Archive for the ‘ A grain of Salt ’ Category

Hi and Hoo

Santa Claus
The consumption oriented Christmas is starting here. A bit early… we just survived All Saints Day. Never the less, the shops in Gothenburg are getting full of Santa’s in various sizes and dancemooves. It makes me wonder.

I red about Santa Claus, the real one, in one of my new favorite books
”The Oxford Dictionary of Saints” by David Hugh Farmer:
Did you know that the Bishop of Myra lived in Turkey (4th century) was known to be a thaumaturge, a miracle worker. Myra in Swedish means ”ant”. I have to disregard this fact, since he was not the Bishop of ants…
Later canonized to be Santa Nicholas, he was known to both the eastern and western church tradition, and he survived the worst prosecution of Christians of all times under the Roman emperor Diocletian. He was/is a popular saint.

According to the legend the Bishop of Myra gave away three bags of gold to three young sisters by simply throwing it secretly through their window one night. Now they had money to their marriage dowries, and they didn’t have to start to earn their living as prostitutes. Since the Bishop remained an unknown giver, the girl’s father still was enabled to keep his head high in the society, since he never found anyone to owe anything to. Not in his lifetime anyway. The Bishop of Myra seems to have something else, something moore precious than gold, and plenty of it, since he gave for nothing, and the gift was great. I believe we have all been given the gift of life for nothing, therefore we shall be giving for nothing.

Interesting. Maybe it is good the Santas are out early this year…




Horizon is an abstract word.
Although the horizon is abstract it always draws my attention in a very concrete way when I am out. How can a thing be looked at and at the same time be abstract?

And isn’t it strange: when you get to the point on the map where you clearly saw the end of the view, you start to see something else. A whole new view.
I guess it is the same with the Rainbow.

It is said the rainbow has a pot of gold buried on the spot the place it goes down in the ground. And no one can ever check.
I think a lot of you think of God this way. You can’t proof he exists but neither can you contradict a believer. It always ends up in a long talk about abstract thoughts. I just want you to know that whatever your religious beliefs are – you are always welcome here.
I want to broaden my horizons.


I was brought up in a Christian home. My mother worked as an immigrant teacher and learned at lot from her. Her wisdom and her eye for the special needs of different pupils was a great experience for me.

I love to hear her talk of her dear young friends at school. They came from all over the world. She found out the best way to teach Swedish was to ask them to talk about their beloved home they had fled from. Only she said they had to talk Swedish all the time. Their hearts were burning with eager to tell their story. She heard about their climbing in trees and backyards and friends. All in coloring words by a child filled with longing and dreams.

Later she worked at the University. There she met another face of the multitude: Religions philosophy. She once taught me the resemblance in the lotus rose and the Christian roses we sing of in my church.
The symbols go way back and are very interesting as it is a universal language. Often you need words to specify the exact meaning of a symbol. The explanations are very important.


Explaining is a way of earning respect: It is given over time: the time it takes for someone to tell the truth and the hearer to understand the very same.

People have survived living next to each other – even though they are very different – just by knowing and respecting each other. I think it is all through words and explanations and our willing to understand. I believe it is a forgotten truth: the urge and the strive to always make us understood and to explain ourselves. The words can seem a bit abstract at first by still catch your eye.
It is because love is buried deep in the search for truth, and love is irresistible.

I love to be taught. Please feel free to teach me something about your religion if it is different than mine. If I don’t show you my horizon, no matter how blurry it may come out in writing, how can you ever see me? This is why I speak of my religion sometimes. Very abstract to some. But also very interesting, since it has my sincere love buried in it and my deepest longing to be understood.

