My Valentine

You are magnificent.

Your compassion for your fellow man is admirable, and I sometimes wonder how you can look at people in the way you do, with interest and understanding. You admire people for their originality and eccentricity, rather than judge them for their otherness. I have not met anyone capable of this other than you. Other people, both people I know, and people we observe in the world, might believe they are capable of not passing judgement, but really most of us are narrow minded and judgmental, myself included. But not you. I would love to see the world through your eyes, I believe that is a beautiful world that has room for everyone, and definitely a world I love that I'm a part of. 

This compassion is also visible in how you treat everything non-human as well. Having observed you carefully catch an insect in your hands and release it outside, is nothing short of heartwarming and amazing.

You are curious. When you find something that is of interest, you research it, learn about it, and are capable of talking about it, passing on what you have learned. I love to listen to your little narratives about both the past, present and future, and I hope you'll always keep this curiosity in your life.
You are gentle. I have never heard you raise your voice and get carried away by negative emotions. You are absolutely amazing.
You are funny. Your quiet humour is one of your best qualities. Sometimes when you tell a joke, you tell it with a straight face, and I have to think for a bit. But then it dawns on me that it was a joke, and I realise how funny it was...And I love how your face always is ready to smile.
You are caring. You help me carrying my troubles with me rather than leaving me alone with them. When ever I'm in pain you know, almost before I do, and instead of going away and not deal with it, you wrap your strong arms around me and let me know (almost without saying a word) that everything is going to be OK. And when I get overwhelmed when, for example, writing a master thesis, then you have an ability to calm me down and make me realise that I'm actually doing exactly what I intended to do, working as I should, and figuring things out. You make sure I remember my qualities, and that is one of the most powerful gift you can give to another person.
You are generous. If it wasn't for you, the times we spend together, living in different countries as we do, would not have been as frequent as they are.
You are passionate. I have honestly never felt more loved in my life than I do with you. I hope I show you as much love as you show me, because you deserve all my love for as long as I can breathe. 

You are magnificent, you are a giant, a titan...you are man as he should be and I love you now, and for as long as our souls can cling on to each other x

How music can change a life, and send you on the path you were supposed to be from the very beginning...

This entry is featured in a book about Marillion and their fans. 

In the spring of 2013 I went to my first ever Marillion weekend. I travelled alone, and felt like I was going to meet destiny. Was I ever right? It just didn’t happen it the order I anticipated.
           I met my friends at the Moon Under The Sea, or Sun Under The Moon, I could never get the name right (The Moon Under Water), and suddenly I was a part of something quite amazing. The pub became a sort of base camp for the people I hung out with, and I met so many new friends, and wonderful human beings. Among them was a smiling man. I remember thinking he seemed nice, but in a friend kind of way, as he was there with his significant someone, and I had a partner at the time (he was ill, and couldn’t make it to Wolverhampton). I just marvelled in the part where I made so many new friends, little did I know that I would call one of them the love of my soul. And little did we both know the grief and horror we would go through before the nice picture was a reality. I’m actually glad neither of us knew, as what was ahead of us was loss, trauma and death.

           This wonderful weekend of music and friends was a safe haven of something I have never found anywhere else. And the concert on Saturday, Brave night, was Out Of This World, and going back to the ordinary life was painfully difficult. And on the bus back to Heathrow, I must admit tears were running, and all the beautiful faces of friends forever were flashing before my inner eye.

That autumn I got engaged to my partner. I hadn’t been together with him for that long, but I realise now that he was in a hurry to live, and I said yes. He did warn me, he said: I could die. And I said: Well, we have no guarantees. But he knew what he was talking about, and on the 20^th of December, after having sat by his hospital bed for a long, long week, Pete died. I remember sitting down in front of the computer having to share the news with our Marillion family, they had all followed his illness from the side, so I felt I owed it to them to let them know. But in all my writing days, that message was the hardest I have ever had to compose.

