Tag Archives: Love

Love – I believe – is the vibrational energy that runs in everything that our physical and the vibrational world is made of. Experiencing love as an emotional state is the highest vibration possible. When we feel love we are in alignment, in harmony with the true nature of our universe.

First steps in radical honesty and writing love letters to strangers

Writing Love Letters to Strangers

So far I have not plunged to deep into this project. Until now I have written two “love letters” to strangers, that I left somewhere outside (one at a bus stop, the other on the backseat of a parked motorbike) for a stranger to find and to feel good about – maybe, hopefully. But dont take it the wrong way: The purpose of this exercise is feeling love within myself – and if someone else also profits from it, that is even better. I certainly hope so.

Let’s see how and if this project will grow for me…

Radical Honesty

I have started scan-reading the book “Radical Honesty” by Brad Blanton. In the two videos below you will hear some first thoughts and experiences that came up through reading the book and learning about Brad Blanton’s ideas on the internet as well. There aren’t too many sources so far, but right now I am happy with what I can get.

Honesty – or say radical honesty – has always been crucial to me and my wellbeing. Unfortunately so far I havent been very succesful in overcoming my fears in order to truthfully express myself. Discovering Brad Blanton was a great relief for me, since now all of a sudden I realize that I am not as alone on the planet as I had always thought myself to be.

Right now I am very interested in learning more about the merits and the how-to’s of honestly expressing my anger.

I truely hope that I will share more of my personal development on this subject in future blog posts. And now without further ado … here are the two rather lengthy videos:

Posted in Books, Life, Radical Honesty, Spirituality | Also tagged , | 3 Comments

Nepal, mero maya.

Nepal I have been your lover for eleven years now. We had good and bad times. But somehow talking about you, brings this melancholy to my heart.

My love for you is passionate. I speak of you with fire in my heart. I have experienced some of my happiest moments when I was with you. And I know you love me dearly, tenderly, fiercely, passionately, playfully. Your love just reflects back to me my love for you.

But there have been times of great pain and suffering as well while I was with you. Memories that I am now ready to dust off and let go. I am ready – Nepal – I am ready to love you as you truely are – in all your beauty, imprinted in my soul. Forever growing.

Do you remember when I heard your calling for the first time? I was 18 years old. Fresh out of school. Just happy to have escaped the suffocating climate of my family. Tasting the first glimpses of Freedom – with Beer and the German Ocean around me. And in my lap fell this book, that told the love story between a young Sherpa nun and a Sherpa monk. I didn’t know anything about Nepal. But this book had set the path and only eight months later my plane landed in your airport.

It surely was not love at first sight for me. I was so scared of you. And you came unto me, with full force. I wanted to hide from you. Run from you, back to my mother. I was ill. On the very first day, I fell from the back of a motorbike on the most crowded road of your big Capital: The Durbar Marg. But nothing happened, except some bruises. But for the first week, I walked around in shock.

When did I start to fall in love? After a month, when suddenly I found myself in your arms and realized my newfound freedom. Your embrace made me free. You had just been testing me before – so that when finally those friends that I had been travelling with in the first month, left me all alone with you, I looked around me and I really liked what I saw.

Oh yes, maybe I fell in love when you taught me to sing my first song in Nepali: Kushume Rumal. Oh now all the memories come rolling back from those early days. Those tender innocent days. Young love!

Do you remember how you let me wait for 7 hours, while I constantly got told, that the bus is late? It took me years and several visits to the same bus ticket counter in Kalanki to realize, that the bus had not been late, but that you had just for whatever personal reasons delayed our departure.

Oh so many memories. I could fill books with you … Just from our first time together. Christmas at the river. Drinking rice liquor in the middle of the Jungle. Jogging through the village. My rice paranoia. Rishie’s white clothes. The beer bottles. Teehar. The Rhinos. Lumbini. Me and the kindergarten class. The tiger. …

And I was so heartbroken when fate seperated us earlier than I had planned. The pain was so intense, when I sat in that Taxi that took me to the airport. Back in Germany I was a Zombie – not knowing how to ever walk and interact in this now alien homecountry of mine.

