Tag Archives: Love

The city of Luxembourg

Luxembourg is a fun little town.  It has a huge valley, which has long been used as a strategical defense against attackers by many different armies. In 963, Count Siegfried occupied the area to defend his wealth. Since then, it has grown into one of the strongest fortresses of Europe, acquiring the status of ‘Gibraltar of the North’. It has been occupied by the Spanish, the French, the Austrians, the Germans, the Dutch and now the Luxembourgish. It’s military capacities, including some of the fortress buildings and lots of underground corridors called ‘casemates’ have been dismantled after the second Treaty of London in 1867. To avoid future usage of the city for war. That makes the city slightly less impressive to see than it used to be, but it’s still pretty cool. There are great views.

The most significant era for Luxembourg was the period between 1308 and 1437, when the powerful House of Luxembourg occupied vast parts of Europe, including the city of Prague, Hungary and Poland to compete with the house of Habsburg, which ultimately took over years later. Through strategic weddings, I suppose.

After the peace treaty of the late 1800’s, Luxembourg has joined the industrial revolutions. It is now building a significant part of its economy on banking. As a tax haven, that remains on a strategic position on the continent of Europe, it is now attracting head offices of companies such as Amazon and Skype. Meaning there are lots of rich people between the traditional Luxemburgians. That last group, speaking Luxembourgish, have a more down-to-earth attitude, but also quite some money. After all, unemployment in this country is low.

Perhaps related to the earlier dismantlement of the ‘little burrow’, the city of Luxembourg has become one of the cornerstones of the European Union, as it has been one of its founding members. You could argue that where Luxembourg was once a symbol of war, it has now become a symbol of peace.

The city has an expanding Christmas market. On several spots in town, it is now full of those little wooden stands with fake snow flying around, and romantic lights and Christmas trees. They sell various types of glühwein, cheese fondue and many other foods and beverages, including the typically Luxembourgish gromperekichelchen. Plus a huge amount of Christmas gifts. The kind we need to express our love for each other. It gets extremely crowded here in the weekend.

I am lucky that all of my old friends and family are around and available. We talk a bit about our latest news and stroll between the crowd. It’s usually difficult to see the charm of your home place, especially if you grew up there. But the longer you’re gone the easier it gets. Especially around this time of the year.



Why spiritual talk has the same root as economic talk

It turns out I crave for rationality. I’m even sad about the lack of it. Now. I see chains on people who declare themselves free. Cuffs on my wrists. We are failing on all fronts, because we could not find the exit on time. Or maybe I read too many Logicomix.

I wouldn’t straight away state that Nussbaum was wrong when she said that emotions carry important messages. They might. They probably do. No, I agree with her. It’s not for nothing that I just dug her up from my past convictions. But to blindly follow emotions is a different thing…

Anyhow, that’s not what I was going to talk about. You see, I have a fulltime job as a commercial writer now, and that has made this blog into a haven. I don’t need to care about pleasing my readers anymore. Not that I ever did. And of course I still do. But this is where I’m free. Part of me, anyhow. So I say what I want to. Ha!

No. What I wanted to talk about, or at least what triggered me to return here is once again the fact that people believe things. Two things in particular: purpose and growth. Why are we here? To grow. Become stronger. Improve. Yes. We improve.

You see, it turns out that I tend to surround myself with people who hold some kind of spiritual belief. Both my parents were into esoteric shit, my sister likes shamans. One by one, my friends convert to something. Parts of myself are trying to make me believe I’m some kind of sage in a silly society. As within, so without?

We all seem so certain. Have you heard it? Things happen for a reason. We may not always know the reason, but there is one. Really. It helps us become who we are.

But hold on. Step back. Sure, there might be a reason, yet there might be none. The truth is we don’t know. Even if the angels tell us, how can we be sure that they know? That is, once we’re sure they’re not a delusion. We cannot be sure that they do or don’t, clearly, that is far beyond us, Where that puzzle may not be a puzzle.

