dreams

We don't need to know what we're good at to dream.
Maybe these crazy dreams we get every now and then are there to show us what we would be good at.
If we'd just give ourselves a chance.

Maybe that's what the dreams are for.

Take them seriously.
I mean, we gotta for it to work, you know?

Goethe on öelnud: "Sel hetkel, kui inimene ennast millelegi täielikult pühendab, tuleb appi ka Ettemääratus. Juhtuvad kõiksugu asjad, mis muidu poleks juhtunud, terve sündmuste vool, mis toob inimeseni kõik ettenägematud juhtumid, kohtumised ja abi, millest poleks osanud unistadagi." - See more at: http://alkeemia.ee/artiklid/Unistamisest/l-5/c-1280/#sthash.LfbzKGEe.dpuf

Goethe has said: The moment when an individual commits themselves to something whole heartedly, predetermination steps into play. Allsorts of things start to happen, that otherwise wouldn't have, a whole flow of events, that brings unforeseen happenings, meetings and help, that one could not have dreamt of.

Goethe.

Yours truly. 

M. 

goodnight

Today was SUPER (!!).
And last night was one big revelation. Like, huge. A huge revelation.

So highly highly significant times all around.
But I shall most probably elaborate on all this soon.

For now, I wish you a good night and peaceful sleep.
My cat is currently making an attempt to physically climb onto me, to get comfy.

And tomorrow it's time to carry on this great new-found energy.
Praise the heavens, it was about time.

With love.
M.

to my dear london

As I was walking from the plane through the Heathrow terminal towards the baggage reclaim, on the 11th of January 2013, I realised this was the last time I would be landing in London, for some time.
And then I got to thinking of reasons. Not that I need to, but it just happened. Reasons, and past times spent in London, and what I've gained here, and how this place has shaped me.

I arrived in London on the 2nd of September 2006. Spent 2 days in town and the quite literally headed for the unknown in Chigwell School which was the beginning of my road to independence.
I was always an independent young person growing up but there is only so much independence you can get whilst still living with your parents.
The school wasn't opened so it must have been a weekend. No, actually, I think we all arrived 3 weeks before the start of term, to get settled in.
I remember loving the house, seeing the house cat and struggling to sleep the first night. I used to be really very scared of darkness and therefore sleeping in unfamiliar places was a huge task. One which I didn't manage that night.

This was the beginning of two of the absolute best years of my life. I worked so hard, got so many friends, gained so so much ..everything. Just life experience.
Also, did a lot of less deep and meaningful things like, lots of football, eating cake, latenight chats with the boarding house girls who became my sisters, especially one of them, free long-distance phone calls, trampolining, playing polo in the swimming pool, watching sports in the big boarding house for boys, having 2 great house parties - and I mean great - and wearing suits and ties to school.

This was also the beginning of a process through which I would actually get to know myself. I was used to performing by this point so handling pressure was not the problem.
(Ps, I would usually apologise about how 'tacky' this is, but not tonight. I'm sat in my empty room, in a house full of my friends, who happen to be asleep. It's 1:23am and I'm blogging because this seems to be the best idea of how to say goodbye.)
However, living abroad, away from my family and friends at 17 was quite something, and something I am intensely proud of. For some people similar experience might be easy, easier than getting up and singing in front of a lot people, for example, but for me this was hard.

6,5 years on and I realised something standing on the escalator at Heathrow terminal.
I've racked up some serious air miles. I've flown back and forth between London and Tallinn for roughly 55 times and somewhere in between all this I've found me.

Feel free to sigh and roll your eyes a little, but honestly, I can't explain this any other way. It's like I landed here, already a grown human, having worked and having had responsibilities for so long. But in retrospective it feels like, I came here and I grew up, I grew down and then I re-grew. I literally at some point must have decided - hey this is not you, now change. Take all these things that are broken, or misplaced, or wrong, or make you sad, and face them, do something about them. Take the bits and re-work yourself.
Because it's not like I don't have the time.
We all have the time.

And now, 6,5 years on I am sentimental at the thought of what I've gained here, and what I'm leaving here.
Somewhere on the football pitches in Chigwell I got a bit closer.
Somewhere in a dark corner of the Studio Theatre at Royal Holloway, I found something.
And somewhere in the cracks of the Covent Garden pavements.
Somehow in the freeing air of the big city atmosphere I realised in order to grow up I need to grow down.
Somehow I was lucky and blessed enough to find people in this city who inspire me, again and again and again, people who change me and challenge me.
People who would sit up till early morning hours to look after me, and people to look out for me.
People who for some reason really care about whether I will get to places in this life, and would help me get there.
So I'm sat here, very happy and very sad, and as excited as I am anxious. And proud and grateful and blessed.
I am so thankful for the steps that lead me here and for the ones that will lead me home.