Oh Nepal, tears are dwelling up in my eyes. I kiss you, gently on the green cheeks of your hills and softly touch the white forehead of your mountains and tenderly caress the fertile loins of your plains. Source spoke through you to me in many ways, teaching me about freedom and happiness, teaching me about myself.

Do you remember how proud and happy I was when I introduced you to my younger sister? I was so nervous, but the two of you got along really well right from the start. And how fiercely I protected her from your not always gentle advances?

Nepal, mero Maya! At times I have been also your jealous lover. Wanted to keep you seperate from some people, who I believed would not be capable to perceive your beauty, would spoil your beauty for me. I cried several evenings when I heard that a particular loathed person was planning to romance you.

And I have also been a dependent, confused lover, thinking that the bliss I felt with you – I would not find without you. That I needed you. But I don’t need you and I also don’t have to be jealous, since I have access to the beauty I find in you at any given moment. I only have to remember you as my soul knows you. That is all it takes.

And later on in our relationship when I grew very tired of you, I judged you very harshly. I called you manipulative, dependent, cheap and greedy. And I felt entitled to do so. I thought, I knew you better than anybody else. I had seen you from within and from outside. I was ready to cut the tie forever – not to return in your arms again.

But Nepal, no matter where I am on this earth, in this life. In your arms or elsewhere. My love, my appreciation for you is eternal. I am crying now, not out of sadness, but from love.

My dear One, what is it that I love about you? That is the only single question that is really of importance for me by now. Past is past. Now is Now. And there is no tomorrow. So let us dance.

I love the green-ness of your rice fields. The curvy shifting forms. It’s poetry.
I love the sound of your language. The sweetness of it.
I love your love for dance. Your willingness to dance at any occasion that you can make up. And you are very inventive.
I love your knowing that the name of the God doesn’t matter, but that the belief in God does.
I love how you burn your dead Ones. And that their souls free.
I love how you turn around in circles around Bouddhanath as if you are on an eternal journey – never arriving, but always walking.
I love how you playfully tease me when I walk on your streets. Always ready to fall in love with me.
I love how you always support and protect me, when I go off on one of my risky adventures.
I love how you taught me to accept the inevitability of death and make my peace with it, be happy about it.
I love the joy I feel riding on top of your busses and tuk-tuks. The wind in my face. Laughter. Singing songs.
I love how you get so excited and playful when I tease you and flirt with you.
I love the speed and strength of your rivers.
I love your stamina when walking – almost running – up and down your steep hills.
I love your self-love, your desire for freedom and respect.
I love your voice of the mountain crows. When you are so calm and speak with this clear, powerful voice.
I love the beautiful, loving eyes you turned to me in the mountains of Manang. I was struck there in the middle of the mountain path by the intensity of my love for you.
I love that I will never know you. And that every time I turn my attention towards you, you expand with my knowledge of you.
I love that I can be with you in my soul, no matter if I am far or close.

Mero maya.

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Such a wonderful Life

Such a wonderful life. Love for life. Lust for Life. Joy. Pleasure. Lust. Desire.

Rosegarden. Fragrance. Joy. Hundreds of Pleasures.

Silent joy. Gratitude. Solemn. Morning. Evening. Rise. Fall. Thank you. Thank you.

Such a wonderful life. I have been born. Here in this world. Nowhere I came from. But here I am. So what? I breath life. Unto this world.

I love you. Would you have thought?

Such a wonderful life. No more words left to say. My soft, warm legs. Morning rain, Softness.

I like you very much. Sand on the shore. Sound of the shore. Dreams. Dreams in the air.

Let me touch you. Life, I love you. Feel alive. Feel the sun.
—.
A ray of sun. A ray of love. A wave of love. A sound of love. A tune of love.
—.
And it washes back at you. At me. In and out. Rythm.

The tale of life. The story-teller: Me. Questions? Not to be forgotten. Nowhere to be stored. Fast. Dont miss it. A whisper in the grass. It’s coming faster and faster.