Surely, this fight concerns myself, mostly. It’s me struggling with my tendency to believe. I’d love to say and be certain, like I used to, that our paths are laid out, that all we have to do is sit back and walk them. Learn. Ingest the info, the experience. Fulfill and die. Yet I’m back with my old, even younger self. The mindful critic. You may say so, but you cannot know and you should accept that. In fact, the reason why you say things, is because others did before you.

So I want to plant a seed. What if nobody takes care of that seed? It dies. A death of abandonment. How many did? How many have simply perished? How many never had a child? Infinite. All of us in many ways. With a purpose? None we’d ever know about. Knowledge into oblivion.

Yet what of growth? Isn’t that what it’s about? Certainly. And what if not? Are we caterpillars emerging into butterflies emerging into spirits emerging into memories emerging into the infinite for eternity? Is that learning? It may be. It may not. More likely it’s neither.

That’s where I miss most. It may not. There’s no way around it. It’s right in front of us yet so few seem to look at it. Live it. Sooner or later we will die. Spirit faded when it got a voice, I’d say. And I would probably be wrong. I’d probably not even exist if I did. Say. My imaginary sanctuary behind this screen, probably an illusion. I’ll believe in it for now, knowing I can’t be sure.

Am I really the only one who sees this parallel? Probably not. Nor do I feel alone in it, in fact. Just a little misunderstood at times. Sure. There is a place and a time where growth exists. But to say it goes on forever… Only economists and spiritualists do that. Where will they end up, I wonder. Nowhere, likely, because they are little different than I. And I’m not going anywhere. Or I may be seduced. Unknowingly. Guess it’s better that way.


There’s another emotion I’d like to describe, but don’t know a name for. At the time I am writing this down, I haven’t found the right word yet, so I’m going to try to squeeze it out by writing this text. Surround it. Catch it. Become it. Look at it from a distance. As if some part of my mind yet has to travel to that point, a light perhaps, where it has crystallized.

It’s a high tension emotion which, in my case, only arises from the interaction with another human. An interaction with high charge. The emotion comes afterwards, when, in an upcomming surge, the conversation starts playing back inside my head. When it rises in between me and my thoughts, hijacks them and blinds me from what’s happening around.

There are three clear moments when this can happen in my case: after an argument or a fight, when I have a crush on someone, and as occurred recently, when I have a job interview. There’s always a question involved. A fight can leave me puzzled about the question ‘who is right?’. The anger fuels this, and causes me not to think clearly. In the turbulence, I construct a frame of thoughts that makes me right, and makes me feel better about myself. Then I start wondering how I can relate back to the other person. Solve it. All that time, I’m dominated by this same emotion.  Having a crush is similar, but the life-dependent question there is: “does she like me back?”. Whatever that may mean. Very important, obviously, so there come the thoughts that interpret the conversation during the recent date in my favour, and there goes the focus on anything else. Job interviews, might objectively have an impact on my life, but they trigger the same mechanism. Did I say this right? Was I spontaneous enough? Should I have added more information here? Was I too quick? To jovial? Still didn’t hear if they hired me, by the way, but the emotion has faded by now.

What I want to describe, find a word for, is the gooey structure of this emotion, which I notice if I want to break it. For example, when I want to get to work. It’s so viscous, that when I arrive at a point where I can concentrate, it undermines that, lurking me back into its useless rambling. And particularly when I fight it, it can cause electric bursts of panic in my heart or shoulder, or right under my belly button. But surrendering to it doesn’t release its grip either: it fuels it. Regardless of how I relate to it, it passes with time. As a falling tide.

It’s a bit like being submerged by a flood of mental syrup, really. My functional mind moves slowly and with a lot for force, working itself into being stuck in a new position. There seems to be a lot going on, but in fact I’m stuck in a sticky cloud of anxieties. Think I’ll call it subsyrupism. As in, “I’m feeling very subsyruped” today. Or: “she can’t hear you, she’s subsyruped.”  Yes, that works. Good. Subsyruped it is.

