Intense and Unsettling

Last Tuesday I had a conversation with my creativity coach Sara and it came to how creativity operates in an entirely different way than regular economic exchange.
As a creative you create what you feel called to do.
And then you sell it, or you don’t.
In regular businesses, you create what you can sell.
.
Being creative is a blessing, it is fulfilling, satisfying.
Sexy!
But it is also a curse, addictive and in all likeliness an economic sin.
Your art not just exists outside of existing economic structures:
It also has the power to disrupt it.
.
And if you’re any good at what you do:
It will.
.
A great artist is someone who immediately wakes you up.
Or their work is.
But it’s not a place where you feel all comfortable and fuzzy.
.
So there is that:
The realization that my purpose work takes place outside of society.
And that in all likeliness, it will always place me outside of it as well.
.
But there was also another lesson I learned, and it was something that I think many clients (of Sara) would have found an uncomfortable observation by her.
Yet I totally loved it….
.
We were talking about personal branding, a topic that rarely comes up because I no longer see my creativity as something I necessarily sell.
But we touched on personal branding because I confessed to Sara that I would love to pick up coaching and teaching yoga again;
But was held back so much by this realization that there is something vastly different about me, compared to what someone expects from a coach or a yoga teacher.
.
This something within me kept getting in the way of being able to offer my services.
I wasn’t able to communicate what it was I had to offer, and kept getting stuck in the standard image of a coach or yoga teacher.
That’s when Sara talked about personal branding. And she spoke the words:
“I think your personal brand is INTENSE and UNSETTLING.”

.
Wow.
Yes!
YES IT IS!
.
I once had someone tell me how people immediately felt better when they saw them. That a calm and peaceful mood struck them, where everything was okay, just from being in the presence of this person.
.
I immediately shot back:
“I have THE EXACT OPPOSITE effect on people!”.

Deep fears, coming back to haunt.
Dreams that were lost, suddenly resurfacing.
Insecurities, which were carefully contained for years, suddenly omnipresent.
.
But also: Big and powerful breakthroughs happening in seconds.
.
But also: For the first time seeing their own strength mirrored.
.
But also: A meeting of souls.
.
But also: Receiving clarity and ownership over your life.
.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t see what I had to offer the world, it was that I kept getting stuck in not being able to word it.
.
INTENSE and UNSETTLING

Bingo.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

The Stopping of the Giving of the Fucks

This is a letter to my creativity coach Sara
Before our coaching call, I always give her a headsup.
..
Dear Sara,
.
It’s hard to say when I decided to pull myself up by my bootstraps, get back on the field, which I seemed to have given up to former and potential lovers, professions, employers and a variety of financial and sexual saviors to, I don’t know, take a fucking dump or something?
I mean for FUCK’S SAKE what was I thinking Sara?!
What were all these people still doing on my field? Why were they invited or why did I even allow them on? 
.
download (21)But dating problems aside as to when it started, I do think the moment of having a next level fuck-that-shit-moment, putting my cap back on, wiping the snot out of my eyes and the blood off my face, spitting on the home base and giving the pitcher a determined look that regardless of what he was gonna throw at me,
I was going to knock this thing out of the park;
That moment had been brewing for a while.
.
That I had actually been very aware, right from that lousy 10th of December, of how difficult it had been for me.
Not just to see my lover leave. But the why.

It had been a genuine choice by him, and a big leap forward from a moral perspective (and who does not wish for their loved ones to have a clear conscience?). But there had been circumstances which caused me to think this was not entirely voluntarily. This was a man doing what he had to do because life had been so cruel, he could no longer allow for his own cruelty to coexist.
The only way to do the right thing, was to become the angel he had never been.
.
Now I m the first one to admit my perception is terribly biased. And it’s certainly not as if he sat me down and explained himself or defended himself.
But then again:
If he had left me for a badass girl half my age, who filled his penthouse with the smoke of pot, and considered out loud if she’d take a pet hyena – I would have known that.
It’s not an ego thing, that I frame my ex-lover’s departure into him taking a step back to take responsibility over his life. 
.
And it’s not even an ego thing that I unconsciously waited for him, for two months and 19 days.
It’s not even because I thought he would not get by without my company, my love, my sex. In fact I believed it to be a huge relief, to finally not have this “mistress thing” haunting you at night.
.
I don’t know, I don’t know….
Maybe it was because I did respect him so much and did not take this breakup personally, that I wanted to wait to make sure he didn’t come back.
Or maybe the past few months of waiting were my own personal mourning time. 
.
All I knew, and this is the strange part, was that I couldn’t cut ties, nor recognized how powerless I was making myself, until I applied for what I unabashedly labeled “my dream job”.
It was an organization that I love, my favorite department, the location is smashing and it buzzes with energy and worldly excitement. (no it’s not a brothel! lol) 
.
To say “I applied” would be an understatement.
I energetically aligned with them, and wrote a letter from the heart yet it referred to universal principles and could have passed as their 2020 mission statement.
I think it cost me half a workweek, but afterwards it was no longer a question if they were going to give me the job;
It was only a question if they could afford not to.
.
I know it must sound arrogant but just like I had been convinced I was an extremely good mistress, who had offered a unique and extremely valuable arrangement (and her heart!) to the man she loved;
I knew what I offered this company, was beyond their wildest dreams.
.
And then: Nothing.
.
Turns out nothingness is pretty killing when you can’t wait to start having the amazing kickass relationship you saw in your mind’s eye.
Until it finally hits you.
If someone takes THAT amount of time?

It’s not a match.
..
Sure: you could play the game out. Keep your cool. Pretend you didn’t even notice their response took ages, and be like:
“Oh! Now I remember, yes! That application! Jeez, I d forgotten about that, but yeah, I d love to meet up!”
And if this organization had been anyone but my dream employer, I would have had no problem playing this game out, bluffing my way through as if it was poker.
And I would have won.
..
But that hard to get strategy, is not how you win the game of love.
This can only be won by showing your heart. Just like I ve never been shy towards my lover that I was crazy about him. 
In the beginning, when my lover just like this employer, slowed things down by cold shouldering me, I was very vocal and broke up with him.
I said I was crazy about him, and since he seemed to insist on being irritated over how “difficult” I was, I was apparently alone in those feelings.
So bye then.
It was an incident that he would bring up, whenever we brushed on the subject of choosing for each other and get a “real” relationship.
His “You just walked out of me” versus mine “Only because you didn’t want me there”.
But it worked.
And he learned that I would support him, always. That I stood by him, even if he didn’t contact me. I had full faith in his ability to manage his own life, and plan when he wanted to see me and when he didn’t.
But he knew I was crazy about him, and that he wasn’t allowed to treat me as someone who didn’t care.
He had to acknowledge how special he was to me.
That was all I asked.
.
And that’s what happened after waiting for them for two weeks to respond to my letter: I broke up with them, by withdrawing my application.
.
Because I finally saw that it was not their responsibility to explain or excuse themselves or to be a good future employer.
It was my responsibility to get the fuck out of there.
It was never my path to fit into a neatly crafted position, something my application had overdelivered on from the start.
.
My application and the weeks of silence had been equal to falling in love with someone who has not made up his mind, and who has no interest in acknowledging your feelings. Meanwhile leaving you with your heart all open and out in the streets.
Maybe they’ll pick it up for you, once they’ve made up their mind.
Or maybe they’ll trammel it.
.
Which leaves you with only two healthy choices:
Quit (if it’s real love) or turn the game around and treat them the way they treat you.

