Tag Archives: believe

I love you

I have now been blogging for a month! To celebrate, I hereby give you one of my most ‘wacky’ meetings with spirituality, but also one of my absolutely most important ones.
I love telling this story to people who know me well, as they always end up laughing several times through it and yet they actually get the point once I reach the end. Hopefully you will do the same.

In my early twenties I was severely heartbroken. To a degree where I actually think I went a bit crazy for a little while. You see, I had built my life around a boyfriend and truly believed we would get married, have children and all of the things connected to that picture. It started out as a beautiful love story. The kind where you’re so much in love that you can hardly breathe. I specifically remember telling my mother about him (about a week in), while spreading my arms out and float-flying around the kitchen in my childhood home. I was struck. Big time. And, to my big surprise, so was he.

As you have probably figured out by now our love didn’t last forever. One day I came home from college and there he was, on the couch, pretty much in the same spot I had left him during our morning fight. He was crying and, bless him, he had tried to paint his feelings in order for me to understand exactly what was going on inside him. Bottom line was that he wasn’t ready for all of it and I was – he felt trapped. Looking back, I really can’t blame him. I was so incredibly dependent on him that I have to say I’m quite impressed he didn’t leave sooner. I actually planned my week according to his schedule. Yes, it was that bad.

Nevertheless, he left me, and my life froze completely. Nothing functioned and I spent most of my time crying and wondering whether life was really worth living. With time though I did become rather good at socialising and partying especially, but when I was alone I was devastated and life made no sense to me. I remember I actually found partying to be a great escape from it all, right till the next morning when my feelings caught up with me and the hangover somehow made everything even worse. I lost a lot of weight, smoked way to many cigarettes and I was miserable!

One day a friend of mine told me about a man she knew called Dan. A healer. This was the first time I heard of one such and I found the whole thing fascinating (also, I had no better idea as to how I was to leave my own pity party). Apparently this guy had just opened up a place close to where I lived – an event space / studio / healer spot (oh yes, many hats) and my friend had been hired to play the piano at a Christian Healing Ceremony that was to take place in the large event space (as she’s an Atheist, I’m still not quite sure what that was all about).  She asked whether I’d like to come along that night, so I could meet Dan and speak to him about potential healing. Besides, she wasn’t really sure what she had gotten herself involved in so as I had nothing better to do I decided to be a good friend and off we went.

It was Wednesday evening and we laughed all the way there, prepared for a whole lot of ‘Hallelujah’ and talk of God (can I just say that none of us have anything against religion, I’m just not particularly religious myself and my friend is, as mentioned, an Atheist). However, I swear, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to experience…

The Christian Healing Ceremony itself was surreal to say the least. I have no doubt, that if this is your thing, these ladies would be your heroes. However, as Dan’s huge event space was completely new the Healing Ceremony was the first of its kind and the audience was very limited. As in, we were 4 people in the audience. 2 of them were Dan and me, who weren’t supposed to be there in the first place – the other two were a couple of siblings who had apparently both experienced quite severe drama in their lives recently. To say that the place felt rather empty would be an understatement, but they went ahead with it anyway and the siblings took turns going to the stage to receive healing. Yes, there was quite a lot of Hallelujah going on, and I just sat there, stunned and unsure of what I was seeing.
Towards the end of the ceremony one of the healers turned to me and asked me whether I wanted to receive healing. She specifically said ‘I know you’re reluctant, and that’s completely ok. However, you need it and would be doing yourself a favour’. Aha. Right. Well, what did I have to lose?  If you’re in doubt – say yes, right? So I went up there. Besides, saying no would have been rude at this point.
The very nice lady asked me whether I believed in Jesus. ‘Uhm… Undecided’, I replied. I could hardly tell her that I was only there to meet Dan now, could I? She told me that Jesus loved me anyway and that he was there for me. This is the last of our conversation I remember. Suddenly tears were streaming down my face and I felt weightless. My legs seemed to somewhat dissapear beneath me and I sort of blacked out (although, as it turns out, I was standing straight all along). The whole thing felt like it lasted a matter of seconds, but it definitely lasted a lot longer than that.
I eventually turned around to walk back to my seat only to find that Dan stood right behind me! For some reason, this seemed natural at the time, but as he wasn’t part of the ‘show’ he really had no business on that stage. He told me later, that he could tell that the other healer needed help up there. That he had never seen so much negative energy escape a person before and so he had run up on stage to help her remove it. Alrighty then.

So, this was my first healing experience. My second healing experience came to me the same night, straight after the first one. The healer in question this time was Dan. It was rather late (10pm) yet he asked me whether I would like to have a session immediately – and so I followed him to his healer room and we had a chat. The next thing I know I’m crying like a baby on his healer table while struggling to say the following words to myself: ‘I love you, Katrine’. I just couldn’t get the words out. I tried and tried, but something was blocked.