            The support I got from the Marillion family was overwhelming, and so touching, that it helped me in those first horrible days. I got a message from Carolyn, she sent me her condolences… and then, a few days later, on the morning of December 26^th, Trevor posted a similar message on Marillion and fans to the one I had posted on the 20^th. Carolyn had passed away… And there we were. Both of our futures were ripped away from under us, we were left numb. But something good happened in the middle of the terror. I got a message in my inbox from Trevor, and we started talking. We shared the worst moments in our lives, and nobody knew as well as he did how I really felt. Nobody knew as well as I did how he really felt.
            In the beginning of our correspondence, it was all about helping the other one to survive, to see some sort of light in the darkest tunnel we had ever been in. How to sleep, how to ever find the courage to go back to work and university, how to survive the images of people’s final moments without entering into a nightmare state of mind, and having him there for that was certainly my lifeline.

But then things started to change. The people around us, friends of both Pete and Carolyn, probably thought things happened too fast. But not to us…we had been through the war together, we had been through the longest months of our lives together. We lived with the blinking images of final moments, the ringing of someone’s last words, the thoughts of whether or not we could have done or said something differently, and January and February seemed endless. We spoke together almost every day, and when you have someone who understands what you’re going through like that, it truly is the most special feeling in the world. He really knew what I was going through, he could relate to all the new emotions raging through my mind, emotions thankfully most people don’t ever have to relate to.

So, in the beginning of March, I knew that I really wanted to meet Trevor properly, and not just talk with him on Facebook chat. We both knew that doing something none of us ever had done before, like a leap of faith, was becoming a reality. And we leapt. He got on a plane and came to see me in Norway. And on the 18^th of March, we found the love of our souls, we suddenly had a future again.

            We know that the people we lost died while we still loved them. We know that it will never be a non-topic to talk about them with each other. We know that we still will remember the trauma we both went through, but we will do so together.

            I have never met a man like Trevor, he is kind and sweet, intelligent, funny, in touch with his emotions, and so strong, stronger than I think he knows himself.

This summer we went on a holiday together. We drove to Devon and Cornwall, saw Tintagel, among other places… and in the car we listened to all of Marillion’s studio albums, we sang along, loudly, sometimes slightly out of tune, but always completely convincing, and we had so much fun. It is hard to pinpoint one specific song, when all the songs, all the albums, have served as a back drop to our lives; to the drama, to the trauma, to the grief, to the fun and to the love we share. We are true Marillionaires, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. Now we are both looking forward to two Marillion weekends together in 2015, and hope to see both old and new friends.

Me singing my favorite Christmas song

https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=4871497601732&set=vb.1726147130&type=2&theater




This is an amateur recording of me singing Gabriel's Message the 13th of December 2014 :)
I found this carol through my favourite rock band, Marillion. And since then, this has been my favourite carol, and I hope I does it justice.

x

A strange year indeed

Hello my dear readers.

I am terribly sorry for remaining silent for so long. But this is what happens when life gets in the way of all the plans you plan, and all the intentions you indend.

This post will be of the personal kind, and I will take you with me on the wildness of mind, spirit and life that my past year has been.

It started with my fiancé, Pete, getting very ill. He sadly passed away the 20th of December 2013. And for me, a woman in my late thirties, experiencing that kind of loss at this stage in life, and for my son to face death at the age of nine, was and still is surreal. I missed my son's ninth birthday in Norway as I was sitting by Pete's hospital bed in England.
The morning on the day he died, I was in England, but I had a plane taking me back to Norway for Christmas. I had a terrible feeling, but I got on the plane. A part of me is glad I did, because I don't know how I would have coped with the loss had I not been surrounded by my parents, my son and my friends as I got the message of his death by his mother. There is obviously a lot more to the story that I'm not telling you, because it is still very fresh and raw in my memory. But Pete sent me home, so that I wouldn't be alone... He died with my voice on the phone, and his mother by his side.

So how do you cope with the loss of someone you had planned to grow old with?
The answer is that you cope as well as you can.
I couldn't sink completely into the sadness, because I'm a single mum, and my nine year old needed me. But the thing is, my son grew with this. He showed some amazing caring skills, and I wouldn't have made it trough this without him.

