Dear Editor E-Book

Bianca Ute Stanke

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 127

Beschreibung

'Dear Editor' is a collection of essays and poems that delve into the essence of being human. From navigation the ups and downs of healing to breaking free from societal constraints, these pages explore identity, vulnerability, belonging, trauma, love and self-worth. To name a few. It is a celebration of choosing authenticity every day. An intimate exploration of humanity within. 'Dear Editor' creates connection by inviting the reader into finding their personal 'how to' of small steps towards a life that gives more meaning and movement to ones individual circumstances. The book comes with a relatable, universal, up to date and fresh focus on resources available at all times.

Leseprobe

Thank you!

If writing would be a person:

You saved my life.

Collaboration

Rewrite

Proofreading

Launch

Table of Contents

Collaboration

Coming home

Being heardand the direction of jealousy

The gift of a safe place

Being part of something bigger than me

Being grateful

Mixed emotions

Focus

Traveling the world

A miracle-like memory

What only hearts can see

Challenges and our resources

Mental freedom

Impact

What makes you feel?

With open eyes

Inspiration

A colourful life

Music

Coming in touch

Flow

They want to be felt

Writing styles

Another piece

Limiting beliefs

Being ready

Heavy treasure

Assets

The mirror responsibility

The necessity to feel them both

Beyond precious

Rewrite

This year

Tough change

Identity

Loss and Sesame Open

Somwhere.Someone Who.Relates

The little life of mine

Soulmates

Effort

Learning to be subtle

Finding connection in the art of beauty

A simple embrace

Tired of being human

Taking action

Outside the box

Cost of living

Taking chances

Being stuck

Flying

Shoes and passion

Celebrating

The longest novel

The road trip of my life

Connection

The Work of an Artist

Self-awareness

Growth and beauty

The invitation

Leaving

Disfellowshipped

Hunger for life

Infinity placed in the heart

Change happens

Oh, hell, yes

Exploring

Daring to be an inspiration

Last year's seasons

The next corner

Change takes time

Becoming

Reaching out

Where life happens

Bucket list

Who says?

New beginnings

Proofreading

Pandora’s box

Being on stage

Triggers

The secret of setting boundaries

Empathy

Truth lies

Feeling so beautiful

Happiness in the bones

Fuzzy

Values

Changing thought patterns

Drama of Life

Brain talk

Past

Groundwork

Running

Anger

Vertigo

Life’s threats

Mental Health

Progress

Tuned in

Honesty

Go for it

Beliefs

Starving

Homeland

Survival Mode

Ever learning

Still learning

Areminder

Being loved

Unbelievable

Getting there

Where are my doors?

Finding my tribe

To cleanse a wound

Developments

Human

Go, girl!

Facing pain

Experiencing

Anew pathway

Launch

Protecting lies

Attached

The promise

Loves dimensions

Challenging the universe

Life can weigh us down

Goals joyride and done thinking

Getting a glimpse

Unconditional Love

Ages

Welcome to shine

Your longings name

The hardest battle

Breaking the circle

Trust

Shining

The big difference

On the same track

I’m fine

Strong

On my way

To happy beginnings

What it is about

Dear Reader,

These intimate letters talk about the ups and downs of healing; about the courage to become more of the person one actually is and wants to be. Without the short leashes of opinions, beliefs, or truths we hardly ever questioned in such a way before. These letters talk about inspiration and curiosity, joy and fear, and all those emotions in between. They talk about losing everything and building a new life from scratch. On top of it all, finding my very own definition of myself as a woman who happens to fall in love with a woman. Simply that.

These letters are about my way in, or rather out of a religious organisation that was my family for a lifetime. So, this book is also about identity, loss and gain; about being true to myself and what this means in daily life. It reflects on love, self-worth, achieving goals and letting go. It talks about grief and belonging, about being human in all its facets - naked, beautiful, genuine, and raw. This will be a lifelong edition. It’s about choosing to see beauty. It’s about making this choice every day a bit more often and making mental health a topic that is easy and rewarding to talk about.

P.S. I hope this book will be as much of a journey for you as it was for me. How could it not be? All you need is within you, and I am happy to share the secret identity of the Editor with you. He has many faces, and I cherish each and every one of them.

As humans, we are hardwired to connect with people around us - having someone we love and trust at our side. We need each other. To me, experiencing neglect on a scale of losing everyone I have ever loved, cared for and known, feels like living or rather sustaining life with a weak immune system. In order to not lose focus and to stay healthy, I promised myself to find a therapist that I could talk to once a month while I started the process of leaving my old life behind and beginning something new. It was the first or second time we met when the therapist said: “You should write a book about your life”. I realised I needed much more connection than just one hour a month could provide me with. So, here an idea, a necessity rather, started to grow.

The actual phrase “Dear Editor” was inspired by Lori Gottlieb, who wrote the book: “Maybe you should talk to someone”, and the weekly column “Dear Therapist”. In her TED talk, she pointed out that we have all written a kind of narrative of our lives. The way I understood it, is that sometimes small or big errors have crept in, trying to hold us back from seeing our potential and living a more authentic life. My life changed profoundly after finding someone to help me recognise my blind spots. Getting guidance to find the pathway to the exciting and fascinating persons we all actually are. Getting access to the life we want to live, and the kind of love we long to experience.

P.P.S. The “Editor” is a synonym for a therapist I shared my reflections with. Well, that is how it started. In hindsight, I realised, the Editor became more like a friend I shared my deepest thoughts with, my doubts, dreams and hopes, my progress, experiences and memories, and my joy and laughter. I shared with the Editor everything I learned and worked through - from a good book to a podcast, a TED talk, webinars, a trauma course, and whatever resources I could find to write a new chapter in my life. I would go so far as to say that the Editor is my safe place and a source within myself, containing all the information I have gathered throughout my life, ready for harvest.

