If there are no limits, where do you start?

Have you guys seen the movie ‘Limitless’? Trailer below.

The movie is about a struggling writer, barely able to complete a sentence, let alone a manuscript. He’s depressed. He’s just been dumped by his girlfriend of several years. He’s a low as he’d ever been.
Then these pills come along.

He takes one and suddenly sees the world in a whole different way.

It’s like he has superpowers, but all that these pills do, is enable him to use the full capacity of his brain, to remember everything he’s ever read/seen/heard, and to simply connect the dots.

They allow him to see the bigger picture and how to get to where he wants.

One of the first things he does when he gets this ability is clean his apartment.

Isn't that just perfect?

He walks into his apartment and sees it like a stranger would. He evaluates his surroundings, deem that they are insufficient and then immediately starts to improve on them. He doesn’t move on. He doesn’t give up.  He simply starts from where he is, and begins to improve on what is right in front of him.

He could have left the apartment and never look back. He could have shut out the clutter and sit down to write. He could have torched the place. He could have gone anywhere in the world.

But he didn’t.

A man with a four digit IQ, decided that the best thing he could spend his time on, would be to clean his apartment.

Because you have to improve on what's right in front of you, if you want to move forward.

Paranoid Speculations

Do you believe in destiny? That your path is set? That you have a certain purpose in life that has to be fulfilled?

What if someone pushes you of your path? What if they steal your future? Do you believe that could be possible?

You continue living your life, but something feels off. There’s an itch at the back of your mind, telling you that something isn’t right. And then you start to notice that the life you always imagined for yourself is being lived by other people. People you know. People you used to call friends.

One person gets the bookdeal that was meant for you. The other gets the man of your dreams. Yet another one buys the house you always pictured growing old in, and so it goes with every last one of your dreams.

It feels as if the best possible version of your future has been stolen, broken into to pieces and redistributed.

But why? And by whom?

Taxes, taxes, taxes...

I am sitting at my local café feeling like my mind has been turned into stale marshmallow fluff. I spent the whole day figuring out how to file my taxes with the IRS. Reading informational pamphlets. Following instructional manuals. Crunching numbers.

The form I filled out is 2 pages. The instructions to filling out those two pages are 175 pages. The pamphlet containing further information about the form is a staggering 295 pages.

If you need a total of 470 pages to explain the functionality of a form that is two pages long, then you’re doing something wrong.

It’s actually quite funny if you think about it.

Sad, infuriating and stupid. But also definitely funny.

I guess if you can’t beat them, you can always ‘point-laugh’ at them.

Who’s to say what's real?

I had a dream yesterday during a midday nap (why yes, I sleep during the day, for no other reason than I like it and because I can). I don’t usually remember my dreams, which is fine by me. Then I don’t have to spend copious amounts of time analyzing them to death. As it is, I like to sleep. It’s usually an enjoyable experience.

But not this time.

On this afternoon I awoke, terrified. My heart was pounding and I felt as if I was still in the dream. Reality didn’t seem quite real. I stayed in my bed for a few minutes, convincing myself that I was indeed in my own bed. That the dream I’d just had wasn’t real. That is was nothing but a nightmare.

Why do our minds think up these evil, evil dreams? Why is it that the same mind that can think up the most wondrous things, sometimes turns against us?

I was afraid to go to sleep last night. And in hindsight it definitely didn’t help that I’ve just begun reading The Sandman series by Neil Gaiman.

As I lay in my bed and it was time to sleep, I was afraid that the dream might come again. I couldn’t relax. My body was full of fear-based adrenaline.

When we are asleep, we are truly defenseless.

Sleep did eventually come.

Luckily, the dream did not. Or if it did, I don’t remember.

The things we experience and most importantly feel during our dreams, linger on in our minds when we’re awake. It blurs the line between that which we call reality and that which is something else entirely.

“Just because it’s a dream, doesn’t mean it’s not real.” – Lucifer (Supernatural*, season 5 episode 1)

*And because I mentioned Supernatural, here is a picture of my favorite of the show, Jensen Ackles.  Isn't he delicious?