Pretend it leaves you completely neutral that they ignore you for weeks, and start dating their biggest competitor.
And in all likeliness it has to be a two-puncher:
First quit.
Then if he wins you back, you still have to keep your cool.

This is how I played my cards with my lover, and it’s why I got to be his mistress for five years, and I regret none of it.
Not playing the game, he was used to winning.
Not investing so much time and energy into someone who I have never been able to call “mine”.
It was all worth it.
.
If the object of your affection is your number one priority, you should take your chances.
.
However, before you do, a moment of contemplation is in order.
And in my case that moment came as soon as I started Googling my other options. Searching LinkedIn for the people who ran similar organizations where I could offer my services and make a serious impact.
When suddenly I realized:
“Wait a minute! This is not MY path! This is not my job. No job is.”
.
Once again, AGAIN (!! I can’t stress the stupidity I felt) I had bought into the fantasy that next to my purpose work as an independent, there was a job for me.
A warm and fuzzy place where I was a normal person, and people expected normal things that were not about me.
Where I was part of a team.
Where I belonged.
.
There is no such place, Sara.
.
Just like my relationships with men can be better than they ever had, and I do make sure that they are;
They will always choose someone more relatable and more presentable to settle down with.
Just like my entrepreneurial skills will outdo those of any other employee in terms of making money and making an impact:
They will always choose someone less outspoken and easier to be around with, to take within their walls.
UNLESS!
Unless you make it your number one priority.
.
Any game can be won, if you insist on it.
.
I could have won the heart and become the woman at the side of my lover. Just as I could have gotten this job.
If I had made it my sole focus of attention and dropped anything else.
My writing.
My publishing.
My speaking.
And my entire new life and career which I m currently crafting under my other name.
Everything.
It’s almost as if the other people instinctively know me better than I know myself. That my lover knew I would never stop writing (about us) not even if my life or our love depended on it.
And that any employer will understand that ultimately I don’t live for them.
I live for me.
.
There are no fuzzy office corners with friends for me, Sara.
No job where I ll not be haunted by the idea that the real work is waiting for me at home.
There is no bed for me, where I’m always welcome.
Those were all things that I thought I would get, in return for allowing all those people on the field. I was so, so wrong. I need tattoos to remember this, I need high level boundaries, I need to stop giving fucks and I definitely need to get real about whose game this is.
.
There is a movie with Madonna from 1990, Dick Tracey. She plays a nightclub singer Breathless Mahony.
Confused by all the crime cartels in his city, Dick Tracey tries to figure out who Madonna is playing for.

Dick Tracey:
“Whose side are you one?”

.

Breathless Mahony: 
“The side I m always on. Mine.”

.
Mine, Sara.
Mine.
.
~Lauren

An unexamined life is not worth living

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

“What the fuck do you want from me, Catherine?”

I feel that the femme fatale figure of legend,
myth and modern popular culture tells the truth about sexual relations..
About male fear of woman, not male hatred of woman.
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The femme fatale shows that in her supernatural kind of power,
that woman is ultimately unknowable.
.
Not only to man, but to herself.
.
Camille Paglia
audio commentary to Basic Instinct 
.
This is a letter to my creativity coach Sara
Before our coaching call, I always give her a headsup.
.
Dear Sara,
.
There is only one part of my 1994 project that is actually taking flight.
Just one part of my life, that easily transcends 25 years back, and I would be able to write about in my 1994 series.
.
Everything else that happened is just untranslatable.
.
I can’t share that I ve decided to go out into the world under my real name, starting with an entirely new Bon Jovi YouTube series.
The only filming we did in 1994, was with a camera that had videotapes in them. And we were unlikely to share it with anyone we did not already know.
.
I also cannot tell how I found the bestest job in the history of being LS Harteveld. A job opening which has excited me to the level of Jon Bon Jovi funding my life on the condition that I only do whatever the fuck I want, every day, for the rest of my life.
And if that means I will do him, that would be great. But if not he’ll still be my biggest fan.
That would be like the Next Best Thing, to finding this job.
But it is so tied to modern culture that I have not found a way to translate it to 1994.
.
And in this 1994 series, which really feels like ages since last time I wrote for it, I also cannot tell that in order to apply for this job I am supposed to clean up all my blogs at least to some degree, in order to apply.
And also, the absolute daunting task awaited me, of going through both of the YouTube channels (the description boxes) to clean them up, take out any cross-referencing from my secret pen name to my real name, take out all services that I no longer offer, websites that I no longer support and social media accounts that have changed.
And remove everything that I don’t want biting me in the ass, when I m visible or famous under my real name.
Nor did I want anything online which I did not 100% stood by, the moment I was sending out the most important application of my life.
.
And – and! – Sara, you are not going to believe this;
I can also not work into my 1994 series that YouTube then did the stuff nightmares are made of:
It.
Unedited.
My.
Videos.
.
Five years of work, trimmed endings, cut monologues, ringing doorbells and bare bellies from tops that exposed me;
All online.
And that’s just the stuff under my real name.
God knows what I edited from my more candid LS Harteveld channel.
That channel could have an atomic bomb of bloopers, that could blow up any career, let alone the carefully crafted public image I was creating under my real name.
.
But the good news is that the unexpected YouTube fail left me no choice but to simply take down all 500 videos on my two channels, only leaving a goodbye video on my LS Harteveld channel, and the three videos I had shot for my new series under my real name.
It cost me four hours of intense anxiety and full-blown panic on a Monday night.
It saved me days and days of editing description boxes and a guilt trip towards my audience for every video I removed.
A simple apology on both my channels, explaining what had happened and why I removed the videos, was all it took.
I think I owe YouTube a big Thank You.
.
So all these major life events, the decision to become known under my real name, starting a new video series, finding the perfect job opening, and my adventures with my YouTube channel and the blessing that turned out to be, colored the past two weeks.
Yet I did not write anything for the only series that I hold in the highest regard, and that I consider the most pure version of me:
1994.
Where I translate my life into a fictionalized past.
.
22 Year old Lauren had not moved a finger, in the area of work nor her writing.
And there was really only one aspect where I knew what she had been up to:
She had fallen in love with Michael Douglas.
.
She had no idea why she had managed to miss him, when she had seen Basic Instinct at the theater, but she had.
And now that she owned a videotape of Basic Instinct, she just couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
She was spellbound by his strong, macho on-screen presence. And she was sure the magic was in his voice. 
The way he said: 
“What the fuck do you want from me Catherine?” while looking straight into Sharon Stone’s eyes, up close, sparked a deep longing in her to be with a man again.
To have a man asking her that question, in an almost bored, definitely not impressed with her, way.
.
Maybe her ex-lover Bear would?
She still thought almost exclusively about him. Even though he seemed to have really left.
But maybe it would be someone else, someone new who would come into her life and possess that same kind of distant cool, that made her feel safe. 
Whoever it was, she would recognize him if she saw him.
She was sure of it.
.
And he, would recognize her.
.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

My fate was sealed a long time ago

Slash-coverThis is a letter to my creativity coach Sara
Before our coaching call, I always give her a headsup.
.
Dear Sara,
.
I know our call is over a week away, but I m ready to call it a day.
The upcoming week will not bring any dramatic change, nor a massive production of blog posts, because I m kind of… I don’t know.