Everything that’s wrong with personal computers

Okayokayokayokayokay. Yes. I owe the fact that you’re reading this to the same personal computers I’m about to abolish. I’m sure there’s a great deal of good coming from them. And I mean PC’s, laptops and smartphones as well. But before we as society have completely disappeared inside our close companions, let’s take a little step back to look at the damaging part of computers and our relationships with them.

They’re flat (even the yoga-ones)
Some days ago, I flew over Paris at night, and for the first time in my life recognized a city by its lights, while flying above it. Then I thought that it seemed as though I was looking at google maps. Then I thought of how much this didn’t look like google maps at all. Very much. Real life is so incredibly more striking than the screen, even if you have to stretch your neck into a cramp to perceive it through a tiny airplane window. Suddenly seeing the Champs-Élysées with my own eyes reminded me of that.

They demystify
In real life, miracles are something you cherish, something exceptional, something that feeds the life inside you, something you breathe. Building a friendship for example. Computers give us access to an endless flow of cute cats, beautiful women, great inventions and unlikely basketball points. But they’re not special! You will never see someone on the street or even in a theatre dance as well as you saw them on youtube, or hear a better song. So we keep watching, turning the exceptional into the norm, and making the normal unattractive. Seemingly unattractive.

They hypnotize
Yes. I’m fairly sure that there’s actual hypnotization going on when we face a screen. Why else is it hard to stand up and walk away? Computers, with all their imagery, sounds and repetition hook us stronger than Coca Cola ever did. What’s more, I believe that working with several tabs or windows at once, actually fragments our minds. It creates the feeling of having a pile of tasks to attend to. That causes stress. Anxiety. It scatters your attention. As if you’re talking to a hundred people at once. O, wait, you are.

They make mistakes (and you get the blame)
Some say machines don’t make mistakes. Well, sloppy programs sure do (not that I can write them better). In the past months, I have spent at least a week on phone and e-mail to correct wrong transactions, fix technical issues and create new categories for my particular case. If more and more of our data get registered and uploaded, that means that more and more of them get mixed up in some administrative system, which bounces it on to the next. And as the gear wheels of those machines keep turning, they suck our identities in untill we’re completely stuck. And of course we’re not the ones to benefit from that, we just have to fix it. More than anything, it’s a problem for elderly people, who are already in deep water when it comes to the digital status quo.

They disempower
To give an example: some say social media give people the chance to bypass the traditional media which are controlled, edited and censored by an elite. It has been true for places where censorship was high. For a bigger part, however, social media follow the already established entities, who know perfectly well what to say and how to build their capital of followers. Indeed, the algorithms of social media have the weak feed the strong. A new capitalism of attention. The big ones casting shadows over the small who hope to be heard, but are silenced by the noise of their soulmates. Thus, they waste time in virtual life.


Ha! Writing this makes me sound old. Yet I always had my reservations (and attractions) to computers. It is clearer to me again, now, how important it is to take time off the screen. Watch the brightness of the sun. Smell the smog on the streets. Hurt my head on a low ceiling I didn’t know before. And luckily, that actually works. Joy cannot be injected through the eyes. It arrives when you are in motion, rushes through your veins when your heart pumps wildly. Spring is coming.

Return to the core

At the end of the 4th year of my blog, this is my 200th post. Had I kept the weekly posting up for the past months, I’d have had an average of a post per week. I’m just short of that now, but that’s fine.

When I started this blog, early 2012, I intended to write a pathway into my own subconscious. Digging into darkness and light, expressing it by doing. I also intended to experiment with writing, get myself into the flow. Try out some styles, do interviews, poems, ramblings, short stories and testimonies of my adventures in life.

As I wrote about love, hate, social injustice and the limitations of the mind, as I condemned superficiality and took part in it, the desire to be recognized grew. I could see viewer and follower statistics. I discovered tricks that increased my readership and secretly hoped that one day, independent blogging might become my livelihood. But tricks result in temporary pulses, and Sailing on Dreams did not gradually expand in the way I hoped it would. This became a struggle, I put an effort in making the content more interesting, but discovered that joining trends had more effect. The amount of people who read my blog seemed unrelated to the quality of my articles as I perceived it, but far more linked to the effort I put in attraction. That was, possibly still is, the strongest disillusion I have had as a blogger.

