Letzte Woche habe ich euch davon erzählt, dass ich meine Bachelorarbeit geschrieben habe und wie es mir davor/dabei ergangen ist. Beim Fertigstellen habe ich mit dem Gedanken gespielt, eine Danksagung mit in meine Arbeit einzubauen, mich aber dann dagegen entschieden, da ich nicht gefunden habe, dass die Art von Danke-sagen, die ich gerne machen würde, so gut in den wissenschaftlichen Schreibstil passt. Deshalb habe ich mir gedacht, wenn nicht am Blog veröffentlichen, wo dann? Überhaupt habe ich überlegt, daraus eine ganze Reihe an Danksagungen zu machen. An alles und jeden. Ich finde es gehört sowieso viel öfter einmal „Danke“ gesagt.
Hier die Danksagung, die in meine Bachelorarbeit hineingehört hätte.
„Zuerst mal Danke an meine Eltern, wenn ihr euch damals nicht so liebgehabt hättet, dann wäre dieser ganze Spaß hier sowieso hinfällig. Danke an alle Lehrer, die ich in meiner schulischen Laufbahn genießen durfte, an die die ich mochte und nicht mochte, an die von denen ich viel und die, von denen ich wenig gelernt habe. Vor allem aber an die, die ich am wenigsten mochte, aber von denen ich am meisten gelernt habe. Danke an das Timing, dass dazu geführt hat, dass ich den Sommer vor meinem Studienbeginn in Amerika war und deshalb Kommunikationswissenschaft und nicht Psychologie studiert habe. An dieser Stelle auch Danke an meine Familie, dafür, dass ich immer frei entscheiden konnte, was ich machen möchte. Danke an meine Ungeduld, die mich Dinge entweder ganz oder gar nicht und entweder sofort oder nie erledigen lässt, durch sie habe eine sehr effiziente Lernstrategie entwickelt. Danke an die Phase, in der ich mich und die Welt gar nicht gemocht habe und durch die ich die ersten zwei Semester meines Studiums extrem schnell und ohne viel nach links oder rechts schauen durchgezogen habe. Auch bei der netten Idee der Gruppenarbeiten muss ich mich bedanken, durch die ich gelernt habe, dass man Dinge am besten selbst erledigt. Danke an die Professoren, die wissen, dass der Unialltag und das wissenschaftliche Forschen nur ein ganz klitzekleiner, manchmal gar nicht so wichtiger Teil des Lebens sind. Danke an meinen Computer, der unzählige, hin und wieder nicht sehr sanfte, Tastenschläge mitgemacht hat und wahrscheinlich eine Geschichte über fettige Haaren in messy buns und bröselige Chips-Finger erzählen könnte. Danke an die Menschen in meinem Leben, denen ein akademischer Grad äußerst wichtig ist und denen, die finden es sei nicht notwendig – die Mischung machts, das habe ich durch euch gelernt. Ganz besonders bedanken muss ich mich bei meinem Gehirn, auf das ich mich jeden Tag aufs Neue verlassen kann, was wirklich nicht selbstverständlich ist (besonders wenn man bedenkt, wie viele Leute ihres so ganz und gar nicht benutzen). Nun aber in all seriousness: Danke an das Universum, auch wenn ich noch absolut keine Ahnung habe, was ich mit diesem Bachelortitel jetzt anfangen soll, es wird sich zeigen. Danke.“
Wem hast du heute schon Danke gesagt?
Schnell, geh und tu’s!
Also ich muss schon sagen, manchmal macht man es sich selbst schwerer als es sein muss. Seit eineinhalb Monaten setze ich mich schon unter enormen Druck, diese Abschlussarbeit meines Studiums fertig zu bekommen. Mein Anspruch war nicht einmal der, etwas besonders Tolles zu schreiben, nein. Alles was ich wollte, war fertig zu werden. Diesen riesigen Punkt von meiner To Do Liste abzuhaken. Es ist auch nicht so, als wäre das das erste Mal, dass ich wissenschaftlich Schreiben musste, oder dass ich mir besonders schwer dabei tue, Texte zu verfassen. Ich meine, ich habe einen Blog, Schreiben sollte da schon zu den Dingen zählen, die man gerne tut. Ich denke meine größte Herausforderung war das „müssen“. Ich musste mich an einen bestimmten Schreibstil halten, durfte nur bestimmte Quellen verwenden, hatte ein Abgabedatum und jemand anderes wird entscheiden, ob das, was ich verfasst habe als gut oder schlecht befunden wird. Alles Aspekte, die für eine Anti-Autoritätsliebenden Menschen wie mich nicht ganz easy sind.