Here’s a little background info for you: All through my childhood I was reminded daily that I wasn’t good enough. I was constantly criticized and never completely accepted in my home, which I guess taught me to look for love everywhere else but within (something I have forgiven a long time ago, but these were the facts I was faced with and the challenges I needed to overcome). I was always sad and cried a lot – until I found my freedom outside the house. When I was with friends it all seemed easier. My friends became family. Generally speaking I was a peoples person, and I found myself ‘there’ for pretty much anyone whenever needed. I could easily relate to pain, and I felt love and acceptance when I was helping them. Basically, I lived for everybody but myself. I was a people pleaser and did everything in my power to make my surroundings like me. So, when my rock-star of a first real love left me I felt absolutely worthless. I was 22 years old and hated my own guts. Everything I had been told during my childhood had come true – of course he didn’t want me! I believed I would never ever be happy again and I was literally unable to say those three basic and ever so important words to myself; ‘I love you’.

see your worth

Back to the story: The healing session was over and I found myself on my bike heading home a little past midnight. Copenhagen was silent and I was alone in the darkness. I had spent 2 hours on Dan’s healing table and the only thing I could remember from this session was the fact that I had cried from start to finish and was unable to say ‘I love you, Katrine’.
I could hardly recognise myself in the mirror when I came home. My face was swollen, my eyes were red and puffy – I looked awful. And I didn’t care. I went straight to bed and fell asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

Next day, Thursday, I was a complete zombie. I felt like I was surrounded by fog and that I was moving in slow motion. I went to classes and spoke to people, but when I came home I didn’t remember a thing. My body was heavy, exhausted and completely drained. I have no recollection of what else happened that day, apart from this; I repeated Dan’s ‘I love you’ exercise right before I went to bed. I had promised him to do so every night before I fell asleep and he had promised me that I would be able to complete it one day.

Friday I woke up in a better mood than I had ever in my life experienced before. I was high! I was flying! Huge amounts of weight had been lifted off my shoulders and life was smiling at me. I remember standing on the balcony in the sun, breathing deeply with a huge smile on my face. I was on my way – I would get there one day. I was learning to love myself.
Believe me when I say, that this was the beginning of a true and amazing love story. My own love story. A love story that no one can mess with and a love story I continue to work on every single day.

The thing about life is that the only person you know will always be with you is yourself. Some people find this fact sad, others find it reassuring. Regardless, this means that the one place you should always be able to find love is from within yourself.
We all need love – no matter what we’ve been through. So, if you haven’t done this already, how about starting up your own gorgeous love story right now? Dan’s recipe can be found below, but feel free to create your own or see a healer, a therapist or anyone else who will be able to help you find your way.

The recipe for Dan’s ‘I love you’ exercise (min. 30 minutes required):

  1. Get comfortable. Lie on a bed, a couch, the floor – you decide. What’s important is that you’re on your back and not bothered by any sounds or things around you. Close your eyes. Place your right hand on your belly – solar plexus, to be precise. Place your left hand over your heart. Relax.
  2. Take deep, slow breaths and let your body get heavy. Concentrate on one body part at a time; Relax your toes (one at a time), your heels, your feet, your ankles, your calves, your knees, your thighs, your abdomen, your hips, your belly, your chest, your shoulders, your upper arms, your elbows, your lower arms, your palms, your fingers (one at a time), your neck, your jaw, your lips, your nose, your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead, your ears, your scalp.
  3. Now, imagine that you are standing inside your head. That you are standing right behind your forehead waiting for an elevator to arrive. It’s up to you to decide what you are wearing and what the elevator looks like. What’s important here is that you wait for the elevator – it will get to you eventually.
  4. Once the elevator reaches you, step inside and push ‘down’. Now imagine how this elevator slides down your forehead, your nose, your lips, your chin, your neck, your collarbone, your chest, and eventually stops at your heart.
  5. Once you reach your heart the elevator doors will open and you can step out. Look at your heart; see it beating – so beautiful and full of life. Now, in your own time, say ‘I love you (your name)’. Repeat. Tell yourself again and again, till you feel you have truly understood the message. Hug your heart if you like – nurture it.
  6. When you’re ready, step back into the elevator, let the doors close and push ‘up’. Now feel how you’re journey back to your head takes you via your chest, your collarbone, your neck, your chin, your lips, your nose and eventually stops in your head.
  7. Step out of the elevator and let yourself slowly come back to your senses.

I was instructed to do this exercise right before I fell asleep each night, but if you find there’s a better time during the day for you to do this, go for it.

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Dancing in the rain

I had lunch with a girl today that I hadn’t seen for a few years. She was actually one of my first acquaintances after coming to London – a brilliant artist with a stunning personality. Meeting her during my first time in London was a gift. However, for some reason we lost contact (although in this day in age you never really lose contact with anyone due to social media).

After starting this blog and sharing the news I have been blessed with hearing from old and new friends, but especially people I haven’t spoken to for years. It has been such a fantastic experience and everyone has been so incredibly positive about this little venture of mine – so thank you! The friend I met up with today was one of these people.

