.SOMETIMES RAW.

I love this time of year when leaves change colour and die right in front of me. Nothing prettier than a deceased leaf hanging from a tree in its final few moments on earth. It makes me want to wrap an oversized scarf around my neck and take a walk through the carnage. Stunning.

What I like most in this season of decay is how cozy I feel in a sweater. The air is crisp, the sun is bright, and the death rattle of falling leaves reminds me that there’s a season for everything. And this one is for dying and being dead. Makes me feel like going to an orchard and murdering some apples for pie.

Do you hear the wind gently rustling the trees? That’s the sound of a million leaves meeting their maker. Soon, I’ll rake their shriveled, broken husks, then let them rot and mold on the lawn while repeatedly saying, “I should really bag up those leaves.” What a magical time of year, when the world gives up and dies.

I love when small dogs wear sweaters and boots and shiver uncontrollably. I sit on my front porch with a warm mug of tea between my hands, watching nature fight for its life. The world feels still because it’s slipping into an extended, deep unconsciousness and/or death. Soon, the hearty bear will crawl into a hole and get as close to dying as possible by choice.

Sometimes I feel strangely sad when everything is dark, dead, and frozen. I can’t get my head right while my brain withers and begs for sunlight. Luckily, some holidays are coming up, so I can accrue debt, eat food that gives me gas, and feel anxious around my family. When the new year comes, I’ll declare, “This will be the best year yet!” Then watch new horrors unfold every day from my winter depression nest on the couch.

When the snow finally snuffs out the last bit of life, I look around and think, lovely. Each snowflake is unique, just like me. But without the distress of being different that leads to mental instability. Lucky! I will hurt my back shoveling my car out of the snow, so I can eventually skid into a ditch and call my friend crying.

There is truly a season for everything, and this one is for contracting the flu and every furnace dying on the coldest night of the year, which is the only time we ever need them, but they’re dead. How do you feel about autumn and the winter season? Obviously, there are many really cool things about this season, too. Like reading. All the time. Curled up with as much tea as possible, a blanket, and close to my personal library is bliss.

How about you? Please do share below. Stay warm.

I don’t know if you know, but I am a Certified Holistic Nutritionist and have a pretty healthy, balanced lifestyle. Minus the daily occasional Lindt Noisette Chocolate in the evening. One has to admit, there are just so many (food) choices out there. With all the new food trends, superfoods, lotions, supplements, and potions, it is easy to lose track of what to eat and what not. And how to live and how not to. And when to meditate, and practice Yoga, Pilates, go jogging, and work and keep one or more children alive. I try to keep it as simple as possible (with everything in life), use whole foods whenever possible and cook simple recipes, preferably at home. If you have more questions, send me an email if you would like.

To keep it simple, one easy thing that everybody can do is to drink a glass of lemon water first thing in the morning. This is a healthy way to start the day and get the body detox going. You can even add some cucumber slices. On an empty stomach which means before you pound down the half liter of coffee to get you to work and the second liter to keep your eyes open. This won’t be a health article per se but more a funny twist on my morning lemon water drink. So this is what happened the other day when I had my morning glass of lemon water. Or didn’t it happen? I am not so sure anymore. You know by now that funny, weird things tend to happen to me all the time.

So, I wake up and drag my tired body out of the bed, to the bathroom and to the kitchen. There are some lemons, and the faucet. And me. And my eyes barely open. Just a normal morning.

The faucet fills my glass with water, but I don’t dare take a sip yet. As I squeeze the lemon into my drink, I mentally levitate. It’s true that I am now earthier and less judgmental. With just one sip of lemon water, I feel myself become effortlessly radiant. Wow, what is happening to me? So much energy out of a sudden. My eyes are wide open. I feel like Mary Poppins who is about to clean the entire house, split an atom and find a cure for AIDS. Maybe too much energy? Who knows.

I even skip my morning coffee because I’m high on vitamin C. My body is detoxing, and I feel more in tune with the miraculous rhythms of life. I tell my boss I won’t be coming to work today, or ever again. My job has made me so tired lately anyway. When my boss sends me a threatening email to come back ASAP, I don’t answer but have another sip of lemon water instead. My senses feel heightened, and I am suddenly porous to the universe and all it offers me. Besides, I am Mary Poppins, I think while I put my running gear on. Who needs work anyway?

During my eight-kilometer run, I barely sweat. A passerby points at me, asking whether I’ll give the eulogy at his funeral. I am now an empath and tell him his uncurable disease is not actually a death sentence. Has he tried lemon water? I imagine a cable news anchor asking me what it feels like to save lives for a living.