But getting through funerals and night terrors the first month is one thing, it is when the world around you start forgetting what you went through, when they expect you to go back to normal (even close family had this expectation), that the true strain of such a loss really comes to the surface. But in that situation I wasn't alone.
One of my friends lost his girlfriend only five days after I lost Pete, and we started talking right away. Because when everyone kept saying they knew what we were going through, he actually did, and could feel my hopeless emptiness, and he could understand better than anyone. It was good to have him.
I also sent myself to a therapist, because I didn't want my son to suffer...I needed to get my life back on track.
But like I said, it's when the everyday hits, you truly feel the emptiness. And I was lost. I had been alone for five years when I met Pete, and I am not good with being alone. So one desperate day in February I fell on my knees and screamed out in agony. I pleaded with Pete to help me, that I can't do this life alone. I said that either he had to come back to me, or he had to send me someone that he chose for me, because I was never good with the finding a mate. And I don't think I have been more serious and meant it more in any prayers I have ever said... It must have worked, because it took Trevor William two days to send me messages that couldn't be misinterpreted... he liked me.
Oh, and Trevor William is the one that lost his girlfriend... Hollywood couldn't have done this better. Because Trevor is the love of my soul. What I don't have, he fulfills, what he doesn't have, I fulfill... and this partnership is the lifelong, eternal even, love I have looked for all the years I have walked this earth.
It might be silly to thank Pete for Trevor, but I choose to believe he heard my cry, and I choose to believe that he chose Trevor for me...because Trevor really is the best man for me.

So, that was the dramatic part of my life. With Trevor I have travelled England in these months, we have seen Tintagel, we have seen Minack Theatre and Land's End, we have seen sublime pre-historic (almost) manmade structures, we have seen the strange roads in Devon, we have walked the streets of London, we have seen Shakespeare plays in Stratford Upon Avon, we have climbed (too) steep hills (too steep for me ;) he is very fit ;) ), and we have spent a lot of time getting to know each other... and sitting in Norway tonight, knowing he is in England at the moment, and knowing it's eight days until I see him again, is almost agony... but it is also a very good feeling. I have found serenity in this amazing man from Leicester. <3 And he's definitely worth the wait <3

As some of you know, I am an author...I mean, just look at the long posts I have ;) and this April my debut novel came out. It is called The Tenth Muse, and is an important story about inspiration, and about how human kind is getting lost in the search for happiness at the mall. I have written the book in both English and Norwegian, and you can get it at the attached link :)
Tomorrow I'm actually going to have a pre-launch for the Norwegian edition, and the reason for this post is that I'm a wee bit nervous. I have been working for my book for so long, and now it's here. I am proud, but I am also...nervous.
And on the 30th I will have my proper Norwegian launch at a book store where I live. And that is when I will see Trevor again, because he will be here with me for that...

I truly am a lucky woman. I have the best son any mother could ask for. And I have the best man any woman could ask for. I am blessed with an over active imagination, and I will keep writing for as long as my thoughts are cohesive and my fingers can dance over the keyboard.
I have been through a lot, and I am still standing. What's more, I will use what I have been through to maybe create a bit of hope for people in similar circumstances.

I am a lucky woman indeed, though I do look forward to a year with a bit less drama, hopefully.
Be inspired, people, and if you have someone you love...tell them today <3http://www.bullseyeshop.nl/c-2490001/roman-novel/

The Tenth Muse

Good early summer to you all...

I have written a book, and it has been published... Now I encourage you all to read it. I think it is a very important story :)

http://www.bullseyeshop.nl/c-2490001/roman/

The Only Unforgivable Thing

Marillion has a song called The Only Unforgivable Thing, and it's one of my favorite songs ever. It is beautiful, sad, honest, scary and it has a sense of catharsis to it. I always end up feeling so much better after having listened to that song. They have other songs like it, Neverland probably being their most famous catharsis song. But this isn't an entry about Marillion, though they go on tour this weekend, and I'm not going to be there...a thought that keeps bringing me to my knees, but, silver lining, my soulmate has promised to come with me to the next Marillion weekend, so I'll be satisfied, though I suspect a  few green thoughts this weekend. But in true Much Ado About Shakespeare style, I'm rambling on about things that hardly is the point. My point with this entry is; what is the only unforgivable thing? Oh, yes, welcome to one of the serious entries. I'm aware I haven't posted in a while, let's just say it's been a rather busy autumn, and not only in a good way. So why, do you ask, is the first entry since summer a serious one? Well, I think it has to be, because life isn't always fun and games.

