Tag Archives: happiness

Otherhood

A few years ago, I considered having a baby on my own, by way of artificial insemination. I had been single for a couple of years, and realized that if I wanted children, I might have to go it alone. I read about it, and thought about it. Pretty soon though, I realized I didn’t want it enough to take that huge, irrevocable step on my own. My only real pro-motherhood reason was that I might one day regret not having children, and then it would be too late.

It’s still not too late, biologically. But I still don’t want it. In fact, this conviction has only grown stronger in me. It’s not that I don’t like children, it’s that I really don’t want to be a mother. I want complete ownership of myself and of my life. I only have this me, this life, and I am not willing to hand over the reins to anyone else. Not again.

Before thirty, life just happened. I just tagged along. Then I woke up and started taking risks, making decisions based on what I wanted. I’ve been single ever since.

Although I long for a man to love and to share my life with, staying single between 30 and 40 might have been my “salvation”. If I had stayed in my earlier relationship, or entered into another one, I would probably have been a mother by now. Just because that’s the way life goes. Instead, I have had the time and space to make myself happy, and figure out what I really want.

It often strikes me how perfectly this otherhood fits me. Some people hate being alone. I love it! Some people coordinate their family lives with the professional efficiency of an office manager. I’m a logistic disaster. Sure, you don’t have to be the perfect “parent type” to be a mother. It’s just that I’d rather be an other.

The color of 2012.

No more drama.

That was my thought when I first laid eyes on my 2012 diary in the store. I had been looking for the right one for a while, and almost missed it, hidden from view on the bottom shelf. The color wasn’t exactly an eye-catcher either. But it was surprisingly right.

If you have followed my stories from the start, you know that I’ve made a habit of choosing a diary of a color that will set the tone for my year to come. Two years ago, I chose red, and embarked on a risky, passionate and exciting journey (read the color of 2010). For 2011, I decided to go with shocking pink. Still hot, bright and daring. But more fun and less masochistic (read the color of 2011). That plan didn’t work out quite the way I wanted.

My “dark passenger” from the past has come back to weigh me down, in spite of it all. Professionally, physically and socially, 2011 has been a successful year. My business has taken off. I have fallen in love with yoga and managed to find a running regime that doesn’t tear a hole in my lung (8 months and counting…knock on wood). I have thoroughly enjoyed new and old friendships. Emotionally, however, it’s been tough. Anxiety attacks are back, and I have found myself, once again, falling into those deep black holes where neither joy nor hope exists. This backlash has to be stopped before it gets worse. I can do it. I will do it.

Which brings me back to that special color. I had been thinking I wanted to stick with pink or go back to red. Mainly for the sake of love, the mystery that still eludes me. So I was surprised, even a bit disappointed, to find myself falling for…well, beige. Or sand, latte, tan; whatever you prefer to call this:

 

 

 

Anyway, this is it. The color of 2012 is beige. A soothing and permissive non-color for my rebellious pink mind and passionate red heart to land on. Beige like the beaches in Kerala where I will be spending the last two weeks of February.

Beige for no more drama.

Mom-ent.

Me: – I’m going to buy a new bed.
Mom: – Oh. Did you wear it out?
Me: – No, I just need a bigger one. Of course, there’s still just me, but I’m thinking I really should have a bigger bed. To give the universe a nudge, you know. Like in that Kevin Costner baseball movie – “build it, and he will come”. But in my case – BUY it, and he will come.
Mom: – …
Me: – Well anyway, it’s simply tragic for a 37-year-old to be sleeping in a twin bed.
Mom: – Yes.
Me: – …
*both burst out laughing*

Goldfish

When your smile leaps out. But no one’s there to catch it. When your hopes are high, then they fall to the ground. When you see someone coming. But you’re left all alone. When you think you know, then realize you don’t.

It’s one moment in time. One of many. So forget, don’t regret. Let your smile leap again.

And again.
And again.
And again.

The color of 2011

I started Flowervalley Stories exactly one year ago. (True, posting has dwindled to a halt lately. But that’s another story.) My first post was about the year to come. About envisioning the character of 2010, through my choice of a new diary.*

You see, I believe we need rituals and symbols. As I once wrote, “I have no god, no religion”, but I have a strong belief in the power of love and the human mind. So I choose and create my own rituals and symbols. And for me, picking out a new diary towards the end of a year is a symbolic act of closure and evaluation, of vision and new beginnings.

Last year’s color was red. “Red for passion, courage, sex and fire. Red for love.” I could have added red for pain. Don’t get me wrong, I have no self-pity. I believe this stage was necessary in order to move forward. To break old, safe habits. To start saying yes. Taking risks. Exposing my true self. Sacrificing some to win more. This new habit of mine has been both painful and rewarding. And I’m ready to move on.

So, yesterday I bought a pink diary. Shocking pink, in the words of the fashion designer Elsa Schiaparelli. I discovered her creative genius and inspiring attitude at the Musée de la mode et du textile in Paris, in 2004. Schiaparelli was a strong woman with a mind of her own. She challenged old aesthetic truths, experimented with fabrics, patterns and shapes, and was at least as much of an artist as a fashion designer.

I challenge the general image of success and happiness. Experiment with myself, both on a professional and on a personal level. In 2010, I quit my job and started my own business in order to start exploring my creative and intellectual needs and potential. I entered into a number of relationships which were all doomed from the very start, in order to acknowledge myself as a sexual being.

And on that note, I even challenge the division between professional and personal. Is it possible to be always professional, always personal? I think so, and I will continue to test that hypothesis next year. Like Schiaparelli, I want both worlds. I want to add value to the business and brands of my customers. But I also want artistic, intellectual and emotional growth for myself and for people around me.

The color of 2011 is shocking pink. Pink for creativity, kindness, curiosity and fearless energy. Pink for love.

*You can read “The color of 2010” here, if you wish.

Do the right thing

”Give him my love! Not my anxious gaze […] Or leave.”

Well, I left. It turned out to be the right thing for me. But what about you? Should you leave, in search of something you cannot put your finger on? Or should you decide to be happy with what you have? A good, loving man. Should you simply give him your love instead of your anxious gaze?

We usually say there is no right answer. But there is. The right answer is deep inside of you. You already know it. Without knowing you know it. Whatever it is, it’ll be the right thing.

About pain

It’s like red next to green. It brings out the pleasure. Makes it pop. A blue sky is never as pretty as seen through a curtain of fading tears. Painfully pretty.