Assuming that good work promotes itself, I started to wonder if my work was good enough. Is the blog’s title too pretentious? Does it miss the match with what I actually write about? Does it work against my words? Do I create the impression of being ungrounded? Is the work itself ungrounded? Not developed enough? Are the topics boring? Am I using bad English? Have I milked myself too far? Am I wrong?

Meanwhile, the lack of real breakthrough in my career and some concerning geopolitical developments grew onto me as a darkening cloud. Some of the stories became darker, too. And who wants to read sad, negative recountings? I usually don’t. But yes, I did get positive feedback from dear friends, and even from strangers. Also a single quite painfully negative one from a friend. Still, it seems as if some people were touched by some of my work. And I did realise that it were never the numbers that mattered, but the motion when touching each others’ souls.

I stopped using that word. Soul. What does it mean, after all? Its smurf-intensity is gi-normous. And it turned into cliché. Trying to be original, I have learned to despise repetition. But repetition gives structure. Stability. Accountability. And the sound of the word soul is good. It comes from deep. It hits breath-bottom.

Perhaps I forgot to find the magic in my words. Judged their enchantment as something self-centred, narcissistic. Perhaps I saw through my own marketing, and lost the capacity to convince myself.  The capacity to surrender to the dreams I sail. In attracting the invisible you, I sometimes forgot about  me.

As I did before in this time of year, now, for my 200th post, I find it time to return to the original intention of this blog. To recalibrate. I still think that in its spark, this blog has the right aim. Some of the series I wrote, such as the words for emotions, tuned into that well. The desire for readership fundamentally does not match that intention, and yet I could not ignore it. The expansion of the original intention towards ‘persociety’, as an attempt to dive into our collective subconscious was also good, as it possibly made the texts more relevant. But the fact that the collective subconscious of the modern west hides some very dark aspects is clearly not popular. I can imagine that exploring it that way, even if playfully, could feel like an accusation of the innocent public. But if that’s where I want to go, then that’s where I will be. Digging tunnels, in the cavities of the internet, sharing happily with those few souls I meet down here.

Thirty years ahead in life, 200 posts on my blog. On the threshold of 2016. You can divide that number by two for five times. Where this year will lead I don’t know. For what it’s worth, it will not stop me from rambling.


If you talk about economic goals, people say “hmm…” and nod gravely. They perfectly know what you mean. The ideal of earning money, usually the kind of which we are all victims. But if you think about it for a moment, economic goals can (and should) be far more complex than that. Are we talking about long-term goals? Selfish economic goals or the more sustainable kind? Goals that support economic growth, or goals that support economic stability? With the possible exception of economists, people generally don’t quickly ask such questions. That it because the word economy has quite a high smurf-intensity: its definition is unclear, and yet people understand each other when they use it.

Smurfs can smurf smurfs and smurf exactly what other smurf smurfs. This is part of their smurf, because they are used to using the word smurf all the time and look deeper into its meaning. We humans are not smurfs, or at least we don’t seem to be, but have a certain capacity to do the same. The problem for us is, that the meaning of a word with a high smurf-intensity depends on the subculture we find ourselves in.

The word ‘love’ has a cosmic smurf-intensity. It’s a word everyone has a strong connection to, and everyone has a personal definition for. One calls it partnership, the other friendship, another calls it passion, someone else thinks of it as community and yet one more describes it as a divine rush. But if we talk about love, people generally don’t feel a strong need to truly define the word. There is a silent mutual acceptance of the differences in understanding, and the impossibility to pin it down.

Words that are slightly less smurf-intense have this silent agreement only within specific communities. At the same time, they bind and define the community in which they are used. Take the word “energy”. That’s a great adhesive for the New Age communities. A sentence like “this place has great energy”, says something about a place, but it also sets the identity of the person who uses the word. This is a person who explicitly understands the world in flows and vibrations. Subtly using the word energy in this sentence affirms this person is  part of this culture. Only people from within that community truly get the sentence.

