extraordinary

..guts.

I plan to live with extraordinary guts.

But for now, most of this is a mess.
Still.
Old patterns and stuff.
But at the same time I'm trying to be mindful of this mess.
And not think this is the way it's meant to be.
But rather understand that I can change most things, all of us can. (And oh my, I didn't believe this a few years ago.)

Moving home has been truly glorious, but truth is, old context carries old habits. A lot of which I'm not interested in, at all.

I need to remember to always look outwards. (When it's not time to look inwards and only inwards.)

The weather is divine.
I'm gonna go to my cousin's spiritual or just-Being place (whatever people need) and get my head straight.
Then back to Tallinn and I've got a wedding I'm singing at, in this big church. So wonderful that. A wedding. Two people ACTUALLY being brave enough to do it. I have so much respect for that.
Then later on I've got a super exciting meeting and the little opening of this low-key courtyard place.

Happy Saturday.
M.

This is where I'm going today.

stories

Telling stories.

It's so important.
There's something so simple and so powerful at the same time about telling stories.
About deciding to share that little part of you or share that little bit of imagination, or fact, or whatever with someone else.
Deciding they are worth your special story, or deciding you like them enough to really tell them a story.
Or finding someone who respects you enough to really listen to your story.
So simple it's just crazy, so basic.
But in this basic-ness there's just something absolutely magical.
I don't trust people who underestimate telling stories, or listening to stories.
And I don't only mean fairytales. I mean, what happened to you yesterday, or something your little brother once did, or something your grandfather told you, or something you read, or some lyrics to your favourite song.
This sort of sharing, all of this, is storytelling.

And it is important.
I think that's why I like blogging. It doesn't have a word-limit, and I can just tell my stories.
And sometimes the stories are so good I have to re-tell them to my friends in person, message them, or anything. It's the easiest way of sharing and the easiest way to really get under someone's skin. Sharing your stories.
Your adventures
Your likes, and dislikes
Your favourite animals and colours
Your patterns and structures
Your dreams and schemes

Share.
It is scary but it makes life so much more fun. So much more excitement to find someone who is into the exact same dried autumnal leaf shape. Or like, someone who pairs their socks the same way. Or changes octaves when singing along to a song exactly when you do. Or someone who has the same favourite Monet. Or someone who folds their linen the same. Or someone who holds their fork the same way. Or someone who has the same dreams. Or laughs the same way.

Tell stories, because we base ourselves in this context. The giving storytellers give a little bit of themselves to each story and really root and ground themselves. It's nice to belong to stories because they can't shift and change. If you tell them, they are the way they are. The next one will be different.

So therefore.
Tell
dem
stories
M.