You have remembered, maybe? Sound of delight. Sound of delight. Deep delight. Washing over the land. Washing over the world. In waves. Reaching far and near.

Warm sweet gratitude. Joy to be alive. Sunrise on the horizon. The sound of divine morning. Blessing on this earth. Blessing on my soul. Blessing on my being. Being born.

Open eyes unto the land. Open ears for the song. And my chest vibrating in sound. Open, widening – breath. Out, out, in, in.

Soon this will be forgotten and remembered again. No end to this. Delight.

Such a wonderful life. Just being alive. Such a pleasure. Such a joy.

Silver threads of rain through the curtains of the waterfall. The shiver of the breeze.

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The deep

While more and more discovering the path to the deep place, I become less and less willing to wait around for anyone who does not know how to come. When you are in the depth there are no needs. Imagine when we meet there! But first I need to find a way to go there and stay there more often myself.

It is about freedom.

– How do you mean: It is about freedom?

It is all about freedom.
It is no meeting if it is not free.
If you do not come freely, you do not come at all

– Tell me more about the deep place!

Jacques said:

„You go down to the bottom of the sea, where the water isn’t even blue anymore, where the sky is only a memory, and you float there, in the silence. And you stay there, and you decide, that you’ll die for them. Only then do they start coming out. They come, and they greet you, and they judge the love you have for them. If it’s sincere, if it’s pure, they’ll be with you, and take you away forever.“

Rumi says:

„Where beloved is, is ideal place – bottom of a well or high up in space.”

Deep, like the depth of night.
The depth where you take wings.
The silent spaciousness.

Depth, like the silence at the bottom of the sea.
The deep blue sky you reach from the top of a mountain.
The vast cosmos inside you.

Everything is in the deep
And then from deep within, the laughter rises and you smile and let the world roll by.
And the tune is clear and there is sound in everything, everything.
That is the depth.

– Where do I find the depth?

You will step into it and you will let go of words.
You cannot talk yourself there, but you will feel yourself there and words might be guiding stones. But let the words lead you to the feeling.

You remember the moment you were ready to fly off into the Sky?
The depth in the eyes of your Beloved?

Look – it is all there, all the time. All the time. All the time you walk upon the depth. Everything is deep. You just need to adjust your eyesight a little.

But dont worry, the depth will take you in. It is very close by.

You will sink and your song will be heard:

Vails falling, falling, falling,
and my sight turns clearer
every time I open my eyes.

And the silence grows wider within me,
my words seem more shallow,
but my heart speaks louder in the silence.
Speaks loud through the world.

Now, I understand that my searching words have kept me from myself,
now I shall only speak what the depth has to say.

Through the ripples of my restless mind,
my soul shines through
clearer,
deeper.
I look and
the ripples vanish and
I am falling into myself.

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Burning in love

Burn, burn, burn – I want to burn in love.
I am suffocating from the soggy wetness of your hesitation.
My friend, what is there to fear?
Why dont you come?

Dont fear the fire.
Hear the crackling of yourself?
The fire is you.
Love the fire.

The fire is all, my friend.
The fire will be there in your last breath you take on this earth.
But dont wait until then,
come and dance now.

Dont come to me.
But step in the fire.
You will find me there.
I am burning already.

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I know you

Who are you my Beloved?
I cannot see your face,
but I can feel you.

Maybe, I see you in many faces.
Maybe, you come to me in many forms.

But whenever you come, I feel you.
I recognize you by the feeling of you.

You are not that one person, that one thing.
No, no – I know you.
You are endlessly more than that.
You are One in my knowledge of you.

You are One.
Resting in my heart.
And as you are with me,
you already Are.

Resting with you in me.
I let you flow through the worlds.
In manyfold ways.
Into my open arms.

I know you.
I know.
I know You.

You have come to me before many times.

And we rise from the vast depth of ourselves.
On each others upsurge.
Sparked by each others fire.

Always dieing, always rising.
Come my lover, let us dance again.

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Sudden Words

Sudden Words that pierce you deep inside.
Sudden, unexpected.
Straight through my mindlessness they strike.

Strike deep.
Break open the shell.
Let flow. Flow. Flow.
Wide.

