You must NOT wake up to find The One Ring, your purpose, your fate, your LIFE

Frodo in The Lord of the Rings

A few days ago I finally, FINALLY, knew the answer to a question a coach I follow, Katrina Ruth, has proposed in
her free videos,
blog posts,
and in paid programs many, many times.
She asks you:
“If you had a megaphone, thousands of people were listening, and you had one minute, what would you tell them?
What is the ONE MESSAGE you would like to share with the world?”
I cast aside my fundamental doubt if I will ever be a messenger, or if I could pretend even for a minute I have just one message, and bravely connected with the more hopeful signs I had something to say.

Such as my annoyance with people walking around half-dead, while getting things done, and being successful;
My certainty that they were ultimately going the wrong way, and would hit a brick wall someday;
And my absolute rage that no one was warning them, not even giving a friendly nudge. They were left to their own devices possibly racing towards their burnout, existential crisis or whatever it is that you may crash upon if you go that fast without first making the conscious choice to do so;
Combining all those things, I knew what I would yell;
YOU MUST WAKE UP AND FIND YOUR PURPOSE
And this was not just for the workaholics, the very successful among us. It was also for everybody who thought life was holding them back because of no partner, no money, no job, illness and so on.
It was for anyone who thought things were complicated or stressful. Because life was actually very simple.
Either you had a purpose and knew what you were doing.
Or you didn’t.
So when I had finally found my message, after following Katrina Ruth for over two years, I was so delighted. And I knew this message (You must wake up and find your purpose) had been the reason why I myself had crashed into a brick wall after 15 years of teaching yoga.
Well, it wasn’t just due to not being on purpose, that I had dropped out of teaching yoga. It was also no longer offering a sustainable income, so other rewards of the work became more important. 
And teaching yoga classes started to feel superficial and more importantly; not helpful at all.
If you didn’t know your purpose, a tensed up body and stress were merely the outer expressions of that. And IF they could be relieved with yoga, then you still wouldn’t find your purpose because you would be getting way too comfortable.
I was starting to feel yoga was facilitating people to stay without purpose, by taking the sharpest edges off their suffering. We, yoga teachers, were the curling parents of self-help;
We were smoothing out the path before them.

So it wasn’t because I didn’t want to help people. On the contrary! I really wanted to help people, but I felt yoga was offering fake solutions which would ultimately keep you asleep your whole life if I did my work right.
So when I found my message as a writer –
You must wake up and find your purpose!
– I didn’t feel any doubt that it was the right message.
Not until I was studying and found something peculiar:

That “waking up” coming from me, is a call to first and foremost wake up in your inner world. 
Not in the real world!
This insight came after watching YouTube videos and reading about my new Myers-Briggs type. It was (unfortunately) my second round of studying.
The first, wrong round of studying had turned out to be a detour that had pulled me offtrack for months. The mistake had been based on taking
this Meyers-Briggs personality test. It came up with the result that I was an ENFP, with E standing for extrovert.
Right off the bat, the E (extrovert) felt a bit fishy to me. And I didn’t recognize myself in any of the famous ENFP-ers. But I took the result seriously and I gave a positive spin on things! Because my newly found “E” actually meant that I would be able to work in the real world!
How cool is that?!

And without wanting to kill myself at the idea of being around people and work within an organization or a company. I was normal! Employable! Horay!
So after I took second Meyers-Briggs test from a YouTuber I like, Eric Thor, and he said INFP – “I” standing for Introvert- I was both shocked and relieved at the same time.
Shocked, that the test came back with a different result.
Especially after I spent so much type studying the ENFP type. But I considered it my own fault too, since I had failed to do a second test immediately.
I had taken a huge risk having so much faith ENFP was the right type, probably because they’re so optimistic and fun to be around with. Will Smith and the character of Ron Weasley from Harry Potter are both ENFP’s: 

They don’t make the impression they will ever get lost in overthinking things. Such an appealing thought, that under my tormented, artistic soul, there was this bright, almost Pooh-like personality, who was able to keep things simple.
So I did take responsibility for clinging onto the ENFP result.
All the wasted time studying the ENFP, and the shock after taking Eric Thor’s test, were my own fault.
But when I started from scratch, now reading about the INFP type, it was like coming home.
J.R.R. Tolkien was an INFP, and so were his Lord of the Rings characters Frodo, Gollem, Faramir and Arwen. All people with a rich inner world and values which were deeply internalized. None of these characters could be swayed by outer expectations, nor could they escape their inner sense of duty.