Done?
I know who I am, I know what I want, and the days of changing direction or wasting time are behind me.
..
Another reason I have found myself toying with the idea to write you this weekend already, is because I have no intention of holding on to the ins and outs as to how I got here.
And as soon as I try to explain it, it rapidly turns into this boring list of all the blog posts I wrote that shaped my mind. I think I m close to 10 including several written under my real name, all written in the past 2 weeks.
I didn’t just write, I also worked and did other things. 
And yet all in all, the past two weeks felt intensely alone. Not lonely.
.
First I assumed it was my obsession with January 1st, that I just wanted to start the decade off by myself. 
But then it became the second of January, third. And nothing changed. 
I would go to the movies, theater, see friends even. But it was almost like I made sure it didn’t impact me as much as it usually does.
I could feel that although I wished I had started the year fresh;
I still had things to figure out.
There was still “life clutter”.
2020 Had not started as clear and purposeful as I had hoped.
December with my lover breaking up and almost daily social appointments, had been hard on me. This year solitude and writing were the only thing I longed for.
To figure things out, and let go what was no longer needed.
The good news was it worked.
.
Last week I saw how all the major aspects of my life, and how I want them in the future, had stayed partially clouded (although for many of them I was on the right path for sure!) because I had failed to see one thing.
Or maybe I had seen it, but I had failed to see the consequence:
THAT I AM A WRITER
Or artist, in a broader sense.
I honestly have no idea how I let’s say “managed to miss that”, because the signs have been all over my two author names, five different blogs, ten published books and material for the next ten already done, but I thought that being a writer, publisher, artist, was somehow something that could be:
– negotiated
– parked
– downplayed
– bargained
And even:
– erased
– denied
– ran away from
.

Slash-1024x1024Yet through the lens of:
“Honey, you’re a writer, you need ample time to process all those times you look for the meaning of Life behind every man you meet (that’s not true, just my lover and the man who looks like Slash), every guitar hero whose biography you read (also not true; just Slash) and every movie you see (probably just everything featuring Adam Driver or other gorgeous men with dark hair).

You re a writer and it’s going to cost you your life.
Get used to it.”
In that light it’s obvious my writing doesn’t budge.

Every time I panicked over something – being someone’s mistress, writing about my sex life to name just a few – it was just because I failed to understand:
I AM a writer.
That’s what I DO.
It’s not a “I m a writer unless I m in love with you, and you don’t want me to write, then I m not a writer.”
It’s not:
“I m a writer unless you want me to really get my head around this new job and go head first into this new world making new friends and giving me a new identity because then I ll be that.”
I m a writer period. It’s not an app that you can remove from your phone.
.
The first areas where this fact, obligation, curse and blessing of being a writer started to sink in were my love life and work. I now know that as much as I would agree that it’s not ethical to write about your sex life, it’s not something I can change any more than the color of my eyes.
As much as I would love to have my life free to jump head-first into a new career: I am a writer already and I publish my own books.
End of story.
.
But there was one area where it took a bit longer.
And I think it was this epiphany that needed the solitude of the first weeks of 2020 before it could come out.
Teaching yoga.
The area I had been on the fence about since summer 2018
.
As you know I have unpaid work with male co-workers, and it’s very practical work. And at the same time I ve pretty much called off all my friendships, and currently no longer hold any steady arrangements of seeing people.
My preferred method of socializing from this year forward, will be through work in a male-dominated, practical environment.
.
Together with the realization that I AM A WRITER this quickly led to the realization that there is no place for teaching yoga in my life. That I want to spend my working hours among men, and my time off behind my desk writing or working on my own publishing business.
Ideally I want to make a full income selling my own books, and work a job 3-4 days a week, including my current unpaid work.
.
I kept all the other things that had to do with the yoga studio. 
The space, my class teaching friends, my own yoga practice. I write for my  Rock Star Yoga blog.
I still see myself as someone who has something to say on yoga, just not teaching it.
Becoming an (albeit antagonistic) spokesperson in the yoga world will still happen. 
.
So after two weeks it’s finally done, all the internal processing and seeing where I will be taking my life.
I’m updating all my websites and profiles, and will update my resume so that it reflects that I am a writer and a publisher. No longer a yoga teacher. 
.
One of the movies that influenced my decision was Words of Love on Leonard Cohen and his muse Marianne Ihlen. It didn’t take long for me to recognize myself in Leonard.
In the poor deal he could cut her, where it was practically impossible for him to give even a little bit of himself to her, I recognized the state of affairs in my own love life.
.
It’s not that I don’t think a man doesn’t deserve safety, warmth, predictability, stability, monogamy, a future. It’s just that I can’t give those things.
.
And all I can offer are words of love.
.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

related:

On my other blog: Two be one – on Leonard Cohen and Marianne Ihlen

My diaries en erotica are available at my BOOK SHOP


coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.
.
Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

 

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The Desert Goddess

This is a letter to my creativity coach Sara
Before our coaching call, I always give her a headsup.

Dear Sara,
.
Every time I write you, I feel like checking what I wrote last time.
As if I fear you are keeping checklists of my analysis and conclusions, my plans and resolutions. When in the highly unlikely case that you did, I know you would never use them against me.
That I don’t have to meet any standards of consistency, although obviously a part of me still thinks investing in creativity coaching requires some sort of accountability.
.
I went to Star Wars 9 and to my unpleasant surprise the leaks were true. Despite its promising part 7 and 8, the entire sequel saga which started in 2015, was not about a love story between the darkside warrior Kylo Ren and his equal in the light, the girl from Jakku.
It was about the birth of an overpowered super heroine (the antis use this as something bad, but I ve decided to claim that as my bio) who doesn’t need anybody.
Or at least I hope so, because she ended up all alone without the love of her life, on a desert planet to, as Twitter put it;
“eat sand.”
You can’t blame Star Wars for lack of symbolism, when they let her love interest (who was still on the dark side then) snatch a fertility necklace from her neck,  through Force projection.
I thought this was subliminal messaging for some kind of reference to rough sex.
But apparently it meant:
“No sex for you. Stay a virgin and if you re lucky we’ll give you an immaculate conception so that we can keep fantasizing about you and we don’t have to compete with tall, dark and handsome warriors.”
Eat sand, check.
.
Just like Rey’s future had suddenly changed from happily ever after with her dark prince to facing life alone, my future changed to when my own tall and handsome lover called it quits.
And just like Rey, I tried to tell myself I would get over it, there were more fish in the sea (although few in the desert), and it would all be a chance to redesign my love life.
Being a mistress had been unsatisfactory with regard to the number of times I had sex. I had not had sex for 5 month when we broke up.
Which was an advantage when processing the breakup, but in previous years the numbers had been modest as well.
.

