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 'We'

 'We' is such a tiny word but with a much larger implication.

To create a 'we' one needs at least two people. 
You can not be a 'we' on your own unless you have a multiple personality disorder so called DID
But let us not go there.

'We' can cause a feeling of solidarity, togetherness. 'We went out for dinner'.
'We are invited to a reception'. 'We went on holiday, just the two of us.'
But 'we' can also involve millions of people: in Holland we live with 18.000.000 neighbours...
Sounds quite claustrophobic, doesn’t it.

Or ‘we’, your co-villagers, will look after your animals when you are in hospital’.
Which they did full hearted, bless them.

'We' can be used in general, to specify a certain amount of people, to express your positive feelings but also to express bad feelings.
'We don't get along at all. We always differ in opinions. It would be best if we don't meet again.'
In this case ‘we’ can be quite suffocating and it can be a huge relief if 'we' becomes 'me, he or she'.

So, 'we' always involves at least one other person and yourself in a conversation that involves most likely the same action of both. Or a request for the same action, agreements of ideas etc.
But not always....

A few weeks ago I was in an Academic Hospital for a hip revision, in the safe hands of an excellent team. And it was a very successful revision.
As all the Dutch know, nowadays you don't stay a minute longer in hospital than necessary. You are send home as soon as possible. Given you are not ill, no fever and sort of mobile.
'My' Team in Groningen is wonderful. So many people involved in the pre- and after operation care: 'Are there people at home to help when you need it? Do you need external help from specialists like physiotherapist? We want to be sure you have a comfortable rehabilitation at home.'

Only a few hours after the operation a female physiotherapist showed up at my bed side.
She was kind, helpful, knowledgeable and very serious about her job. But she made one mistake.........: 'we'!!

'Do we think we can stand next to our bed?'
I replied that I didn't know if she wanted to get out of her bed but I would give it a try to get out of my bed.
She looked at me, a bit puzzled, but missed the point.

'Fine' she said. 'Let us try to get out of bed. And let us be careful please!'
'Yes, I (with 'I' loud and clear) will be careful.'
But still she did not get it because after dizzy me standing next to my bed carefully walking a few steps, she explained to me 'what we could and should not do to guarantee a proper rehabilitation and healing'.

She returned the next day shortly before I went home again and was so pleased with the progress 'we made and that 'we' were ready to go home. She also mentioned she could see 'that we knew how to use the crutches'.

Needless to say that she did not go home with me. My temporary half 'we' stayed in hospital to help other people.
A most valued very dear friend collected just me and not her and drove 'us' (yes, he lives in my village too) home.

Do not get me wrong, I really liked the physiotherapist but oh how I disliked her 'we'.
Maybe (and only maybe), one uses the 'we' for a group of toddlers. To give them a feeling of togetherness, to comfort them. But I am not a toddler. Nor do I suffer from mental problems not knowing who or where I am. Nor do I have DID.

I am still wondering if I should have told her not the use 'we' in the way she did. I know she means well but please please, I am an adult!
Or maybe I am just a bit sensitive being someone who tries to work things out on her own, only asking for help if I realize I most certainly an without doubt, can not do something myself or on my own.

So, to anyone who reads this and using the 'we' , please realize that your well-meant way of talking can cause some disturbance with your public.
Never use the 'we' for grown ups, not even (or particularly not) when they suffer from dementia.
We are 'I's' and 'Me's' :-) Or when you talk to us, 'You's' 

Hugs from me!

Helen

Let's talk about 'Wadden Tears'

 Yes, they do exist, Wadden Tears.

Are they different from other tears? Not in substance; they are wet, fill ones eyes, roll down ones cheeks and taste salt when they reach the corners of ones mouth.
Though the emotions behind tears differ. They can be caused by loss and this on it's own is divided in many sub emotions: missing a loved one, home sickness, income....
Tears caused by physical pain. Falling from your bike, down the stairs, head ache, an operation...
Or caused by incapacity, frustration, anger. And of course, last but not least, by happiness!

Tears have a purpose. They give air to emotions, relief you from pressure.
Sometimes one cries without wanting it. And not everybody cries easily, like myself. I simply can not cry unless my heart aches tremendously but even then I can not cry when someone else is around.
The kind words: "Please cry, it helps." do not land in my system. Too many genes from my father's side. My grandmother went through many losses but was not known to cry. Friesian stubbornness?

Some people cry to manipulate; to put pressure on a wish of which they know can not or will not be granted. Or seeking compassion to feed their ego.To reach a selfish goal, to impress or to weaken the other person.
True sorrow reaches my heart but manipulating tears freeze me and I shut myself off for the manipulator.

