I deleted my blog.
I deleted six years of blogging.
I deleted over 300 entries.
I let go.

It took a lot of time. As I removed the posts, individually,  I drank nettle and fennel thea, and let my eyes rest on the crisp white surface on the world outside these old windows. Chop wood. Fetch water.
Do what needs to be done.
If I learned anything in the forest it is this: do what needs to be done.
Even when you´re scared or have doubts or don´t really know what needs to be done, just push through, work hard with your hands, my hands where dancing over the keyboard, it was nice.
Kind of like chopping the head of a chicken. Definitive. Necessary.

I also deleted my facebook account but I´m still on instagram

It took me a lot of time to finally realize that what had once been liberating and creative had now become a cannonball tied to my wrist. Being stuck in a story. Tied to autofiction/creative fiction, the genre that has no ENDING.

See, stories cannot be like that. They need to have a beginning and an ending, you need to finish the chapters and close the book. Not because you´re constantly “reinventing yourself” (read: as if thats a bad thing) but because you CHANGE.
Everything changes all of the time. That´s the second most important think I learned in the forest.

The written word fixates. This is the power of it. But as I have lived like this I have become more and more flexible – at the same time more clear, robust, there, than ever.
How to transcribe that?
How to transmit it?
It´s so contradictory.

I couldn´t.
You know this, you´ve seen how I´ve gradually written less and less in this space- and more and more in my secret, hidden manuscript, well tugged in between my many essays and projects on this computer. I´ve written over 400 pages on nature and spirituality, norse mythology and, well, um, me. I still believe in the power of the written word and in the importance of having a voice, using it, I just also believe that some stories are not linear and cannot be told in such a fashion (even when you try) and some stories are more like a carrier bag of acorns (i.e ursula le guins carrier bag theory on fiction) and my carrier bag has been full, I needed to empty it.

“Tell the same story again and again until you understand it” the ghost said but I think I understand it now.
That´s the why.

*

A couple of nights ago it was the dark moon, then the thinnest, most fragile new moon.
I was sitting on a big iceage old rock in the darkness, gazing over the moonlit landscape, I was there with a friend, we were just there to observe.
To sit still on a large rock.
To observe.

That´s where I´ll be.

But you know, I know you know, you whom have followed me for all these years and have witnessed – that I love you and that I am very grateful, so grateful!
We have buildt trust and a little bit of community, strangers connecting is really one of the most powerful things on earth. For your reading pleasure I give you this. These are the lines along which I am thinking currently: this is well written and interesting.

I also, as always, recommend that you read some Ben Hewitt. He is very down to earth in his writing style. Down to earth is good.

Also if you read german or know anybody who does I recommend my book about our first year in the forest.
You can also buy it in danish of course.
I recommend it because I´m proud of it. It took me some years to tell the story, then understand the story, then to be proud of it. If anything I have come to realize that stories takes time.

And in order to tell them properly you need to sit quitely on large rocks, sometimes for a little longer than you anticipated and sometimes you have to let go if you want to hold on.

17 thoughts on “I did a gruesome thing

  1. “… we were just there to observe.
    To sit still on a large rock.
    To observe.”
    Det kender jeg godt … det er godt …
    Meget godt.
    Kærlig hilsen Birgitte 🙂

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  2. I am sad to hear you deleted all that. That which you put so much heart and soul into. But I trust you. I can understand it in another way. Sometimes I throw away my old artwork. Stuff I don’t like. My dad told me don’t throw anything away because some moron will come along and love it. But, like you, I cannot drag all my artwork around with me. Yes, it is like a cannon ball. So even though I’m sad that you deleted it I understand. Love, Renee from the Central Valley of California

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  3. All that you write is true and you are brave to follow your instinct and delete that which no longer helps you fly. But it is no surprise that you set an example for us all – we all know how courageous you are and that is why we love you.
    I began to blog myself after being inspired by your blogs. I learned about Dark Mountain, Ben Hewitt, and many others through your writing. Reading your blogs and the comments on them felt like sitting with a group of friends and that got me through some difficult times. So thank you for that. When it was hard to find like minds around me where I was living, the network your blogs created for me kept me alive and hopeful. Social media is invaluable in giving access to support networks for those of us who choose to question the dominant cultural narrative and, therefore, often feel isolated and despairing.
    But I know what you mean when you say that you have to give them up. They can become a far too comfortable trap. We can spend our entire lives trapped in their orbit . In recent months I have found my own blog posts becoming less and less frequent. Other modes of communication seem able to carry more weight and,for the time being, are more attractive to me. I don’t know whether I am brave enough to delete all my past blogs but maybe that time will come. My life is changing rapidly, as it must in these strange times, so it is no surprise that my writing must change also.
    Still, thank you for being the inspiration that you are.
    And thanks for the link to Gather. Very interesting reading and very much in tune with my thinking at the moment.
    Thanks for it all.