Luna Lovegood

J.K. Rowling is an INFP and so is her wonderful Harry Potter character Luna Lovegood! A strange girl, who can see things in the outside world no one can. And to whom her inner world is far more real than the outer.
But although Luna was wonderful, in general, INFP’s were not the people I looked up to, or aspired to be.
In fact I hated the Frodo story line.
I was the one suggesting the entire Lord of the Rings saga, was best watched skipping all the scenes that just consisted of Frodo and Sam.
Now I see why that was:
Because I would be that no-fun-to-be-around with dutiful sucker who would sacrifice himself going to Mordor to throw that ring into Mount Doom. I would even be the one person The Ring would not have power over because just like Frodo, I answered to my inner-code only.
I only cared about doing what I needed to do, not about worldly power.
On a side note: This blog is called 7-figure Rock Star Writer.
And I sometimes wonder if anyone really thinks that’s me being blind with ambition? Well, no. Obviously. My aim to becoming the first Dutch 7-Figure Rock Star Writer, is to direct my inner world towards something.
I do not believe something like that, can even be directly created in the outer, “real” world. It needs to be created inside.
That’s why I think I can do it, and that’s also why I set it up: As the basis for who I AM. Not as something that provided guidelines, 7 step plans, or strategies on what to do in the real world. I m not saying I m not doing anything. I obviously am.
But ultimately me BEING a 7-Figure Rock Star Writer in my inner world, will precede me being that in the outer.
At the end of The Lord of The Rings, Frodo writes everything in a book. He is a writer too. He was driven by his sense of duty, when he offered to be the one taking The Ring to Mordor.
But afterwards he processed it by writing it down.
And with that he behaved just like any INFP will. Just like I will write down my journey of becoming the first 7-Figure Rock Star writer, and just like I have previously written about my journey to becoming the ultimate mistress.
Anyway, I m drifting off badly.
Where was I?
Oh I know, the warm bath of finding all the other INFP’s.
And it were not people I had studied in depth or anything. For example: Johnny Depp is an INFP. I like him a lot, but I have been a fan of his way more sunny colleague Brad Pitt.
Broody and complicated Johnny Depp was too close to home.
Just like I didn’t like Frodo; because I knew I too, would dutifully go to Mordor and save mankind. All the while secretly wishing that I was not such as complex character, and that I was more like my lighthearted friend and travel companion Samwise Gamgee.
Who brought a box of salt, so that they would always have some nice seasoning with their food and to remind them of home.
Looking back, I can even see how my complicated INFP personality has influenced my love life.
How we ve clashed whenever the man was motivated by logic or money.
How we’ve made each other miserable when he was just as flaky and unstable as me.
And how I still immediately relax in the company of a man who believes food is the most important source of joy. Way more than sex. I think men who prioritize sex are scary. But a man who cooks simple, honest food – nothing from packages or jars – will immediately win my heart.
So studying my INFP type, I discovered many things.
And I intended to write this blog post about these discoveries. And how they were going to help me in this new phase of being a writer, publishing my own books. To see it as a quest!
Until this morning, when I suddenly realized:
“OMG! Now my slogan is ALL wrong!”
The significance of my inner world, made “You must wake up and find your purpose” sound way too, well, worldly. Because it could be interpreted, as me wanting to wake up people who are asleep in the way society thinks “asleep” means:
Unemployed, troubled, without goals, netflixing the day away.
Although much can be said about that, that is definitely NOT the type of asleep I am talking about! In fact, I think someone “wasting” his or her life as a couch potato is way better off than the people I am waking up.
I heard there was this pilot with baseline income in Iceland (or Finland?). Anyway, it was concluded it had been unsuccessful, because there were still a lot of people who didn’t undertake anything. They were not “making” anything of their lives. Now I m not saying that if these people are depressed, or unhappy, that they should not be helped.
They deserve to be helped, if they want to.
But I was in shock when I heard that people not doing anything, were a reason to not support baseline income. Because the real problem, in my opinion is;
The people who ARE doing something!
But they’re running around, ticking things of their lists; They’re productive, and they’re being successful in every way. But do you know what they would do if The Ring came by?
They’d say: “I m sorry! I m too BUSY!”
The Netflixers on the other hand, are way more likely rise above themselves and step out the door to take the damn thing to Mordor to destroy it.
So when I say:
YOU MUST WAKE UP AND FIND YOUR PURPOSE
I don’t mean, you should come of the couch, out of your own bubble, and start living your life.
On the contrary.
I mean:
Stop DOING all those things, you think you have to do. Stop figuring out, the things you think you need to figure out. And get on the couch, retreat to your bubble, visit your inner world.
And figure out why you are here on this earth.
What is the impossible task, no one else can do?
Because if you do not find a way, no one will.
But that message is not nearly as catchy as YOU MUST WAKE UP AND FIND YOUR PURPOSE
So maybe in the end I was right, and I m not cut out to do any megaphone exercises. Because my message would be to stop listening to what other people shout through megaphones, or YELL IN CAPITALS. To stop listening to any advice anyone has ever given you.
Including me.
And to start listening within.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