But there are times that my eyes are filled with tears but I do not call it crying.
Since my move to this lovely fishing village near the Wadden Sea, I walked many many miles, regardless the weather. Those who know me, know I love the rain and mist and prefer cold(er) temperatures. Therefore you find me often outdoors, inhaling the fresh air, the smell of the magnificent and ever changing Wadden. Listening to the waves and the birds or just silence during low tide. The wind through my hair and the rain on my face,
Admiring the stunning clouds drifting by, wishing them to lift me up, to take me with them. To embrace me.

I am almost always on my own with my dogs, no other people around which causes a change in dimensions: I feel tiny and humble. A little figure in an immense world with it's own seasons.
Being there I can not change the tides, the weather, the moon or sun. Nor the directions the birds fly, nor birth or death of the animals that live in and around the sea.
The only thing I can and will do, is being there and undergo the beauty I am surrounded with.
And it is not until I taste salt that I know tears found their way to the corners of my smiling mouth, my heart overflowing with thankfulness.

There is something about the Wadden that brings forgotten emotions to the surface.
And it happens to other people as well.
Tot the man who lost his wife to Cancer, a few years ago. He stood there, tears dripping at the collar of his coat. But with a smile. He told me his story and said: "I often come here to be healed. The Wadden is a healing place, so full of compassion".

Or the lady dressed in thick winter clothes, almost invisible under a fluffy hat, who looked for items - preferable bones - she could use to underline her speeches. She was a 'mourn lady', a woman who talked on funerals, asked by the family of the diseased. 
But all of a sudden she bursted into tears, explaining she could not cope with the Corona restrictions anymore, not knowing where the world was heading to. 
When she finally calmed down, she said: "You know, that is another reason why I walk here. The Wadden opens up feelings I am not always aware of. It allows me to cry, it never judges".

Photo: Ike Roelfsema

The lady at the bench, her left arm folded over the back, her right hand resting in her lap holding the lease of her dog. We talked and talked. Then tears in her eyes and she swallowed bravely: "I come here often, Helen. To be away from daily life. As I just told you, at home we have a lot on our plate. But I have not told you my husband is diagnosed with quick deteriorating Parkinson. Walking near the Wadden Sea is comforting me. I feel loved and hugged. The Wadden give. Not just love but also energy to cope for the time until I return here again". We hugged.

The girl who sat on an elevation in the landscape. With a straight back, her hands folded in her lap.
She did not notice me, her eyes were fixed at the seascape in front of her.
She cried in silence. Her tears carried all her sorrows to the sea where they mingled with the waves until they were invisible. Then she smiled and walked away.

The restless man with the low self esteem who often sat near the sea or walked through the salt marshes because The Wadden accepted him the way he was; no judgment, no high expectations.
And he inhaled the love nature gave him. The wind dried his tears.

People, stories, all different, all their own emotions but all turning to the Wadden for the same reason: unconditional love without questioning.

This is true fortune my lovely readers and worth a few thankful tears.


Lots of love,

Helen, xxx

Let's talk about Toothpaste

 Maybe not a subject that springs to mind pondering about life but...

Being a woman I always squeeze my toothpaste down the tube from top to bottom. It is a man's 'privilege' to squeeze in the middle, isn't it.
And I keep squeezing until the last little bit, I am thrifty. I prefer to have at least one tube in stock but sometimes forget to buy it. So, what happens next is that the amount of paste comes to a point of which I think I am going to run out of it. And I do not live close to a shop.

But here is the amazing thing that when I think I am going to be short of paste, the tube seems to be endless and I always survive until the my next shopping weekend. Not that I count on this every time though. I like to be prepared, I prefer a fresh breath.

Prepared.... I learned throughout my life that being prepared for tomorrow, next week, next month is impossible. Today can be totally different from yesterday or tomorrow. Living life by the day is much more my way (with my little home as my resting point). A 'skill' taught by my parents who regularly moved house because my father found an other job when the current one bored him, he needed challenges.
His career ended at the age of 43 when he got ill but in a way surviving was also a challenge to him.
My mother, a woman with a heart big enough for everyone who needed her unconditional love, managed to create a warm and welcoming home in every house we lived in. One of her favourite quotes was: 'Remember you always take yourself with you. If you can create a cosy home in one house, you can also create it in another house'. And she was so right.

Taking yourself with you everywhere you go needs stability in a sense of being comfortable with yourself by knowing you are the base of your life. Your base needs to be solid, you need to be able to trust yourself and move on from there. Take your base to where ever you go.
Of course life is throwing good and bad at you, I simply do not believe there are people who sail through life without high waters, storms or a good thunder now and then.
Just happiness does not exist. And in my humble opinion... how do you recognize simple happiness if you don't know grief? How do you appreciate a beautiful valley if you don't know the hills?
Or a smooth sea without the high waves?

To be honest, a predictable life would bore me to death. When I look back I can not remember one boring day in my life. Lazy days, yes. But even then I adored this laziness. Absorbed it, drank it in, squeezed every lazy minute out of it. And I still do, I still squeeze every little bit out of my lazy days.