What is the only unforgivable thing, and can we find it in the literature we so dearly love? Yes, without a shadow of a doubt, the literature I love, and talk about here, is full of characters faced with the choice of do or don't, the only unforgivable thing.
Aragorn takes two lifetimes to decide not to do the only unforgivable thing. He has avoided his fate long enough, and finally, at the black gates, he emerges as his true self. The true king of Gondor, Isildur's heir... and better yet, Elendil's heir, the first human king to fight Sauron.
Gollum is consumed by the only unforgivable thing, he cannot save himself. Even when Frodo "tames" him, he's still his own biggest enemy, and he is above anyone else Lord Of The Rings' tragic character, and falls under his own desire to follow his only desire. Not that following ones own desire is a bad thing, but when a desire for own gain becomes more important than, say, love and being surrounded by family and friends, then you end up losing.
Frodo almost loses that battle. Had Gollum not been there, Frodo's mind would have been lost to greed. Instead he loses a finger, which is a fair loss come to think of it. A loss I think he's happy about in hindsight. A finger for ones sanity, an easy choice, or is it?
Iago in Shakespeare's Othello is so jealous and so racist that he can't function as a normal human being. He can't enjoy his own life because a man he doesn't deem worthy has more power than himself. The only thing on his mind is to hurt the Moorish Othello. And the colour of his skin is highly important here. In his mind it is wrong that a Moor can have wealth and prosperity, and a beautiful wife as such. And, spoiler alert, he manages to ruin Othello's life, and Desdemona dies at Othello's hand. What makes a man (because this doesn't only happen in the stories of old) be so jealous of someone that he's willing to destroy both his own life and the life of the one he's envious of? Is there some kind of poetic justice I don't understand? What makes people hold on to grudge for years and years?
Some old disagreement makes the Capulets and the Montagues fight until two children dies (because Romeo and Juliet were thirteen year olds). And why should someone feel the need to decide who another person can or cannot see and love? What gives someone that kind of power? We are all in capacity of one true possession in life, our own life. We do not own anything or anyone else. So what gives people that kind of power?

I am being a bit too serious, I sense... But I think these are important questions to ask. I have just as much right to my place on this planet as Obama, or men in power (because statistics show that there are far more male leaders than female - I live in a country with a female leader, but I don't much care about her political views, she's against sharing and general human compassion, not to get political in any ways...). We should never excuse our existence, not to people in our close social groups, or to our governments. We are all children of the earth, and all of us came naked and full of prosperity into this world. A poor child in Sudan has just as much of a claim to his place on this planet as a child in wealthy Norway.

Though they manage to sort through it in the end (because it 's a comedy), both Beatrice and Benedict are victims of pride. They both know, deep down, that the other one is their other half, but they choose to bicker and quarrel for a while before finally seeing the truth. The truth is that they were born to spend their lives together, and they will only be happy once they realise said truth.
And having entered the word truth in this, we are close to something. Because what is unforgivable for one person is maybe completely okay for another person. We can also talk about truth in society vs truth inside the four walls of our homes. Some people find it perfectly acceptable to beat the crap out of spouses and children. We can argue that they have inner demons, but when is it acceptable to abuse someone else's God given body and right to dignity and life? When? No matter someone's past, what gives them the right? "I was beaten myself, so I hit people"...? Yet, people live in these conditions, sometimes a lifetime, and accept it. How so? Is that the only unforgivable thing?
Is it the only unforgivable thing to lie down in self pity, blaming the world for our own shortcomings? Sometimes we actually have to kick ourselves in the backside and get over ourselves. I'm obviously not talking about people who are ill, and need rest, love and care. But then again surfaces another dilemma, when is it up to other people to judge when enough is enough? Is that something other people can decide?
So, is the only unforgivable thing to bee a victim of the seven sins of the bible? I think we as human beings all fall short if this is the rule of the universe. I personally think it's not that easy. And lust, for one, is not only a bad thing, if you ask me. And the others can be quite handy as well, when used controlled, and not taking over ones entire being. Determining what is unforgivable is difficult.

