Seedthoughts

Has your day ever lit up with a sudden and unexpected finding? A note in the book you took from the library? A box urging you to pick it up, containing a magic surprise a stranger had left there for you?

This is what seedthoughts wants to get growing!

The idea is to leave around notes, images, boxes and whatever one can come up with.

Purpose? Set people's thoughts and smiles on fire!

http://get-growing.blogspot.com/

Trying to party

I feel like I never became 20 and I actually got stuck into that teen-age.
Today, after an amazing walk and morning conversation, I thought that my problem was solved. I thought I had discovered what it was, and therefore how to solve it.

My problem, my morning thoughts told me, is that I don't have enough fun. Fun for fun's sake, not as a derivative of any activist or making-the-world-a-better-place oriented action. They are fun and rewarding, I will never deny so, but they are not enough. Not enough if one wants to avoid burnout and a general dissatisfaction with the fact that things aren't going that much better in general terms.

So I thought: that's it, I just need to party more! I need to cut down on commitments and to-do's so that I don't feel the need to avoid partying, so to sleep more, so to have more time and energy for everything.
I felt like maybe I was missing that sort of university life everybody seems to have.

I'm even afraid of being drunk. Afraid of losing myself, of feeling ill, of not being able to make the most of my thoughts and emotions.
And the problem is that... that's fine! And yet I still try to dress up, and paint my face, and all of that, so that I somehow fit in the idea of normality circulating around. Maybe so that I forget the need of constant challenge of the status quo. That tiring yet necessary action.

I came back home, I looked into the mirror. And even though I saw a beautiful face enhanced by the skills of dark eye lines, I can't help but feel like a puppet whose show was way too poor, not even the most simple disguise can make me fit.

I know it's all exaggerated by the power of tears and hormones,
and by not having anybody to hug

I know it all doesn't make sense once I truly rationally think about it

I know it's bullshit coming out of a possible lack of self-confidence

but whatever it is,
it still hurts, it still makes me feel vulnerable.
And if I am writing such a personal statement in such a public space, it might be cause I'm ...
i'm just Neus, doesn't that explain it enough?

Pensaments blancs

M'he emocionat.

I la mar ha aconseguit trencar les barreres físiques i ficar-se dins els meus ulls sense que me n'adonara.

M'he emocionat perquè, asseguda davant la mar, amb el so de l'espuma besant les roques, m'he sentit plena de gent.

Voldria compartir una abraçada i una conversa amb tota la gent que m'estime i que està repartida arreu del món. I no m'entristeix el no poder fer-ho. Seria una bogeria posar-se trista per quelcom que, de fet, sí que pots fer.

Ni un veloç repàs mental de totes aquelles persones que m'agradaria tenir a la vora és suficient per abastir ni una decena part d'aquestes.

I això em recomforta.

Sent la màgia vibrar allà on el cel i la mar fan l'amor per donar vida a aquell qui dibuixa esperances millor que ningú: l'horitzó.

Mire enllà, i a través de dolces llàgrimes, veig somriure tots aquells qui m'estime.

De sobte, estar sola no significa res si sé que ma mare li somriu a la vida, que ma germana segueix lluitant amb valentia, que Lidon fa molt feliç a mon pare, que la gent a Mostar aprofita els últims dies, que Evan es menja el món com si fos un gelat, que Yuval està content a l'exèrcit, que Ruth Mari Emma Veronica Candela Georg Nico ForestVolunteers i tota la resta segueixen escampant màgia pel món amb la seua simple presència, que els amics de Castelló estan contents, que Lale està pagada de la meua bufanda, que Alberto segueix amb el cul tan inquiet com sempre, que el iaio Vitorino, si pot somriure, segur que ho està fent, que la meua germana major... és feliç - de ser i de no ser - d'haver permés que una persona tan meravellosa com jo puga existir a la faç de la terra.

Seria una bona metàfora per a explicar perquè el meu cor és tan gran i treballa at an unsustainable efficiency rate.

This is the power of NOW.

The joy of existing. The love for other people's lives. The peace of knowing that dying know would not make me regret a single thing.

Un somriure, i cap a l'hotel a skypear.

I'm yours

I was thinking about which language to write this post in. Catalan or English? Sometimes I feel like a traitor, when such spontaneous expressions/thoughts like "fuck, I'm cold!" or "right, now I'll..." come up in English.

But, eventually, more than a language-identity crisis, the choice over language for the blog responds more to another question: who am I writing for? For I am obviously writing for people to read me, otherwise I would just keep it in my diary.

And then, over the hotel's radio channel, there was the answer: Jason Mraz's song I'm yours.

The beginning of the tune always puts me in a better mood. Nevertheless, today it managed to make me cry.

I am stuck in this Croatian hotel until Thursday.