About this blog

You must NOT wake up to find The One Ring, your purpose, your fate, your LIFE is Chapter 31 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

new books

With a little help from the Lord, I will now go all in on publishing my new books:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

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.

 

This is between God and me

For 15 years I was a yoga teacher, and if I set aside all the insights of the past couple of months, on why yoga was possibly one of the most harmful career paths for me personally?
I see the strongest reason was the one I came up with the first:
Because if I have a place in this world, if I have a connection to others (if!);
Then it is to wake people up.

Not to calm anyone down or put them to sleep.
I already had this insight when I was still teaching yoga but since I got paid to teach yoga, I never bothered my students with my urge to shake them up. I felt they deserved a yoga lesson. Not a sermon.
But having said that, I did interpret my job as superficial and considered at least part of my pay to be hush money.
I never had that with private classes – it was only teaching groups where I felt I could only scratch the surface and possibly not even that.
But after taking a personality test which is called Meyers-Briggs, I started to get a slightly different take on things:
The test revealed I was an ENFP: the E stands for Extrovert.
Initially I was appalled. Me? And extrovert? Then why do I hate groups?
But then this identity started seeping into the way I viewed myself. That the hush money (in the groups) was paid to shut up my flamboyant personality.
The problem had not been the superficiality of yoga, but me being an extrovert.
And in yoga (at least in the Netherlands) extroversion was shamed upon.
It would have been fine if I had been teaching tango.
So basically, after the extrovert diagnosis, I concluded I (as an extrovert) had simply been in the wrong line of work.
And this opened up tons of possibilities!
Suddenly I saw being an extrovert as a sign I would be able to have a normal job, without wanting to kill myself. Which could come in handy if my writing business didn’t take off!
I did skillfully ignore the knot in my stomach when thinking about being available, present, or even near other people for an entire workday.
It sounded so terribly exhausting.
But hey! Meyers-Briggs said I was an extrovert so it was all a matter of just giving myself permission to be my own radiant self, right?!
But yesterday I took another Meyers-Briggs test but now designed by YouTuber Eric Thor, and this one said something else: I am not an ENFP at all.
I am an INFP.
An introvert, instead of extrovert.
Exactly the way I had been seeing myself for years.
When I received the first ENFP result, a few months back, I initially ignored the E. I thought the extrovert part of their typing couldn’t be right because I obviously hated groups, and was happiest being left alone.
It wasn’t until I started studying the character of the ENFP in depth, that I could see how me hating groups had so much to do with the feeling I was under 24/7 hush money.
Symbolically, because aside from yoga no one paid me.
But I felt like my whole adult life, I had been under bribe of being accepted socially, as long as I kept my opinions to myself. No wonder I “missed” I was an extrovert. I simply didn’t know how to hold myself in public.
Fully identifying as an extrovert, I made it my job to refind my mojo, and start rocking my extroversion. I made plans that involved speaking in public, and getting jobs in the real word to finance my art.
But guess what? Secretly I hated it.
No matter how many times I was told I (as an ENFP) would be so great working in such and such environment, I still saw it as ultimately fatal.
Yes, if my surroundings were ideal, I would last longer. Probably eighteen months tops.
Yet still I didn’t doubt the E/extrovert result of the test, but I should have. Because seeing yourself doing an ideal ENFP job for eighteen months tops?
That sounds like mistyping.
Because here’s the truth:
For me, every interaction with the real world – but especially the ones prior to spending a full workday behind my desk – on an emotional level these interactions start like this:
“THIS BETTER BE FUCKING WORTH IT BECAUSE I COULD BE BEHIND MY DESK BY MYSELF RIGHT NOW! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!”
That doesn’t really sound like an extrovert, happy to see someone else, now does it?
