The meaning of being alive, is simply to be alive despite doing! Yet the action of letting go, fully, seems to be the most difficult thing of all.

One wave of experience...

A lump in my belly.

What is this life about?
Am I in a middle age crisis, from what?
I´ve explored and experienced – not wasting.
Yet it feels like I have been waisting.

Where am I heading?

I think, feel, observe, contemplate.

I look around.


Traffic jams.

Rush hour.

How did I end up here?
Is the longing really for the so called “normal” a structure, a form?

This seems more insane than thought.

Forms within forms.
Does and dont´s.


Don´t walk here,
Don´t walk there,
Stay away.

Rules and regulations.

For good manners, I get it.


What is this thing called life?

What is important?

I ask my heart, my soul.


To what
To who?


what for and how?

Be close..
To those who matters for real.

My nephews,
My god I love them.
Little playful boys that coms running and in full trust throw themselves around my neck, shouting:
Aunt Sanna!!

Oh, little sweet boys.
My heart melts.
It aches of love.

The others side of the coin.

Is the cruelty of life.
It flushes through my body.
They will grow up, attend school and probably some mean kid will bully one ore maybe the two?

My heart aches.
Now its a different ache.
I want to protect.

I want to protect innocence from life itself.


Life, which is both a beauty and a beast.

Whats the point?

Again, the lump in the throat is present, also in the belly.

It is fear.
Fear of waisting time.
Fear of waisting time on the “wrong” people, the wrong environments.

And sadness.
Sadness from, in the name of awakening/growing/spirituality/love & appreciation, putting myself in shitty situations.

The fear, of not having a partner, to dwell in alon-li-ness for a decade or two more.
Fear of having a family, daily duties takes over from life and appreciation itself.
Fear of child birth.
Fear of commitment.
Fear of becoming old and have waisted youth and that beauty to does who do not deserve.
Fear of dropping all current commitments and jump into the unknown.

Fuck, the lump in my throat grows bigger.

What is holding me back?
What would “perfection” look like?

It boils down to joy, happiness.
Am not in single thought around that, am sure.

And it must be the journey that matters, not the destination.
So how can I be joyful in every step towards ... the destination that I don´t even know.

Goal, do I have to have a goal?

Whispers says: you´ll never find it outside Sanna, you are forgetting. You are even forgetting the fear of forgetting.

Truth seems.
That Truth ( yes with capital T ) seems to be nothing but a vague memory by now. I am so scared of being lost, am so scared .... for what? This is the fear I been avoiding for years. The fear of dying to who I am. Not as “ spiritual death” not as “realizing reality for what it is death” I´ve experienced that partly, I believe.

Faced it as direct experiences
Faced it as seeing through the illusion
Faced it through at times living it for an hour sometimes for a day.
Faced it through contemplating reality.

Its all been experiences.


This is another death.

Or is it an awakening?

What I do know, right now...


that a change has to happen and it is happening.
that am allowing death to eat me slowly.
that my health matters the most.
that I know this is a temporary, yet a repeating thought-feeling.
that I know everything is possible and I can reach the stars if I desire soo.

Yet, what matters, for real?

What I do NOT know right now,

Is what really matters.

Yet this message keeps repeting inside

To stop the meaningless pointless doing for simplicity of simply being alive seems to be the most difficult thing to be.

The fear of stopping,
Of acknowledging such fact, seems to equal death for my being.

Another repeating message is, if you can´t do it with joy you better not do it.

If not with Joy, whats the point?