Sometimes my head is full, my brains overloaded. Not just a matter of age, I have had this all my life. When this happens I know it is time to switch off, to withdraw to my little Mental Isle.

Because I work from home, my isle is only available in the weekends but if it is there, I make the most of it by switching off my phone and the internet.
My Mental Isles are a mix of doing completely nothing and enjoying the stillness, or walking the dogs, or reading, photography, watching a film.... just being me. Please do not say I am selfish which I am not. No, in this way I maintain my base. Each base needs maintenance to bear the structure. My structure is always in good use, busy at times. And because life is not predictable, the base needs to be ready for tomorrow.

Would I be an easy person to live with? Probably not, I need my freedom.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema

I am not a moody person, nor angry. Often called 'down to earth but with a good sense of humour' is more who I am. When things go wrong in life, I adapt to the challenge to use the changes to find other paths to my future. These paths always have side paths and sometimes you have to walk and walk to find new destinations but they are there! Never give up!

Be like a toothpaste tube. When you face the moment of running out, keep squeezing, you will be surprised how much there is still left. In the meantime 'buy' a new tube, buy a different taste. Be ready for a fresh breath tomorrow, next week, next month. Life is still full of surprises.

My 'tube' is running out for 2020 and I am looking forward to my holiday in my own home. Squeezing the last bits, buying a new taste for 2021. I am ready for new challenges.

Wishing you all a comfortable Christmas, squeeze the COVID restrictions, don't leave left overs in your old tube. I am looking forward to see you next year.

Lots of love,

Helen XXX

Let's talk about Intimacy

'Intimacy, a situation in which you have a sexual relationship with someone' (Cambridge dictionary)
But it may also be a non-sexual relationship involving family, friends, or acquaintances (Wikipedia)
Still, the latter was not the meaning of a recent conversation which triggered me to write this post.

In September 2017 I wrote about 'Men and My Checklist (post with a wink)'  based on the well meant advise from people to look for a new relationship,
By now the majority of people accepted that I prefer to live on my own but a very few still think that my life would be so much better if I had a partner again, someone to share my life with, to cuddle up with on the sofa or in bed.
To go out with, to talk to, to kiss and hug and all other things that come with intimacy in a relationship / marriage.
The big question of these kind and gentle hearted souls is: "Don't you miss intimacy?" Meaning a sexual relationship.

Do I need to think long and deep before I answer? No! Because, what is intimacy to me? How do I feel, experience and treat it?
Intimacy to me is that deep borderless connection I have with the one I love and trust. And for him (I am an incurable heterosexual) this will feel the same. That special level of interacting, translated in a touch, kiss, smile, laugh, tear, making love (with or without exciting sex) or even an argument to keep things lively.
And what is the meaning of a long term sexual relationship without this intimacy? For me any form of a sexual relationship needs some intimacy. I am not the 'one night stand with a stranger' woman, I need more, a 'foreplay' of getting to know someone. His character, smell, likes and dislikes. And a wicked sense of humour. And let's not forget his build: tall, broad shoulders.... (see my wish list ;-))

Seriously, I might be very old fashioned or to some even boring but I still have my taste and values.
So, do I miss intimacy..... no. For the very simple reason that there isn't someone I love like I described before. No one to share this intimacy with. In my opinion I will only miss it when it is connected to the person I love to be intimate with and that person is simply not there. At least, I don't know him.

Freedom is not only living in a free country. Freedom is the precious condition of being who you are. Not pretending, just the basic you who creates from this base a free happy life. Free in your head and heart. If you live this life with the one you love so deeply, this is the most wonderful thing there is for you. Though for me and for many others, freedom also means living on your own, no strings.
Like someone once mentioned "Yes, I am a free spirit. Maybe too free but I want to be able to change".
I say: "Yes, I am a free spirit. Maybe too free but I do not want to change again".

Dear readers, my life changed too often. I am now at a point in life and at a place in this world that I feel free and happy. I do not want to change again. I want to stay put with myself.
Am I an egocentric person to say I do not want to share anymore?

Photo: Ike Roelfsema Photography

I like to believe I am not. And my close friends know I am not; intimacy as in friendship is important to me, it is rare and valuable. As it will be to many of you.



To those lovely people who still can't believe I am happy on my own, living  a fulfilling life, enjoying living with my animals in my little cottage so close to the beautiful sea, making long walks with my camera, absorbing solitude and nature, listening to the wind, tasting the rain, feeling the sun, spending time with dear friends, enjoying a good meal in the local Pub (the 'single' list is endless...): please accept this is my free will. I know you only wish me well and your intentions come straight from you heart but stop trying convincing me....  After all my credo is 'Fortis et Liber' (Free ánd Strong).

Change of subject....... ;-)

Lots of love,

Helen xx