People from outside such communities are often quickly annoyed, precisely by smurf intense words and precisely because of that high smurf intensity. The words God and Allah are good examples. Many people spend much effort attempting to dismantle them. They do so in the name of truth, but miss out on the bigger picture: the community they would tear apart if they were to succeed. This also highlights another property of smurf intense words: within the community they have immunity to the kind of criticism that threatens its understanding as existing beyond the imagination. This means that being overly critical on smurf-intense words typically excludes you from the community in which it is smurfed.

Pointing at a word’s smurf intensity during a debate is an effective technique to divert an argument. As an example, you could answer the statement: “It really is becoming time that humans protect nature.” with “well, humans are part of nature”. The second speaker has broadened the definition of nature, and the first speaker now has to spend effort finding more precise wording. By that, speaker one loses terrain in the battle. A typical weakness of using smurf intense words.

The use of smurf-intense words can also distinguish the expert from the amateur. Biologists among themselves would never speak of ‘biological’ phenomena, because that’s far to broad. They would specify if they are speaking about cellular processes, animal physiology or ecology, for example. At the same time, a sentence such as, ‘well that’s just my biology’ is meaningful among all other people. In this case, avoidance of a word with a high smurf intensity may indicate above average knowledge on the meaning of the word.

Smurf intense words are the big fish of the verbal sphere. Using them successfully helps you speak to a broad public. At the same time, you risk being misunderstood because of the innumerable interpretations it causes. But every word has a certain smurf intensity. Being aware of the smurf intensity of a word can help you take a distance  from it, and worry less about its roots in reality. This way, you can take a look and appreciate that high smurf intensity can be a cozy and innocent thing.


People sometimes use the word education when in fact they mean brainwashing. I’m quite sure that most people who do that are not aware of the fact that they do so because they have been brainwashed themselves.

An example: “We should put more funding in education of African countries so that they can build a democracy from the bottom up”. Great idea, but how would this look in practice? Money would go to certain organizations, monitored by their funders according to Western standards. They would employ people to build education programs, benchmarked along Western thought, then train people to teach the deep truths that stand at the base our beautiful democracy, powered solely by light and guided by the highest ethics. Then, at the end, of course, they are checked for optimal performance.

Such structures provided by nation states are often seen as education. Mandatory programs, packages of concepts, knowledge that is transferred and tested, ranking the students into their overseeable life paths, may lift society to a different standard, but they are only a limited part, a controllable bit, of a collective learning process that could also be tuned to enlivening, respect and curiosity-driven exploration of whatever it is that the human mind is eager to find out. I would say real education starts at the point where teacher and student receive the space and the freedom to show each other their views on reality in all its colours.

Transmission of knowledge is important, but we should honour the pathway through which this occurs. That pathway would in my view be called mutual trust. The possibility that another might see something out there which you don’t, not because he or she is more or less capable or suitable to see it, but merely because that other stands on a different position. Exams and profiles undermine such trust.

To translate this back to the omnipotent West, perhaps indeed, there was a time when our long fought for ideals made sense and empowered society at large. But these ideals are starting to take the form of dogmas, heritage we should protect and keep in place with tighter rules and regulations. Our knowledge is growing old, expiring, starting to fail us and begging for fresh inputs from the same societies we have kept in the enlightened dark for centuries.

And yet more importantly, I think we should all allow our inner wise guys to sometimes shut up and listen to the voice of the weak and silent for a change. The fact that we still understand education in a top-down way, taking all these quality checks for granted, shows us a whole lot about our status quos. If only we could see that in the mirror…

The good, the bad and the energy

Let´s talk about energy for a bit. I mean the cultural phenomenon, the modern version of aether. In particular the concept of positive energy versus negative energy. And I mean it in contexts such as: ´this guy has such negative energy´, or ‘wow, you can really feel the positive energy here’. I have a bit of an objection against this distinction, particularly the negative pole, because it legitimizes judgmental beliefs. I think it motivates people to believe in their own projections, and by that stimulates the construction of their own mental cage.

