time

The sound of restless waiting

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Waiting

Feeling restless

Feeling ready and not at the same time. Thousand ways to find release, but only one you want. An addicted brain, longing for the impossible. Because the possible is too easy, you don’t have to work hard for it.

I keep working. And working. Doing everything I love and seeing everyone I want. Still this restlessness. Will it be there all the time? Is it a friend that never leaves me?

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The sound of these years across my face

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lifesTime, such a strange thing. Some find clocks calming. They continue with their neverending ticking. Never stopping for anything. Reliable, stable. Some find them alarming. “No! I have so little left!”. The ticking is not calming, but terrifying, as all you should have done races by. You see the should have done`s on your mental canvas.

When we realize how much we still want to do, and how little time there is left, people react in different ways. Some even deny the truth of it, or start to seek a cure that MIGHT just work if they have a death sentence over their heads. Sometimes this even works, for the lucky ones, but what certainly works for everyone, is getting out there and DOING what you want. It`s making a plan, if that is necessary, and then following it, in manageable steps. How far you want to go has no limits, but what one should do to get there, must be allowed to take time.

Dreams do not harm, as it is a myth that we feel worse if our dreams don`t come true. Quite the contrary, studies show that we regret more the things we didn`t do, and if we do wrongs, we can at least try to fix it some way. If not, it`s certainly possible to change directions.

The fascinating thing, is that our mind decides all of this. We might get pushed and pulled by something around us, but our minds have the real power.

A mental image or memory  can be as strong, if not stronger, than any actual event.

I will follow mine, no matter how much time I have left.

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More:

Choose to live

How Spending Money Affects Happiness 

Davich: Use regret as personal motivator – Post-Tribune

DPchallenge: Memoir madness

 

The sound of clocks ticking

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Time

Luxury wrapped in nothingness. I can use my new piano app, I can sit down and write on these white pages, and I can drink tea and eat whenever I want. The clock is in the background, where it reminds me of an important life lesson; That every minute is mine to use however I want.

Sometimes I think and plan, sometimes I just DO things. I write emails, listen to music, read books and go for a walk. Memories pop up as I`m reminded of similar moments to those lived and read about, and I try to imprint it all to my new memory. I like to know that my brain is occupied with learning and writing its own stories. That the knitting inside of me follows the patterns of my surroundings. When I learnt my first knitting technique yesterday, my neurons adapted so my fingers could pull and twist the thread in the right direction. When my fingers glide over the piano tiles on the screen, my neurons learn and applaud my fingers on. It`s so much to be happy about, and I am.

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Studying ourselves

I appreciate the time I have so much, and it scares me that one day, it will all end. It will be dark. No more learning, no more memories and no more looking back. When the inner impatience awakens, I still remind myself that no matter how many years, minutes and seconds I have left, I still must do one thing at once. Sure, I can move back and worth between different activities, but I must stay in the moment while I do it. When I sing, I enjoy every tone, and when I write, I love the feeling of my fingers gliding over the keyboard. No one can take any of this from me. It`s mine, and I can keep it as long as my neurons want.

This summer I will have the chance to scan my brain in a machine. I`ve always wanted that, since I find it exciting to «see» the mystery that is me, on a page in front of me. I also like the idea that is more and more tangible today: To record my dreams and thoughts. They have already done this in Japan, and if they`d ask, I would say yes immediately. But I also read an interesting article in a magazine, that focused on how looking into ourselves, can become too much. We must be careful when threading the line, to keep away from self-absorption and egotism. Its interesting to know oneself, but I find it really thrilling when I discover the minds and ideas of others. The fascination is in the difference; Especially when I notice how their mindset is qualitatively different from mine. When you get that «pull» from a new, brilliant moment in someone else`s mind, I feel happy. I feel lucky to experienece it, and to understand that I might have been wrong.

 

 

 

The sound of multiples

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20140531-013044-5444914.jpgSometimes I want to so everything at once and my Mac just won’t do it. I’m no Mac expert, but I usually love the products. Right now, I don’t. I wanted to upload some pictures I’ve taken lately, and started the OpenOffice program at the same time. I also hit the ‘pages’ button, but apparently my silver friend is trying to tell me I should take it easy. In moments like these I remember other similiar instances : ‘Slow down, Nina’. It’s like I’m always in a hurry, and I expect everything around me to do the same. I shouldn’t need technology to tell me this isn’t always advisable. I can give people countless examples: I’ve locked my car-key inside the car four times! One time when I did that, my luggage was inside and my plane left in 20 minutes.

I’ve sprinkled my collages with ideas as fresh and confusing as a newborn chicken. I’ve managed to delete long emails that I didn’t take the time to save before it. I’ve tried to slow down, but with slower pace comes slower motivation. It’s like I need the surge of energy to fuel my behavior. When I finally slow down I sit down with books and don’t produce much. I need this, too. But I also need the tempo. I need the eagerness and glee when I do something I’m excited about, and as long as I always take time to plan and contemplate, I’m fine.

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Protected: The sound of shaking

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Time

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On my hands

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Protected: Narrative part 3: The bridge of love

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