I could see how becoming fully single, would help me to adjust to the idea of having multiple men in my life.
But only when I m in love.
The major takeaway from having been single since 2006, has been that I know that sex without being in love is just as boring to me, as sex within a long-term relationship where the passion has died out.

This requirement alone may very well be why I might never have sex again and I m okay with that.
.
So I was left alone with my thoughts on how I could use this time as a single to upgrade my sex life from having the basics/ a mindset in place that could support one lover, to one that supported at least the idea of having two lovers.

But against any and all of my expectations, something happened that was the opposite of what I expected; When I masturbated my orgasms had intensified.
Practically overnight.
The first time was two days after the breakup.
It was a session of which I thought: 
“Let’s get this over with, so that I have that first time out of the way,”
and BOOM!
.

The only time I remember experiencing this, was around 2006;
When I was in my early 30s.

I had always assumed it had been an age thing.
At that age your body does what it can to talk you into making babies.

But with the same thing happening now, it’s much more likely it was sparked by me and my partner breaking up!
Just like now, it was a very smooth breakup, nothing dramatic.

We even stayed together, living together for another two years. 
As friends.
.

So apparently, as much time as I had invested in figuring out my sexuality and my relationships, as much as I had gained knowledge over all those years – 
I know who I am right now, and that I had been right in 2006 that a long-term sexual relationship really was not my thing-
I had overlooked something major as well:
That I was absolutely fine, being alone.
If anything, I was doing better.
.
I will never stop loving tall, dark and handsome warriors.
And still think Rey and her man should have ended up together, they deserved it.
But as far as my own sex life goes, I now know that there really is no reason whatsoever to “invest” in a love life or to turn myself inside out in order to be able to deal with two lovers.
.
In the end I am just as happy alone in the desert.
And certainly just as hot.

.

~Lauren

An unexamined life is not worth living

.
coming soon: new books

1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2020
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4.
Blote Kont- (Dutch)
5. ALL THE THINGS – unpublished work 2010 – 2020

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Nederlands blog:
https://zegmaarlauren.com/

I m in love and this letter caught me JUST in time!

Jon Bon Jovi was with Diane Lane for 13 months, before he returned to his now-wife and high school sweetheart, with whom he’s together to this day.
Dear God:
I ll take the 13 months and look this happy.

This is a letter to my creativity coach Sara.
Before our coaching call, I always give her a headsup.

Dear Sara,

This message got stuck, started rotting and had the potential to become the most depressive shit I ever wrote.
I had already come to terms that I had no other choice than to show you the raw mess of a disemboweled and dismembered artist life, when suddenly it hit me;
I was NOT lost!
Not at all!

Just Saturday, two days ago, I had gotten an epiphany that had brought me great clarity and changed my life around.
It’s just that somehow on Sunday I forgot.
Maybe because it was all so embarrassing?
I seemed all too eager to forget Saturday’s insights. And was so successful at it, that I honestly  believed I was on the right path trying to build a life from all the neutral scraps and pieces that had nothing to do with Tha Embarrassing Thingy.
Which is (Tadaa!)
I m in love.

Sara – will you please, if I EVER present myself to you in a state of falling apart, ask me if I have been denying being in love? Or if it is otherwise tied to a man?

In 2018 (in hindsight) I believe that everything was caused by my lover having someone else, something I seemed to be picking up on energetically.
I tried soooo hard to look for solutions and explanations inside of myself, when a large part of the reason I felt so messed up was because our affair was in trouble.
I was losing him.

I m not saying that I didn’t have a part in it. After all I do believe that when I m doing really well, he will automatically be drawn to me like a bee to honey and that I will not even care if there is someone else.
So it is a two-way street.
But nevertheless I made the resolution to never look inside of myself for the deeper reason for depression or anxiety, without answering the question:
“Is this about my lover? Am I picking up that he’s with someone else?”

That’s the thing with people like him and me, isn’t it?
Because our attention, our love, is so strong, people can feel it from miles away if you stop doing it. Sometimes I think even Madonna must have felt I stopped being a fan after 25 years. Because I m now back with Bon Jovi.
Who knows.
Maybe we should ask her, if she can feel fans dropping in out of fandom.
Either way  – all just to say, that when I m not doing well, the first explanation could be my lover having his mind with someone else.
Or (option two) I m in love and not acknowledging it.

Or I acknowledge it one Saturday, but then refuse to live my life honoring this inspiration, and set myself up for a Monday where the suicidal thoughts return.

The despair of feeling such a loser for both NOT seeing myself in a normal job – but also NOT seeing myself as an entrepreneur!
The only thing I clearly see is that I don’t belong in society, because I lack basic human survival skills of wanting to fight for your place here. Wanting to make an effort.
I don’t want effort.
I don’t want shit sandwiches (as defined by Elizabeth Gilbert) that come with client contact, work floor dynamics, contract obligations.

I even had a severe wake-up call last Friday when there was friction around the yoga studio and I just said:
“I m not going to have this conversation. If this is not acceptable to you, just put your objection in writing and I will leave the yoga studio, because I no longer have it in me to deal with complicated dynamics like this.”
In a way it just felt like a real accomplishment, that I no longer acted like an adult entrepreneur who fought for her yoga studio.
I was simply like: “If you re going to make this difficult, I m out.”

I felt really bad the entire Friday, but then I saw how it had actually helped me. That knowing that you do not want to eat the shit sandwich tied to something, means that it is just a hobby. It’s something you do for fun.
Suddenly it became clear why my undefined, or at least not-acted-upon, plan to get enough private clients to earn me an income – had remained just that.
Undefined.
Not-acted-upon.
Because I don’t want it.

I ll give up the studio in the blink of an eye if needed.
I love teaching the walk-in classes for old-students, but I m sure I could find some other space to give them. As I could for teaching the privates.
But I don’t want to work on my business.
I don’t want to sell people on my yoga.
And from that came a CLEAR vision that “even” for yoga, my work will not be a business model involving client contact.
It will be writing.
It will be YouTubeing.
It will be sharing everything I know for free, and just seeing where it will lead.

Although I still don’t see myself a writer, performance is my true art. But I do see that I am way more a writer than an entrepreneur.
And that writing comes sooo natural to me.
So maybe I AM a writer after all.
Even without trying to be one.