Seitdem mein Thema festgestanden ist und ich jederzeit mit der Recherche und dem Schreiben beginnen konnte, war ich unter Druck. Egal was ich getan habe, in meinem Kopf war diese extrem anstrengende Stimme, die mich immer wieder daran erinnert hat, was ich eigentlich gerade tun sollte. Ich konnte nichts genießen, es hat sich so angefühlt, als wäre mein Kopf ständig voll, selbst wenn ich mir bewusst Zeit freigeschaufelt habe. Immer und immer wieder habe ich mich gefragt, wann ich jemals mit dieser Arbeit fertig werden soll. Woher ich die Zeit nehmen soll und überhaupt wie ich das eigentlich machen soll. Ich habe mir gedacht: „Hätte ich nur eine Woche, in der ich mich in Ruhe hinsetzen kann um das abzuschließen“. Immer wieder ist mir dieser Gedanke durch den Kopf gekreist, bis mir dann vor zirka zwei Wochen die glorreiche Idee gekommen ist, mir diese Woche einfach zu nehmen. Kennt ihr das, wenn man den Wald vor lauter Bäumen nicht mehr sieht? Genau so habe ich mich gefühlt. Als hätte ich ein Stück Abstand genommen und plötzlich alles klarer gesehen. Alle Termine, Yogakurse und soziale Interaktionen sind abgesagt worden und ich habe jedem gesagt, dass ich mich für sieben Tage einsperren werde und mich erst melde, sobald ich fertig bin. Mein Zimmer wird nur verlassen, wenn ich am Verhungern bin oder dringend aufs stille Örtchen muss. Ein Plan war geschmiedet.
Letzte Woche habe ich die ganze Vorarbeit von Transkriptionen der Interviews, über ausführliche Recherche, bis hin zur Literaturbeschaffung gemacht, sodass ich wirklich „nur noch“ schreiben musste. Da das Wochenende früher zu Ende war als geplant, habe ich bereits am Sonntagnachmittag meine Mission begonnen und war hochmotiviert dieses Kapitel abzuschließen – im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes. Drei Tage später, am Mittwochnachmittag, habe ich dann das letzte Wort meiner Bachelorarbeit geschrieben. Crazy. Sobald ich damit angefangen hatte, verging alles wie im Flug. Ich war im absoluten Schreib-flow und konnte gar nicht glauben, wie schnell die Zeichenanzahl nach oben gerattert ist. Es ist so schnell gegangen, dass ich die Arbeit sogar am ersten Abgabetermin einreichen werde – say what?!
Durch das ewige vor mir herschieben und Gedanken machen und Stress aufbauen, ist der Berg dieser Arbeit so groß geworden, dass ich überhaupt nicht mehr gewusst habe, wie ich ihn erklimmen soll. Und das alles nur wegen diesem kleinen Wörtchen „muss“.
Eines meiner Lieblingszitate ist folgendes von Julia Engelmann:
„Lass uns Dinge tun, weil wir können und nicht müssen!“
Ganz im Sinne dessen, bin ich nun sogar am Überlegen, das Masterstudium auch noch dranzuhängen. Einfach weil ich kann. Am Ende des Tages haben wir immer die Wahl. Nicht nur die Wahl, wie wir mit den Dingen umgehen, sondern auch die Wahl der Dinge selbst. Wir selbst entscheiden, was wir „müssen“, weil wir können.
Macht mit euch selbst ein kleines Experiment: Tauscht in jedem Satz, den ihr sprecht oder denkt das Wort „muss“ mit „kann“ aus und schaut einfach mal was passiert.