Inspirational advice: Director's cut

I feel like I’m being haunted by good advice. From every corner of the interweb I’ve gotten inspirational speeches thrown at me. Maybe the universe sensed a need in me and then promptly sought to fulfill it. I like that thought. Anything that puts me in the center of the universe is a strangely comforting thought (no, I'm not narcissistic, why’d you say that?)

Looking back, I can see that it started with this post by Kiersten White. It’s very inspirational for all us fantasy-writer. Fantastic artwork as well.

Here’s a limerick about jumping over the deep pit of despair filled with ice-cream (just watch it - you’ll get it)

There’s the full version of Carpe Diem. Maybe I'm ignorant, but I didn't know that 'carpe diem' only were the two first words. The full version (in English) is: “Seize the day, believing as little as possible in the future.” (I feel as if I've just been shown the director's cut of a piece of inspirational advice).

And then there’s this one, a commencement speech by Robert Krulwich to Berkeley Journalism School’s Class of 2011.
It’s long, but it hits a nerve. For me the essence was two simple questions: Why wait? And why assume that someone will take care of you?

Nike’s ‘Just Do It’ tag-line is in my head now. (This, by the way, is a very justifiable use of the word ‘just’)

But seriously. Just do it. Jump across that deep pit of despair filled with ice-cream.

That’s what I intend to do.

We might fall. If I do, you can bet I’ll come running to this blog and whine about it.

But maybe, just maybe we’ll get to fly.

A day in the life of me

6.45. The alarm on my phone rings. I’ve gotten maybe 6 hours sleep at this point. I slam it shut and it goes out. I vaguely register that it is low on power.

7.47. I open my eyes. Shouldn’t the alarmed have sounded again? Shouldn’t I be out and about? I look at my phone. It’s off. And then I remember that it was low on power. I quickly stumble out of bed. First thing I do is plug in my phone. And then I’m a whirlwind of movement as I get myself ready to face the world.

08.09. I leave my apartment. Amazing how quickly I can get myself ready for work right? I can inform you that I did not have time to apply make-up. I did get to brush my teeth, so that’s always something.

08.17. In the train on my way to work and I swear to never drink coffee again. I had two cups during Sunday. The result was I didn’t sleep until way too late. I like to sleep. Preferably 8 hours. Sometimes more. I look out of the window and listen to music. Jason Mraz, Geek in the Pink, among others.

8.41. I arrive at work. The others are still eating breakfast and I join them with my bottle of water. Talk of the weekend ensues. I’m the youngest in the group and still the only one who wasn’t out partying it up. I don’t mind. I like not being hung-over. And I spent my time watching Doctor Who. No party is better than that.

8.57. Sitting in front of my email and work starts. It’s a slow day. But time still passes remarkably quickly.  I teach my replacement lots of new stuff. But don’t really get anything done myself. There were some technical difficulties as well and that also slowed down the day.

12.06 LUNCH! I get out in the cafeteria later than usual. There aren’t any vacant seats with the rest of my department, so I sit down at the table with some IT-guys. And then more stories about the weekend ensue. It really seems as if I were the only one who weren’t intoxicated this past weekend. Yay me?
Anyway, I somehow get the IT-guys to help me with the summer-party I’m throwing at work. Thank God. I was beginning to feel like I was alone with it.

12.43 Lunch is over. It’s weird, but it’s felt like the most productive part of my day so far.

12.48 More work. I honestly can’t remember what I did. A lot of running from one floor to the next and back again. I have a feeling I actually got something done. The technical difficulties were resolved.

14.32 My replacement leaves. I briefly consider doing actual work, but decide against it. She’s supposed to learn all aspects of my job. Can’t very well steal a chance for learning something away from her, can I? So I surf the Internet. Among other things I read this article (you should read it too).

15:15 I begin to think that I’ve now scoured the Internet enough. I open a program on my computer and begin to do my homework (why yes, I do love my job, very much indeed!).  I work full-time but I guess I had too much spare-time, because I started attending a computer programming class. The exam is in 3 weeks. I don’t feel nearly well enough prepared.

