Pen and heart
Someone once told me your pen connects to your heart. I thought how is that possible? My pen and my heart? I held my pen and was expecting that something would happen. Nothing happened. Then I stopped expecting, I just wrote. The more I wrote and the less I expected to more my heart expanded. Once it started expanding it became one with my pen. I got more trust and started writing differently, maybe in a deeper way. Sometimes I wrote about my heartbreaks, sometimes about joy, and my travels were always there. The date and place at the top of any page often changed. One day it was Amsterdam 20161106, then it was Aarhus 201601107, and then it turned into Berlin 20161108. Somedays I wrote about things that I didn’t like about myself. I wrote about moments I felt rejected. I wrote about my first kiss. I wrote about that boss which challenged me. I wrote about the mentor who trusted me, even more than I trusted myself. While days went by my pen became the mirror of my heart where every feeling was first allowed, processed, and left my being.