Heute können wir müssen.
This morning I was on my way to a business yoga class and while I was in a good mood, my thoughts were still going a thousand miles per hour. I thought about my sequence for the class, what I was gonna wear tonight, all the thing I had to do before I could start the weekend and just life in general (as you do, while driving a car). Then I drove onto the highway and had one of those reality-check-moments. I immediately took out my phone and started to record this voice note for myself:
“I love not having my shit together. I right now saw this girl driving in her mini cooper on the highway and both of her windows are rolled down, her hair is in a very messy bun and it’s curled and like, everywhere. She wears these huge sunglasses, no makeup, you can see some of her blemishes and the redness of her skin. Like, nothing about this moment seems perfect and then the radio is really loud and she’s singing and laughing and she’s kinda like dancing in her driver’s seat. It made me think that she seems like she doesn’t have her shit together at all and it got me thinking how I got rid of all my expectations and my perfectionism and everything and now I’m in this phase where everything seems to not go as planned and everything seems to be so much and I have so much, like so much to do, I don’t even know where to begin, but then.. I see this girl and she’s living her life. And she’s like, she made me smile. Right now. I’m smiling like, from one cheek to the other. This moment of watching her gave me life. I remember what I want and what I wanna feel and how I wanna live my life. I don’t want to have my shit together. I don’t want a perfect life. I want a real life. And I want a fun life. And something that I’m proud of and something that’s mine. Like, the crazy, messy, imperfect Pari. Not the polished, makeup, perfect clothes, everything in order kind of Pari. I wanna be me. I wanna be the raw me. And I like not having my shit together. I feel so free right now, realizing how much I like not having my shit together. God, I love life. I never wanna lose this feeling alive. You feel most alive when not everything goes to plan and not everything is perfect and I’m just so glad that I saw this girl, in her mini cooper, windows rolled down, messy bun, huge sunglasses, no makeup, I’m so glad I saw her. And for a split second she looked over and I smiled and she kinda smiled and it’s like… This is such a great moment. I love it. I’m so glad, I’m so grateful for this moment, that I got to watch this girl have fun and remind me to just have fun. God, life is about having fun, not making everything perfect. Not getting everything right. Life is about having fun. Enjoying the ride. My reminder of the day is: Be imperfect. Don’t have your shit together. Roll your windows down. Throw your hair in a messy bun. Put on huge sunglasses and sing. Shout from the top of your lungs, to your favorite song, while driving somewhere.”
What a beautiful impact such a small moment can have.
This shit just cannot be forced. You cannot just light a candle and wait for magic to happen.
Great start to a blogpost Pari, let’s try again.
I just finished writing another post and after being done with it, I felt so happy. It turned out good, I’m proud of myself for finding the right words for what I want to say. I also felt relieved and that got me thinking – Why is it, that I stress out about writing the blogposts? I enjoy doing it so much, but I also put the pressure on myself to publish an amazing, ground-breaking post every single week. This is especially hard for me during busy weeks.
Leading back to where I started from: Creativity can’t be forced. Every person that’s creatively active will be able to relate to this. You can’t just sit down at 7am, think real hard and boom – the words flow out of your mind, the song writes itself or the painting is done before you know it. As cool as that sounds. It just doesn’t work like that.
Creativity needs freedom. Mostly freedom of the mind. If you keep thinking about all the things you have to get done and all the places you have to be at, you won’t be able to hear those quiet, whispering noises, telling you the secrets of your own thoughts. You won’t be able to sense the slow winds, as they pass through the grass and almost sound like the laughter of a butterfly. If everything gets too loud, we’re not able to hear. We’re missing out on the most beautiful, fragile, precious things. Most and for all, our creativity. She needs a loving space. She needs our full attentions, without any pressure. Creativity is not easy, though it comes with ease.
What a beautiful mirror for life in general. Everything has it’s time. Things happen as they should. There is a perfect moment for everything, but not every moment is perfect for anything.
Listen to what timing has to tell you.
Hear the butterflies laugh.
„Yoga is the journey
of the self,
through the self,
to the self.“
– The Bhagavad Gita
Okay now, but what does that mean?