15:56 My boss who is sitting opposite of me says that he is done for the day. Asks if I’m ready to go as well. I am. Oh boy I am. But it’s raining outside and I don’t want to get wet. It’s a 15-minute walk from the office to the train-station. I tell him as much and he offers to give me a lift to the station. And as quick as a crack of a whip, we’re out of there.

16.06 I’m in the train headed towards Copenhagen. Work is done for the day. But what do to with the rest of the afternoon and evening?

16.36 I’m in a local shop. It’s having a sale because it’s moving to a different location. I buy some clothes I don’t really need. I need new shoes though. Must really buy new shoes. I also buy the ugliest notebook I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’m going to use it make my daily affirmations. I will probably talk about those another day.

17.06 I’m home. At last. I like my home. I change clothes. I’m off work now. No reason to wear work-clothes any more.

17.08 I do my first ever affirmations. Feel really silly as I do them.

17.25 I’m sitting on my bed trying to decide what to do for the evening. Stay home? Go out? Do homework? Write on my story? To help me make this decision I use Tarot cards.

17.50 I leave for a café near City Hall Plaza in Copenhagen. It’s still raining. I don’t mind. I like rain. I’m now wearing make-up. Not a lot, just enough to make me feel prettier than usual. I like to feel pretty.

18.13 I’m at the café. The barista is singing songs to himself and being really nice. I secretly wish that he would be 5 years older. His nametag says Viktor. I should really use that name in a story. I order a brownie and a single-shot small latte. Yes. That's right, I'm already drinking coffee again. But it's only a single-shot so I firgure it will be alright.

18.25 First I surf. Then I do homework. I actually get a lot done.

19.37 Feeling tired. I guess I should have bought a regular coffee instead of a single-shot latte.

20.02 Ooooh, free coffee samples are being handed out. Yay!

20.43 I decide to write a blogpost. This blogpost.

21.04 First draft of blogpost is done. Now I just got to decide if it is worth publishing.

21.31 Blogpost polished and soon-to-be published.

And now I have to decide what to do next. I'm over-caffeinated (again - damn you free coffee!) so sleep isn't really an option for the next couple of hours. I think I'll go home and write on my WIP. That's always a good way to end a day.

Sadness: It's happy for deep people.*

I haven’t been thinking a lot of happy thoughts lately, and I’ve not felt like sharing the dark things on my mind. Not in greater detail than I already have, anyway. But I had a revelation of sorts today that I would like to share with you.

It came to me from reading this status-update on facebook: “lifestyle changes... mention one thing you would like to change about your way of life?”

It’s a simple enough question but I was actually stumped. I didn’t know what to answer. If I could, what would I like to change about my life?

I didn’t know. And I guess that would be okay, if I were actually happy. But I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy for a while now (not to say that I’m miserable all the time, but I get hit with waves of sadness sometimes, and I don’t think that is the way life is supposed to be).

I didn’t know what I wanted to change about my life. What behavioral pattern I wanted to modify. I just thought that I’d like to be more happy. To feel less sad. But I didn’t want anything to actually change.

"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results" – Albert Einstein.

Yeah. That’s what I’m doing. That’s how I’m living my life. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting that it will one day make me happy.

No wonder I’m going crazy.

But the thing is I actually really like my life. I like myself. I like my apartment. I like my family. I like my friends. I like my job. I like my co-workers. I even like my boss. I really do just like my life and don’t particular want it to change.

But maybe I need it to?

I don’t know.

After thinking about it (because if you haven’t noticed there’s one thing I do extremely well, and that is thinking about stuff until I’ve thought it into bits and pieces), I did have one thing I’d like to change about my way of life: I’d like to exercise more often.

It seems like a small thing to do and nothing that would have a life-altering effect on my general level of happiness. And it feels like such a cliché. How many New Years’ resolutions haven’t consisted of an intention to exercise more? But since it’s the only tangible thing I can think of, that’s what I’m going to do.

Things do need to change. I can’t keep doing the same things over and over again. It won’t make me happy. And going for a run a few times a week probably won’t change my life. But it’s a place to start.