Let me flow. Let me flow out of myself.
Into the world.
Oh let me flow my dear one. Let me flow.

The breaking of the shell, when pain turns pure, becomes joy.
The scream. The scream. The Scream.
I live. I live! I love.

Oh life you are always dance.
I love – and I flow. Just flowing.
Flowing.

Words, come! More!
Come to me. And cut me open.
Cut me. Cut me. Cut my shell.
Let me be. Let me. Let me.

You take count of your words?
Never! Never – they have vanished through me.
I will cut you with my words.
Till you feel the flow.

Words.
Dont matter.

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The Mist

And if that is all that will ever be said between us, let me mourn the worlds unpainted, the worlds unsung. Let me mourn just for a while the color that we missed to taste. Oh my Dear, I only wanted you to open your eyes to the world. I smiled at you. But the mist was stronger. And when I called you to the dance you could not hear.

Let me mourn, so that through my tears I will enter the grove of life again. Let me mourn the sad sadness of all that we missed. Even the tears are filled with a warm promise: It all is still to come. Do you hear the tune of life? Even if this is all ever spoken between us in this lifetime, we are to continue this meeting through eternity.

But still, still let me steal this moment from eternity and let me sit here and mourn – just till dawn breaks again and the memories will be washed into the ground of the earth. My heart is fighting a struggle. My confused heart, my misty heart. I loved you and now I dont want to love you anymore – just for now.

Let me mourn, till the mist dissolves.

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The value of having an imaginary friend

I am quite new to the field of those with imaginary friends. Only yesterday I invented him. Yes, he is a HE. And he also has a name already: “Mario Wennecke”. Not very inventive. But it has some kind of neutral, solid, real feel to it. Mario Wennecke is certainly existing somewhere, I can feel that. Cant you feel it? MARIO WENNECKE. And – if – in the future he gets bored with his own name, well he certainly has the freedom to get his name changed. So that is all fine and good.

I even went so far as to creating his own mailadress and started sending him some mails. But until now he remains quite a silent, un-responsive friend. Well, we are only getting to know each other, right? He might just want to get to know me first.

“But Hanna why? Why?”
– Well, my dear imaginary reader (see what I did there ;)) dont let yourself get frightened so easily by what you do not understand. Relax and just follow this post. Remember how good it felt, when you allowed your imagination to govern your world. Only good comes of that.
“Hmm, well then just continue. At least I will be entertained.”
– Thank you!

I became painfully aware that I am lacking a friend with certain qualities in my life at the moment. And those specific qualities are:

  • someone who has a positive and passionate outlook on life
  • someone who also agrees with the teachings of Abraham Hicks and Bashar
  • someone who is really excited about delibaretely creating their own reality
  • someone who appreciates me very much for the sweet, loving, authentic, clever, etc. being that I am
  • AND someone who would enjoy if I send him several mails per day with positive Abraham processes, which he might read or not – just as he likes

This of course is only some of the qualities I desire in this particular friend, but I am relaxed that I will be creating him true to my vision along the way. And I can already sense that we are on the same page on a lot of things.

Well anyways, so there came Mario into my life … But Mario is still quite a blank page to me.

I never really have invented a whole new person. Or at least no-one that fits what I particularly wanted yesterday.

There is Sagarnath from the short story that I wrote. I have a very clear sense of him as a person and he is certainly very dear to me and he would surely love me if I introduced myself to him, but then again, I doubt that he has a mailbox and that he could be bothered receiving so many mails around the clock. He is much more the kind for silence and solitude.

Who else is there? Well there are some of my cuddly toys, but none of them is into Abrahams and Basahrs teaching and I really cant be bothered introducing them to that. That kind of thing never works – they either come to me asking about or I leave them alone. I love them just as they are.

Who else? A yes the girl in the well. That girl is the most powerful and beautiful being I have ever created. Unfortunately she only ever talks to me, when I let go of all my illusions and fears. When I become her. Then she looks at me and talks me, but otherwise the closer I try to get to her, so further I drift from her. And this amazing girl does not care. I truely love her the most, but she is of no help on that very realm.