It’s about getting to know yourself, through different practices and techniques.
It’s never about anyone else, always just about yourself.
If you ever think it’s about something exterior, it’s really just trying to teach you something about your interior.
Yoga is a cat, a dog, a crow, a tree, an eagle and also just laying on the floor (they call it savasana). These are all names of poses. Movements you do, while linking them to your breath. Odd shapes, that are meant to make your body flexible and strong, in order to be healthy. The funny sequences make your mind flexible too, so you can adapt to new situations better.
This is the yoga that most people think about, when they wonder what yoga is.
But actually… Yoga is – so. much. more.
Yoga is choosing the no-animal option at dinner once.
Yoga is taking a deep breath before saying something in an argument.
Yoga is leaving work early, to watch your favorite show on TV.
Yoga is turning your phone off during a walk in nature.
Yoga is getting up in the morning, even though you don’t want to.
Yoga is knowing, that the rudeness of other people is just wounds that need healing.
Yoga is trusting your instinct, when the world has a totally different opinion.
Yoga is smiling at the grumpy person on the bus.
Yoga is not barking at the person you dislike.
Yoga is the feeling of the first ray of sunshine after weeks of rain.
Yoga is counting your blessings.
Yoga is sitting in silence.
Yoga is speaking up.
Yoga is for everyone.
Yoga is everything that’s done out of the pureness of one’s heart.
Yoga is getting to know yourself. Healing the wounds that need healing. Nurturing the seeds that are willing to grow. It’s spreading love. And light.
So, what is yoga?
Yoga is what you make it. Yoga is freedom. Yoga is life.
it‘s like being an alcoholic.
you get the booze,
enjoy the ride,
then you wake up,
the hangover echos,
you swear to never drink again.
it lingers until noon,
when you leave the house,
to face the world.
you come back to life,
as time passes,
the day goes by,
you get thirsty again,
the craving creeps up on you.
just one zip,
you promise yourself.
an hour later,
it has you back.
drunk on love.
– journal entry from March 21st 2019
Time flies. I still remember, when I saw those cute puppy eyes in that Facebook post for the very first time. Immediate love. I adopted her six months ago now and it still feels like we’re getting to know each other. Every day there is a new thing she does or a different noise I recognize or another quirky habit she establishes. Let me start with the basics.
Roya is now 10,5 months old and has been in my life for six months and three days (not that I’m counting). She weighs 21kg and has a shoulder height of about 52cm.
She is still a rather anxious dog, but I’ve come to terms with the fact, that she might stay like this forever. This personality trait also allows me to take her with me everywhere I go, which is exactly what I wanted. She is the most well-behaved puppy during my yoga classes. I literally couldn’t wish for a better version of her. All she does is lay on her little blanket, watching me teach, while she slowly dozes off.
Her biggest fear are strangers – especially men – and driving a car. I try to be cautious with her in these situations, but also try to confront her with them gently, in order to show her, that whatever she might have experienced before, is not going to happen again.
Speaking of gently, another important topic to mention here is dog training. Roya and I did a 10 part program, that we started right after I adopted her. I chose this particular dog school, because I had heard good things about them, from a person I know. Looking back, I should have done more research. Now, I’m not trying to say, that everything they told me was bad, I just want to state, that their approach is not for me/us. I finished the whole course, mainly because I had paid for it already and I am glad, that I had someone outside of my family to turn to for advice regarding the puppy training, but if I’m being very honest, my gut feeling wasn’t the best from the start. Logically speaking, for an anxious dog, a very dominant way of training isn’t the best idea. Especially if the owner isn’t a very dominant, pushy person herself. Again, I am thankful for everything I’ve learned in that process, but I’ve now decided to go with what feels right in my heart, when it comes to raising Roya. She needs a steady, loving lead and I am overly happy to be that for her.
Onto the hilariously adorable things she does. Every time someone prepared her food, she will stand behind that person and poke her/him in the butt. On very exciting days, she even makes her way in-between the two butt cheeks of that said person.