But isn’t that the characteristic of a true identity?
That you don’t do it, you just are?

So where was I?
Okay Friday – shit sandwich studio. Realization I don’t want to give my all to make money teaching yoga.
Saturday: D-Day
Aka the day I realized I am in love.
So if I feel shitty option one is I feel my lover is doing other things.
Option two is: I m in love and not allowing it.
Option 3 – and for future reference I do want to stress this is the most likely scenario –
BOTH!

In other words: me falling in love is linked to him turning away.

If for a longer period of time, I feel I m not getting attention or (just as important) that I can’t give him my attention and love; I survive by falling in love.

In 2018 this was with Christopher. Which took me two months before I had figured that out. Two months in which I lost my company because I kept trying to do something magical with it, that would make the pain go away.
Same way I still try/tried to do something magical with my yoga studio the last couple of weeks, AND the same way I tried to get psychological help Sara!
I now see that me going after a diagnoses was because I was in love!
Wonder if their test would have brought that up, to be honest.

Falling in love, and especially not knowing I m in love, has been the cause of the most painful periods of 2018 and now 2019, because I keep trying to fix the wrong thing!
My finance.
My business.
My studio.
My mental health.
It’s none of those things!
Which isn’t to say that those things would not benefit from some attention, but I can’t fix my life by fixing the symptoms.

I need two tattoos,  Sara. Two things I should never forget.

Tattoo number ONE
Do not eat shit sandwiches when doing PURPOSE WORK

Real purpose work is by definition shit sandwich free.
This does not mean you get a happy end.
You may end up on the cross like Jesus.
Or poor and miserable like Vincent van Gogh.
But eating shit sandwiches is what you do to try to avoid that.

I ve made a really drastic decision Sara… and it has to do with part deux (my second tattoo) too, but I want to drop it here.
Sara.
As much as I respect people who can be artists as well as have a normal job that brings in the money, I will no longer pretend I can do that.
Because I can’t.

The reason I get suicidal thinking about a job, is because I don’t see how I can protect my own mental space to create my art, and fulfill my own destiny (which takes all of my time and doesn’t allow for a job) while doing a job I hate.
This is not because the job is no good: It’s because everyone who feels responsible for a gift, a talent they got, and for bringing their message into the world, would hate any job ever invented in the history of mankind.
You just can’t be separated from YOUR LIFE for 40 hours a week, expecting it to have a pulse when you come back at 6 o clock.

Which means that in the upcoming weeks I will be working like a mad woman completing my books, my legacy.
And that after that I will cease to exist as an artist, unless and until, I can afford to be one.
Giving up on the idea that I will make an effort to stay creative, to stay alive spiritually, once I am incarcerated into work life, has been such an incredible relief…

But the reason I could do that, is because of the second tattoo:

Tattoo number TWO
It’s always about a man

This is the thing you should remind me of, when I feel really bad.
That I probably feel bad because I m either not in love, not acknowledging it, or because I feel bad about what is happening in a love relationship.
Like in 2018 and 2019 when my lover had other women on his mind.
But I have another example.
In 2007 I had a job for a couple of months for a horrible man, but because I was in love I could deal with him effortlessly.
Yet, the moment things got rocky between my then-lover and me, the situation exploded within 24 hours.

As long as I m in love – I can do anything.
I need being in love more than art, Sara…. I really do.
That is also why I could choose to stop being an artist:
All I need to do to enjoy life, is have a good love life.
Which is – of course – my true art.

But who is it Lauren? Who is it?

I had almost finished this letter without mentioning who it is! Ha ha ha.
Well, it’s someone I met weeks ago. I haven’t looked it up, but it may have been 5, 6 weeks.
That’s how long I was in resistance.

I haven’t seen him since, although we texted to wrap things up. He doesn’t do social media, so I don’t have pictures or video. Therefor I can’t be be a hundred percent certain about my feelings, because it’s been so long.
But then again…. how often does this happen?
– he was really good at keeping his cool.
He didn’t flinch!

Reminded me of the one time I was with my lover and we ran into this beautiful blonde on a mountain bike. They chatted a bit, but they were both totally cool.
She was so stunning that any man would have overplayed his hand trying too hard, especially with me next to him.
He didn’t try anything.
In fact, he didn’t even mention her afterwards.
If I would have a conversation with him now, reminding him of it, and asking who she was, I m a hundred percent sure he would not even remember.

THAT is how cool this guy was too.
Didn’t flinch.
– he was professional
We  saw each other professionally, and I was the client. That is all I can say about it. So this also means that if I want this to work, I might have to be the one who makes herself more available/ hints at this, because he obviously cannot be “caught” that he’s harassing me, or coming on to me, because that would be totally unprofessional.

And yet: I don’t want to be open about this at all.
And he has at least one chance in the future, to see me in a casual setting, maybe more. I’m not going to do anything until I see him using that chance.
– he was kinder than he needed to be without being flirty

Which is another accomplishment. Maybe it’s too close to keeping his cool, but he was giving me a lot of space to be myself and to share what I wanted to share.

Which brings me to the last:
– he told me a secret
It was a slip of the tongue, when he talked about his personal life, a past relationship.
It went by so quickly, I think it startled us both a little bit. And it was so intimate, that I didn’t discuss it, because it was obvious that he had not been wanting to share that.

But the fact that he did, and that we both just seemed to fall through the rabbit hole automatically?
That was magical.

Oh and as sort of a PS?
He looks like Slash from Guns N Roses.
Yeah, I know.
Jackpot baby.

 

~Lauren

An unexamined life is not worth living

{ scroll down for interview Slash and Nikki Sixx! }

*Dec 2023, links have been removed because this material is no longer online

Subscribe to this blog for my letters to Sara, and my 1998 diary.
The subscription button is on this page, most likely on the top right.

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New books will be added.

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready,
is to subscribe to this blog.
Button on this page, probably on the top right.

Or follow my Facebook page
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Slash on the radio show from Nikki Sixx:

#ActuallyAutistic

And after a year of working together, I have news that’s going to put a whole new perspective on anything and everything we ever talked about.


Dear Sara,

Last week, when I sent you a “midterm update” as I called it, giving you a heads-up on my mental health.

I sent you that extra message, because I thought today’s email and our call tomorrow, would be about something different.
I assumed that I’d be back to my normal levels of content creation.
With all of my video channels, blogs, personal site with cartoons and yoga classes:

ALL of it attended to on a daily basis because life would be back to the way I have lived it for the past 5 years or so.
Which is me getting up every morning, ignoring all of my plans and to do lists, and doing whatever the fuck I want. Resulting in the highest turnover in creative production that I know.
However.
Little did I know, that at this moment I am still days, perhaps weeks, from getting back into the grind.
But that I do have something extraordinary to share:
I am actually autistic.

It is not certain yet, I don’t have a diagnoses and this could take months and months. But there is not a hair on my head in doubt about this.
Because it would explain for everything.