Don’t get me wrong, I m pretty well behaved. At least considering the powerful emotions beneath the surface. So everybody who comes into contact with me for surface based stuff, will know me as a cooperative, loving empath.
And I am.
But only because I consider it a matter of pride to make social interactions as pleasant as possible. But it comes at this huge cost of wasting valuable resources such as any waking minute of my life.
Taking the first Meyers-Briggs test, which diagnosed me an extrovert, may have sparked my enthusiasm to go out there into the world. But the reason I jumped on being an extrovert was because it would solve my need for a steady source of income.
I can see that now.
I was desperate to be saved.
I wanted to hear I d be okay in case I don’t make it as an entrepreneur only selling books, and only doing my PR blogging, and YouTube.
(I will be picking YouTube up!)
If I fail to make money from that, I will have to become successful as a public speaker, and if that doesn’t work I will have to take a normal job.
Both things where being an extrovert would come in handy!
Being an ENFP seemed to come with its own build-in Plan B, and an ENFP would always land on their feet.
What a comforting thought.
And it all held up until Eric Thor’s test came along and I tested an introvert. The mist disappeared, everything became clear and a huge WHAT WAS I THINKING? emerged in the bright blue sky.
My extrovert-not-extrovert-at-all public persona would have had a life expectancy of eighteen months tops before she blew herself up.
A few days ago, a friend asked me a really good question:
Wasn’t I secretly using the whole money making part, to not show up as a leader and a messenger?
But after taking Eric Thor’s test I knew:
No.
I really am, honest to God, NOT a leader nor a messenger. Because this title implies that my job, my validation, lies in the outside world.
When I am all about the inner world.
I only exist, in the inner world.
My Alice in Wonderland is not inside of myself; It is when I open the front door and go out into the real world. That’s when I meet the strange, the cruel, the riddles and the unfairness of it all.
But there’s also a strong sense that it is not my world.
I don’t belong there. I m Alice (as in “LS”Harteveld!), I need to get back.
So after all these strong emotions and thoughts, and yesterday (another Monday) totally wasted on writing stuff I didn’t publish and on not working on my books; Wasted waiting for people or things, and getting worked up about the final parts of renovation mayhem;
And yet the sense I had to start making money from my art, from behind my desk, more than anything! Because if I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t be able to AFFORD to keep writing.
All those thoughts on a Monday shot to pieces by lack of planning, lack of focus.
Yet none of those thoughts was:
I need to help people.
None of the thoughts (and there were many!) was:
I want to lead, connect, create a community.
NO.
I thought, I KNEW, the outside world doesn’t have anything to do with it. My battles are internal ones. I need to find a way to publish those books. I need to find a way to keep writing, even when I m not making any money.
I need to find a way to run a business, even though my loyalty lies with myself and with what’s above.
But this life, this fight, this despair; It is between God and me.
This is not about how much money I make, or how old I will get. It is not about how many books I sell, or how few. It’s not about if I m an extrovert or an introvert.
This really is between God and me.
And if God put me on this earth with the talent to go within and then write for hours on end, then it is my job to go within and to write for hours on end.
And if I was put on this earth to publish those four new books, then those will be published in the upcoming months.
But Jesus wasn’t saved, Vincent van Gogh wasn’t saved. Not in the sense that their lives got better as a reward for holding the course, or that they received validation or money for their work.
But they did what they came here to do.
And maybe that really is the only salvation there is.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

About this blog

This is between God and me is Chapter 30 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

new books

With a little help from the Lord, I will now go all in on publishing my new books:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

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.

