Let's talk about Home

 Home is where the Heart is, that is so true.

And my Heart feels so at home in the tiny Friesian fishing village I live.
A British friend once said: 'You are living the British dream: a cottage near the sea, a dog, wellies, baking your own bread and apple pie'.

I can only agree with her. I live a dream in a place I dearly love.
Close to the magnificent Wadden Sea, endless horizons allowing my thoughts to fly away. The wind whispering raindrops in my ears, the sun colouring my cheeks, the clouds embracing me and the moon sparkling my eyes.
The villagers who are ever so friendly, non judging. Here is where I can be I, nothing more and nothing less.

Yet it is Autumn and my Heart wanders off, following my Scandinavian (and even Viking) roots as well as the little percentage of Celtic.
My Heart flies with my thoughts to the North to walk through the forests, listening to the rustling colouring leaves, the nightfrost, silence, the smell of a welcoming log fire.
Old stories told by generations of ancestors.

A happy still devided Heart. And seeking a balance I sometimes retreat to my mental Isle either in my cosy cottage or walking the wetlands with my dog.

DNA and Genes are often part of my thoughts.
My ancestral DNA test in 2018 was a confirmation of who I am, why I feel so much at home in Scandinavia, the Northern parts of the UK and in Scotland. 
Why Celtic music and the emotional sounds of old Viking songs can bring tear to my eyes, causing a 'hemlängtan' (homesickness) to that other world.


Although I like the Northern Summers with the long days, my Heart craves for Autumn and Winter.
This is where I get my energy from, feeling so very much alive, so happy, so complete.

Yes, I asked myself why these two seasons but I don't know.
Born in Summer I should be a Summer's child but I am not. Every year again I look forward to Autumn with the shorter and colder days.
The dark evenings, the brighter stars during frosty cloudless nights.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema
Fjorden Norway

Candle light, log fires, a book, my favourite magazin, hot chocolate.
My dog and cat cuddled up next to me on the sofa, bird Idun at my feet.
To me this is Heaven, to me this is home, where my Heart is.

So where does my Heart belongs to? First and foremost it belongs to me and I take it with me everywhere I go. 
It sometimes ticks the same rithm as my emotions, my longings. And I follow it, allowing myself to fly.


A few years ago I wrote on my other Blog 'Helen Varras' Story Book', a story called The Sitter, based on a 17th century portrait of a man.
Although the story is pure fiction, my Heart was very much involved. During the writing it lived in this story, that place and that era.

Home is where the Heart is............

Wherever you are, live, travel, your Heart is there too.
Allow yourself to dream in the past. And the future, even when these dreams remain dreams.

Love,

Helen

Let's talk about Nothing

Although quite occupied during this Dutch Intelligent Lock Down in Corona time (we are advised to stay at home instead of ordered), I sometimes have a moment to slow down my brains which, I have to admit, are not always working the same pace as my  muscles. My brains win...

During the past weekend, when the sun was shining bright in a beautiful blue sky and  my village being overrun by people who preferred to sniff the fresh sea air, keeping at last 2 metres social distance, I sat on my little patio surrounded by Pansies in the most beautiful colours.
My feet high up on my rocking couch, cat and book on my lap, a hot chocolate within reach, I decided to do nothing. And not only that, also to think Nothing.

And I mean literally Nothing, with a capital N.

When I tried to stop my brain completely, I discovered there is not something like Nothing when it comes to the brains. At least, my brains. Thinking of Nothing is already something.
So what does Nothing mean? According to the Cambridge Dictionary there are numerous explanations and synonyms but nothing that indicates emptiness. In my context "Easiness and Simplicity" comes closest.

Do we realise how often we use the word Nothing?
   "What are you doing?" Actually....nothing.
Not true. Just sitting is not doing nothing, for example, you have chosen a chair to sit comfortably, telling your muscles to behave comfortably. So you do something.
   "Where are you thinking about?" To be honest, nothing....
Where at the same time you might think 'please stop asking me these questions, I want peace...'
   "Do we have any money left?" No, nothing but there are still some pennies left in your purse.
   "How was your day out? What did you do?" Fine but I did nothing.
In the meantime you drove and walked, ate and drank, looked and listened.
Etcetera, etcetera, you can think of some examples yourself.

