Bien -sûr qu'il fait beau !!

Il a fait beau toute la journée
Et ceux qui disent le contraire avaient les yeux fermés
D'accord, quelques nuages se sont invités
Mais ils ne faisaient que dire bonjour en passant

Il a fait beau la plus grande partie de la journée
Voyez, je rectifie pour ne pas vous contrarier
D'accord, certains étaient noir de jaie
Et ils prenaient tout leur temps

Il y a eu un peu de beau temps dans la journée
Une vraie journée de printemps et ses giboulées
D'accord les nuages ont ont commencé à se bagarrer
Tellement fort que s'en était inquiétant

Mais moi je m'en fichais parce que en vrai
Le soleil, c'était dans mon coeur qu'il était venu se réfugier

a few more steps on the spiral of life?

I really SHOULD go to bed and catch up on as much sleep as I can but I'm far too excited for that...

I am in awe at the world... really!
The way things happen or don't, turn out to be or don't... I had called my blog the witch and the princess because they're opposites and "because life's made of oposites, etc..." Well I experienced that again this weekend.

In opposition to all the excitment of my night at that Brazilian club I had to queue for an hour and a quarter before I could get in.
On Sunday was the London Marathon, ran by more than 36,000 people and they come at the back of my place so I could hear the cheers and jeers given by numerous supporters along the road. As I was leaving to go and vote for the French presidential elections, I gave up and went back home to avoid the queue to get on the tube - never seen such queue before ever at that place... 200m maybe? When I left home again an hour later, it was better and got on the tube as usual and it worked well. But as I arrived at the French lycee, I had to queue for another hour and a quarter to vote. Not joking!!! Long gone the sweet memory of coming, voting, going, all within 10 minutes!

With all the excitment and emotions of all sorts running high within myself, I believe these times queuing happened to make sure I would keep my feet on the ground. Awesome, no?

Then tonight I went to my weekly 5 Rhythms dance class and coming with no surprise was a chaotic chaos... I become possessed, loose control and I usually collapse after a while, sometimes weeping for minutes that seem to never come to an end... But somehow tonight in my chaos I felt extremely angry, I felt an enormous rage. It wasn't coming from my head nor my throat, it was erupting directly from my stomach, my liver, making my upper body shake - guts, lungs, spine, shoulders... nothing escaped. I'm sure my jailor, the one who kept me from expressing anger for all this years and to whom I was obedient, my jailor felt the prison shake tonight. A real earthquake, at least 9 points on Richter scale!! When the tears started to come up I suddenly saw how much they were my obedience, me indulging to fear and sadness of not allowing myself to express my anger and feeling sorry for myself - the eruption of rage came straight back! I AM ALLOWED TO BE ANGRY AND EXPRESS ANGER. YEEEEEEESSSS!

I believe that not only it won't kill me but it'll do me good. Am I at last living my teenage years of rebellion, tries and misses, mistakes, stupidity, discoveries of all sorts??? Maybe then I'll start finding out who I am really behind the obedient girl's mask, what I want and what is my purpose.

I'm telling you, these are really exciting times!

A Brazilian night to remember

My friend had planned to go to a Brazilian nightclub last night and my first thought when I got her email was, "I don't fancy that". But later in the week I fought my tendency to being too serious, thoughtful, "adult"... and I had to kick my arse a few times to decide to go, regardelss of whether I wanted to or not. I really needed to have fun and force myself if needed be.

Then came yesterday morning and I woke up with a bad headache for no particular reason. But I was rather skeptical because it kept coming and going. I would forget about it and then, wondered where it's gone, and vlam!!! it was back as strong as ever... I went for a nap in the afternoon and slept for more than two hours. My head was still sore but it started wearing off after a while. I thought I would take a paracetamol then meet up with my friend. Off I went, quite late, and realised on the tube I'd forgotten to take the tablet! It made me smile and thought that headache was nothing to worry about, except maybe a physical sign of my seriousness...

I had a great time, the music was good, there was a bit of space to dance - which is quite unusual in a london nightclub - and most important of all, I met this guy... great smile, fun, attractive and he made the move. We exchanged numbers, he said he'd call me today and I believe he will. He waited with me for my bus while he had to back in the opposite direction. We planned to go to the cinema sometime this week. My heart pumps hard when I think of him. I am both excited and terrified at the prospect of starting a new relationship after so long.
Watch this space!! :))

Painful separation

These last few days I could see people beyond their appearances. I could see beyong what my eyes tell me. I could see their loving hearts with my heart and my heart was big enough to love every single one of them in return, regardless of shape, age, colour or gender. It was awesome. At last I could see others. Of course I had always know intellectually that a person in front of me is a separate person having their own story and history, issues and beliefs. Yet I sometimes could not accept it and as a dear friend told me recently, "it sometimes seems that for you, people are either with you or against you".... he was so right! It was such an eye-opener! My explanation would be that people were with me as long as they fitted the image of myself I'd projected onto them. They would turn to be "against" me as soon as they would be themselves, therefore not mirroring me any longer...