 

TGIF

You know those movies where the picture just starts to slow down… and melt?
Then catch fire?
Well, that’s Berlin.

from the movie Atomic Blonde

According to my coach Sara, I actually had a life, before the renovation started.
I wrote every morning – which is opposite to my current plan to prioritize biz building activities during the day.
But I knew what I wanted, and was serious about my career as a writer.
I just stared at her through our Zoom connection.
“Really? I did that?” 
It seems so long ago I did anything that remotely resembled work, instead of like days on end completely wasted, waiting for the walls next to the new windows to be fixed before I put the furniture back.
The kitchen floor to be put in, before I put my laundry machine and stove back.
Just generally waiting for things that on paper should have been done already, like the locks being replaced. I should have had my peace and quiet back days ago.
But I didn’t.
I don’t remember having done anything remotely productive for over a week.
Except creating plans which all went down the drain for one reason or the other. Sara says that it’s just as important to know what you don’t want, and that I ve made progress because I know all the stuff that doesn’t work, will never work, and most importantly: That comes with new shit sandwiches.
I ll get back to those, don’t worry.
Either way, after getting rid of all shitty plans and strategies, I decided on committing to this highly advanced, multi-layered sales and marketing system.
It’s a little bit too fancy, but I m taking my chances here..
The system that will turn me into the first Dutch 7-figure Rock Star Writer is this:
1. make books
2. sell them.
Repeat.
Which is to say, nothing fancy at all, but the only thing I ever wanted to do in the first place. I m no longer going to do everything I believed I HAD TO do to become a successful entrepreneur and to evade a bleak future of being on a payroll.
At risk of this post becoming boooring for non-entrepreneurs, a little on why I chose this unlikely strategy.
It is suggested, taught, and told as something Thou Cannot Skip, that every business should have multiple income streams.
So in my case that could be:
– writing for magazines and websites
– creating books and selling them
– public speaking
– teaching private yoga
– coaching
I ve always thought it made sense to use all my talents to make my business a success. But now I see two really BIG reasons why the multiple income stream theory is basically nothing more than an urban legend.
A myth we entrepreneurial people bought into, because it seemed more logical than accepting the truth that in reality, we may have no control over our income stream.
Or that maybe, if there is a sense of logic behind it, that it’s all mindset.
That your ability to receive, also known as making money or revenues, has got nothing to do with what you offer, and has everything to do with how comfortable you are with people paying you.
We actually didn’t discuss this money mindset in our coaching call, but that’s what I believe is true.
If I can’t receive money in one line of work, I won’t be able to offering another service either.
But aside from that, two reasons why having multiple income streams is certified bullshit. And in particular for creative entrepreneurs.
Offering multiple things will turn you into a plate spinning entrepreneur. You may enjoy keeping all the plates up in the air, but if you re a creator, fragmentation takes away the power of what you’re offering. You’re not fully connected to that one thing.
Instead you’re spreading yourself thin.
And the second reason multiple income streams are not a good idea, and this goes for ALL entrepreneurs (not just creatives) is:
Every service or product comes with its own shit sandwich.
A shit sandwich is a term coined by Elizabeth Gilbert (at least that’s how I know of it) that you’re going to have to deal with the mundane, the annoying, the things that are a lot of work.
Things like admin, customer service, answering email, getting your terms and conditions on paper and getting legal insurance.
That’s why, in my opinion, you should never sell at a low price point, because the shit sandwich is exactly the same!
Whether I sold my yoga per class, or in a package of a few hundred euros: the work I had to do to sign up the student, was the same.
So although 4 income streams may look appealing, it also means having to eat 4 shit sandwiches.
I got this insight only this week.
Because every time I was toying with the thought of using my yoga space – which I kept hiring as a business address, because I don’t want to give the Chamber of Commerce my living address – every time I wanted to go use that beautiful and fully equipped yoga space to teach privates, A SHIT SANDWICH SHOWED UP.