Can you mention one thing you’d like to change about your way of life?


* PS. Extra points if you can tell where this slightly modified quote is from.

It’s just a word, right?

“Oh I’m not a real writer. This is just a little hobby of mine – only something I do for fun.“

Do those words sound like something you’ve heard before?

It’s hard, owning up to the fact that you actually want something. That you have accomplished something and that you’re proud of what you accomplished – especially when it comes to creative writing.

I’ve noticed something about me that I don’t particular like (understatement of the year). Not only do I belittle my own accomplishments, but I also belittle the accomplishments of my friends.

“Oh her? She’s just an office assistant. And him? He only went to school for 2 years.”

I sound like a snob, don’t I? It’s horrible. I hate that I do this.

It’s just words that are coming out of my mouth and I don’t mean any harm when I say them, but I should know better. There’s no such thing as ‘just’ a word.

It’s never ‘just’ words.

By placing that annoying little word in the middle of my sentence I’ve belittled the entire essence of the sentence, and I don’t want to do that anymore.

Words have power.

Small words like 'just' sometimes have more power that we think.

As of today I’m going to limit my use of the words that de-evaluate the essence of what I’m saying. I’m not going to expel these words from my vocabulary completely (nothing good ever comes from being extremist), but from now on I will use them much more carefully.

Some days my heart aches

Not all days. Not even most days.

But there are days when my heart aches.

 I was 22 when my heart got shattered into bits and pieces.

Nothing can prepare you for the pain. To say it hurts would be an understatement.

It feels like your chest is ripped apart, your heart removed, and all that is left is a gaping hole.

You gasp for breath. You try to hold on to everything you can. You scream. You ache. You cry until you fall asleep, exhausted.

You lose 10 pounds, because you’ve lost your appetite. You didn't even notice until your friends and family point it out to you. Who knew heartache could be such an effective diet?

You’re afraid to go to sleep, because you fear those few seconds when you wake up and you’re still somewhere between awake and asleep. You know you'll lose your bearing and forget the cruel reality. You'll think he’s there, lying next to you. You'll roll over to snuggle up against him, like you used to and find his side of the bed empty. The pain hits you all over again. He’s not there. He won’t ever be there again.

You’re as miserable as you’ve ever been.

You decide that anything is better than feeling this way. That it can’t continue. That you can’t go on living like this.
So you bottle up all the hurt and all the misery and put it in the place that used to hold your heart.

As time passes you are able to fool the people around you. “I’m okay,” you say. “It was hard, but my life is better this way.”

You smile trough the pain, because that is what you’re supposed to do.

Some days you are even able to fool yourself into believing that you really are okay.

But when you’re alone with your thoughts, when you lie at night and try to fall asleep, you know that something is off. You try to breathe slowly, to calm yourself. But each breath you take makes it obvious that something is truly and utterly wrong. Something in your chest is heavy. The weight turns even the simple task of breathing into an excruciatingly painful ordeal. It feels like your heart has been replaced by icy cold stone, laced with barbwire.

You’ve effectively turned your heart into stone by bottling up all the pain. But what choice did you have? If you hadn’t done it, you wouldn’t have survived.

You do the only logical thing you can, and continue to ignore your pain. You shift around and try to find a comfortable position for your heart. You breathe lightly. You avoid thoughts and feeling that trigger the hurt. You ignore the elephant in the room.

But the elephant can’t be ignored forever. She will come crashing into your thoughts and feeling with her nauseatingly big trunk. Each time you sit and cry and cradle your head in your hands. You wonder why you haven’t gotten better yet.

Why isn’t this over? Haven’t you suffered enough?

No one has the answer.

You content yourself to focus on your breathing. One breath at a time.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathing is just a rhythm.

Inhale. Exhale.

Some days my heart aches. Those days get fewer and farther between. It helps to write about it.

One day I suppose the elephant will have turned into a puppy-sized elephant, with the evolutionary advantage of being adorable. Instead of making me sad, she will curl up beside me and snuggle up against me. I'll scratch her between her ears, name her Nora and marvel at how cute she is.

This idea makes me smile.