The reason why I bring this up, is that the belief in spiritual energy is often seen as an emancipation from the religious dogmatic thought. Heaven and hell are let go because they are seen as a design to blind us from the truth. But if that truth is that you should follow positive energy and avoid negative energy so that you can reach nirvana and leave this semi-damned existence, then I don´t think much as changed.

What would you think if I told you that there is positive fire and negative fire? Good water and bad water? Sacred air and evil air? Perhaps you´d laugh, or perhaps you´d think I mean the level of pollution of a pond or a city street. Or maybe you´d say that it all depends on the intensity of these elements. Their pressure. I don´t think you would think that I mean that those elements are somehow negative.

Okay, so what if we assume that people who talk about negative energy mean to say that the energy is polluted? In many cases they probably do. My question would be: what is the energy polluted with?

It is an important one to answer, I think, because we´re talking about a medium here that, in my view, is easily coloured by our thoughts and emotions. That´s how a stressed person causes an emotional sandstorm just by walking into a room with people, or how a little kid can fill the hearts of many with delight. You would have to be quite trained or at least very sensitive to distinguish the level of pollutedness of the energy from the impact of your own emotionally charged perception on that energy.

I think that most often when people get negative vibes from someone, what they actually perceive is an incompatibility of their emotions with those of another person. I would explain this by differences in energy pressure. When an active person meets someone who´s tired for example, it can be quite irritating for both. That doesn´t mean that either one has negative energy. With a bit of willpower from both ends, such pressure differences can be easily overcome.

Energy could also be perceived as negative when it triggers a fear or discomfort. In my case that´s most often the fear of the unknown or the fear of being manipulated. It could also be the fear of not being accepted or the fear of pain or death. But being afraid of something doesn´t mean that this thing is harmful to you. And even if it is, harm will be healed.

What I guess I want to say is that classifying aspects of life as negative immediately makes you miss out. It is closing your own doors to life. I do believe that real, deep experiences of energy can be an intimate, revelatory thing with potential to give direction to life. By all means, attend to them as they come.

On Reincarnation

People usually assume that I believe in reincarnation. I don’t. I believe reincarnation is a hopeful thought that propagates itself through the noosphere, fuelled by the fear of disappearance of whatever people believe to be themselves.

Reincarnation presumes incarnation and excarnation of an individual spirit in a body. To me, there’s no sharp separation between the two. That is not to say that I don’t believe in ghosts, past life memories, visions of the future or out-of-body experiences, but I interpret them differently. My outlook on space, time and life differ, I believe, from the status quo of, let’s call it Western Reincarnation Theory. I think it’s an interesting topic, so I’ll try to explain my point of view here, starting with some examples.

Let’s start with ghosts, they’re one of the trickiest subjects. Haunted houses, dead people walking or even just the feeling that something heavy is trying to tell you something, but you can’t quite catch what it is. Some perceive it, others don’t. To me, ghosts are a charge, released by a living person during their lifetime. It can be mental, emotional or spiritual, so let’s just call it a psychosomatic charge. Imagine Lonely Jack, who constantly sits in his living room, complaining to himself about the woman he never had, the job he missed and the choices he never made. I believe this guy can leave a footprint on his living room for as long as he’s alive. Then, once he’s dead, new inhabitants could still perceive this footprint as a ghost.

Would that footprint be self-conscious? One might ask. My answer would be: only to the extent to which the complaining is self-conscious, which is not that much at all. I don’t believe that the charge is Lonely Jack himself, I’d say it’s what he’s left behind. Then again, I do believe it is possible to send extracts of awareness into, for example, the furniture we possess, and make it look back at you. Or at another, when you’re not around. We can charge our surroundings with thoughts the way our surroundings can charge us with thoughts. Thus, some parts of us can live on. If others interact with those they empower them, and the bits of us empower those who interact.