Something that was directly linked to the studio, that gave me just such a sinking feeling.
And after this week’s new shit sandwich, it suddenly dawned on me:
I may be drawn to the romantic idea of teaching one-on-one yoga; But NO WAY I m committed to the point I m willing to eat shit sandwiches over this!
And then I realized I m actually not willing to eat shit sandwiches for any other income revenue.
The deal is make books and sell them. Repeat.
And I have no idea where I am in this story, but I can remember starting something that had a point 1 and a point 2, and only making point one.
Because the second reason I m not going to spread myself thin offering different things (f.e. books AND services) is because I simply can’t.
If I learned anything the past couple of weeks and especially the last days, when the renovation wasn’t done when they had repeatedly promised it would be done, I have cried, gotten angry, and now I m just completely numbed down.
I m like:
“You have the key, whatever.”
I m like an overworked hooker: I don’t even respond anymore when someone comes in. I think they need to finish it some day, and then I ll sign. But if they just leave the stack of tiles on my balcony, and the ceiling unpainted and so on?
Whatever.
Not going to sign anything, but otherwise: WHATEVER.
Really.
It’s your renovation, not mine. And I’ve got my toilet and my bathroom and next week someone is coming over who can help me to put the stove back on the gas.
I don’t need anything from the housing corporation or contractor. New keys would be nice, but like I said, whatever.
Anyway, what all those weeks and the last couple of days taught me, as well as all the shit sandwiches getting served; What all the crying and the emotional roller coasters taught me;
I m just not up for all this SHIT.
Even if having multiple income streams would be the only way to make this work, there’s just no way I m going to pull that off, energy-wise.
Maybe it’s the burnout from last year, combined with the renovation and all the stress about quitting my yoga studio and not knowing where the money will come, but I simply cannot AFFORD to spread myself thin offering multiple things.
My mental capacity is limited.
Even writing this blog post, I get distracted all the time. Losing my story and my reasoning. My cognitive skills are mediocre, and I don’t know if that’s permanent or temporary.
Just that when I considered getting therapy, I decided NO. NEVER.
Either this is going to work.
And I m going to get an income out of working my own business, being the scatterbrain that I am.
Or I m not.
But I m not going to wait or invest to get “better”. Because if I don’t get better then I ll have even more time wasted!
No more.
Not after all these weeks of renovation stress.
And now I ve really lost my story.
I m not even going to try read back and make sense!
But one last point I wanted to make, was that I realized that the threat of having to get a normal job, was immobilizing me.
And could for life.
Even if I started making money selling books in 2019, or 2020; For the rest of my life I could still be worrying about what I was going to do if it stopped and I had to go work for a boss?
With the possibility of getting suicidal, because I had no idea how to soothe my brain, now that I couldn’t write anymore for 4 to 7 hours a day.
That’s why I have made an important decision:
Every workday I m going to work ONLY on the biz side of things.
So that I can start building my confidence that I can work normal hours (not writing whatever the fuck I want) and LIVE.
That I ll squeeze the writing in at night time, or on weekends, and still not get mad.
If I can do that, not only am I maximizing my chances of making money from my writing – since I m making a day job out of monetizing it! – but it will also give me the confidence that I can have a workweek similar to what I would have if I worked a normal job.
And don’t need to write 3 to 7 hours a day to stay sane.
My goal is to work normal, entrepreneurial workweeks. No writing, just working exclusively on my biz for 30 hours a week.
And with the same foggy, stressed-out brain that wrote this post, if I have to.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

About this blog

TGIF is Chapter 28 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

new books

I m currently working on publishing my latest books:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

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.

desire makes the world go round | The Mistress Speaks episode 6

“A Guru is a person in whose company one feels inspired and reminded of one’s divinity and wholeness.” 
from the Wiki page on Aghor yoga (Tantra)