I love you, London. And for being my Adventure Land you will forever have my respect.


I think I'm ready to go for the next step now.
And oh holy heavens, it's as exciting as it is scary.


And that, is truly magnifique.

I'm going home.
With love.
M.

disney

I salute you, people of Disney.

"Paperman".
And the power of dreams, I guess. 
M.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTLySbGoMX0&feature=share

if in doubt....

...GET SOME EXCITING PLANS OUT.
(This is currently the stage of unofficial excitement.)

But more about this later on.


So.
I noticed that for some reason I have started giving myself the worst possible chance of success.
Because "if it's easy, it's not worth it"? (big fat whatever, doesn't actually matter "why", to be honest..)

one day.
it would take me one day to catch up with everything that's lagging right now.
just one day.
and I've been putting off this one day for like, what, a week? More than a week?
It's ridiculous. and just a whole separate level of sheer stupidity.
and if I don't catch up, it will give me more reasons, more excuses later on, to say why something didn't go like this or like that.
it's like I'm cushioning my own failure, ALREADY.
So as opposed to saying "heck, I tried, I really tried", I'd have to opportunity to say "weelllll, there was thiiiis, there was thaaaat... blah, blah, blah"
Madness.

Why not have a fresh cup of screw-you, aaand actually help myself?
Why not just for once give myself the ultimate best chance of success? And not turn myself into this pitiful charity case? (which I'm SO not.)
Why not?
What is this fear of failure?
Cause surely, every goal is just a step in itself, not a finite point. So okay, yeah, whatever, you failed at point A, but then there's point B, and point C, and point D, and (surprise-surprise!) point E, you catch my drift. So surely, preparation for each point only makes it better for the next one. And these points don't end at Z. They end when our lives end, because that's the point. You go, go, go, go, go, go. You do things, until you don't.
Fear of failure... Why? And failing at what?
(loads of noises indicating "being irritated".)

So fear of failure is just so. f*cking. stupid.
(and also very aggravating stuff.)

ps. I'm going to read this tomorrow morning. Maybe out loud, for good measure.
Peace out.

helping yourself
M.

post-singing idyll

Children will be children.
Concrete grey.


My writings back in the day, before The Big Move, were so angry. Quick-tempered. Maybe I've lost my balls of writing.
Or maybe I've just calmed down. Or maybe I've just learnt how to calm down.

I did something good today. Something good for myself, and something I should be proud of.
So this is my moment of Congratulations-Maria-well-done.

"USALDA END JUHUSELE JA VAATA, MIS SAAB"
Trust youself to chance, and see what happens.

In retrospective it is kind of funny how scared I was of going away. I read it on paper, but I can't remember the feeling. I remember the night 23 days and 6 years ago when for the first time I packed my big red suitcase that has now become one of the 5 constants in my life. I remember the night, I remember my cat, my dad with some Coronas and lime (well done, Father) and I remember some numb panic. But the run-up - it's just gone.
Trust yourself to chance.

I'm kind of sorry I deleted my really melancholic blog, pre-dating the 2005 one.
I'd like to read it like now. A diary of sorts of how it has all been, and how it has gone.

Drum and bass gave it clarity. A very singular meaning and a razorsharp focus. Which was really lacking. Just non-existent.
M. is for Mayhem.

a chance

WE MUST GIVE IT A CHANCE
Fate, must be granted, a chance.
A risk. A gamble.

Just a chance. Nothing more.
So it's not nulled by default.
Just a chance.

GIVE IT, A CHANCE,
to become something.
to grow into something.
before saying, no, or too hard,
or too out there, or too
WHATEVER.
just a chance

or i'm not worth it. or it's too good to be true.
it doesn't have to be hard,
it doesn't have to be difficult.
sometimes things just are. but if dismissed,
they will never amount to anything.
unless given a shot to grow
maybe it will.
maybe it won't.
the fuck knows.
but as long as i've done a little,
just a little to see what's going to happen,
i can at least know that it wasn't my loss
it isn't my regret
cause i didn't slam the door,
i didn't forget to thank them,
i didn't look away,
i didn't not smile

what if it doesn't?
Oh, but what if it does.