Interestingly I haven't seen my boss and colleagues or my analyst with my heart yet. I'm so used to see them with the eyes it might take time even to think about changing the habit, and remembering there are men and women in their own right, with their own personal stories...

"One cannot relate to something one hasn't separated from".

Today I just knew that I haven't separated from my analyst. Not that we have a relationship other than an analyst/client relationship but all I see in him is what I project onto him. It is as if he were not a man in his own right, as if he didn't have a life outside the two hours a week that we meet in his office. He's always available by email or phone, very gentle, patient, compassionate, competent... and oh yes I forgot, attractive, too.

Of course my intellect tells me he is his own individual, separate from myself, but the revelation that I could not see him beyond the visible was painful. I saw how I hand him my power as soon as I enter his office door. I saw how much I "like" playing the game I have played all my life: being the nice and to be rescued daddy's daughter, not quite good enough, not quite working properly, in a word addicted to perfection. I saw how I lock myself away high in Rapunzel's tower letting life pass by. "All" I need is to hold onto my power, my sense of self-worth and self-confidence. Then I believe I will see the man sitting opposite me in his armchair, I will hear him mention exemples from his life without feeling my heart sink, I will accept that he's got a life outside these two hours a week we meet in his office. And I will be genuinely happy to come and meet a man I trust and who can help me.

I guess that's what's called transference. I always knew the word and its meaning intellectually. This week though I believe it reached my heart and I feel its meaning emotionally. The separation might be painful but is necessary and I feel ready for it. I had wanted to "leave my father's house" by sheer will. I believe now it might start to happen.

Les-Bi-Gay 5 Rhythms class

It will have taken me about a year to finally walk in the room. I was both fascinated and terrified at the idea of dancing with people having different sexual orientation. I guess mostly terrified seen how long that took me... Yet I know gay people in my family, I have close lesbien friends and that has never been a problem to me. I guess it was the mixing of the dance with the sexal orientation that scared me most. Because personal spaces can sometimes be blurred on the dance floor and because I wasn't too sure where my own sexuality lies?
And so I went tonight and I had a very good time, from self-conscious to being possessed into chaos the way I have been in the last few weeks. And being Friday most of us ended up going for coffee/peppermint tea and muffins across the road. No better way of finishing the working week, really...

L'attente

Pas de nouvelles
Faut-il dire "bonne nouvelle"?
Pas de réponses
Viendra-t-il sans qu'il s'annonce?

Depuis le temps que j'attends
Je m'impatiente je me ments
Depuis le temps que je rêve
Rien ne va plus j'en crève

Encore 8 jours
Depuis combien le compte à rebours?
Encore une vie
Dois-je me dire que tout est fini?

Depuis le temps que j'espère
Tout va mal de travers
Depuis le temps que j'y pense
Tout me rappelle son absence

Encore combien d'années
Me faudra-t-il l'aimer?
Encore combien de sourires
Pour cesser de souffrir?

Depuis le temps que je crois
Qu'il me remarquera moi
Depuis le temps que je me persuade
Il est temps de partir en ruades

Je ne souhaite qu'une chose
Ne laissez pas la porte close
Je veux la place au dialogue
Et surtout pas de psychologue

clairem --- Nov 1989

Being alive again

"I am not special"
"I am unique but not special"
"I don't own the truth. My truth, maybe, but not the truth"
"I don't know best"
"I am not perfect"

Time to stop taking myself too seriously
Time to let my feeling and belief of self-importance dissolve...
Time to start having fun
Time to be spontaneous
Time to live and look back and stop planning ahead

It's not about giving up
It's about being true to myself

Loneliness

The journey of self-discovery and individuation is a fascinating journey. But sometimes the path is arduous, slippery, curvy, unfriendly... looking back over the last few days/weeks that's how it has felt to me. I had been walking the alley-way, trekking the path, climbing the rocks with my head down looking at my feet and hadn't noticed how much I was relying on sheer will to overcome the increasing difficulty to go on. Yet each step required much effort and energy and I grew tired and restless as I kept my head down and refused to see the hard work I needed to put in to keep going.

And when in the analytical process my analyst found the right words to make me open my eyes, I awoke to a nightmare. I've had worst ones before but this one is rather dark, trust me... Yet that's why I pay him, isn't it? To keep me grounded when I fly high and lift me up when I sink too deep. Learning to be buoyant is such a difficult process!