Spoiler alert. If I even get around to making that blatantly obvious point!
The Guru mentioned in this quote, is your lover.
He or she is the only one who has the unique power to electrify you, and transcend you to another world.
Another plane of existing.
You should treat your lover the way a devotee treats their Guru.
You re grateful for their time, you don’t ask them to help you out, you don’t treat their presence like an everyday thing.
You KNOW that this person is indispensable and has already given you everything you could possibly desire, simply by being there. That one minute with him or her, means more than a lifetime together with a partner who will do you the favor of giving you a mature relationship that ticks all the boxes.
The reason I stumbled upon the guru quote is because I was brushing up on my tantra knowledge to write this post.
When I was still a yoga teacher, I studied tantra in a brave attempt to find a matching spiritual framework to yoga.
I sure as hell knew it wasn’t Patanjali.
And tantra was a great choice, and it was the most logical choice too, because hatha yoga stems from tantra.
Hatha yoga was developed around 1500, and the book that goes with it is the Hatha Yoga Pradipika.
There is a lot of sex stuff in it, they really knew what they were doing.
But under the reign of Victorian English colonizers, tantra as well as the hatha yoga were brutally cut in half.
The aspects that were clean and chaste were preserved, and the other side can only be found in singular tantric cults, who don’t have any mainstream status.
The best way to know about tantra is to look on Wikipedia on Aghori.
At the time I was studying Tantra, my favorite book was Robert Svobeda’s Aghora, The Left Hand to God;
On how darkness, leads to the light.
With its cremation grounds, corpses, drinking from skulls and sexual rituals Aghora provided a compelling read.
But because tantra was only known for the part which could easily be slipped into Hinduism and into yoga, my love for tantra was almost impossible to explain.
And then there was an even worse use of the word tantra!
As couples therapy who wanted to do a Sting and Tracy; staring into each other’s eyes, rocking back and forth, without anybody having an orgasm.
The two things combined made it entirely pointless to even mention my tantric path to anyone, unless they had Robert Svoboda’s Aghora part 1, 2 and 3 up on their book shelves.
I lost interest in it.
Although I must say that rereading parts of it, does make me think about studying it again.
Maybe it’s because I no longer teach yoga, that I feel I can study tantra without running the risk of being associated with things that I don’t want to be associated with.
Today I also read a new article from Esther Perel:
4 Ways To Reignite Passion In Your Relationship
And although Esher Perel and me seem to have identical views on relationships and sexuality, we come to different conclusions.
Her work revolves around improving relationships.
And my work around preventing them.
That if you are having great sex, and are excited about seeing each other, the worst thing you could possibly do is to start a relationship.
You re killing the whole entire thing.
Whereas if you re not that much in love, and you have a shared agenda about what it is you want out of life, then sure! Go right ahead.
I m just here to protect the rare cases when someone super special comes along, and your heart is pounding and dancing when you just think about seeing him.
Then my advice would be to become lovers.
Or “mistress” and lover.
Because that relationship, or maybe better “affair”, automatically builds in the four characteristics that Esther Perel teaches you, to have a healthy relationship:
1. Take responsibility for your own desire
Having an affair, and in particular a secret one, is a powerful way  to prioritize your desires.
2. Plan sex in advance
Again: this is a given in affairs.
3. Recognize the other’s sovereignty
Duh.
4. There is no care taking in desire: No one needs the other
My thoughts exactly.
So although I stand with Esther Perel, agreeing with all four points, I still advocate more awareness before you even begin a “real” relationship.
And an affair in particular, doesn’t allow for any of those lust killing aspects in the first place.
It is not for everybody, for sure.
The two main reasons to stick with normal relationships is prioritizing safety over adventure, and wanting to build a life with someone else.
But if you can deal with those aspects;
You’re actually over the moon over someone;
It’s mutual;
And then you start a real relationship because you think that’s better than an affair, then you’re making the same mistake as what the Brits did to Indian tantra:
You re cherry picking.
You picked the parts that you thought were safe and good, and presented your cleaned up version to the world as it being “the thing”.
But that’s no longer the thing.
The magic never was in the cleaned up version.
It was in everything you tossed aside, because it was too difficult, too ground breaking, too scary, too controversial.
It was in everything that didn’t suite your Victorian morale.
And now you’re wondering, where your Guru went.

