Monthly Archives: May 2015

A sunny day.

I was walking to the market with limited liquidity and a short list of groceries to buy: aubergine, squash, lettuce and olives imperatively – fruit optionally.

I was leisurely reaching my destination and somehow, the new testament phrase on offering the other cheek, popped up in my thoughts. Specifically, I was pondering my interpretation of it, namely not letting one’s peace of mind be challenged by another person’s bad mood, or foul intentions.

The zen Buddhism meets Christianity-like paradox of the slapped cheek and unslapped spirit had just ebbed out of  my consciousness as I made a stop at a fruit stall. I put a batch of bananas on the scales in front of me to check the weight, make a mental note of the price and return later on, once I had purchased the more vital items on my list.

The fruit-vendor was perplexed when I explained that for the moment, I just wanted to weigh the bananas, not buy them; he was obnoxious and impolite. I reacted to his customer-unfriendly manners and reciprocated by raising my voice. I would quite gladly have thrown unripe tomatoes at him, while adorning him with a garland of Neapolitan pejoratives, but a) I do not master the street talk of Naples and b) I believe in peace (bitch!).

Eventually, I turned my back on him with burning cheeks and tears clogging up my throat as they quite dumbly tend to do when I am really upset – wow, I can’t really recall the last time  that happened. I found consolation in the salty tender flesh of a green olive that the seller at the Greek produce stand prompted me to try, allowing me to make an informed decision and regain my zenitude.

In the end, things turned out for the best: not only did I find organic, fair-trade bananas at an equally good price; I also managed to successfully accomplish my shopping mission.

A simple lunch, a power nap and a yoga session later, I was once again roaming the streets in the bright day. A tall African man stopped me to sell a story book. I had no more money on me, and was quite frankly not interested in story books.  He clarified that any amount I could spare would do, but unfortunately, I was still as short of cash as before.

Madam, you have nothing but your beauty then…,” he complimented me. There and then I was promoted from a bizarre banana woman to a fair lady.

There is obviously enough room for both slaps and pats under the sun.


05.00 Mini muesli breakfast

In between nap.

07.15 Two dates and a small piece of dark chocolate

FriskisSvettis07.45 Checking in to the gym for a good hour of functional training: the rowing machine; DAP; pilates and bosu ball; weights. Discovering new fun rituals.


Some time ago, a head of state declared that digging the soil is against the delicate nature of women.

Funnily enough, 43% of the agricultural labour force in developing countries are women; totally ignorant of the above professed truth, they sow, harvest and toil to win their daily bread; they use ploughs, shovels and machetes, because quite obviously baby wipes, brooms and dust-feathers do not suffice to feed hungry children.

Feet and daisies

Somewhere in the developed world, I am making my debut in urban gardening. The initial hint of resistance to the unknown effort ahead was quickly dissipated.

My city-dweller body is figuring out ergonomic motion patterns to adapt to the new tasks: digging, shoveling, weeding, raising vegetable beds…Now and then I pause to give myself a good stretch and look up to the sky. I discover that digging the soil is quite addictive.





So far, not a single seed has touched the ground, but what precedes the planting is a project in itself. I am just enjoying the process. Harvest can wait.

April 30 2015. Valborg. Formerly a pagan feast strategically situated between the Spring Equinox and the Summer Solstice, Valborg was originally a celebration of fertility, light and the renewal of nature. Later on it was dedicated to the cult of a German saint  and the warding off of witchcraft and evil spirits.

Quite typical of  traditions to try to prevail over each other in the gray-zone between sympathetic folklore and mindless collective compulsion. Only to realise of course, that they can never get totally rid of the predecessors’ creative imprint. The magic of Open Source…

Swedish Valborg is nowadays a sweet-child of  academia. That is why the streets and parks of the oldest University town of  Scandinavia are inundated by hoards of fun-loving students waving good-bye to silly superstitions, flirting with spring, rain or shine, leaving behind them unmistakable trails of liter.  forsranning



On the very periphery of the student celebrations, my long weekend was mainly spent on a yoga mat, on board of trains and walking to and from the train station via an already familiar route passing through the very heart of Stockholm.


And although I had every good intention to catch the evening bonfire, the biting cold and the long day of commuting and yogic postures took its toll. Instead, I witnessed the smoking leftover ashes as I walked to the train station on the first of May. Something is better than nothing.




Clockwise, otherwise & likewise

The Chick on a Pea

Clockwise, otherwise & likewise

Sadness Theory

Music with passion for the environment

zee pause café

taking a moment, having a coffee, writing down some thoughts