I actually think that the only unforgivable thing is denying oneself a chance to be as good as one can. No matter the situation, country we're born in, the prospect of future we're faced with, to be anything less than we can is unforgivable. Not on a global scale, not in a society scale, not even in the scale of four walls... but on a highly personal scale. A person who use violence knows it's wrong. A person who do drugs knows it's wrong, a person who cheats on someone knows it's wrong,  a person who lies knows it's wrong... a person who kills knows it's wrong, deep down, we all know this...no matter the cause, we all know! I know this sounds a bit naive and silly, but as we have an obligation to the mutual good of our society, we also have an obligation towards ourselves. We have an obligation to be the best we that we can. And no one can do it for us. And that is, I think, the only unforgivable thing, to give in to, and blame, everything else in the world, than to look to the only one who can make the changes that needs to come.
Only YOU can change you x x

Summer bliss

Again I find myself in a busy summer situation, where every thought of writing and creating just slips away in wet sand, salty waves, and sunny thoughts.
My mind wanders to the lovely land of bright fairytale islands where butterfly boats float on the sea as a shattered rainbow on the sparkling evening water
My dreams are sitting on a sandy beach surrounded by velvet air, disappearing in the words and strength of his beautiful mind.
Every thought of getting lost in my own words and tales are left in the pages of summer stories and imaginary worlds of love and wonder.
Every idea is stored for the autumn, while the now discovers the self all a new.
Every longing feeling of love is stretching across water to my lovely England where I left my heart.

Summer

I've been busy so long now, that I almost feel I have lost all of my readers... but for some very nice reason, I see you're clicking in, reading my posts. I am very flattered. I have two very interesting posts coming up. One brilliant list of my favorite characters from the Tolkien universe (I have picked the characters, I just need to sit down and write why I've picked them and what their role is, and also add why I feel so strongly about them.), and one entry that I'll treat as a paper at university, where I'll look at the heroes in The Lord Of The Rings.
So, don't give up on me just yet. I am still here, and I'm writing every day :)

In the meantime, have a good summer x

Sadness...

Lost my friend today....

I love you, sweetie... You were the best!

Winter thoughts

I am so sorry I've been a bit absent for a while, there really are no excuses. I will pull my act together, I promise. The thing is I have started a rather big project at Uni now, involving a lot of writing and a lot, a lot of studying, and being a single mum, sometimes the hours of the day simply aren't many enough.

But, I thought to myself the other day, I don't need to bring long entries every single time I update my blog. I could just tell you about this lovely trip I had to Liverpool a couple of weeks ago. I don't need to write about Shakespeare and Marillion, as my blog is about everything from Avon's Swan to Odin's crows... so I could tell you something very personal and very, well, sweet, to be honest, abut that trip, and it would totally be a part of what this blog is all about. And I'm usually a person who never mucks about thinking too long about things. So here I am, with an entry about life, really :-)

Liverpool is cold in February, but the people are warm and wonderful. I met up with a few friends I've found through my heart's music, Marillion, and they were as charming and delightful as I hoped they would be. Even better in real life, when I'm completely upfront. My first real meeting with Liverpool was at The Cavern, where Tim ...Something... were playing Beatles tunes, and he rejoiced in finally having a reason to play Norwegian Wood, as there finally was a Norwegian in the audience. My friend, Sue, wonderful, lovely Sue, showed me around, and I felt so looked after, and safe... 

This was the Friday, as I had gotten up at silly o'clock to get there, so I turned in rather early. 