Another typical proof for reincarnation and the separation between body and soul is the memory of past lives. The reasoning: since I experienced being in the past, apparently “I” have lived past lives. I value the occurrence of such experiences, but they don’t necessarily point to reincarnation. I see them as bridges between eras. Between lives if you will. Like meeting someone in the tram, but different. Sometimes, psychosomatic charges find their way through “wormholes” in such a strength that they invoke the “I” sensation upon the perceiver. To me, they really are just messages from the past with relevance for the listener of today. Think about it this way: you were a different person as a kid, but the aspect of “I” hasn’t changed. Ask the oldest person you know about this, and he or she will tell you there’s no difference between being old and being young. Nevertheless, all molecules have alternated time after time, lessons have been learned and forgotten, and the body has evolved and worn out. Throughout a single lifetime, we are many different people, but we don’t perceive it that way. Then why is it so hard to believe that temporarily being a different person would feel differently than being yourself?

The topic of future visions is similar. I believe that the general consensus there is that they are impossible, yet if they occur, they pass through the spirit world , mediated by beings who reside there because they have reincarnated many times. I believe the moment or vision that is foreseen is simply very psychosomatically charged, and therefore radiates back in time. Perhaps the meaning gives the charge, and the need for meaning on the other side the attraction. Metaphysical pressure differences, so to speak.

Out of body experiences? To me they are instants of high psychosomatic charge in the body, where the mind bridges space in the same way as it could bridge time. The fact that the people see and hear things in this different space, I believe, is a way for the mind to accommodate itself when away from the body. But I still think the phenomenon is powered by the life force inside the body of the one who perceives it as “him or herself being out of his or her body”.

So, if not in life after death, what do I believe in? I believe that there’s only one core soul, which is hidden deep inside all of us. Time, space and basically all rules an limits we take for granted are expressions of that soul. I think it created them all for fun. So are our bodies. Without our bodies, we would just be that one soul, undivided and forever, free from the illusions of existence we’ve created all around us. We are borrowing our bodies, our spirits and our minds from this big shared illusion, and when we die we give what we borrowed back.

Don’t ask me how that would feel by the way, I wouldn’t know.

True sis’ first kiss

Spoiler alert. On two recent occasions, namely Frozen and Maleficent, the makers of Disney have diverted our notion of true love from ‘protective prince charming’ to ‘protective loving sister’. Are those attempts to break with an age-old tradition?

Let’s face it: ever since Disney’s feature-length movies arose, most of them ended with a wedding. Sure, there have been exceptions. Dumbo liberated himself from the public opinion and the Fox and the Hound painfully discovered how predisposed societal roles can divide friends, but generally, Disney’s protagonists have lived happily ever after.

You’re not an outcast anymore if you state that Disney has tricked generations into the ideal of getting married by highlighting only the exiting road towards the encounter with the other half. Perhaps the writers of these films have sensed this critique. Maybe they agreed with it. Of course, Pixar winked at this given with the Shrek sequels, where the trails and tribulations of marriage came up, but even that didn’t truly address the decreasing interest for being together in general.

In a society where individuality is more pronounced than ever and romances fail over and over again, it was about time that the film industry came up with better plots than the eternal story of romance. Emphasizing the powerful bond between women may well have been the wisest thing to do. If you look at the amount of sisterselfies that flows by on Facebook and Instagram, you would surely buy the idea that sisterhood is the new societal ideal.

The only way to face this, guys, is if we form a warm global collective of loving brothers. But let’s not fool ourselves: people are far more likely to look at our pictures when they have a girl on them, so the battle is already lost. Besides, we western men are far too independent to define our image by pictures of our fellows. We are slayers, and slayers work alone.

Which raises another point: have you ever seen a Disney tale where a man is promised redemption after ‘true love’s first kiss?’ Men are free by definition. They have to turn the force of evil to liberate the woman and earn her love. They could rescue any other woman if they wanted to, but they happen to have chosen the female protagonist. Therefore, ending a Disney film with a curse-lifting brother’s kiss would be less credible, and probably feel less liberating than these recent girly storlyline twists. By letting women save women, Disney answers to a growing independance. In this story, men are perhaps less usefull, but as free as ever.

I still don’t know a single Disney film where the princess rescues the prince. Wouldn’t that be laughable?