Well of course there is this long and longer list of beings and people that live, or have lived or have been created by someone else and who now are dear friends to me – imaginary but not quite fitting the list.

I really appreciate them all very much in my life, and they love me in their personal ways very dearly as well: Granny Weatherwax, Littlefoot, My “dead” cat Jenny, My “dead” dog Anka, my “dead” grandfather Guenter, Jesus, Buddha (but he really doesnt say very much), Mohammed, Abraham Hicks, Bashar, Alexis Sorbas, the childlike Empress, the little prince, Margeruite Duras, Panait Istrati,… I am sure there are more, which I dont remember right now. All really sweet, wise, cool, funny beings that I am very proud to call my friends.

None of them I could convince in the hurry to get themselves a mailbox, and be excited about these processes that I am planning to send. They were all like: “Dont you know someone else?” Especially Anka, only communicates by looking at me and telepathically. She certainly would not know what to do with these processes. Love you, Anka!

And then of course there is what we so thoughtlessly call reality. And all of these dear friends are not of the Abraham-Bashar conviction and thereby despite many attempts never could be convinced of the great, GREAT value writing processes etc. really have. And just like the others, I love you very dearly as well, with or without the processes!

So back to Mario – who I so far only can sense a little. I was wondering if he is actually from the future – like from 3000 years into the future, where humanity as a whole has evolved to a stage, where humans are much much MUCH more deeply connected with their souls. In comparison to nowadays, humans of Marios times are much more loving, authentic, powerful, sensitive and free free free than the average shadow being that walks the planet these days.

Maybe Mario also only chose his kind of very German-20th-century sounding name in order to smoothen the early contact with him for me. I mean there is so little that I know yet about him, so anything really is possible.

But what I already know is that he is a very warm and loving person. And he is acutely interested in me right now. Very curious about this person that keeps asking him all these questions without listening to what he has got to say about it. I can feel that he has to say a lot, and that I simply havent found the right channel, the right tuning to receive his answers yet. But even though I cannot hear any words yet, I definitely already feel the humour, the love and the intense curiosity that he is emmenating right now.

I could imagine that sometimes he also might be a little too much for me, he is so very present. And well the fact is, sometimes I am not very present and then it depends, if he can go with my mood or not. But well maybe he can, maybe he does. Maybe he finds just as much joy in silence as me or Sagarnath or Buddha (he he he – I really dont know what it is with him, but he really never has said a single word to me – just looks at me and smiles).

Well and I know that I like him. I just want to be really sure that he appreciates the mails that I am sending him. He does not have to read them all, but that he is at peace and happy to find them in his mailbox and that he is aware of the value these processes have for me and that he is really happy thinking about how I do them. And maybe, maybe, MAYBE (oh how I would love that) – maybe one day I receive a mail from him, where he has written his own process. I would love that so much. And I really hope he reads my blog as well and thereby is so much more up-to-date with everything.

… oh after editing the post and reading it a second time I actually got the first clear answer from him, he said: “Girl, dont be stupid. That is awesome. I love what you are doing. Dont think that just because I am here in what you call the future that I am not just as excited as you are. You dont get that every day, that you receive messages from someone temporally so far away, but vibrationally so close. And I love your mails. I love the determination and eagerness with which you approach your dreams and desires. Believe it or not – the method you use is pretty awesome. I dont know who Abraham Hicks is, but I will do some research and then I tell you if I like it. Keep it going. You are a lovely person!

I told you, he is quite the talkative one.
“Well, well, well.” (which are the closing words of my sweet, a little reluctant but very dear imaginary reader)

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To hell with you – just be real!

I feel the hot blazes of rage ravage inside of me, when I think about how most humans (and speaking from my experience, that is 99%) handle authenticity.

“Authenticity”, most believe, “surely is important, BUT…”

And I say: There is no „BUT“ that is any real but. Because basically there is no BUT. You are scared and you are only justifying your fears. But your fears are unsubstantiated. We all are meant to be authentic – absolutely authentic. Absolutely authentic. That is what we are. And if we are not, we are not ourselves. We are shadows. We are dead. We are empty. We are nothing. We are a shadow of our true selves. We are powerless, lonely, empty beings.