But Saturday was the real diamond in my days in Liverpool. We had planned to meet up with a few more of our Marillion friends, and the Cavern became the venue for our gathering on Saturday as well. When we were all there, well the scene was set for a long day of fun and music and just brilliance. The best day in a while. Ended a bit sad, as I'm no fan of goodbyes, but following a goodbye is a hello in the future, so I'll live :-)

I'm going back in April, to Wolverhampton then... And also a weekend full of Marillion, friends, and a little bit of mania... The Marillion convention 12-14th of April... come join the magic.

Tim at the Cavern

Leaving the UK keeps getting that little bit harder every time... but luckily I get to go back, and that is always a delight. :) 

Identity - Friends

A couple of days ago I wrote an entry about duality and truth, but mostly it was about identity. And that is a concept I need to elaborate on a little bit. Not in a literary context this time, but in a personal, yet global context.
We figure out who we are through the people we spend time with. We identify with the people who identify with us...it's actually a complex and difficult topic to discuss come to think of it. All I know is that my world has expanded this last year or so, and is has a lot to do with the discovering of identity.
Who am I?
At Uni I found people I'll have in my life for as long as I live, friends that will help shape me into a better person. People who share their deepest secrets with me, and who trust me to keep them, people I would trust with my most precious...
We identify with each other through the love of literature and probably through a bit of madness :-) This is an experience I get to have because of a choice I made a couple of years ago.
A choice that turned out to be one of the good choices made during a life.

Another good choice was when I went from being a normal listener to a hard core fan of this little band called Marillion... if you have been reading my blog for a while, you certainly have heard the name before...and just get used to the fact that you will hear it again.
I almost feel a bit like a teenager when I talk about Marillion.
My brother was trying to explain to someone just how I felt about them, and his words were these;
Silje feels about Marillion as the teenager girls feels about Justin Bieber.
His comment made me laugh, and in a sense he's right. Yet there is so much more to being a fan of Marillion than the adoration part.
The music is magical, yes :-)
The band are so wonderful, caring and talented, yes :-)
The concerts are out of this world, yes :-)
The band connect with their fans on a level that is heartbreaking and so unique that I don't think their like can be found.
According to their lead singer, Steve Hogarth, it's not "us" and "them", it's just US. And we have all become a part of a big worldwide family of music, respect, beauty and a bit of comfortable madness :-)

The friends I've made through Marillion are what makes this take on another level completely.
There is the one whose poetic skills equals to Shakespeare and Hogarth...A person I can share funny and heartbreaking thoughts with...
There are the ones who bicker amongst themselves, and you just get a sense that they really enjoy the company the other represent. I'm honored that they make me feel welcome into their world where everything turns into jokes and sharp sarcasm... it's their way of getting through the days. And to do it so elegantly, and making me laugh so hard, yeah, I want to have friends like that in my life. Pictures of "dogs in fog" LOL
There is the one who always has a kind word, "a good night, my friend", even when I make freudian slips... the laughter was polite... I hope ;-) Yet, I fear that it was flat out hysterical... it was that kind of a slip!
Then there is the married couple where one writes thrilling books which should be made into a movie, and the other is passionate in saving dogs, and animals in general, showing me that we needn't be close geographically to be close...
There's the one across the Atlantic... the one with the big heart...
I must mention the one who writes, performs, records, and produces music that Marillion would be proud to perform, I'm sure. A brilliant person, and hopefully a future musical partner.
There is the one who takes these fantastic pictures whenever at a concert, willingly sharing the results to the real nut-crackers of the group...for them to have a nice picture above their beds.
There is the one who enabled my adventures to start, by creating Marillion Lyrics Day... I got all these friends that day. And to tell this person that I'm incredibly thankful is not enough...hence this entry.
Last, and most importantly, there is the one I feel I have known my entire life. This person is so brilliant and so kind, so beautiful and so incredibly including that I have no words.

And just when you think you're alone in the world, feeling the solitude devour... one of them cracks a joke forcing life into balance again.