Stuck because, even though the wheather is now as amazing as the food, I really want to get back to Edinburgh.

I cannot say that I feel lonely, I have e-mails, facebook and skype; plus, I meet quite often some women (from Liverpool, Sheffield, and nearby Edinburgh) who are a great fun.

But I need my people. I need somebody to give me a long and deep hug.

To find myself among the fabulous P&Pers, to have breakfast with Candela and tea with Georg, to feel the Forest Café through my five senses again and to look after the Old Hat Books in an always-full-of-surprises shift, to enjoy the Meadows grass, to see the city passing by my bike's wheels, to help out Food not Bombs beyond stupid e-mails from this hotel...

It is not too bad though. Because with the extra help of The Power of NOW, I am even happier with life as it comes. I would be insane to deny how nice it is in this hotel, with the beach nearby, the weather getting better and better, and the food being great (all of which makes it difficoult to get down to writing the essay due this friday...).

But, as I said, my heart is longing for its beloved ones. And I'm wondering how much longer will the soothing sound of the sea manage to calm it down.

Even though the waves remind you that time is passing just as they do, the infinity of the ocean makes Thursday look extremely far in the horizon.

So this is why the song gave me the answer. Why I was so happy to leave Mostar after visit present memories.

Edinburgh, I'm yours.

Smile! ... or your day might fade away

I'm feeling all funny.

As a sentence came up in the Loesje workshop: "Do many homes make you homeless?"

If in Winter I would not have been surprised to see myself coming back to study in Valencia while living in my hometown; right now I cannot wait to get back to Edinburgh, not having many troubles with the thought that I might not go home for the summer break. All of this alongside the building up plan to have a sabbatical year in Bosnia i Herzegovina.

It seems as if I always wanted to be somewhere else.

"Travelling is your way home" or "Travel to find your home" (both also born in the Loesje workshop). Two very similar sentences and yet so different.

Maybe home is everywhere, if home is where your heart is. For my heart is broken into pieces which I have not yet finished exchanging. Like the old man in the story I always tell.

Being "home" is relaxing, yet it can be scary as well. It reminds you of what could have been and is not. It throws on your face your lack of attention, just as it rewards you with those invisible bonds that sometimes, only sometimes, seem to hold even after the longest silences. It comforts you with the always same street but unbalances you with those ever changing small details that you have no control nor experience over. Everything is as equal as it is different.

Today we came to Herbers, my (father's) village. I should remember more often the good that fresh air and nature does to me.

Lunch was over and my dad and I took two sofas to the terrace, and I started my almost-naked sunbathing session (one has to take the most out of this powerful sun before going back to Edinburgh) while reading the newspaper.

The day has had nothing special apart from easy conversations alongside nice walks. Which is sometimes all you need. Plus a few photos and songs in a small flowered field.

I left the only bar in the village early (1.20am), too tired and unsociable enough to not want to make any effort to chat with people I barely know, or whom I stopped knowing. On my doorstep I stopped to look at the sky, wondered if I should not have gone for a walk to see the stars.

But you see, watching stars is of no beauty if you do not have, by your side, somebody to share stories and warmth with.

And here I am, blaming the coffee I had at 11pm, which will probably keep me awake for a while, chatting with myself.

I want to spend some more time home, I want to be in Mostar in an hour and, yet, I also want to be in Edinburgh as soon as possible. How impossible.

I think the happiest day in my life would be the one I could gather all my beloved ones in a big laughing-picnic.

But a hectic world, climate change and peak oil seem to put some barriers for my perfect moment of happiness.

Not that I mind much, I have always been prompt to believe that happiness comes from those small smiles drawn into people's faces, those unnoticed wonders that suddenly become magically visible for the trained eye.

As one of the beautiful postcards Vera gave me:

Jeder Tag trägt tausend Möglichkeiten

Der Freude, der Hoffnung

Und eines kleinen Glüks in sich:

Ganz still und unbemerkt,

Inmitten dieser lauten welt,

Können die herrlichsten

Wunder geschehen.

Es sind jene kleinen Ereignisse,

Die das Leben hell und schön machen,

Jene kostbaren Augenblicke,

Von denen nur das Herz weiss.

Every day offers a thousand opportunities

Of joy, of hope

And of small fortune within it:

Silently and unnoticed,

In the middle of this loud world,

The most amazing wonder can occur.

They are these small things,

That make life bright and beautiful,

Those valuable moments

That only your heart knows of.

I think I am mistaken. Community Education is not my career; nor are they, as I have lately been wondering, Library Management or Literature. It is not being a clown either.

I am probably training in being one of those little fairies who whisper smiles in your ear, mess with your words and hands till you discover that hidden creativity you always thought as lost, and who, recklessly as magic creatures are, would not mind destroying themselves in the attempt of bringing happiness to the world.