It turns out that during these last years she has gone through quite a lot of pain and suffering. She got married to a lovely man that turned out to be struggling with challenges bigger than what he has been capable of handling. As a result, she has put up with daily negativity and rejection adding to which she has been the victim of heart breaking stories. Recently she left her husband and has consciously taken life into own hands. She is crashing at a friend’s place at the moment and is trying to figure out where to go from here. She is starting over.
Seeing her today – so strong, brave and full of positive energy while telling her story – reminded me of my own adventure and especially of my first few months in London.

I moved to London about 3,5 years ago as a result of a nasty breakup and the urge to get away from the settled life I desperately wanted to live, but  found I had never been further away from achieving. I had been the spectator of my life falling apart for quite a few months at the time, so the chance I took by moving countries didn’t actually seem that crazy or even that challenging (although everyone seemed incredibly impressed by my decision). Yes, I was worried about the outcome, but in the end I just did it. Little did I know that this move would end up changing everything.

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When I first came to London I stayed with my older sister and her family in a gorgeous little town about a 40-minute train ride from the city centre. I would get up in the morning, buy my train & tube ticket and spend the rest of the day roaming the streets of London, trying to figure out how everything was connected, which parts of the city I liked more and hanging out with Mr. Google during meals to find a job and some sort of living arrangement for myself.
I’m not going to lie – these weeks were hard-core! First of all it dawned on me that rent was going to gobble up pretty much all the money I had for survival each month. Secondly, I realised that getting a job in London was extremely up hill when London is not already on your resume and you have no contacts that can help you out. Last, but not least, I often felt that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
Every night I would come back to my sister’s place and either catch up with her and her husband in the kitchen or sneak straight into bed (the bottom bunk of my 7-year-old nieces bunk bed to be precise), ready for what the next day had to offer.

About a week into my struggles I came home rather late one night and snuck into bed, conscious that I shouldn’t wake up my niece while doing so. As I lay there under the duvet it suddenly hit me that I couldn’t stay in this bottom bunk forever. My situation was unexpectedly very clear to me: I was 31, single, homeless, jobless and planning a life that would have me pretty much broke by the beginning of each month. Things could hardly get any worse.
Then I started laughing. I laughed and laughed to a degree that I was sure I would end up waking up my niece. Tears were streaming down my face.  I was happy! Never had life been more exciting. Never before had I had so many options. I felt so alive! I was dancing in the rain.

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That night was my turning point. I had successfully managed to switch my way of thinking – I was focusing on the positive and could feel deep down inside that this move was going to be one of the the best things I had ever done for myself.

Truth be told, several times after this night I had the feeling of everything seeming hopeless, but then I would remind myself of how far I had come and how lucky I was. Suddenly all the pieces started falling into place and I have not looked back since.

One of my best exercies during this time, was reminding myself of what I had to be grateful for: Every night before I closed my eyes, I would write down a minimum of three things I was grateful for. It didn’t have to be massive things. It could be something as simple as:

  1. A stranger smiled at me in the supermarket
  2. The sun was shining today
  3. My favourite song played on the radio

Try it. It might seem silly at first (maybe even hard), but one day you will find this exercise easier and you might come up with five things, seven things or even ten things you are grateful for. All of a sudden you will notice positives all through the day and the times of darkness will seem far away. Trust me.

If you’d like to know more about what positive thoughts can do for you, have a look at this post: Positivity vs. Negativity

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If you’re in doubt – say yes.

Most people are surprised to find that I am a rather private person. I love spending time on my own and don’t usually share my inner feelings with people unless I truly trust them. For this reason, starting a blog is a rather terrifying experience.

So why do it then? Because I have learnt that we usually regret the things we don’t do a lot more than the things we do. And in this case I’d rather try and fail with the knowledge that ‘at least I tried’, than wonder what it might have been like if I had followed through. After all, I have nourished the idea of a blog for quite a while now.

Another way to put it; If you’re in doubt – say yes. A sentence a very good friend of mine introduced me to several years ago. She used it mainly when it came to male acquaintances, but it is very much applicable to general life. If you find yourself faced with doubt as to whether to throw yourself at something or stay at home under the duvet I say do it. What’s the worst that can happen? She didn’t show up? You didn’t like it? You weren’t good at it? You froze in front of several hundreds of people? Sure, this sucks for a little while, but eventually it becomes a part of the past and then at least you will know you tried. Now imagine you didn’t do it. That you stayed at home. Chances are you might never think of it again, but you might also end up thinking of it every day, once a week / a month / a year for the rest of your life, because ‘what if?’. What would have happened? What if going backpacking in Asia in your 30’s had been the most amazing experience you had ever had? What if going back to university turned out to be exactly what was required for your dream job a few years later? What if putting your foot down would make you free of the chains you’ve been living in for a decade? What if that girl in the café could have become the mother of your children one day, if you had just had the guts to say hello?

With all of the above in mind I will now push the publish button of this, my first, blog post.

What if I fall?

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