Do you remember half a year ago, when I stated that seeing myself as a highly gifted and even highly intelligent person, already explained everything?
I still stand by that.
But what I see now is that – although an IQ test or other tests which could estimate “giftedness” would almost certainly come up with things that set me apart – my talents are rooted in a neurological diversion called autism.

On a very practical level (which is probably autistic in itself to refer as “not committing suicide” as “very practical”) it explains why I associate having a 40 hours a week job with so much stress that I don’t want to live anymore.
It were these episodes of deep despair over having to go look for or accept a job, that ultimately got me to seek help.

I even thought: “Maybe if they hook me up on Prozac, I can actually do it.”
On a soul level I would die then.
Just that on Prozac, at least I wouldn’t feel it.
So maybe I wouldn’t have to kill myself and just live on as a walking dead.
Which I thought was a fair price to pay to be part of society.

The other scenario was, if I didn’t get some magic pill which would allow me to work, that getting a diagnoses would maximize my chances of becoming successful as a writer/ entrepreneur OR if my art asked the ultimate price – my life – at least I would know which mental health condition was to blame.
“Whether you call it my madness or my calling – I want to know what this is,” I wrote you.
Again:
Little did I know what “this” was.

Autism.

I feel some of the biggest breakthroughs of the past year, can be explained looking through the filter of autism:

Things we talked about as signs of autism #1
fear of a normal job

Makes total sense. Me immersing in my own world every day, thinking, writing, creating videos, is my way of dealing with reality.
My art is both my purpose as well as my coping.

Like many autistic people I am one with my work, you can’t separate the two.
I ve joked before, that unless my employer is Jon Bon Jovi himself, meaning an embodiment of one of my passions, normal work is never going to work. I need hours with my passion every day. And the few hours left after a workday are never going to suffice.

Next to that social interaction costs me much energy.

This is because I put on a face, a mask. And I can wear the socially-acceptable-me mask for a few hours, but then I zone out. And if at any time someone can call, or tap your shoulder, or send an email that requires immediate answering, this means I have to wear the mask the entire day and will snap.

Being autistic explains both my dread of losing having the day to myself, as well as the fear of being in a workplace.
It explains the non-negotiability of my purpose work.
Which brings me to:

Things we talked about as signs of autism #2
my maniacal working hours

I ve said it before and I ll say it until the day I die:
I don’t feel affiliated with normal writers.
From what I hear they map out their books in advance, experience writer blocks, second guess their work and so on.
Most write a few hours every day and carefully plan those hours.
“When is my best time of the day to do my writing?”
Whereas this is me:
I.
Devour.
It.

No matter what I plan, no matter what I m supposed to be doing for my finance, or to build a business, or even whether it would be a good thing to do something with daylight or exercise?
Too bad.

The last couple of weeks my production has dropped to 20% of what I used to create. Due to stress over having to figure out my finance, and also the constant worrying of having to choose between taking a job possibly taking my life on one hand, and choosing for my art on the other.

This is also something where I can see autism:
My mass production can only exist thanks to monomaniacal focus.

So before this monomaniacal focus got disturbed by worry, I ve spent years where I just woke up, jumped behind my computer and wrote.
If at 3 PM the doorbell rang for a package, I was still in pj’s.
Embarrassing? Yes.
But I knew how lucky I was!

Lucky to have such an all-consuming work drive, where other writers were bothered with things like startup time, concentration problems, and needing an ideal working environment. I have experienced during the renovation here, that I write just as well if they are drilling next-door.
You could shoot a canon next to my desk and I wouldn’t even notice.
That’s called zoning out – typically autistic.
As is working till late at night, and starting again with your breakfast in hand –
Autism at its finest.

things we talked about as signs of autism #3
Cluster B (narcissist, borderline) repellent

First the downside of having autism:
My reluctance or sometimes flat-out inability to have superficial conversations. I can see the true nature of the other person immediately and often feel like the little girl wanting to yell that the emperor doesn’t have any clothes on. Every time I see someone covering up what they really want, I bite my tongue because I understand that lying your pants on fire is normal social behavior.

I am perfectly capable of having functional small talk.
For example when I buy a ticket to the movies. But the moment there is no goal, I stagnate. And if I get dragged into a non-functional conversation where I can clearly see that the other person is an insincere jealous bitch?
Call me autistic, but that just doesn’t gel very well.

So having social super powers does not mean that I can deal with a variety of people in a variety of situations. But I think no autistic person can do that-
However!
I do know the ones who can!
And this ties in nicely:
A person who excels at “normal’ social skills is actually named within the autistic community, because we love them and they love us.

They’re called the Super Neurotypicals.
So autistic people are neuro-atypical.
Normal people are the neurotypical ones.
And the Super Neurotypicals actually excel at social interaction. They are empaths who immediately feel how the other is doing and they can change the mood of the other. I think all men I fall head over heels in love with are this – but I m not sure. They could also be fellow autists, since autists are really good at giving you attention.

To be courted by an autist is similar to being love-bombed by a narcissist, but without the danger of ending up in an abusive relationship with a narcissist.
So now I have introduced the THREE personality types which are linked to each other like Pokemon cards. Or like rock-paper-scissors.

The Super Neurotypical can understand (“beat”) the autist.
This empathic caring person, can be fascinated with an autist! I ve read somewhere that Super Neurotypicals “can become a true magnet for women with Asperger”
Asperger is a high-functioning form of autism no longer in the DSM, but still used. I have the impression that the term Asperger is starting to get used as a laymen term, for autism that you can’t detect at first glance.

So a Super Neurotypical person, the one with excellent people skills, can read and understand the mind of the autist.
However!
And this is just a theory but I already find it fascinating – the Super  Neurotypical person is absolute toast if a Narcissist or a Borderliner gets his or her hands on him.

Super Neurotypicals are so emphatic, they have no defense mechanisms to deal with Narcissism (or the Borderline).
But here is where the Autist comes in: They can deal Narcissists and Borderliners.
Again, it’s just a theory! But you know that I ve been fascinated with “bad guys” and “difficult people” right?
I see them rarely, but every now and then I hear of someone behaving in a way that strikes me as someone with a personality disorder, or I overhear a toxic conversation.
And to then see or hear much space they get…

It’s not that I don’t see that what the violator is doing is wrong. They’re known for being good at mental abuse/ gas lighting, and they can make the ground shake with their outbursts.
It’s more that I m like:
“Come on! You let him (or her) get away with that?!”

Narcissists and Borderliners are dependent on your presence. If you’re not there, either because you walk out, or because you zone out, they are powerless.

I really believe that Autistic people are practically immune for the emotional appeal the Narcissists and Borderliners place upon you, because they just don’t respond to manipulation by emotions.

I am an empath – and I think all autistic people are.
It was long thought that autistic people cannot feel what others are feeling, but there is a tendency to start seeing that different:
That we are so emphatic that we just can’t look people in the eye without feeling the same thing.