Packing bags


What you need:
One huge suitcase
A bag of considerable size.
Another one of those.
A strong back.
A determined mind.
One of the bigger shortcuts in packing bags is to take a huge bag/suitcase from the beginning. You will fill it to the brim anyway… closing it standing jumping on it.
And then you realize you have forgotten The Only Important Thing (TOIP). You simply wipe the sweat of your forehead and open it. Please remember to stay far away as you can open your bag again. Then the IFOs that comes flying out from your surreal but successfully squeezed packing of the suitcase won’t hurt you.
Get closer to the bag as it stops to pop IFO’s and then take the first and the second extra bag to place the things you can do without, to make room for TOIP.
For me that would be my books or my shoes or my microphone or in-ear system or why not a CD?
Then you close the suitcase and weigh it. Here you need the strong back. First you place yourself on the scale. Then you look at the weight and memorize it. Step of the scale and grab the handle of the suitcase and step on the scale again. Here is where you realize you can’t see the figures since the suitcase is in the way.
You use all your strength of your body and at the same time take a mean value of the scale since it is impossible to stand still. Right here you start sweating. Then you start to calculate.
Too heavy. You do the unpacking procedure again until you realize you have just found it wise to not bring anything else but TOIP. If you have the two bags at hand and fill them with the perfectly laundered and folded items you can’t bring on your journey, at least you haven’t spread them all over your floor and the bags can easily be stowed away until you come back.

But it wont be long until you’re back since you have already missed the transportation and the flight. But the packing is with no doubt perfectly performed.

The best way to pack a bag is to never unpack it. Once you have taken out the laundry – close the bag. It is a perfect combination of four things:
– You save time. Just find the suitcase and put the clean things in.
– You find things you forgotten you were in possession of when you re-open the bag again after it’s been hiding in you closet for a considerable time. You get happy and surprised
– You find memories from the old trip
– You remember a lot of things to bring that you else would have forgotten.

Not like other blogs

Post it
My blog will not be like other blogs. Someone might borrow it for a while, someone might want to teach you and me something, and someone might want to sell you and me something or give us some ideas through this board. Keep in mind I love to learn.

As my grandfather told me learning is the way to stay forever young. And we wouldn’t fail on our lessons in love by Alphaville, would we?

I won’t write messages every day. That would take a person who is very unlike me. But I will call it a blog since I have no better name for it.

Welcome on board. Salt anyone?

My second language

A grain of salt
Words in writing might come across to the reader in an awkward way and I have no one but myself to proofread, or poorFred as it often comes out like when I am in charge of the keypad…

You have to take my writing in my second language with a grain of salt.

Thinking of it, it’s a good expression since it runs in two directions. Firstly; Pepper is the spice of life and Salt is life itself. Sometimes I want to share some thoughts. I can become pre.t.ty silly in some of them. And in others very serious. Cry with laughter and sorrow with me. Tears are salty.

And secondly; sometimes please feel free to leave my words unread if you feel reluctant to what I write – maybe it was not for you? Then use a grain of salt. If you have both of these ”salty binoculars” overlooking my way of writing I will feel excused and free to write my heart out, regardless what it is full of:)

Remember I am not English. I am Swedish with a strange twist of British sense of humour, whatever that means.

I enjoy myself in these messages – you should remember that I have a “you” in mind when I write this. A “you” that is as normal or as strange as I am.

And I wish you very welcome to a piece of my truth. With a grain of salt.

A kind of blog

Welcome to my board. My Story begins here with you today. Here are my thoughts, my situations, the people around me, my questions, my wonderings, my theories, my newly bought stuff, my daydreams, my music, my shortcomings, my humour… Everything that can to be brought into writing is here.

Writing “To win the world”, my autobiography, has set my writing free.

I hope you and me will write stuff together here on in the future. It is one of my dreams to help others to find their own writing language, since it is as unique as your fingerprints. I will name the meeting point here “The Chamber.” As I sit in my chamber in my house and try to put thoughts into words I can feel such joy that I am finally doing this! I tell you more about The Chamber later.

I guess you can call this a kind of blog.

Blog comes from the word log. At least I hope so, since I wrote it in such an assuring way. Continuing in that hoping spirit, the logbook is used at sea as the black boxes are used in aircrafts. If an aircraft goes down, the box tells us what has happened.

At sea logbooks are used to keep track on where you are and how the weather has been, but the Captain who writes the log always sails by the compass or the stars or some other fixing mark, like a lighthouse for instance. I am not a lighthouse. My lighthouse or fixing mark is and will always be God. I’m just another sailor in my boat sending you words in yours as I sail along, approaching the same horizon as you.