This is a sort of emotional diary, shifting between past and future in how it is based on personal experiences. It is a bit disconnected as our life can be, still there is some kind of connection, however it is deep and personal. It all started with an introspection thought process about my name, ...
Oh I am planning to change back my name to Stefan Israelsson. I'm divorced and according to some logic, it's nice to match my children's surname and I adore my ex wife parents. So I kept Tampe for a while. But I also think it's time to start anew and I think keeping it simple has also some logic to it. I could have changed it to Stefan Israelsson Jonson, just to make statement that I like my step father who is also an idol to me and raw model. But I punted on that, it's to complicated. I like Israelsson.
It was the daughter of a priest that married into my father's ancestors family around 1650. She brought that name into the soil of the beautiful Björke (A small village north of Gävle), where a part of me will always be rooted. Her father was named Israel. Somewhere inside me, there is a small chamber, that is devoted to what I believe is good and I truly feel that love in my chest that Christianity nurses as their main message. I work like a monk many times, hard and focused. So I feel the name is actually perfect.
But of cause I'm not a monk. Just a normal man like every other man, it's just my emotional life has two sides. Both kind of "up with the Gods", meaning that I play in an emotional space, that usually is quite uncommon to be in normally but a place I spend to nurse ideas and explore and improve my life and art. Then I'm also proud of trying to be very down to earth, something that is important in my view and should be a goal for everybody, high and low, especially to avoid stupid mistakes and get a false meaning of life. I move between the extremes in a sense as a way to manage.
However today my feelings are quite poetic, So I leave this introspective part if the diary and enters into the whim that followed this day, to dine out and experience a deep movement inside that melded both mindful philosophy and a poetic commentary of it
Here is the "fore play" ...
A week has passed with a heavy infected leg and quite a lot of medicine to cure it. I was in the hospital half a week just to lower the infection as much as the risk for blood poisoning was minimized and I could just take pills to counter the infection. So this is my vacation, eating pills, quite tired and low on energy. Although I'm taken by the medicine and the infection, I set out to do something to introduce some summer feeling and joy in my life and I thought that food is perfect to put some comfort on this bodily circus. So what I now do, to feel that I have vacation, is to try to find a nice restaurant and sit down alone at a table and focus on enjoying the food and surroundings. It is not only about good taste and a beautifully laid up meal. No, it is so much more. If you have not tried this, try it, at least I think it is fantastic. I eat slowly, elegantly, sensually, at least that's the intention, and with a lot of control. Yeah, a kind of food porn - if you want to call it that. I let the good taste of the food inspire every move and enjoying my body control. The biggest part of the brain is devoted to body control. One activates that part through exploration of the slow movement. All while in deep concentration, which incites excitement and a deep satisfaction. I let the tempo be prolonged. Slowness even if my hunger makes me shiver. Keep the focus, so that I do not give in to the taste in the speed that my hunger demands. Keep the control. Make sure to pause also. Look around me, take a breath, enjoy being alive and immersed into the world. Eat some bread which enable me to explore the sensations once more. Do not forget that bread is love that materialized. An art that one should try not to skip in one's dinner. A good bread is the best interplay there is ... Then I continue the "dance" in the night. One thing I noticed is how the interaction with other humans changes. I discovered the delight of being polite and kind to the waiter or waitress. How this common human behavior becomes so very smooth and pleasant. How I find myself accepting their passion for food and show that I understand their hard workmanship with a slow nod and perfect timing in those small nice words that let them be acknowledged and feel proud and satisfied of their and their colleagues work. In short I turned the meal into something else, something transcendental in a sense of how enchanting and mesmerizing the slow movement has on one's inner persona. Also I turn off the phone. I just zoom out and take in the word. With a slow beat, the transformed world whispers comfort. You realize you just want to be a good human, lover and father! Oh that love that grows makes your loneliness to a piece of art ...
And then the art, a poetic expression to on top the painted philosophy, ...
The taste of life trickles down
And that warm glowing light inside is somehow
Wagging the night into dawn.
I wake up in the early morning,
Darkness outside and
Memories of smiles and laughter,
Echoes between the wall's of solitude.
And it touches me.
The dreams enters the morning steps,
And one slowly enters the knowledge
That we can't name.
Senses something that calm my worry,
A taste of love or a taste of unconditional warmth.
I want to reply in the dream
How to touch another soul.
Just want to spread this insight,
That glow of life.
I awakes with a tremendous hunger.
Hunger for life.
For hearing a happy clinging laugh.
The world starts to move.
People in the street, cars on their way for day's work.
Life in all it's detail.
Bubbles of hope, wishes, love
And a focus on today's tasks.
I'm thinking about the sensation of life.
How the world dresses in such a fine cloth ...
Silk, sensual, beautiful.
The kind that just makes you want to touch the day,
And feel that tactile sensation of a warm body enclosed ...
Shivering, and longing.
The world is longing for us to touch it.
It want to be sensual,
And not something you throw in the scrap yard.
Focus enters as the day continues.
I put some music on to make the air dance around me
As I starts to write a few words.
On that mundain work,
On that, that brings in food to the table.
I tap my fingers and let them touch each other.
I think back and smile about what matters.
Then a new idea enters and that work you work on ...
This is a life lesson for me.
Breaking the circles,
So that we can relax and read our inner soul
Touching in circles
Or these tactile methods that help you remember yurself.
Let the flow of life interplay in days work.
Let it enters my choices.
And the logical conclusions is colored,
with those strange colors,
that only lovers can paint with.
Then focus! and the equation is solved.
Yeah the mystery of life,