Little boys and girls:

SMILE!

=)

Or your (to)day will fade away.

A star from the sky

Yesterday, walking home, I went up the sky to get a star.

I stole it, I cut the string that was holding it to get the light for myself, thinking I had not enough.

Yet (or maybe because of that) today has been crap. Crying my tears out, feeling like a breadcrumb that is not even big enough for an ant to bother with it.

Luckily, in Catalan we can differentiate from "ser" and "estar", and I am certain about the temporary character of my tears.

Tessa randomly appears, as a gift from heaven, and hugs me bringing back the warmth from Mostar; my catalan thoughts connecting me home and my feet grounding me to Edinburgh's earth.

And, as it always tends to happen, genuine smiles turn the world upside down.

A little active innocence running around the room gets my star. Back and forth. Drops it, puts it into a hat, takes it there, brings it here... and without thinking I hear myself saying:

"Agafa-la! Que és per tu! La lluna me la va donar anit per a que hi pogueres jugar! És bonica, eh?"* But the child does not listen anymore, she is messing around with all the flyers, in the Chaplaincy corner next to the microwave.

I do not know where the star is anymore. But I learned to not be worried, to trust whatever happens. Let it be...

Anyway, some starts, even though born in the sky, wish to crash themselves into peaces, so the stardust can stick to everybody's shoes

and light up their path.

*"Take it! It's for you! The moon gave it to me yesterday so you could play with it. It's beautiful, ha?"

Ilustrations from: http://www.loretopinedo.com/

Xe, que guapa estàs!

O que templà, o que contenta que se'm veu.

Molts, per no dir tots, m'ho diuen.

És que sóc feliç, els hi dic. Edinburgh em va de meravella, una ciutat preciosa amb gent meravellosa i una carrera que, si bé aquest semestre no m'ha satisfet massa acadèmicament, té tots els números per posar-se "quite interesting" el semestre que ara comença.

I no dic cap mentida, Edinburgh m'està suposant una experiència increïble on estic aprenent molt. On les venes se m'unflen encara més per lluitar pel canvi social que molts només esperen com un tren de rodalies que es pot agafar en qualsevol moment i sense massa planificació prèvia.

Però el que no sap tota aquesta gent és que jo, ara mateix, donaria gràcies als sistemes informàtics si la meua matrícula estigués a les dades de la Universitat de València enlloc de la d'Edinburgh.

Miquel em deia ahir que tant de bo el hockey no fos una de les seues prioritats, perquè aixina podria anar-se'n sense massa problemes a seguir veient món. Jo em vaig posar a pensar en les meues prioritats, i en si aquestes em nugaven a quelcom concret.

Les meues prioritats són fer feliç a la gent i que el món menege el cul; i si bé em direu que aleshores estic caminant per la senda idònia, la veritat és que ara només tinc ganes de tornar; més ben dit: de quedar-me.

Que a mi se'm fa un somriure d'orella a orella quan pense en "The forest café", "People&Planet", malabars, i totes les altres coses en les que estic ficada.

Però si alguna cosa he d'admetre, és que a cada cosa interesant que descobrisc o que organitzem, un dels meus primers pensaments ve a ser: ui, açò estaria bé fer-ho al Casal Popular, o a Herbers a festes, o que a la uni montaren un grup aixina, o a l'Aplec, o anganxar uns quants amics i fer-ho pel carrer...

És com si m'estaguera preparant per tornar i fer mil coses per justificar la meua absència.

De vegades fa falta anar-se'n una bona temporada per saber que pot ser el millor caliu és aquell on tot va començar.

Pot ser és només el fred d'allà. Pot ser és per tindre la sensació de no haver estat amb els amics, ni la família ni amb mi mateixa tot el que em calia.

Pot ser és només una reflexió nascuda del sentir-se forània a tot arreu. Pot ser sentir-se de massa llocs a la vegada.

Pot ser són tantes coses, tantes opcions possibles i impossibles.

Però el que és cert, com deia al fotolog ahir, és que sóc feliç,

"Però no d'aquelles felicitats que depenen de les circumstàncies...

...d'aquelles que neixen de tu, com un brot salvatge de ganes de viure amb tranquil·litat, sense presses, saven que la vida és quelcom meravellós."

Aixina que no us preocupeu, que pare per on pare, seguiré sent un somriure constant sense vergonya ni por a les llàgrimes.

Anecdotario - Saga 1

Ayer por la mañana yendo hacia la biblioteca.

