Peace on Earth, Peace of Mind, and an occasional Piece of Insanity

My system was craving, screaming, begging for endorphins, in as huge doses as possible! My mind was working overtime, making my heart pound, my breathing shallow and my head and body ache. I had a thousand things I needed to deal with, some of which I had no idea even how to begin tackling.

But how to get my shot of endogenous morphine? It was the middle of the week (mind you, I am keeping myself on a strict regime), it was 9.30 in the morning (you don’t need a strict regime not to start your day with alcohol), so a glass of red wine or two was out of the question. Raiding a pharmacy was not an option, and all other ways of obtaining what I wanted were either illegal or immoral, so I settled for what almost invariably works for me: A workout, on this particular occasion, a swim-in.

There was not a second to lose...

Read  Peace on Earth, Peace of Mind and an occasional Piece of Insanity

The Inner Game of Taekwon-do

The «language» of Taekwon-do is foreign to me, in any connotation of the word. I don’t know the first thing about Korean, even though I over the years through two of my offsprings have been exposed to a fair share of yop cha jirugis, ap cha oligis, ap cha busigis and not to forget a whole bunch of momchau makgis. Fortunately, all merely in a literary sense.  When it comes to the inner language; the history and background, the hows and whens and dos and don’ts, I am but an infant; interested, but still only vaguely aware of the contours of an unknown world.

The little I have gleaned has revealed an organization with strong emphasis on respect for authorities, i.e. anyone superior in “rank”, and reverence for the sport and its origin. “Standing” is signified by an easily deciphered dress code, at a glance identifiable for The Initiated, rendering it simple to do the right thing, e.g. bow in the right direction, at the right time to the right person.

The sense of respect so thoroughly permeates the atmosphere that even I on occasion have instinctively inclined my head along with everybody else, instantly afterwards shaking my head, wondering what the heck I’m doing.

The high ranked coaches are in TKd contexts confident, solemn, serious and strictly business looking. That, together with their physically fit stature, intuitively convinces you that these are people you want to stay on good terms with. Even though I have been informed time and again by “insiders” as to the human qualities of the above mentioned, I have always played it safe, staying at an arm’s length plus a little more, away from the in-attitude-Samurai-lookalikes.  All the greater was my surprise...   Read The Inner Game of Taekwon-do

Surfin’ USA

I was just going along for the ride. Never been surfing in my life, had no intention of starting now. The sun was shining, the skies blue, smiling people in wetsuits were coming and going, their board on top of their car, sticking out of their trunk, tucked under their arm, or in some cases haphazardly secured to their bikes…, I couldn’t help myself: I wanted to be part of it all, and before I came to my senses I jumped right in and asked if there was room for one more. Sure enough; the ocean is big, the surf store guy didn’t mind earning the extra money: I was in. Way over my head, I feared, but feeling a thrilling sensation in my stomach.

It really was a gorgeous day; the color of the grass, the sky, sea and sand…, it was all quite breathtaking. A sensation that would be experienced several times during the next couple of hours, although in a more concrete way…

Our instructors were friendly and welcoming, looking just like surf instructors are supposed to look; lean, tanned, hair bleached by year round exposure to sea and sun. In this area there is no such thing as off season; it never gets really cold, and with a wetsuit you are prepared for most kinds of weather conditions.

Donning the darn suit was surprisingly difficult, though. We struggled to get into the uncompromisingly stiff, unyielding  and heavy contraption, helping each other as best as we could, occasionally getting pointers about which way to wear the thing, how to close the zipper in the back, pulling the collar over the head and closing the whole thing at the neck without suffocating (yet another sensation that would become fairly familiar a little later).

When we were all eventually properly dressed for the occasion, we nodded and looked approvingly at each other, and as best as we could, ourselves. We felt pretty smart and perky. How hard could this surfing thing be? I mean, after all, we were Norwegians, practically born with skies attached to our feet.

It turned out it could be hard, really hard…

The beginning was encouraging, and just a tad misleading, though: The first few times we, more or less elegantly, managed to get up and stay upright on the board for quite a while. We laughed and smiled confidently at each other.

Then it was time to hit the water…

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Beach Boys Surfin' USA song and video

Peace, Pelicans and Papercup Ponderings With Working Link

Peace, Pelicans and Papercup Ponderings (Thursdag April 5th) now has a working link

See the blogpost or read here Peace, Pelicans and Papercup Ponderings

Is that all there is

I ask myself

in the face

of ignorance

my own and others

in the face of

indifference

passivity

negativity

hurt

violence

friends struggling

with life
each other

unlived lives

unloved loves

wasted opportunities

 

And then...

Read...Is that all there is

Dissilutionment Thomas Mann

Nature Boy, Nat King Cole

The Blind Side (film, feel good, fun, inspiring, well acted)                                                             

Head wiggling

I am reading yet another book set in India. Even though it’s now “A major motion picture”, it is, in my opinion, not a particularly good book, content- , structure- or language wise. The story is quite superficial, the characters are difficult to identify with and the research not impressive. 

Still, there is something about it, maybe reminding me of other tales I’ve heard or read, or possibly even experienced, stirring something within me. Something elusive, yet real, that makes me want to go there, be there, become absorbed in its overwhelming non conformity, where the improbable is the norm, the unique the standard, and  the average nonexistent. I feel like losing myself in a society unfathomably rich in people and diversity, in culture, religion, language and geography. A country developing so fast in some areas that it is hard to keep up, in others so backward it is hard to comprehend, let alone accept. 

The smells… of decay, sewage, funeral pyres…, the scents… of skillfully prepared and tasty slow food, of trees and flowers…. 

Read Head Wiggling

Peace, Pelicans and Papercup Ponderings

The day was stretched out before me, and when I cast a glance at my bed stand clock, seeing it was 5 o’clock, I realized it would be a long one. Outside it was pitch dark. Just the lights on the other side of Mission Bay bore sign that there was life out there, although all life with an inch of sense in it would still be asleep.

There was no chance, though, that I would be able to go back to sleep. I had been up at 6 the previous morning, travelled the whole day, in the process cutting through 3 time zones in a westerly direction. So by 7.30 PM I felt a little drowsy and lay down on my bed, fully clad, as I was only planning to close my eyes for a few minutes.

…I woke up at 11 PM, ready for a new day…As Day wasn’t really ready for me yet, I slipped into something more comfortable, brushed my teeth and just barely made it back to bed before I was out like a light.

So now, here I was, fit as a fiddle, well at least as a base guitar, at 5 o’clock in the morning, with a soon to be bright day ahead of me. I didn’t have any definite plans, other than getting better acquainted with the Mission and Pacific Beach Area... 

 Read more...  Peace, Pelicans and Papercup Ponderings