Walk with me

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There was a time in my life that nothing could have made me jump out of bed more than the promise of reading a blog that one wonderful woman was writing on the other side of the globe. I have never read or seen anything that would create such a strong reaction in me and was really never as compelled by someone’s writing as much as I was then. The words were cutting right through to the heart and the mind, giving me the education that I needed and reaching me where I was in my life at the time. At times I gasped in awe, and totally puzzled, I stammered in disbelief: How… how on Earth does she know how to meet me there? How on Earth does she know that I need to read what I am reading to transform? At times I was so spooked that I honestly looked around my own room in search of surveillance cameras feeling oddly exposed but at the same time totally understood in someone else’s writing. Have you ever experienced anything similar? Have you ever felt like that? Strangely capable of seeing yourself in other people’s experiences?

When Autumn ends, when the golden colours disappear and the grey and dullness start to seep in, I crave for inspiration, but what is truer is that I crave to be assured that the beauty will return, that the sun will shine strong again – and this is perhaps what inspiration does to our internal landscapes – it’s the sun that lights up our grey surroundings. It’s the sun that lights up the whole of you and it may come from outside but I have now learnt that it may come from within too. It’s almost a decision, or a pact with oneself, that even if there is nothing that inspires me now I will walk in its way… I will walk where the light is.

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The blog that inspired me so much was Inked in Colour. Go and visit the site.

What is it really like?

 

Light the dark
How did I feel back then when I came to the UK and sought asylum? The fear. The fear was always there. The unknown. … Where you’re going to sleep. … What is going to happen tomorrow. Anxiety. Constant anxiety.

– My hearing was so strong… All the noise was disturbing me. I was sitting there waiting for someone to call me. For example, someone was just asking if I want a tea but that sentence was bombarding my brain.

– You were hypersensitive?

– Yes. Hypersensitive.

– What was I fearing? I was fearing that I did not not exist. I was wishing that someone would recognize that I exist.

On Sunday (Sep 13th) at 9pm local time we will light candles in support of refugees and asylum seekers in front of our house. Do you think you can do it too? To light the dark with us. Light the dark UK. Light the dark the World.

What we fear

light and darkon  a cherry hunt_bw“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.” | Marianne Williamson, Return to Love

Spring in my heart and in my kitchen…

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Postcards from Poland

 

I’m visiting my family in Poland at the moment so I’ll be taking a short break from blogging. I hope to be back to writing in May.  Above are a few shots from my lovely village in Poland. Speak to you soon. Alicja x