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  4. Yes, writings, possessions, thoughts, they can all hold a little piece of us; our energy. When we purposely let them go we can get that energy back. Cleaning house can be very liberating ! I’m glad you are finding new paths. It’s interesting that you posted a link to the blog “Gather”. I’ve been reading there for some time, and we returned to live in Victoria again this summer. I haven’t crossed paths yet with the authors, but I’m sure I will soon. The witchy community isn’t that big :). There are wild spirits here.
    Thank you !
    PS Sharon Blackie’s wrtings are also very good.

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  5. YES, I support and truly understand your decision, and what a journey to look back on, that must have been a memorable day. Clutter clearing is not only a physical matter, getting rid of things that no longer serves one give energy and open for new thing to enter ones life. In that way you give yourself room and space to take in new thoughts an ideas. Is that a gruesome thing? Not if the intension is to gain new energy, a new start. I hope you will keep sharing your insights recieved from the Universe, sitting upon a rock in the frozen forrest. Lots of loving thoughts from here.

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  6. dear andrea
    these days, being awash with nettle and fennel seed tea myself, i had to laugh.
    wish i knew you in person and that we were sharing a pot of tea face to face. Far more than blogs i really value personal connection.
    your blog has been like a mégaphone or pulpit for you — i enjoy the visits with your thinking and ways of expressing yourself. still, if you are in my part of the world, come over, get past the geese, and share some nettle tea. we have a lot to discuss.
    all best on the journey,
    ~ abigail
    !

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  7. Jeg tenkte på dig og din blogg igår, og søgte igennem de blogger jeg følger men kunde ikke finde noe. Måske før at jeg reiser og adgangen til internet er dårlig, men så plötsligt var du det!

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  8. Tiden
    tiden er ingen fjende
    hvor du end når hen
    når du når frem
    så er jeg der
    ventende på dig
    kærligheden
    sejrer
    over al tid
    altid

    Kh

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  9. Too bad, really.
    As other said before, especially Andy put it well to words, it had become a group of friendlike people, a network that connected us or at least created the possibilities to do so.
    I myself have often wondered wether I should do the same. I have a dorment blog about our move to Sweden and I have all buit forgotten about it. Still it is a part of who we, as a family, are and have become. It is a crucial story within our story, a collective memory from which others may benefit.
    But I understand your angle. Being tied down is not alwats a good thing. As for the other blog, I have lost steam there too. I wonder if I should continue, because it regularly feels like I am telling the same story over and over again. But then I realise that I am not! Because I am changing and thus the story does too. So I will continue, since it is not only just for me. Maybe someone else will benefit from it too.

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  10. Andrea H was never Real, so you burnt the Pages, just like Sia suggested. Language is for liars to languish in until they give up! Give up the futile Endeavour of trying to limit Life by de-scribing it. You are a trillion thoughts behind before the first letter is put to paper, always trailing behind the Living Life. Sit on the rock take all that life offers and it will blow you away every single time.

    Andrea never was, who you are, always was and will always be is nobody, you are nobody! That is so vast and endless that it will take your breath away just contemplating the idea. But its the truth. It scares the hell out of you I know, cos if you are truely nobody, then you are everybody too. You are all the good People, all the bad, you are the ones you hate, the happy and the sad … you are your mother, your father and your son, you are all three you are the One

    Welcome Home

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  11. I miss your writing. I didn’t always know what you were talking about, thinking that you were referencing things I didn’t know about. But I enjoyed every post because I felt the deepness of it and deepness of your feelings. I miss that. I’m not on instagram (I had to draw the line somewhere for media consumption!) so I will continue to miss your presence. I hope you will come back some day when you feel it’s time. Thank you for sharing your place in our world.

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