In order to stay human and sound as much as possible, I created a connection at a time when no one else was available to talk to.

Who might be your Editor along your journey?

Collaboration

Coming home

Dear Editor,

It is one of these kinds of days that I consider a real luxury. No matter if it is storming outside or if the sun is shining with its golden arms through the tiny slits of the roller blinds:

Waking up, wearing, absorbing all the weight of facing my wounds. It feels like a blanket of molten lead is covering my skin, almost sculpting itself into the shape of my body. Only with the weight of steel. And here it is, the luxury:

Crawling out of bed at my very own pace of hurt. Bruised and beaten, raw. Just me and the healing. The luxury of licking my wounds without having to go into the cold outside of myself. For a day or two. This is what I am investing in myself. This is my way of recovery, of reviving my heart. It always was. Sometimes I share some of it with a white, unwritten sheet of paper, like now. Sometimes with a melody. Sometimes by breathing out my sighs. And sometimes by just doing nothing at all but brewing coffee and sipping it, like it is my personal prescription of medicine.

Maybe it is this priority that has been the best resource throughout my life. Connecting with myself again. Reclaiming my home.

My place to be. And reclaiming the kind of security that only comes from within. That real sense of security, the kind we only can provide ourselves with.

Being heard and the direction of jealousy

Dear Editor,

The last time we met, I recognised that it is a really beautiful way of being seen and heard and feeling understood: hearing all the thoughts back from the notes you take.

You do it so subtle as if it is a part of the conversation; just as we involve our body language without even thinking about it.

Having this chaos in my mind and feeling overwhelmed at times makes me think that I have no structure and no achievements and no direction. But hearing my own thoughts from someone, receiving them and hearing them out loud, without all the noise around, feels just comforting. Visible even.

And I simultaneously felt this little sting in my heart that shows me how much I miss writing. This kind of writing, that makes me feel energised and like I am touching a state of joy that seems so far away these days.

It’s like an old memory that makes one nod slightly and smile with just one corner of the mouth when you are thinking about it:

“Yeah, I remember that feeling, vaguely – I wonder if it even was that good.” But now, I know it for certain, it really was – because that sting showed me the direction.

The gift of a safe place

Dear Editor,

When I started writing these letters, I thought there might be three or four by the time I see you again. Wildly hoping for five or six. It gives me such a deep sense of living and purpose and growing. Allowing my feelings to express themselves like pupils in a class who raise their hands. Giving them the attention, they deserve, one after the other. Instead of hundreds of rubber balls bouncing inside of me. Gaining more and more power with every hurtful bump against the door of my innermost self. I wonder if you can relate to these inner bruises?

Just knowing these letters are received, once, at a safe place, gives them the liberating freedom to speak up.

Being part of something bigger than us

Dear Editor,

There were a couple of exhibitions I wanted to visit. And yet, I didn’t go to a single one. First, I thought it was because there are so many other things to do during summer. But I felt that there must be more to it. A couple of days ago, I accidentally found this announcement of an exhibition by an artist from Finland, Katriina Haikala. The exhibition is called Social Portrait and immediately caught my attention. She paints portraits of 1000 women from all over the world and invites people to watch her performance. The article I read states that she has already painted 800 of them. Imagine!

Just to see an artist during her process is so energising. I am not going to miss this one. It really excites me.

And it most certainly was an exciting, captivating, intimate and beautiful experience, being allowed to be part of this process. I had a thousand questions, they were just flying in. And this is something I am not quite good at, maybe my nervous system is already on high alert just by talking and listening to someone. Especially someone sympathetic, sensing shared values. Anyways. She wanted to make women feel seen and remembered. Watching her for two hours, drawing a variety of women, I’d say that she most definitely did exactly that. There was so much going on internally, one could sense that. This experience made me feel like I was part of something outstandingly meaningful. I love the idea of making a change with the tools one has.

I will now be part of an exhibition, 1 out of 1000 women who are not only being seen but also heard. It made an impact on all of us, and I am convinced it is going to be recognised. And, which is most important, we got a glimpse of what it means to recognise ourselves in the first place. I love being given the opportunity to speak up for all the women in the world in precisely this way.

Being grateful

Dear Editor,

It is still a strange feeling not having someone to thank when it comes to life’s miracles.

The sun shining, touching my skin like an embrace, a stunning autumn day in all its warm colours, listening to my favourite kind of music, laughter, the first sip of coffee, sitting in my hanging chair and all those million things worth being grateful for.

I do not remember much from my childhood. But I still remember lying in my bed and pulling the duvet over me. When you are around my age, you also might remember these huge, fluffy eiderdown quilts. They usually came in blue and red.

In this cosy, secret warmth I sang for hours, songs I didn’t really know, to a God or a person who just had to be there, ready to listen to my made-up melodies. I just had the need for connection, I guess. To share something, with someone. Under that same bed I one day almost started a fire because I was convinced that the teddy bear I had was freezing. When my parents later moved the bed, they just wondered for a blink of a second why there were black stains on the carpet.

And how I did love my walkie-talkie. Endlessly listening until late into the night to whoever was close enough to be within my little range. Just a few sentences here and there from the truck drivers passing our house. My first kind of 80s podcast – no wonder I still to this day feel more comfortable listening than talking.

Being grateful, I believe, is a beautiful way of being connected. I really should be more adventurous and inventive about it again.

Mixed emotions

Dear Editor,