Death. Again. And Awareness.

Death. We all know (more or less) that it is coming, but when it does, it is still always a surprise. Even though I expected my father to die sooner rather than later because of his advanced Morbus Parkinsons disease, when he did die seven days…

Two years ago today Steve died.

My antennas are on high alert. During a recent dinner conversation, someone formed his fingers into the shape of a revolver and held it up to his jaw, to illustrate some concept he was talking about. Immediately bright images flashed by my inner…

YES! Teaching Tantra Again

YES, I will be teaching Tantra again! I wrote the following blog post a couple of months ago but am only ready to share it publicly now. Here it goes: For the longest time, I didn't listen to music. After Steve died, hearing any kind of melody…

The White Wall

All of the interior walls of my temporary home in Denmark are freshly painted in bright white. My fingers poised on the computer keyboard, I raise my eyes to the stark white wall in front of me. Nothing. Emptiness. My fingers are not moving.…

The Spirit of Cancer

Two years ago today I received the devastating metaplastic breast cancer diagnosis, with poor prognosis. Today I am vibrantly alive. On this bewildering anniversary, I would like to share a powerful story that has been close to my heart, and…

On Being at Home

Here I am in Denmark. Ever since leaving our place in Costa Rica 11 days ago, Coco and I have been on the road. My natural disposition is that of a homebody, so traveling here and there is not easy for me. Coco doesn't seem to be bothered; she's…

Trauma, Truth & Trust

I am exhausted, sitting on the sofa. My friend ever so gently picks up one of my feet and strokes it softly. His tenderness and love flowing into me make my heart burst open. The trauma I am holding in my cells is triggered instantly. The…

Being Joy

Joy. We can never take it for granted. Before the breast cancer and Steve's murder I had a lot of joy. Mostly I recognized it on photographs and when I saw my shining eyes in the mirror, but honestly, I did not really feel it. Then the s#*%…

I already died

(Note the past tense.) Yes, I hit the wall, I arrived at rock bottom. No, I did not want to live any more. The dark night of the soul, the darkest hour, period. The tiredness was total and overpowering; I let myself be tiredness personified.…