was talking to a friend.
She had done a search on Google on the philosophical question: What is the nothing?
After an afternoon of looking at the internet websites that Google gave her she was still not able to answer the question. Bystanders commented and these were the answers that were given:
– the nothing does not exist, everything is something.
– the nothing? Why would you be interested in nothing?
– the nothing is where the something can begin.

Nice, what is your take on the nothing?

IF: repair

broken heart, originally uploaded by radiant woman.

This weeks theme for IF is repair.

During the last months I found being alive a painful experience. I kept telling myself that it will get better over time.

Now when I think about repair and what it means to me I notice how good I have been lately. That I have left behind the pain of a relationship that ended.

I am a bit proud to say: My heart is back into old mode, with a nice scar that will heal over time.

Glad to be back on IF, it has been some months!

Two little stories about my walk to Santiago de Compostela are already hidden on the blog. What happened on the first day and how I met my first pilgrim.

I found myself outside of the old village of Le Puy en Velay. The walk into town is steep up hill and much to my surprise there was a renaissance festival going on. People in nice clothing of that time and the old village divided into sections according to the groups of craftsmen. There was music performed in the street, troubadours and also two women that pretended to be beggars. They did a superb job on it and people were quite upset at times with their act.

Due to this festival the local places to sleep all had a little notice on the door informing me that they were either closed or fully booked. This was totally unexpected and for the first day, my creativity was at an all time low.

I was hungry, in urgent need of an espresso and time to think of a solution. Then a fully dressed renaissance man did not look where he was walking and nearly kicked me over. He apologized and invited me over to his quarter of the city, next to the entrance of the cathedral. Of course he knew I was a pilgrim, carrying a backpack and a walking stick does the trick. His name was Jacques. Of course it was. I was on the road to Santiago to travel to the tomb of St Jacques in Santiago. Of course I meet a Jaques in Le Puy en Velay.

He offered some bread and a glass of herbal brew. Very alcoholic and after one glass on en empty stomach I was definitely influenced. Which did not help to find a bed of course. I walked away still with backpack and all and began looking at the shells next to doors. Maybe some of these shells would lead towards beds, as in a bed for me.

I did, however, have to walk another 2 hours. All I could think of was look at the shells, knock on doors and ask for a bed. Being influenced by the herbal boost I got more and more happy and was not upset any more. You see, with the folklore in town that day, all the tourists and many many places full for the night, it was superficial. Then suddenly I saw a sign of the friends of St Jaques (Les Amies de St Jaques de Velay). Two German girls were standing next to the door. The door would open in another hour of so. Only 3 people for 28 beds. I could sit down and relax.</blockquote.

September 4 th of 2007: I found a cross on the street.

September 14th I began walking to the border of France. How was I to know that I would continue walking all the way to Santiago in 10 weeks?

During the trip I posted little. Next to nothing, really.
Some lines about suffering from a tendon ligament on my left foot just after leaving Cahors. Then I got curious about men and feet care, how well did my fellow pilgrims treat their feet? How inspirational¬† to see them pamper their feet…

A couple more posts about how liberated I felt, how I began feeling rather than talking, and started listening. So under ten posts, that was all. Due to the enormous lack of time and computers on the way of course. If I dig a little deeper in retrospect I know that that was not the main reason. I felt vulnerable and overwhelmed during the walk. Too much going on to make sense of it.

I am home for 10 months now and slowly the stories on the camino come back to me. I lost my journal. The last day it disappeared, evaporated. Never seen of heard of it again.

Now it starts to come back to me, the stories form in my head and I want to write it all down. To share the journey, the walk and the people that I met. I will not write fast, just when I feel like it. One piece after the other to cover the road. Step by step.

So bear with me, for a while, to bring my memories to the front and write them down. For me. And remember that I did not walk the camino, the camino walked me. No idea who said that, it does not matter.

I moved into my own apartment last weekend. Strange environment, new noises, another bed, the sun waking me up in the morning and I try to enjoy being in my own place and spending time with myself. It is not a comfortable job after 13 years spending every day with some one else. I feel vulnerable, anxious and sounds make me react straight away. Baby steps, keep breathing, this will pass. I remind myself often to look for what I can do to move into another future.

Suresh of meditation photography made a remark today on the road that is less traveled and that it has made all the difference [quote by Robert Frost]. It feels good to rephrase my road as the road that makes all the difference. Even when I do not see it yet.

P.s. Just noticed another draft from the month of May dangling in cyber space. Waiting to be posted. Title: Is there one road to travel? Sure, I have been thinking about this for a long time now.

This is post 200. In 1 year and 8 months. Not bad.

What kind of blog this is, I do no longer wonder. I just write or I don’t. Ups and downs happened as is usual in life in general. I am glad that I began this blog as a way to express myself.

Next three weeks I am on holiday, so no posting.

After that I will move house, I signed papers today. If the bank is approving everything I am going to be a busy lady in August. Painting, buying stuff and finally moving at the end of August.

In the mean time:


give out love when you feel it inside of you

be brave

and embrace your life as it presents itself.

So will I. Until later