Sunday Brunch
When I Skip A Beat (Or Two)...
Sorry not sorry. I had the flue, or at least a really crappy cold. My nose was so runny I was tempted to buy a box of tampons and stuff two up my nose. I haven’t bought tampons, or pads, for 14 years now. I thought that saving on those, had I put the money aside, would have amounted to a small fortune. Dutch estimates are around 1400 EUROS, American numbers show 6000 Dollars. Ehmmm.
The cold, which left me in no fit condition to string words together in any coherent way, was the reason for skipping on the first brunch. The need to calculate menstruation costs as a result of a mini meltdown, was the reason for missing the second. A brain that wonders in that direction has no business writing posts, other than my daily journal (horoscope in Indian Vogue + throw your virtual coins for Iching here. I swear by it as self reflections prompts).
I will make no false promises about future consistency, but I do aim to keep things on track. Those 140+ topics on my Trello board aren’t gonna write themselves (I suspect the elves who hide my socks are illiterate, or lazy, or both…)
WHAT’S NEW: SAFE IT FOR THERAPY 2X
I did write. There are two new posts in Save It For Therapy. This area is new for me, not when it comes to experience or giving it all considerable thought, but in terms of writing about it.
I write candidly about my own life’s experiences when it comes to trauma. I don’t do that in a “woe is me” type of way, even though sometimes when looking at certain events, the magnitude and impact of those, and I do wonder: How on earth am I still alive? But that is exactly the point. I don’t repeat trauma to open up old wounds, relentlessly picking at scabs.
I do it to forge a path to healing, so I can share that with you too. In the past I held onto other people’s stories, about their hurts and how they overcame those. I found solace in knowing I was not the only one going through it. Instead of the isolation, the way pain can pull you into a vacuum, relating to someone else’s story can release you from your bubble, so you can breathe a little easier. Resting assured in the knowledge and comfort, that what you are going through does not make you an abnormality or aberration, it makes you human.
In part, I also do it in the face of shame, guilt, stigma and taboo. We have come a long way in my lifetime. But when I see a fellow writer here questioning (rightly so from my perspective) the way a renowned and respected authority figure in the field of trauma healing like Bessel van der Kolk describes someone who suffered abuse, as the weird or strange girl, we still have ways to go. I will re-read the entire book for context, but seeing the quote pop up, an alarm bell went off.
What also resonates is Eckhart Tolle in New Earth: the ego loves drama. Listening to an old Wayne Dyer audiobook in bed last night, I heard it being touched upon there again too. Before I meander into another hundred different directions for my Trello board, I will leave it at this:
There are no justified resentments
No one is to blame
There are no coincidences
And everything is in perfect order
I live a fulfilled life
With an open mind
Attached to nothing
Connected to everything
It has been my mantra/little prayer since 2011. I still abide by it, even now facing the external circumstances I created and the rogue cells in my body.
Unconditional love, radical acceptance and surrender as the deepest form of belonging are key to inner peace. Scathing over everything else we need to deal with on the way, would be an injustice to the human condition.
(I am working on another SIFT post on the differences between prayer, meditation and self hypnosis).
NEXT STEP: BECOMING A THERAPIST
Next week I am headed to Valthermond. It is a small village up in the North of the Netherlands. It is where my parents lived in 2011, and where I found a brilliant therapist. She guided me through what I imagine was the longest and darkest night of the soul. Now she will guide again, but this time by opening up her archives of learning. I have been longing to become a therapist for the past three years. Ever since my other therapist encouraged me to make more of an effort to share my ideas on life, a seed has been planted. The hospitalisation last October delayed, but did not postpone this.
In September I had reached out to several institutions to seek financial aid to study. My requests were declined everywhere. The only area of psychology that is at the moment financially supported is clinical psychology for the GGZ, the Dutch mental healthcare system.
I want to operate outside of that system. But I did want to get my basic qualification, to meet the requirements of most health insurance companies. Without, they won’t cover the cost of sessions for my future clients. It head me in a headlock until someone called me from the UWV, who handled my request. She could have handled the denial in an email. but when I asked her why she hadn’t she said: “I felt, person to person, that I needed to talk to you. What you have to offer is solid. I would not want you to waste time, because you can’t afford the PSBK course. Start helping those who can afford sessions with you, without insurance coverage. Save up. Then take the course.
So, with gratitude to the generosity of Mirella, Zsolt and the lady from the UWV I am on my way to becoming a therapist. I am slightly giddy with excitement, and can’t wait to explore more, learn, evolve, apply, refine and find my own unique way of offering support! (I rarely use exclamation marks, so pay heed when I do).
The last time I met my former oncologist, Prof Bow, in 2015
WHAT ELSE DID I SCRIBBLE
I wrote a tiny rant on confirmation bias, ego strokes and rampant platitudes. Finally, after a long absence I created a Snippet. I keep saying to myself that I need to post one every other day (the way my favourite columnist Sander Donkers writes a 150 word one for de Volkskrant), but I can’t quite get to it yet.
With my next oncology appointment set for March 11th I still have time to mull things over, but here you can read where I am at now in my uncertain cancer scenario.
I am sharing my 2015 memoir chapter by chapter. Not an easy read. I have decided to shelve the memoir I started writing the day after I left Valea Zalanului. One day I will get to it, but I need to get somewhere else first….
A LETTER FROM THE KING & COURT
I also received two writings these past weeks. The first was a letter from the King of England, to say he was sorry to hear the news of my cancer recurrence. The second was a letter from the court of appeals in Targu Mures. The man who burgled me has been sentenced to seven years in prison. He also has to refund me 13.400 EUROS.
Nothing will come of it. On paper I feel justified, vindicated. I feel a little relieved. But I also immediately said to a friend: “Is it strange that I don’t want him to go to prison?”
He replied: “Maybe you should join a convent.”
Maybe I was being a bit too Saintly about it…
HAPPY B-DAY
One of my favourite friends had her birthday this week, so I got crafty and am making her a pressie. Yeahhhjjjjj. Happy 40th my dear.
FUTURE PLANS
I have started looking ahead. I have dots on the horizon:
A two-week stay at my former death doula’s house where I will plunder her archives and immerse myself into all knowledge necessary to become a therapist.
Finish my first fiction novel, before starting a new chapter in my life.
A road trip back to Transylvania to face all the pain that drove me out last summer. I need to go back to be able to move on.
And yes, I still want a VAN!!!
For the week ahead I will widen my scope, broaden my horizon and step into the world, instead of staring at myself (not literally in the mirror but through all my musings). I only made it to the cinema and the cobblers this week. Watching Nosferatu and having my tatty Bally loafers fixed is not enough.
Love XXL
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