Two writings from AnnaMieke, 

Below are two beautiful writings translated from Dutch, written by my dear Dutch friend AnnaMieke, with whom I have weekly conversations about our Embodied Language (EL) and our Language Enlightenment (LE) on Skype. Come and join us. We would love that. Email me at mpeperkamp@sbcglobal.net. My skype name is limbicease. AnnaMieke writes and speaks in Dutch on Stiller Ervaren. (klompanna.blogspot.com)  and has many fabulous, fascinating, fantastic videos on her You Tube Channel: Luisterend Spreken.   

 

Portal of Silence.

 

Portal of silence that I find myself in, where the entrance to all my writing and speaking is located and I can notice what a silence can do when I stand still in the moment of experience and my voice that I have, as a cast reflection of myself can take me along, into the space I create, that walking through the portal, find reassurance in my calmness of speaking, in the flow I am in and invites me to write or speak about this in my language came into existence. Where the value of my life is placed in a link, which remains the clue in the portal of silence, to dare to take that step, to listen to yourself, to experience that your own voice demands it, to know that wearing so many other things no longer suits you. Who, under the assumption of experiencing who you really are, has been waiting for so long for the permission you give, to see what the portal of silence can bring you in life experiencing your own voice. Where embodiment can come again and let arise in what comes. The entrance that I have found in the silence that I have, in being able to experience that in every conversation, wisdom can unfold, my flow of experience can be established from the silence that I have discovered. To then be able to speak and write in the creation that this morning while I was walking I saw a stork standing and was reminded of a birth that I know well and could draw to me as very symbolic and then saw that the portal of silence showed me that this will be the entrance to speaking and writing from my language. Where my silence can be found in being able to be silent and not wanting anything else than where I am now. I walked further and saw a turtle he got lost and crossed on a busy road, where a very friendly girl picked up the turtle and put him on the other side. I was able to look at him for that little head that I saw, but when I started talking to the turtle, I saw how he stood listening to my voice and then came out and wanted to walk in the beautiful rhythm it had, in the fleetingness of the experience and that I felt how adventurous his sudden appearance brought me back to the calm and rhythm that I saw how the turtle showed itself. In the end, someone took it who had room for it, and I continued walking in the experiences I had and felt so happy in what this morning brought me again, in what I remain telling from the portal of silence, which remains in the new movement, but also continuing to feel the invitation to direct myself to the other and take you to the portal of silence, which is ultimately possible for everyone, and there you could find your own silence in order to make the attempts in the steps you take, to experience your own silence, in speaking to yourself and find your own portal there, where in your own silence you are always told how you would experience can land as you create.

 

Individuality.

 

What the individuality of understanding has taken the form of the sound that I create myself, that in my wildest dreams, the sun shines again, can greet the trees as if they were my family and let mother earth feel the tingle in the steps that I take. I put what happened to me into listening to myself. There is no similarity to be drawn in sharing on my blog or speaking as it wants to unfold, where the rhythm I feel has softened, in the readiness of my language, which so improbably no longer wants to have a similarity, than to let it arise in every moment of sharing. The layers of being in the realm of rarity, where the ergo in sounding seems no different than the wings that a bird has, than the moon is more beautiful to experience if I pay attention . My day can also start as I am writing now. No longer being crushed in what I do not know, but in the confidence in who I am, being able to look further for a single reason, that in my world there is no struggle or pleasure, or a distorted opinion, where manipulation always lies. But I can remain in my own conviction, in the value of experiencing, always put it in the foreground and always stand still, in every moment, where my beauty can arise. That the opportunity I take to tell myself and then see that my individuality has shifted to an area where my silence wants to blossom and can go along with the waving of the reeds, which in the whole of interpretation tells nothing else that I am investigating what my silence tells. It is the atmosphere that I taste of daring to experience, what silence can do to me and can present as a revelation, in speaking to myself and sitting still, no words can find more, but to experience what it feels like, what my silence now tells. Being equal and feeling one as nature can show and bending towards all the flowers that open in front of my face, in the colorful reception in my do it every day, that in the simplicity of my experience I can do this every day. My individuality in writing, but also in my speaking, where my language is the foundation, where my experience of my silence continues and can show that there is is more than what I can describe and meets my loving silence there. I rub my hair and feel on my face that the traces of some wrinkles mean little to me anymore. Because the silence I feel has a different focus than it shows in the individuality I find, daring to be as I am, in my individuality of sharing and being able to show that nothing is too crazy for me to describe from the silence that I have.