All feelings are allowed E-Book

Kirsten Anderstein

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 79

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

All feelings are allowed! Silence is like poison that slowly spreads and makes it impossible to live a carefree life. Opening up and breaking the silence is the first step towards healing. Talking about what moves us creates freedom. Anyone who overcomes fear and learns to play the leading role in their life has understood what it means to feel what you live. Stories that life writes can help everyone and others to find a balance in their own emotional world. Reason and emotion do not always agree and produce a clear, balanced mood: fear says something different to reason, anger and joy are of a different opinion to patience and justice. Love and humility teach: It is what it is

Leseprobe

Foreword

"LOVE makes love grow!" This is still anchored in my heart today. Even if you have positive experiences in your life, negative ones leave scars.

The lesson: we learn as much from pain as we do from love.

But what counts above all: Admitting that all feelings are allowed. Every form of emotion is healthy for our body, but also for our soul. Silence, on the other hand, is like poison that slowly spreads and makes a carefree life impossible.

Talking brings about healing.

Those who understand this overcome their fear and rise to the challenge.

I did exactly that and wrote little stories from all of this that life wrote.

The model for this was Virginia Satir, who compares our existence to a theater stage in which we play the leading role. However, all our feelings are extras who are also assigned their role. Schulz von Thun describes this as "the inner team" with which conversation is conducted. Only when every part of us understands its role does the stage work of our lives begin.

Anyone who learns to play the leading role in their life has understood what it means to feel what you live.

About the author

Kirsten Anderstein was born in Munich in 1971 and initially worked in the computer industry after training as an administrative assistant. She studied psychology as well as anxiety and stress management and now works successfully as a coach for systemic counseling, burnout and relaxation.

She lives in the Upper Palatinate with her husband and daughter. There she teaches courses at the VHS and for children at Schülerhilfe.

She wrote short stories about her experiences as a child, teenager and adult in order to get to know and understand herself better. In order to lead her life as a trauma survivor and healthy adult, her inner dialog is important to the author. Mindfulness plays an important role in her life. Therefore, when she is not painting or writing about her feelings and experiences, she enjoys reading and taking photographs.

The tunnel

It was a glorious summer's day. The meadows and fields were a glorious green. Flowers blew gently in the wind. The scent of freedom was in the air. The sun was delighting nature with its rays. - And so did I. Nevertheless, I wasn't myself that day. A lot was going through my head. So I tried to find my peace and strength in nature once again - as I often do.

This time, my path led me through a wide valley that I didn't know yet. It fascinated me to keep discovering and experiencing new things. - I was restless, searching - but I found nothing that reassured me. At a fork in the road, I finally decided to take the path that turned off to the right. I almost felt compelled to take it. - But why?

Well, the one on the left didn't look so inviting. It was stony, dark and littered with various objects that people had simply thrown away carelessly. I didn't want to go down paths like that again.

Here, the one on the right seemed friendly, even inviting. It literally smiled at me. There were stones on the sides, but everything seemed clean and pure. - So I simply set off on this path with a firm step.

I had been on the road for a while when I came to a tunnel. - "Not very inviting," I thought to myself. But there was nothing to indicate that I was passing it. I had to stay on this path. - It's not long, I can already see the end. - So, inside.

However, when I reached the middle, the end had suddenly disappeared. I was suddenly standing in front of a huge stone wall. "That can't be right!" In disbelief, I approached the wall and scanned it. Yes, it was true. I was standing in front of a huge wall that reached up to the ceiling.

Just as well that the other side was open. So I turned on my heel and headed straight for the other exit. But before I knew it, it was bricked up too. How could that be? It couldn't be true - what kind of madman would close a tunnel completely without an emergency exit? Above all, where had these walls suddenly come from? A shiver ran through me in the complete darkness. How was I supposed to get out of here? How had I got into this state in the first place?

Desperate, I let myself slide to the floor where I was standing. I hugged my knees and rested my head on them. Tears ran silently down my cheeks and wet the floor. Fear slowly rose up inside me. How was I ever going to get out of here?