Back to the brains. Whilst I was thinking of Nothing, I was actually thinking of numerous things: being happy with my little house and patio, being extremely happy feeling the sun on my face, the wind (although still cold) through my hair, the cat on my lap and the dogs nearby, the sound of the chicken, their free eggs, the smell of the flowers, the sound of the sea....

I forced my brains not to dwell off these Nothing subjects, just to concentrate on now and here, not on tomorrow or next week where Nothing is out of the question.
No, just now, this very moment, only this afternoon.

At the same time a few people entered my brains and I allowed them to do so. Precious people who were welcome to share Nothing with me. I hoped they were at ease as much as I was, whether they were doing Something or Nothing.

In my thoughts I had a conversation with them, offered them my peaceful moment in this strange Corona time where Nothing all of a sudden seems very well possible.....: do I see stripes from the plains in the sky? No, nothing. Do I see or smell pollution? No, nothing.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema Photography

Are cars blocking the roads to find people something to entertain themselves because enjoying ones own home is out of fashion? No, nothing.
Are the beaches chock a block? No, nothing like it.
Are people fighting over shopping carts in overcrowded supermarkets on  Sunday? No, nothing.....

Then I hoped that we are right now learning to find a balance between Nothing and Everything.
A lot less of Everything and a little more than Nothing. The latter because nothing Nothing does not exists. But there are so many positive Nothings. Free of charge Nothings which often turn out to be the very best Nothings ever. The most enjoyable and achieving Nothings. A good synonym for these Nothings could very well be Happiness. Or Contentedness.

This is most likely my shortest Blog Post ever, for the simple reason it is about Nothing.
I leave the realization of Nothing to you and hope it will benefit your spirit.

Lots of love,

Helen XXX

Let's talk about the darker days before Christmas

A village near the sea, grey and rainy days, an old renovated fishing cottage, ancestral furniture, dogs, candles. All topped with a fluffy mist....
This is my well being in the darker days before Christmas.

Of course I love light and sunshine, it makes the world so much brighter and we need it, but these darker days...... Every year again I am looking forward to them. I can't wait to lit my candles. To embrace the soft glowing light creating comfortable shadows and giving a warm glow to my furniture, maintained and loved by many generations before me. To listen to Bach, to read a book. To drink hot chocolate or Winter tea.

No, I do not live with ghosts from the pasts. Maybe it has to do with not always feeling comfortable in this modern world although I benefit from technology and improved health care too!
Often I crave for a more quiet world, less distractions, more simple. With more simple I mean more quiet, alone with your thoughts, less white noise. There is so much noise: traffic, plains, machines, radios.....  Living in a quiet village near the sea, is a blessing.

My former house, a renovated small farmhouse, was far more isolated although situated near a drive trough country road. At the back and the front no neighbours, just country views. I loved the house, it was comfortable and cosy. Still... in my new house I feel even more comfortable. More at home.
Last week I talked to my lovely neighbour about our mutual feelings for this village and the beautiful Wadden Sea. She and her husband moved here 35 years ago, she originates from Germany.
Even now she can get emotional talking about how wonderful it is to live here, which caused me 'wet eyes' when I agreed.

One of my ancestors owned a plot of land in a nearby fishing village. With my huge amount of Scandinavian DNA (the Vikings did not only ravaged the Friesian coast but also 'mingled' with members of the local population) it is not surprising that I feel so rooted here.
The current exhibition 'We Vikings' in the Friesian Musem in Leeuwarden is a 'must see' and on top of my list.

My DNA is used to long dark winters full of fires and stories to pass the time. I can imagine myself listening in front of a fire. My fantasy at work about elves, trolls, giant birds...... I love standing in the middle of nature, inhaling the cold air, watching the many stars we still see here, my feet guided by the night when walking the wet lands.
Genetic memories and reality.

Soon the Christmas tree will be up again. I respect our Dutch Sinterklaas but the very first Saturday after this wonderful festivity for children, the tree goes up. And already I am planning which changes I have to make to my sitting room to give it a prominent place. It will stay there for at least 4 weeks, spreading it's soft light. Adding to my home feeling.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema

I am also looking forward to the Christmas illumination of the village. There are so many old and beautiful cottages here. Often built close to the next one to shelter each other for the fierce cold wind from sea.
To hear the church bells in the 800 year old tower, wishing it could speak. Wishing it tells stories about all those Christmases it witnessed. In mostly hard times where people struggled to survive, but also happy times of new marriages, new born children.

The darker days before Christmas: simplicity and soft glows.....

Love,

Helen