It’s what I told you about me teaching a general, heterogeneous yoga class (this does not apply to the last two years of my teaching career, which were homogeneous classes).
But I knew exactly what everybody was feeling, and yet I couldn’t address it because there were too many people there, and had to give some sort of average-one-size-fits-all class.
I learned to zone out.

So my theory is, either because autistic people can’t feel the emotional appeal on them (as classical autism suggests) or because we are actually so sensitive that we have to zone out countless of times on a daily basis in order to not get overwhelmed- We cannot be touched by the Narcissist or Borderliner.

Making autists among the few who can have relationships with them without having to write entire books about it afterwards.
Again! Just a theory! Maybe I will revise it, but for now it makes perfect sense, that not responding to emotional submessaging, has its advantages.
Bringing us to the last one:

things we talked about as signs of autism #4
Experiencing it as the whole

This is a difficult one to describe, but we’ve talked in different terms about my how my personal experience at the Bon Jovi concert, was an entirely different reality from what the other 50.000 people saw.
Or how the time I spent with my lover, cannot be simply reproduced by another woman having sex with him “because he’s so good”:
I bring something myself.

We’ve called it performance.
We’ve called it becoming one with something (a vision) or someone.
We ve called it creating reality, by elevating yourself to the where you want reality to be.
Ultimately we settled for: Experiencing it as a whole.

I don’t stand there just listening to the music, nor do I go to my lover with my arms crossed defensively:
“Well let me see, what he has for me.”
Everything I do in life that has meaning to me, has my full attention and I ve prepared for it.
Everything is an all spirit, all body, all mind, all vision experience.

The Rock Star Yoga I started is not “there” yet… It keeps fading in and out of focus, especially the last few straining weeks.
But at least I know (at times) what it IS and what it DOES look like.
I know the essence of it. Or I know who I AM, in the essence of it.
Even when it does require some extra searching and digging.

This morning I saw a video of Courtney Love talking about her autism, and that is my current “click”. The other women I tried to elevate and solidify myself and my Rock Star Yoga identity with, were all brunettes, so they were not ideal.
So I ve currently taken Courtney as my Rock Star Yoga inspiration. And it feels really good.
Taking it is as a “Hole” then it is.

This was my extremely long email. I ve also picked up working as a volunteer in a theater, on the floor so no desk work! 
The light and sound boards had a great appeal on me, and everybody was really friendly.
Maybe I ll start a second life as a techie, who knows!

I look forward to our call Sara.

.
~Lauren

An unexamined life is not worth living

Subscribe to this blog for my letters to Sara, and my 1998 diary.
The subscription button is on this page, most likely on the top right.

Books 

My diaries are available at LULU 
New books will be added.

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready,
is to subscribe to this blog.
Button on this page, probably on the top right.

Or follow my Facebook page
/ Twitter: @LSHarteveld

Van Nice

In the early 90s Jon Bon Jovi was also really tired

Sara is my creativity coach.
Before our calls I always update her about how grateful I am for having such a rich spiri- . You didn’t buy that right?
I talk about boys.
.
Hi Sara,.

I m here behind my computer late at night on a Monday, wondering (again) why I keep postponing this until I m tired as a dog, got a total mess in my kitchen waiting to be cleaned up before bed, and I m attacked by mosquitoes all the time.
I don’t want to use repellent because my cats hate it, and treat me like an untouchable if I put it on.
So now I m suffering from bites, they even sting through clothes.
My skin looks ravaged, it’s a good thing I m not a sex worker because this wouldn’t sell.
.
I always try to write these reviews without checking what videos I made, or what blog posts, or even checking my calendar.
This is because I will remember the important things!
Everything I forgot was not a good fit.
So let’s go!
.
I ve got bad news and good news.
Bad news first:
I haven’t done my finance nor figured out where I m going to work/ went job hunting.
And both are pressing matters.
Having said that, I know both will just drop into place like magic, when the time is there.
That’s how it always goes.
Other than that, I had two amazingly productive weeks that made me very happy.
.
First I lost four days to a heatwave but after that it was game on. .
I churned out a lot of videos for My Life in Bon Jovi songs*
and a really cute story The Little Mistress who turned into a Baby Koala*,
about a little mistress who was every man’s dream,
but if you had a normal relationship with her, or held her too long,
she turned into a baby koala.
The little mistress sets out to solve this riddle and visits Richie Sambora, Jon Bon Jovi and Nikki Sixx, to find answers.
.
The second accomplishment was that I wrote my first erotic story in two and a half years.
It was in my 1994 series, about a 22 year old Lauren, who’s trying to figure out her life as a graduate, certified yoga teacher and having tons of ambitions for her sex life. Ambitions she’s reminded about by a fan fiction story featuring the notorious Nikki Sixx.
In an attempt to savor the still extremely potent affair she has with Bear, she starts writing about her sex life again, based on her diary.
And it’s a gorgeous story that made me very happy!
.
I also started (real) diary writing, because 22 year old Lauren doesn’t blog, she has a paper diary. And I m also inspired by The Heroin Diaries from Nikki Sixx, to keep a normal diary.
It’s still an on and off thing, but I feel good about it. And it helps me with the retro-vibe.
In the audio book of The Heroin Diaries, Nikki Sixx makes most of his entries in a location which sounded like “Van Ice” or “Van Nice”.
Because we Europeans are used to Americans pronouncing European names differently I assumed – and I take full responsibility for this – that he was living in Venice, California.
Venice? Van Ice?
Until I noticed the track list of the soundtrack to the book (YouTube link to playlist). The second track was called:
Van Nuys
So I thought: “Oh THAT’s where he lived!”
Van Nuys was a village, settled in the early 20th century, named after Isaac van Nuys. His name traces back to a Dutch settler by the name of Auke Jans van Nuys, who came to America in 1651.
In all likeliness “Jans” was his real last name and Van Nuys was added in America.
Van Nuys refers to the little village Auke came from:
Nuis, in the North of the Netherlands.
And the “ui” or the “uy” as it is spelled in Americanized versions, are so difficult to pronounce that it drives anyone who needs to learn Dutch, to absolute madness.
On second thought the pronunciation Van Nice is brilliant and I would support giving the village Nuis in the Netherlands, a name change.
To Nice.
.
The final news is that I ve officially started Rock Star Yoga:
The home yoga practice as well as the blog.