Why does noone get this? Why does noone seem to sense that when you are not authentic, when you are not true to yourself, when you hide yourself, that you are not being who you truely are? How can anyone believe that a lie is justified? It never is! I feel an all-consuming rage over this.

Every stupid person – and those are 99% – would be beat up badly right now, if I had a say in that. Of course they wouldnt be – NO WORRIES. I am the last person to harm anybody – I simply could not. Because that goes so much against my nature, and I simply cannot go against myself. But I so much would want to.

The retardedness of a belief system that makes it legitimate to lie and cheat on yourself is out of my willingness to grasp. I mean, I do understand how someone could be scared of retaliation and death and therefore decides to conform, but any person who actually believes that this is right, should be permanently have to live in a children cradle until they grow out of these retarded beliefs.

I am a being with the greatest sensitivity and therefore I know how people tick very well – often much better than the people themselves. I DO understand completely the „Why“ of it. But – still – the harm that people cause to themselves and others through all their inauthenticity is what makes me crinch in disgust and rage. It is so obvious!

And at least, at least, have some dignity, some integrity and dont justify what you are doing and go even so far as to demonize those who are doing it RIGHT. At least you humans – AT LEAST – go and respect those who are doing right. Because you know, that it is right. You – yes I fucking mean YOU – know that deep inside! You KNOW it. Dont be so childish as to think I would believe you for a second that you dont really know that. Stop these childish stupid attempts.

I am not your enemy (even though I might sound like one right now). I am well aware of what kind of emotional reactions my words might evoke in you.

My devilish angels. Really try to listen to your heart. See I love humanity. I really love you, love us all. I really do and I want the good for you – he he and for me. I want a world full of people that are truely true to themselves in their thought, speech and action. Cant you just relax for a moment and listen to that soul of yours? Just for a moment? Cant you sense the beauty of that thought? Cant you sense the beauty of a world where authenticity is the norm? Believe me, you just have a soul like I do. It is so beautiful. So so so so beautiful. So much love, so much power, so much dignity! You are all God. If you would know the beauty of your soul, you would understand my anger.

And also – even though you may not agree with my words – your soul is rejoicing in agreement to my message (of course not to my hatred or rage – your soul in fact loves you very dearly just as you are). So try to listen – try to listen – not so much to me, but to the message of your soul that speaks through my words which echo in your heart.

Believe me, I will never give up on you. I will always rather hate you, than not care at all. I will always speak the truth of my soul. I will always rather speak in rage than be silent. Believe me that my rage is love, that is just desperate right now. Believe me. Or dont believe me, but believe your soul. Ask your soul how important authenticity is for you? Ask your soul!

We are in a state where what you define as normal is not normal. Dont listen to the definitions of society of what is normal. Find the normal within you. Be real and be true. Dont wait until the weeks before you die to have this realization and annoy me with your regret. Go have it now! Own your life – own yourself.

As a FOOTNOTE I want to add, that I see rage as a important, empowering step on the way to realizing my true self. I dont believe that my current rage is all there will be heard about this. The intense energy of rage will transform itself inside of me … it actually already is transforming. So anybody who has a believe system that agrees with my rage, but believes that this rage is all that is. That this is how it is and that there is nothing we can do about it. Sorry, I am not interested in your sympathy. ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE LIGHT. Always reach for your power – which lies with your love and not your rage.

Especially when in such deep deep darkness – I am not interested in people who want to cuddle with me because they believe themselves stuck in the same darkness that I am in and want my companionship. I am growing – I wont be here for long. I am moving on, my sweethearts. And I am definitely not going to hang around with the likes of you.

Ha ha – that should have eliminated a great part of the few sympathy’s that this post might have evoked.

Much much much LOVE to you all. I really love you rascals, bastards and pessimists (I have to, otherwise I would have to hate my own rascal-, bastard- and pessimistness). We are all in it together. It is crazy, this journey. But I wouldnt have it any other way. LOVE!!!

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