Friday, February 20, 2009


There is a time for everything.
My physiotherapist yesterday set my feet free.
You shall go and stay how you like.
There is no RIGHT way of using your feet.
Just be aware of how you are using them, and how you feel while doing so. Avoid what's making you hurt or tense.
For almost 60 years I have been told that I go, stay and move wrong.
I've tried to adjust in every possible way, only ending up tying my muscles in always harder and more painful knots.
In the blink of an eye my therapist broke the spell.
I'm now looking forwards to also enjoy my freedom elsewhere. Doing what I believe in,
paying close attention to how my deeds make me feel.Then adjust my behavior according to that.

So wonderful to be a work under construction!
Busy being born.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009


Being young is such a painful, vulnerable stage in life.
It was to all of us, I reckon.

This poem of William Butler Yeats has been "mine" since I discovered it at the age of nineteen.

When You Are Old and Grey

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.


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Tuesday, February 17, 2009


Dutch Valentine stamps.
A Monastery brother painted this icon of St. James. Be doers of the word, not only listeners" is written on his parchment roll.
A heap of nice icon cards.
Letters from brother Ole. throughout the years it's become a trunk full.
The nice drawing of two apples and the cards.

Valentine is long gone. At least 3 days gone. The stores have sales on heart, cards and special chocolate & flowers.
I first thought I might be too late writing about Valentine post festum.
Then it struck me that if love - all kinds of love- shall be limited to a one day season, we are in deep trouble.
Paul spoke about love like no one before or after him..
The Greatest Gift
1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. 2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.

I have only one brother in the flesh. I certainly love him.
I also have a brother Ole, a Benedictine monk. Living in a monastery in the Netherlands. He is also dear to me. I have known him for 40 years, followed his ups and downs and seen him finding his place in God's garden. He's given up all his worldly goods, even his family farm, to become a Benedictine brother. Yet he loves his books and works as a librarian and a gardener in the Monastery. Lately he's also taken up icon painting. These days they are having a major indoor remodeling of the buildings. Lots of things has to be thrown away. Brother Ole know about my interests too, so he's saving cards, old calendars, an icon, a drawing to be sent to me. "I know you are a collector," he writes. I find his consideration a nice gesture. He makes me feel seen and remembered.
I'd rather have these gifts from his heart than things that anyone can buy.
Only the stamps have to be returned to brother Frans. He's also a collector.