I m unsure if this was after, or before you and I last talked.
Rock Star Yoga is a way to inspire people to start doing their home yoga practice by making it so much fun, that they can’t wait to get on their mat.
Yoga at home should be like sex, or the way writing is for me:
You must only do it if you can’t not do it, don’t care how much sleep you lose, or how much you have to give up in order to create the time.
It’s like being hooked on heroin, but then with yoga.
Problem was that my yoga addiction could not be summoned, I dropped out and didn’t feel like practicing. Meanwhile I was overflowing with inspiration as Lauren Harteveld, including writing my first erotica in two and half years.
I just wasn’t sharing my real self at Rock Star Yoga because I was embarrassed that it/yoga/blogs
were not proper. 
Cleared that.
Now I write my Rock Star Yoga blog* about whatever inspires me, which are currently Nikki Sixx and Jon Bon Jovi,

And I practice yoga listening to Nikki Sixx reading the Heroin Diaries audio book, or watching An Evening with Bon Jovi (MTV 1992).
I make it a real party to be on my mat and to write the accompanying blog post.
And it’s working.
.
I have to go now, a new shift of mosquitoes has arrived. If 1994 Lauren gets half a chance at new material for her erotica, she can’t keep sporting this polka dot pattern.
.
Talk soon! I m looking forward to it!
.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

*Dec 2023, links have been removed because this material is no longer online

Subscribe to this blog for my letters to Sara, and my 1998 diary.
The subscription button is on this page, most likely on the top right.

Books 

My diaries are available at LULU 
New books will be added.

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Message from a Rock Star Yoga Teacher

He aged well, Sara. He aged well.

Sara is my creativity coach.
Before our calls I always update her by email.
Sometimes without mentioning sex, men and Nikki Sixx. But this time I was doing great.

..
Hi Sara,
.
I look forward to our call tomorrow, and although on the surface (read: money wise) nothing has changed,
below the surface everything has changed.
And that’s a weird thing for me to say, because I m still crushed by guilt I didn’t do any of the things I had set out to do:
I did not organize my first rock star yoga classes (group). And realized I don’t want to. 
I did not update my finance, which is behind for months
I do have all expenses automated so it’s not like things don’t get paid.
And I also did not go looking for a job.
But maybe that’s because I know none of those things matter as long as I don’t have the full vision of what it is I m aiming for.
And that’s the big news:
I got it.
I GOT IT!
.
First other good news:
Two days after our last call, the second and only other employer to whom I had sent an open application, responded to my Facebook message!
I wasn’t counting on that anymore.
This really would be my dream job, because it’s sexy , creative, it works with peak experiences, and performance art.
I knew he was really busy at the moment so I wasn’t surprised when he asked me to send him a normal email, so he had my address, and that he’d contact me after.

Saying No to the non-creative job earlier, which had been a difficult decision, seemed to be immediately rewarded by the Universe.
.
Last week I had my big break under my pen name, which is starting to turn into a stage name, LS Harteveld.
As you have once suggested, I m beginning to see LS Harteveld as the workshop side of things.
It’s extremely important that I don’t put any strain on that with regard to whatever it needs to be, and to go fully with what I want to do.
Last week this resulted in two in-depth Bon Jovi analyses which in turn lead to the most clicks I ever had on a non-sex blog post. The articles were appreciated by many fans.
Even men! 😁
.
And I got the format for my erotica as well.
Do you remember I told you my autobiographical erotica 2019 was going to be an offline thing?
That I didn’t want the erotic diary writing to haunt me, now that I was going into the real world, either with my message under my real name and LS Harteveld, and/or because I was working for someone else.
But I also noticed that the offline writing of the erotica wasn’t exactly taking off. No aliveness.
My notes were still in their rudimentary form and I couldn’t even be bothered to write them out, in my diary.
Oh!
Before I can tell you how I hacked that erotica problem, I forgot a very important element:

Somebody sent me fan fiction.
Now I have no idea if you know what fan fiction is?
And especially (you know I m the girl for the big guns) slash fiction?
It’s erotica, but you could also say pornography, based on existing characters or, apparently, on rock stars.
I spent a day and a half in a totally different Universe, where even Christian Grey would have had no idea what hit him – and after this binge reading I had not finished it.
But I quit reading and ideas how to incorporate fan fiction into my work started taking shape.
I also kept wondering: Why had I let myself go that way?

And I noticed that one of the story’s antagonistic heroes, Nikki Sixx, had stuck to me like spe- I mean glue.

It was his dominant male energy (have you seen him current day?! Suffice to say he aged well!), combined with my 36 hour smut brainwash and all the things that had been bothering me writing about my own sex life, that gave me the idea for:
“1994”: fanfic inspired erotica
click here for episode 1
It’s about a young Lauren, who turns 22 this month and she’s living in her apartment with her cats, a Master’s degree, a yoga diploma, and without any clue as to what to do with her life.
By mail she receives fan fiction, from a seller of a Bon Jovi VHS tape, where she falls for the Nikki Sixx character.
The story and Nikki Sixx’ role in it, make her wonder about her own love life. Her lover Bear does date other women, but has been her sole lover for the past 4,5 year.
What does she need to do, to get their exciting sex life back? 
Or should she find her own Nikki Sixx?
.
So in one week I had that part of my creative work entirely up and running.
The Bon Jovi Metas (those are deep analyses at meta level) made me realize that my true magic still is, and always will be, in writing.
And the retro-erotica series gave me the perfect hook!
Then today I also did The Thing I Should Have Done Weeks Ago, under my real name:
I finally started Rock Star Yoga, properly. The whole shebang.
I was kind of doing it, have been for months. But I wasn’t owning it.
But now I have it all:
A Rock Star Yoga website, a blog, a Facebook page, YouTube.

It’s all about owning your practice and not taking shit eh I mean directions, from anybody.
To fully create your own yoga practice.
And this IS what I will be known for. 
The Rock Star Yoga blog is meant to be a mixture of sharing my own yoga practice and stories with regard to Rock Star Yoga mentality.
I want to create those blog posts into a book(s)
The Rock Star Yoga Series part 1 to…? 
.
So now I can connect the dots:
My art and my yoga, my work under both names, are artistically free and do not include business models that make me do things I don’t want to do.
Ultimately, revenues will come from Rock Star Yoga books and lectures, one-off events, and so on.
And under my pen name income will come from books and maybe lectures or something;
But I don’t intend to push that.

LS Harteveld needs to spend as much time as possible inside her own head, unavailable for the outside world. 

My work as “LS Harteveld the Mistress” feels behind me.
Lauren Harteveld is now the 22 year old, figuring out life and Nikki Sixx’s sex appeal, in 1994.

That experience will be the workshop where the wisdom of Rock Star Yoga comes from.
Until I have my income from books and talks, teaching yoga could my income. Mostly private yoga.
Or another job, preferably a steady one and even better, a creative one. So that I know that I have a baseline income.
.
So those are my findings!
I m a Rock Star Yoga teacher but I am not aiming for teaching private yoga to be my ultimate business model.
In the end teaching private yoga will “just” be a hobby. Just like my current low-key group classes to former students.  
My purpose in the real world, is to be a public speaker and author, a Rock Star Yoga Teacher.
My purpose in my inner-world, is to be the performer and author Lauren Harteveld. 
.
It took us a year of working together, but I think we can say:
We finally nailed this.
.

.
~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

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Books 

My diaries are available at LULU 
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The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready,
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