Candela: Él estaba mucho into deportes (spanglish)
Neus: A ver, again? (spanglish)

Ayer por la noche:

Candela: Mi cuerpo reyecta los pirsings. (spanglish)
Neus: me han dado un caramelo los perros esos que abrazan.
Candela: son como patatas... pero en plátano!
Candela: tio, tu risa es como de... te voy a mataaaarr!!
Neus: Aún se me ven los ojos??!
Candela: hay que hacer el bien. --> Neus: te ha faltado una "o"! --> Candela: sí, bieno, no te jode?
Candela: Pananas: patatas fritas de plátano.
Candela: parece un estatamento (spanglish)

Foto: ingenuas... y nos pensábamos que el 6 de septiembre hacía frío...

Mi cabeza ya se fue de vacaciones

Y con eso lo digo prácticamente todo.

Llegamos antes de las 9.30 a la biblioteca, son casi las 12.30 y lo único que he hecho ha sido perderme en el borrador del ensayo que hice hace una semana, y que tengo que entregar este martes.

Pero he re.aprendido algo.

Caminando el laberinto me he dado cuenta de que apresuro la vida, le doy apuros para intentar alcanzar exquisitos estándares de eficiencia. Sé que la vida son tres días, pero a menudo olvidamos que eso implica 259200 segundos. Y eso son muchos segundos!

Como si fuera una carrera, intento llegar a la meta con un gran diploma de hiperactividad, como para decir: mira! Todo lo que hice! Cuanto, eh?

Y no es que mi vida esté caracterizada por estrés y angustia de no poder con todo, de hecho mi vida está alcanzando el útopico adjetivo de la perfección; pero yo creo que se debe a que soy feliz con poco, cada vez con menos.

Doneu-me solet i afecte,

una cançó i món perfecte

d'eixos ben plens de tarats

nassos rojos i forats negres.

Tirorí, tirorá... =)!

M'he tornat una adicta a aquesta cançó.

M'encantaaaaaaaaaaa.

Simple felicitat.

>

And I couldn't get away from you

even if I wanted to

so I hang around

Till the leaves are brown

and the summer's gone

Creo que estoy llena de Chi por todas partes

Mientras desayunábamos, Candela y yo hemos estado hablando de la comida que nos hacía hiperfelices cuando éramos nanas.

Y, como les pasa a muchos, me ha visitado el pensamiento fugaz de "Que fácil es ser feliz, de pequeña, con cualquier cosa."

Quizás por eso (casi) siempre llevo mi gorro verde de Peter Pan. No ya por eso de no querer crecer y de intentar eludir responsabilidades, sino por eso de que todo es nuevo y excitante, todo es mágico y maravilloso... el mundo está por descubrir.

La vida es una trepidante aventura.

Y yo, una sonrisa exploradora.

Crossing oneself out

According to graphology,

if you do that when you sign, it might mean that you are not happy with yourself.

Then... was it true when I changed to my current signature?

Is it still true?

Am I carrying around the foolish pretention to be better... all the time?

Let us show our weaknesses,

otherwise people forget that behind all those smiles, there is still a person who, like any other, needs to rest some of her tears over a warm shoulder.

There is no sense in expecting people to know how you feel and what you need.

Communication.

=|

Photo: By Ruth Cape

Everybody thinks she is happy,

And they are right. She is happy.

But

in the midst of all that happiness

she also gets some tears in her cheeks,

just like any human being.

It is in those moments where she wished she could have a friend nearby to cry with. A friend to be hugged by, to be consoled even with a shared silence.

Nothing is constant, let alone a smile. You have to make it sprout again, that's the magic.

Today she has a shity day, though she certainly knows that she is happy.

But sometimes internal energy is not enough to charge one's battery

Tothom pensa que ella és feliç.

I tenen raó. Ella és feliç.

Però

entre tota eixa felicitat

a ella també li cauen algunes llàgrimes per les galtes

com qualsevol ser humà.

És en aquests moments quan ella desitja tindre un amic a la vora amb qui plorar. Un amic que l'abraçe, que la console encara que siga amb un silenci compartit.

No hi ha res constant, i encara menys un somriure. Se l'ha de fer rebrotar, eixa és la gràcia.

Ella hui té un dia de merda, tot i que sap de ben cert que és feliç.

Però de vegades l'energia interna no és suficient per recarregar la bateria.

Fundamental basic assumption

NOBODY has the right to make himself happy by making unhappy somebody else.

That's wrong!

And I know, it sounds silly and simplistic.

But today I've realized that the purpose of my career is to make people happy. And that Community Education is one means to try to do so (as it could be, for example, clowning or theatre in general).

Now the big question is HOW.

"How is the rethoric translated into reality?

How are all the good intentions interpreted, prioritized and implemented?

All of which is complicated by competing needs, conflicting interests, institutional expectations & constraints and limited resources."

(Community Education notes)

We're always ready for the show

For we were born to make the people happy

Vladimir Rozovsky