I met these people through Marillion. Can anyone really afford to not be a part of this kind of magic?
Marillion are releasing an album now, called "Sounds That Can't Be Made". Click on the link at the top, the album is stunning, and if you have any musical intelligence, you'll order a copy :-)

I am continuing to make new friends through the music that powers my heart, slowly finding my true identity, finding my soul piecing itself together to the full, un-shattered whole.

Can I answer the question I asked earlier?
Who am I?
Well, I am a part of the Marillion family, and that is a truth that makes me so proud.

Truth and duality

Truth and duality are two concepts we constantly discuss in class.
And at this point, in my own search for identity, I feel that the more I learn, the less I know, and the more I desperately want to learn and know... about truth, identity and the deep fathoms of the mind.

The Stange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde deals with the hidden in the human psyche, the hidden in houses, the hidden in the fog, the hidden in power, the hidden in lies and the hidden in truth.
My course is called Madness and Writing, and believe me when I say that it lives up to its name. I constantly find myself at the brink of reality, at the edge of truth and by the cliffs of lies... obviously reading the syllabus, but I just recognized how strangely at home I feel borderline sanity and insanity, diving deep into discussions on what's visible and what's not...

The universal search for identity, that's what this really is about.
Who are we?
Who am I?
Finding identity and standing tall, in the western world, is mostly not a challenge... yeah, can be discussed, eh? But certainly not as challenging as if you were, say, a gay man in the Victorian London, and a gay man hidden inside a pillar of the society... You had no chance, you would have to conceal the truth from the world, from the surroundings, and from the self. The search for true identity becomes a different one, completely.
Keeping up appearances was the only thing that mattered, not loosing face, not loosing dignity or social standings. Hiding the feminine sides, in all aspects, became a self preservation, and staying within strict rules in society became the little death.
From a modern point of view, Mr. Hyde is Doctor Jekyll's gay, mad, crazy, murderous alter-ego.
When he is Doctor Jekyll, he's the kept together, well thought of, contributor to society and beautiful to look at. However, on the inside he's unhappy. He feels constricted and bound.
When he's Mr. Hyde, he's almost an ab-human character. He's hideous, small and vicious, but he feels great, deliberated almost.
Looking at his own reflection in the mirror becomes a conflicting and frustrating experience for the free Mr. Hyde. What he sees in the mirror is not mirroring what he feels on the inside. But which of them represents the truth?

We do like to think that we have come a long way today, that we accept any kind of identity in others, but the truth... lies... somewhere else, I think. We are just as constricted, restrained, and afraid of the unknown as we've always been.
And how can we search for any kind of truth when we always will see the truth from where we are standing? Truth for me, may be lies for you, presenting the question with a duality making it close to impossible to give a truthful answer.
Further, how can we understand why people make choices for their lives that everyone, including the one making the choices, knows are bad ones? Why can't we just make the good choice and be happy? Why can't we just make sensible and wise choices for our lives?
Could it have anything to do with the search for identity again?
Most of us (and now I'm talking about the people who have a certain moral compass, and just tries to get to one side of the sun to the other in one piece) come with a built in sense of right and wrong. We come with a feeling of who we are, who we might turn out to be, we come with a feeling of our own identity. Those of us who have children will know that the strength the little baby showed is something he or she brings along as they grow up. Some of us were stubborn, determined and happy as children, and can find a piece of that lingering on as grown-ups. Sometimes we might feel we became a person we don't always recognize. Sometimes we might react in a strange and unexpected manner in new (or even old) situations, and scare ourselves...normality cracking up, feeling a stranger in a familiar life. And sometimes we will find that everything turned out just as we thought when we were seven and fantasized about what grown-up life would be like.

We all have a sense of duality in us, a Doctor Jekyll and a Mr. Hyde, an angelic and a demonic side to our identity, and which ever side gets to dominate has to do with the experiences on the road towards identity and truth...

British at heart

Yesterday I spent with one of my best friends.

I am really no athletic nutter (I mean, I like to exercise and all, I even danced ballet back in the day, but no athletic nutter). But I am a UK nutter, so when the Olympics extravaganza comes to London, I probably ought to watch the opening ceremony, eh? Well, my dear friend didn’t want to, and I’m OK with that. Further, because my friend is very important to me, I decided I could watch the re-run.