When I go on walks with her, she spontaneously decides to turn on her crazy mode and run in circles or zigzag around me for approximately 5 minutes until she is totally exhausted.
If you belong to the few people she trusts, she will jump onto your lap as soon as you sit down at the kitchen table. The special part about this is, that she will only hop on with her two front feet and then scratch your leg with one of her back feet until you decide to pick her up, so she can lay on your laps completely.
She still sleeps in my bed (probably will forever) and besides little misunderstanding of her thinking the bed, pillows and blanket all actually belong to her, not me, she crawls as close to me as possible, the second she realizes I’m awake in the morning. She moves like a little caterpillar until her face is right next to mine and we start our cuddle session.
Last but not least, her nickname is “Gummi-Hund” because her joints are so flexible, it sometimes looks like she’s made out of rubber.
As I’ve addressed at the beginning of this post: I’m still getting to know this baby and she is still getting to know me. It’s the funniest, most exhausting journey ever – I wouldn’t change it for a thing. She makes me realize so many things about myself, positive and, well, not so positive ones. She makes me overcome my laziness and gives me so much love, words couldn’t describe.
All that’s left to say now is:
Thank you, universe, for sending me this soul. She is what I needed.
Pari and Roya
What a week.
We all have those, right? Those weeks, those days, maybe even those months, where everything seems to be so difficult. I’ve had one of those, or should I rather say: I’m having one of those. So many things happened, that I needed time to process. On top of that, I had to make a decision, that seems like one of the „super huge, life changing“-decisions. Man, freaking out is so easy sometimes. Letting your mind get foggy is so easy sometimes. Feeling the urge to crawl under a rock and never face reality ever again, is way too easy sometimes. This is what I’ve felt like this past week.
Then with all the mental debating, doubts come up. About pretty much everything. I fall back into old habits, old thinking patterns and would rather work a 9-5 job, dress in black and white, never open up my heart, blend in with everyone else and just never take a risk anymore.
Life is easy, when you’re playing it safe. You always know what to expect, no surprises, no fears. But also, no excitement and no miracles. Is „easy“ really the end-goal? Easy isn’t beauty-ful, easy isn’t wonder-ful, easy is just that – easy.
On the good days, I don’t eve think about easy. I take the risks and deal with whatever comes up, I’ve learned to push the belittling voice inside my head aside.
On the not so good days, I’m so scared. Fear is the most negative emotion. I know, shocker, it’s not hate. The root of hate is always fear. Those days, I feel overwhelmed by what could happen and end up not wanting to do anything, being too afraid of all the worst-case-scenarios.
This week, being „one of those weeks“, I felt more fear than I have in a long time. Not to say it isn’t a valid, legit emotion, that just came up irrationally – no, it popped up for a reason. Everything is always a lesson. This weeks my lesson is:
Act out of love, not fear.
Love can be scary. Love can be overwhelming. Love can be difficult. But it doesn’t have to be. For me, holding onto the „what ifs“ never ends well. Take the jump. Don’t count to three and kick start the thinking-train. Just dare to do it, straight away.
Truth be told: I’m still shitting my pants about the decision I had to make. But I consciously chose to choose love. And for that, I’m hella proud of myself.
The funny thing is, this week I focused on heart-opening-poses in my yoga classes. How’s that for synchronicity?
I’ve always believed in it.
But only now, that I’ve experienced it first hand, I can truly say: it’s pure magic, this universe.
How every second of the day plays out in favor of that one moment.
From when your alarm goes off in the morning, to when you get out of bed and the amount of time it takes you to get ready. At what time you leave the house, how long you talk to that friend, up until the moment you order your matcha. How many people stand in line in front of you, which table at the café you get and what moment you decide to put your phone down and look up at the people that pass you.
Even more so, it’s also that incident you remember from years back, which makes you acknowledge someone more presently.
Oh my, how miraculously fate works.
It’s pure magic, this universe.
You know how, when you’re younger, everyone is talking about their twenties? How, in their twenties, everyone is figuring shit out, technically is a grown-up, but has no clue about anything? For me it’s different. So far my twenties aren’t hard at all, they are actually pretty damn amazing.