As I awoke I found myself face to face with a monster the sort of which I can't describe. Anyone who read Carlos Castaneda's A separate reality may see what I mean. My monster is shapeless, rather dark, fluid and airy at the same time. It is cold and filling the every pore of my skin, shortening her breath and calling for retreat from the world. Without even being aware of its presence it'd engulfed me, abducted me into its own world and made me play along its own rules. Have you ever played backgammon in different part of the world, or even in different parts of Turkey? You learn one set of rules in one town and when you move to another town the rules are different and the only way to play with new people is to accept to adapt to their rules and usually you're not too good at it. At least to begin with... Still each time you need to adapt, it becomes easier and quicker...

I begin to know my monster's rules by now: it force-feeds me particularly with sweets of all sorts regardless of me being hungry or not and pushes me to be active and do things. Above all it is extremely good at erasing from my mind all meaningful words related to emotions or feelings and at blowing off the physiological, electrical and chemical mechanisms that connect my mind to my body. So much so that she (my body) becomes only an annoyance and a heavy burden, "that" thing that I am ashamed of and wished I could shape the way I want (or should I say, that society wants?) Going deeper into the darkness of my monster's world, I grow empty, impatient, angry, sad and I end up slashing the very meaningful relationships that exist in my life because it convinces me they're no good to me, that I have outgrown them, that I'm worth so much more... My monster takes me to deep loneliness so that it is "the one and only" I can rely on to survive.

I awoke to my analyst's words the other day "does it feel acceptable to be lonely?" It is such a painful feeling, yet it is my only way out. By accepting my feeling of loneliness my monster will have no more grip on me. By accepting my feeling of loneliness I will not depend on it for survival. By accepting my feeling of loneliness I do not need to fight harder, to walk faster, to fly higher, to be more witty or quicker in thinking, to get my answers right, to be dutiful in order to get some rewards...

Allowing my feeling of loneliness is simply to let it exist and the prospect terrifies me: I might actually start relating to people in a way that is meaningful to me and not to them!!! It will take the time it needs but I am growing really tired at putting a foot in front of the other endlessly for someone else. I want to sit down and comtemplate this loneliness and emptiness and worthlessness I hold inside. They do not belong to me. They took shelter long ago and are waiting for me to acknowledge them and give them a voice. That would be the best gift to them and to me, setting them free.

Bavure

Une année déjà est passée
Et beaucoup ont oublié
La fin de cet étudiant
Qui n'avait que 20 ans

Qui a commis cette grave erreur?
Pourquoi en faire un grand malheur?
Il avait été attaqué
Est-ce le seul qui soit ainsi tombé?

Tous ceux qu'on préfère ignorer
Tous ceux qui sont délaissés
Tous ceux qui sont nés un peu "vert"
Tous ceux qu'on regarde de travers

Seulement pour Malik Oussekine
Il y a plus moyen de le cacher
Il n'est pas mort d'une overdose de morphine
Mais à cause de la "police montée"

Suffira -t-il de supplier pour s'arrêter là?

clairem--- Dec 1987

Hymne aux polonais

C'est beau la liberté
Mais il faut la mériter
Et après plus de 45 ans
Je vous espère gagnants.

Vous avez pliés
Mais n'êtes pas brisés
C'était une question de survie
Mais vous ne vous êtes pas trahis.


Restez ceux que vous êtes
Au plus profond de vos êtres
Ne devenez pas comme nous
Egoïstes et indifférents à tout.

C'est tellement beau l'amitié
Mais on ne sait plus la manier
Tous et chacun se méfie
Et contribue, seul, à sa survie.

Vous savez vous serrez les coudes
Alors ne vous jetez pas aux yeux la poudre
Ne devenez pas égoïstes
En créant une société capitaliste

Basée sur la concurrence
Elle contribue au pire : l'indifférence
le mensonge et l'individualisme.

Sachez garder vos valeurs, si belles et simplistes!

clairem --- Jan 1990

Transitions

I've moved, at last!

I had "known" since last early November that the time had come. I was shown the opportunity in early February and I made it happen. So here I am, sitting in my new flat and talking about it. Yet the flat is not new to me. I used to live here a few years back. That lasted for a year or so. The flat is my ex-boyfriend's who's gone to Central and South America for 6 months. He jetted off last week.

The situation had become impossible with my old flatmate. Yet some interesting thing had come out of this situation. One of them being that in the last 2 or 3 weeks I'd decided to wake up an hour early to have time for myself in the morning before starting my working day. Not only did I love it - not the waking up bit - and found this very rewarding but it was a time when I knew I would not see my flatmate and somehow the flat was mine... Because of my outer life very busy and late nights I experienced great difficulty to give myself this extra hour in the last 10 days. And so last night, I've been wondering, "did I do that to hide from my flatmate or did I do that for myself?" Hopefully I'll find out in the next few weeks.

Yet this morning I've just given myself 40 minutes - coming to an end now - to write these few words and I'm grateful. I must give myself a chance to be what I want to be and that means let the fear out of the picture. And that means allow myself to live my dreams and take the risk of not reaching them...