We had a splendid evening last night, we watched Kick-Ass and Hellboy, the golden army, we ate a lot of calories and talked a lot of shit, and enjoyed the evening immensely.

Re-run… Did I mention it started at 0530 in the morning? Our national channel, NRK, probably didn’t have the time to air it at reasonable hour because the games have started…and the competition is really why they have the opening ceremony?

Why didn’t you stream it from online Telly? - you might ask… Well, today it’s absolutely impossible to open the computer without getting all the top news splashed in your face, the Olympic opening ceremony being top news… and I wanted the suspense on who lit the Olympic flame. 

Was it The Doctor?

So, I promised another brilliant friend to log off all social medias and keep silent until I had seen the whole thing. I didn’t even wait for my friend’s reply, finding out whether he thinks I’m a complete nutter or not 

I am, though… He’s fine with it, I think…

I went to bed, slept for three hours, and got up at 0525 and turned on my TV.

When I make a promise, I try to keep it, and I am crazy…

The exploring scene directed by Danny Boyle was brilliant and had me in tears before the opening ceremony was five minutes old. It might have been because I was deadly tired at the time, but I think it was because it was properly epic and because Kenneth Branagh was in it.

And then, when the Olympic rings are, sort of, defined,
 they cut to James Bond…

And Daniel Craig, mmm. He escorts The Queen, Elizabeth the second in character as herself, to the Olympic Stadium.
 Now, obviously she didn’t take the dive from the plane, but it was a nice twist. 
And to know that this is the only time she has been an “actress” tells me that The Olympics are important to her as well (mind you, at the ceremony she didn’t look very amused, but I’m choosing to believe she was nonetheless).

A choir of children sang her song, which was cute.

But it was when Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells sounded across the stadium that I thought; now we’re talking.

Presented as monsters hiding under the bed we got to meet Cruella DeVil, Captain Hook, The Child Capturer and Voldemort, as J. K. Rowling read from Peter Pan… and to chase Voldemort away, many Mary Poppins came down from the sky, clearing the monsters away from under the bed.

Mike Oldfield gave the stage to London Symphony Orchestra and Vangelis…and Mr. Bean. Priceless  Rowan Atkinson really is one of my favourite Brits! 

Then a love story between two young people was presented, aided by the fantastic popular musical history Britain can look back on and be proud of. Bands and artists like The Beatles, The Who, Eric Clapton, Ziggy Stardust, Sex Pistols, Eurithmics, Frankie, Amy Winehouse and Muse set the scene as they danced their way into each other’s arms, and showed how beautiful social networks can be… lol…

But the most beautiful and tearful moment was when they remembered the dead. Remembered the victims of terror. A wonderful performance of Abide With Me, and powerful dance… fantastic. 

Now, in small glimpses we've seen the Olympic torch being carried across the country. I spotted many well known and less known faces, and I spotted a national pride and a national joy at the whole thing. I know there has been criticism, but when the spirit was presented like this, one has to wonder why. 

So, the torch was on its way, David Beckham's role had to be substantial, driving a boat...fast...taking the torch to its next bearer. 

The presentation of the 202 countries participating in the Olympic games took its time, but it was awesome. And what's special about these games is that every single country has female competitors. Now that is a step in the right direction. 

I was not impressed by the band who performed after the march of the countries... Arctic Monkeys, they were out of tune, seriously out of tune, and I'm no fan of singing out of tune when you don't need to. I know at least one band who would stay in pitch, but they are touring Scandinavia at the moment...

The lighting of the flame, my reason for getting up in the middle of the night, was it The Doctor? 

It wasn't.
The youth of sports carried the torch, both literally and metaphorically, and lit the flame. And though I thought The Doctor couldn't change his own personal timeline, I'm sure he did so that this reality became the truth...
 Being a mother, I recognize the symbolysm. And there is something incredibly symbolic in passing the torch on to our children. So if The Doctor is who I think he is, he made this happen. 

And I have never been more proud to be British at heart.