I always wanted to be an adult. Even as a kid, I felt so smart and couldn’t wait until I could do all the things on my own. My biggest pet peev was that people didn’t take me seriously, looked down on me, just because I was young. But then, the night I turned 20 – everything changed. It was almost as if that heavy weight I’d been carrying around had dropped off my shoulders and I was free. Sounds so dramatic, but I can honestly say, I feel like a totally new me. Ever since then, I’ve been doing things differently. All the statements I made in my last post, are products of that change, it made me be who I am today and only the universe knows who I’ll become in the future.
All the things I used to be.
I used to be a very cocky, strong teenager, just because I thought, what was going on on the inside, wasn’t “cool” enough.
I used to be very good at school and university, going after the goals I “was supposed” to have.
I used to be so scared of everything, which resulted in me not wanting to feel anything at all most of the time.
I used to never wanna leave my home.
I used to be the biggest perfectionist, everything had its time, place and order.
I used to have a plan for everything, without one I would feel so lost.
I used to never leave the house without make-up, thinking my bare face wasn’t pretty.
I used to never say no, wanting to please everyone, but me.
I used to get black-out drunk, trying to escape reality, just for a couple of hours.
I used to be so pessimistic, that “fuck my life” was actually the slogan of my year 2016.
I used to be such a heavy person, I couldn’t find lightness in any situation.
I used to feel overwhelmed by most things, so I just watched TV-shows on end.
I used to hate any kind of physical movement.
Here’s to all the things that changed.
I am now sharing so much of what’s going on inside of me, with so many people, believing the only way out of a situation is through it and by speaking about what you’re going through, you’re taking its power over your mind away. Openness is the real “cool”.
I am now following my dreams. The things that I want to do, being unconventional, not acting on what others think I “should” do.
I am now facing my fears. Purposefully doing the things that scare the shit out of me. Going on a solo-trip to a place I’ve never been to. Skipping a semester at university to go to California, just because I can. Getting a dog, knowing it is a huge responsibility. Opening up my heart to new people and situations, knowing I could get hurt.
I am now a big travel-lover. The thought of visiting a new place excites me every time.
I am now letting go of old patterns. Not freaking out every time something wasn’t in its exact spot.
I am now switching things up on purpose. Doing things differently, forcing change. As my mantra says “Change is my constant.” Not getting too comfortable with a routine, not wanting a plan for the next two years. Going with the flow, life will unfold.
I am now only wearing make-up on very special occasions and for the right reasons, knowing my face is goddamn beautiful, without that color on it. (Still cocky, as you can see.)
I am now thinking about offers, questions, favors more carefully, making myself the priority, even if that means I will piss people off or seem selfish.
I am now not drinking anymore, I haven’t been for the last six months and am so proud of myself for dealing with situations in a healthy way, instead of escaping them.
I am now trying to keep my mind the happiest, most colorful, bright and sparkling place you could imagine. The goal is to take up so much optimistic space, that the pessimistic words need to leave.
I am now so much lighter, in every aspect of life. Dragging all that weight around with me was exhausting.
I am now tackling one thing at a time, knowing how amazing it feels to get shit done. Also, knowing what shit doesn’t need to get done, helped a lot.
I am now a yoga teacher. Moving my body is my job, my passion. I am now so freaking awesome, 16-year old Pari would think I come straight out of a horror movie. I am moving, I am active, I am alive.
I am now alive. I am living this life, trying to make it the best I could imagine. Working hard on the parts that need to be worked on and letting go of the ones that I don’t need anymore.
This blogpost might be the most personal yet, opening up about so many wounds that needed to be healed. It’s funny how much people change. Meeting someone I’ve known way back is very odd. How do you tell someone, that you are still you, but also a totally different person? Like, yes, I still have the same face, body, my name is still Pari and the smile you remember is still here, but my attitude changed, I have a completely different world view now and am probably nothing like you remember me.
That teenage-Pari is still a part of me, I needed her. All of that was necessary to get to where I am now and many more changes will be needed to get to where I will be in the next decades to come.
But for now, I am me.
I always have been.