After soaking in the hot tub for an hour, I am pruned and immortal. I fry an egg in a perfect circle. I meditate with my eyes open. I became bilingual after watching a French movie for fifteen minutes. I get Wordle in two guesses. You don’t have Wordle yet? The app? Stop reading any fruther and download it now!

Is this how Neil Armstrong felt when he set foot on the moon?

When my friend walks into the kitchen, I feel more attracted to him than ever. The argument we had last night feels like a poem, abstract and far away.

“Want some lemon water, babe?” I say, giving him a toothy smile.

“No,” he responds, but I can tell he’s super in love with me. I squeeze him a glass anyway, knowing he’ll thank me later.

It’s true that I started the argument for no reason but wasn’t it the Dalai Lama who said forgiveness breaks the cycle of suffering?

I notice my screaming child in the living room, drawing on the walls with a magic marker, but I no longer allow his toxic energy to consume my life. I stare at him and decide this is the moment I shall set him free. I am no longer a mother, a thankless job. I give him a quartz crystal and wish him good luck on his journey.

While sitting under a tree in a hemp muumuu, I ponder whether I should become a novelist or a shaman. Realizing I have only a background in the former I am going with the latter because I no longer have limiting beliefs about my potential. I take a three-hour nap, then buy a journal and five hundred lemons, and sell the rest of my earthly possessions.

I book a one-way ticket to Bali. As the plane’s wheels lift during take off, I smile to myself and muse, “When life hands you lemons…”

I sometimes write things down to comfort myself. Stuff learned in bad times. Thoughts. Meditations. Lists. Examples. Things I want to remind myself of. Or things I have learned from other people or other lives. It is a strange paradox, that many of the clearest, most comforting life lessons are learned while we are at our lowest. We never think about food more than when we are hungry and we never think about life rafts more than when we are thrown overboard. So, these are some of my life rafts. The thoughts that have kept me afloat. I hope some of them might carry you to dry land, too.

It’s okay to be a mess. It’s okay to wear the scars of experience. It’s okay to like what you like. It’s okay to be sentimental and whimsical and cry bittersweet tears at songs and movies you aren’t supposed to love. It’s okay to be who you are. It’s okay to make the most of every chunk of time.

Change is real: We turn keys all the time. Or rather, time turns keys all the time. Because time means change. And change is the nature of life—the reason to hope.

To be is to let go. Self-forgiveness makes the world better.

In order to get over a problem it helps to look at it. You can’t climb a mountain that you pretend isn’t there.

Aim to be You: If you aim to be something you are not, you will always fail. Aim to be you. Aim to look and act and think like you. Embrace that you-ness. Endore it. Cherish it. Love it. And don’t give a f*** if people mock you for it.

When things go dark, you can’t see what you have. That doesn’t mean you don’t have those things. Those things remain, right there in front of you. All you need is to light a candle or ignite some hope, and you can see that what you thought was lost was merely hidden.

One day this will all be over. And we will be grateful for life in ways we never felt possible before.

We grow through hard times. Growth is change. And when everything is easy, we have no reason to change. The most painful moments in life expand us. And when the pain leaves, space remains. Space we can fill with life itself.

Love stillness. Slowness. When nothing is happening. The blueness of the sky. Inhaling clean air. Birdsong over traffic. Lone footsteps. I used to think the quiet patches felt dead. Now they feel more alive. Like leaning over and listening to the earth’s heartbeat.

Don’t envy things you wouldn’t actually want. Don’t absorb criticism from people you wouldn’t go to for advice. Don’t fear missing parties you would probably want to leave. Don’t worry about fitting in. Be your own tribe. Don’t argue with people who will never understand you. Don’t believe anyone has it all figured out. Don’t imagine there is an amount of money or success or fame that could insulate you from pain.

For when you hit rock bottom: You have survived everything you have been through and will survive this, too. You are more than a bad day, or week, or month, or year, or even decade. You are a future of multifarious possibilities. You are another self at a point in future time looking back in gratitude that this lost and former you held on.

To remember during the bad days: It won’t last. You have felt other things. You will feel other things again. Emotions are like weather. They change and shift. Clouds can seem as still as stone. We look at them and hardly notice a change at all. And yet they always move. The worst part of any experience is where you feel like you can’t take it anymore. You are still here. And that is everything.

You can try to organize your experience but you can not actually control time itself. Try to enjoy moments of rest when they come. The waiting is part of it.

As soon as we realize that it is not our job to be perfect, everything gets easier and more honest and more true.

And now ask yourself: If you could strip away all your distractions and obligations, who would you be left with?