Tag Archives: Thursday Door

Two socks door

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It was a no-brainer what today’s door for #ThursdayDoor was going to be. The hospital door! This morning at 9 AM I went in there wearing just one sock and a cast. I came out wearing two socks… which is a spectacular feeling when that has been an impossibility for five months.

I’ll still have to walk on crutches with a special, supportive shoe for four weeks. But I can move my ankle again, I can touch my leg, I can try to move my toes… This seemingly endless period of immobility make me totally grateful for these small but big blessings.

After 5 months of no income I can use help in finding new coaching clients. If you like, you can help my sharing my cast-off celebration sale with people you know. Or buy a coaching voucher as a clutter free, environmentally friendly gift.

Just so you know: The topic can be ANYTHING, not just procrastination. Life, love, lust… Whatever someone would like to change in their life. Whatever they’d like to talk about to a good listener, who knows how to ask deepening questions and help you find your own answers.

For more Thusday Doors, head over to our host Norm.

Mud

There’s mud flowing through my veins, calling me to slow down and visit ancient times, to hunt the riddle that has been in my family for eons, to solve that part of the cosmic puzzle that we unknowingly have always been the keeper of.

But what if my piece doesn’t fit? What if time has changed the edges of the jigsaw beyond recognition? What if I’m carrying a copy and the original has been lost, back in the days? What if everything is ready but I’m not?

What if I’m not up to the task? What if I get lost, or bored – or distracted? What if I freeze? What if I don’t want to? What if the puzzle is not a puzzle after all?

I’ve just inherited mud.

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Todays #ThursdayDoor is dedicated to Manja, because it’s one of the old Ljubljana holiday pictures I promised her to dig up. It’s better when it’s properly scanned, but I had to work with my selfie camera. I think these doors were in the city center, but it’s been a loooooong time ago that I made the picture so I’m not sure.

The poem could be called a prose poem. Except for that those don’t have line breaks. So it’s not.

More doors can be found at the blog of our door keeper, Norm.

Gracias

Support
Carrying me
Gentle and steady
I bow my head
Grateful

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Last week’s #ThursdayDoor was taken from a hotel room in Spain. I also took a picture of these doors, because I wanted to share them with you.

I went to Spain for the second year of my education, even though I have a broken foot and I’ve had hardly any income for months because of it. The work we do there is too good to miss out on.

I think I underestimated how tough it would be, and in a way I’m glad I did. I probably wouldn’t have gone if I’d know I would be crying on day 2, because I was physically unable to go from the hotel restaurant back to the conference room. I was too tired. Too scared of the wet foot path. So I cried, and I asked for help. I wanted to be in the room where we learn, not alone and exhausted in my hotel room.

And help I received. In many different ways. People stayed with me, and helped me get back to the conference room. Someone checked if I’s be able to rent a wheel chair, and then arranged it for me together with another lovely person. The group chipped in to help me finance the wheelchair. I got help getting my food at meal time, taking me and the chair up the (many) stairs in the hotel. I got swirled around and danced with in the bar, patted gently on my cast..

It’s hard to explain what this has meant to me. I normally try to do things on my own, be independent, self-catering to my needs… So this was Different. Very Different. But it made my week. I’ve felt supported, loved, cared for, seen, and a number of synonyms I can’t even come up with. Maybe I can best explain it by what happened afterwards.

Last night I had a nightmare. It was about NOT asking for support, and how everything went wrong because of that. In my dream I felt that I needed support, and also why I didn’t ask for it or accept it. Me old-style… I was so happy when I woke up and

realised it was a nightmare. In reality, all those things didn’t go wrong. And I now know how to ask for support, allow for it, be grateful for it, and even enjoy it sometimes.

Thank you!

Circumlocution

I am
rooted in reality,
but not what I seem

I do
talk about things
but don’t say what I mean

I aim
to explain difficult things
the easy way

I am
evasive
but I’m here to stay

I promised Manja to look through my old holiday pictures, because I suspected I photographed some doors when I was in Ljubljana somewhere in the nineties. I had to take a picture of the picture with my selfie camera, because the other camera on my phone is broken.