Suddenly I heard a soft noise coming from the direction of the tunnel entrance. What was that? A scratching sound? A knocking? That wasn't possible in this wasteland, was it? There again ... No, I wasn't mistaken. It was clearly audible. I followed the sound. - I slowly made my way forward on all fours and carefully felt my way along the wall until I reached the tunnel exit. The sound was now clearly in front of me.

Scratching, knocking, scratching, knocking ... as if someone out there was giving the SOS signal. It was clear: SOS.

Short, short, long, long, short, short ... why was there an SOS? I was trapped here!

I shouldn't be thinking about that now!!! I should be glad that there was someone here who saw my situation and did something about it. - But apart from SOS, nothing came.

Complete silence had returned. - I sank to the floor again. - And now? Why had someone brought me here just to leave me sitting here? This couldn't be true. I heard ... NOTHING. Once again ... NOTHING. Just absolute silence. Then ... there it was again. A clear knock. I didn't think twice this time. I responded immediately. I gave the SOS signal back. Short, short, long, long, short, short. - There was no response. - So I tried again and again. Slowly I became discouraged and the fear took over again.

At that moment, I heard a noise. It was outside - clearly: someone was in front of this wall. I called out: "Hello" - no response. Again, a little louder: "Hello, is someone there? Please answer me - I'm trapped here. I want to get out of here please!!!!"

"Take it easy," a clear, gentle voice on the other side of the wall actually said. "Calm down, everything will be fine." Those words again. Yes, it touched me. It went deeper than anything I had ever felt before. "Everything will be fine," the voice repeated its words.

I was no longer alone! Someone was ready to help me. Who was the person behind that voice? It didn't matter. I listened to what was happening. And I heard it again: "Calm down. Everything will be fine." "They already said that ... Please, help me."

"Good" - "Feel your way forward. Is there anything you can use to help you dig or scratch?" - "It's pitch black. How am I supposed to find anything here?" - "Once again: feel your way. Can you feel anything? Feel it." "Feel it? I'm sitting here in the dark. My tears are running down my face and they're telling me to feel something? What more should I feel?" "Take it easy ... feel the ground ... feel, feel ... is there a stone, something sharp?"

I was digging in the dirt on the floor, what a mess. But the voice at the other end encouraged me to carry on. So I did as I was told: I wanted to get out of here. So I dug and dug ... there, yes, I could feel it clearly ... something sharp. I dug further and was able to get it out: after feeling it, it was a spoon. Yes, indeed: a spoon.

"Yay," I exclaimed with relief. "I've actually dug up a spoon here." "That's good. Now start scratching at one of the stones. Scratch the edges. Tap to show me which of the stones you're taking." I did as I was told. Knock, scratch. I heard the same on the other side. "I can't believe it ... what's this all about?"

"Don't think so much, just do it - you have to do something yourself. I can only be accommodating here. You have to do the work. So please: keep scratching." "I have no idea what awaits me then, do I? Who can guarantee that I'll get out of here and, above all, that you mean well by me?"

"You have to trust me. - If I tell you it's going to be good, come and meet me and believe that it is what it is." "I want to believe it."

"Then please don't stop, keep scratching - can you feel it loosening yet?" Indeed, the stone moved slowly. There: a small hole, yes, that spurred me on and so I kept on scratching. Suddenly the stone came loose. That couldn't be true: it came loose.

I pushed it out of the wall. A slight ray of sunlight now fell through the resulting hole. I was blinded for a moment. But when I got used to the light again, I saw a hand reaching out to me through the opening. A female hand. A gentle, soft hand was held out to me. I gripped it tighter. "Please, don't let go of me," I begged urgently. "You have to let go so that you can regain your grip. - Once again: please trust me. You have to tear down this wall. I can help you, support you, but you have to tear it down."

"Good, then show me what to do." "Trust me. Let me do it and I'll help you break in here, brick by brick."