If you want a better quality picture where you can zoom in and admire the sculptures, I recommend this page. Wikipedia will tell you more about the building and its doors, and the history that goes with them.

If you want to see doors from all over the world, check out #ThursdayDoors and Norms page, who invites us weekly to share the beauty and joy of doors.

This is my 31st poem for #OctPoWriMo. I’m off prompt today and the poem is not linked to the doors, but never mind, I’ve made it to the end! Even with the hassle of my broken foot, and the strugge to finance my education this year (GoFundMe still available!).

Thanks http://www.octpowrimo.com/ for providing a month of inspiring prompts, and for all the participants who’ve contributed by writing and reading. I normally disappear at the end of a poetry writing month, to recover. This time I hope to keep up with ThursdayDoors, and to not disappear off WordPress completely 🙂

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Portal

There’s so much to think about
a gazillion thoughts
parallel universes
missed opportunities
dangers to control

Compared to those
there’s not much
to feel about – only the moment

Maybe

I’ll start

trusting that

a little

more

I photographed this door during a PSEN workshop in Amsterdam, at the end of May this year. I hadn’t posted for #ThursdayDoor in a while I believe, but I knew I wanted to take this door home for later use. If you can, zoom in and study the sculpting above the doors. It’s an absolute pleasure to look at.

At octpowrimo.com the prompt for today is breathe. This poem was written after a PSEN day. We do a lot of breathing there, to support the deep work we do. The workshop in Amsterdam was called Transgenerational Haunting
How Unresolved Ancestral Trauma Can Be Recognized, Understood & Healed. It’s been held in Zagreb since, and will be held in Hamburg, Paris and again Amsterdam. It was so rich in experience and learning that I’d visit all of them if I could.

As it it, I’m struggling to find the money for my second year of the full training program. A friend made me a GoFundMe page, so people can support me to get there. I love her for it, but there’s one thing I’d love even more: to make that money by coaching people. Because I love coaching – and I’m good at it 🙂 Please send me a message if you’re interested – we can come up with a Pay What You Can Afford construction if you need that to make it work.

Minted

I thank #ThursdayDoors and #OctPoWriMo for an important insight I had today. Explanation first, poem next, doors at the end of the post.

This morning I was wondering if I still have doors left on my camera to use for Thursday Doors, since I’m don’t go out much with my broken foot. I live close by a former mint, which has fabulous doors. I remembered I’ve photographed them, but not shared them yet.

My next question was how to use the mint for a poem for October Poetry Writing Month. It made me think of money, because that’s what a mint does: it creates money. Did I want to write a poem about money perhaps? For me money has always meant freedom. I started working when I was 15, and the money was mine to keep, my parents didn’t need it for their household. I didn’t spend it, it saved it because I loved idea of possibilities. With money, you can do things and go places. So those first hundreds of guilders ended up being used for my first holiday abroad without my parents, interrailing through Europe with my boyfriend after I finished high school. It was a great experience, and I think about it regularly and fondly.

Fast forward to me being self-employed, as a coach. I get paid by organisations, and I get paid by individuals. I always struggle with my fee when it comes to people who pay for my services out of their own pocket. I’d secretly feel guilty for receiving their money. I always felt as if their spending money on me, made other things impossible for them. Which made me rather crap at marketing, since it felt like a mental form of robbery.

This morning I understood:
For me: money = freedom
If someone pays me → I take some of their freedom

fallacy alert!

I realised coaching is actually something that increases freedom for people. In the coaching space, people figure out thinks like:
– who they want to be
– who they don’t want to be anymore
– where they want to go
– where they don’t want to go to no more
– which patterns are holding them back
– how they can create change
– how to accept themselves more
– etc.

So even if I’d want to keep believing that idea of money = freedom, they would pay with a form of freedom, to gain a different freedom.

This last sentence might make sense to no one but me, but for me, it made a lot of sense 🙂

I’ll end this line of thoughts with the poem I promised.

Minted

Money equals freedom
If mints can turn
paper into wealth
I can mint freedom
Money is just means to an end

 

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