~The Mistress

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A night as valuable as all others

In December I decided I would evacuate my house, during the current three week period of indoor renovation.
I was going to get a whole house all to myself. That was Plan A.
The problem with this, aside from the costs, was that all holiday cabins were located outside of the city, and I don’t have a car.

Plan B was to get a hotel, downtown.
Where I would feel uplifted by the inner-city buzz and could easily meet with friends. But the downside was that a hotel didn’t offer my own facilities to cook or do laundry.

Plan C would have been to live with my mother, if it wasn’t for the fact that I had discarded that one.
I had just started my new career as a writer, publisher, speaker. And under a new name, LS Harteveld. Living with my mother was simply not an option for two reasons.
The first was that staying over with someone is too close to becoming homeless. As a beginning entrepreneur, I did’t want to think about how much or how little it would take to end up that way. Sleeping over at friends or my mother felt like I had one foot in being homeless.
The second reason sleeping with my mother was not a good idea, was because I needed to get into this role, this new identity of LS Harteveld.
My mother is one of the people who will never see me as LS Harteveld, and that is cool. But I can’t build up LSH and at the same time be confronted with my old, broken identity.

With the woman who is completely drained after being a yoga teacher for 15 years, and who doesn’t want to work another day in her life.
Also sexually, sleeping over at my mother’s would be a disaster.
Although I was of course also sexual under my old name, having my own space, my own identity, my own energy when I go to bed and may or may not masturbate, are all key to my sense of self.
Going to bed every night feeling like a child would be killing for any career.
But for someone who has decided that she wants to feel sexual and fuckable 24/7, it is particularly demotivating.

I ve long considered it strange that on one hand I decided I would internalize my sexuality – and I did. If my lover Mr.Big would stop seeing me, it would not influence how I see myself, nor spark the serial dater in me.
And on the other hand I go through lengths to always have my own space, and to only BE in places that uplift me.
That hold some kind of sexual or inspirational energy.

At first glance it didn’t make sense
Until I realized that OF COURSE it made sense!
The reason I have been able to internalize my sexuality, and become independent of Mr.Big or other men I might fall in love with and would be open to dating, is because I am so terribly picky about where and with whom I  spend my time.
My surroundings mirror a successful, sexual, independent woman.
That is why I can keep that vision alive of being LS Harteveld.
If I would live for three weeks without a sewer, a bathroom, heating, or kitchen, and camp in my living room with an electric heater, an electric cooker and a chemical toilet;
I would betray her.
LS Harteveld would never settle for that. It would be impossible to develop myself and crush my new career under those circumstances.
So, that had been my decision making process weeks ago.
And in the end the Universe helped me to get it all done without spending any money. Thanks to two medical diagnosis, I was given the keys a temporary home.
It was all last minute, and this home too, had some renovations planned, during that period. But that wasn’t the worst.
I also had a cut internet cable, which was discovered under the pavement after four days of not having Wifi and countless calls to the provider.
I had a malfunctioning central heating, which combined with radiators being taken down temporarily for the renovations, led to ten days of dysfunctional heaters.
When all those things were finally fixed my happiness was immediately restored.
It was a relief to notice just how much energy and frustration had been directly linked to having workers and mechanics and malfunctioning everything.
But now it was all up, and for the remainder of my time I could live in my new apartment and sleep in a wonderful bed.
I even fantasized what it would be like, if my lover would come over, and play out my new consent fantasy.
It was a video from Twitter (I ve written about this before, but in case you missed that) with a petite brunette being fucked by a buff tattooed guy.
The lighting was poor, it was dark, and it was as if she was raped in her own bed.
Now I ll say it again: I didn’t for one minute believe this was real. It was just nice non-consensual-play porn.
Which made me terribly hot.
And being in this bed I didn’t know, in a house that was foreign to me, was the perfect spot for me to play this out.
I was hoping my lover would be able to make it, before I would go back to my own apartment.
And now that everything was up and running, I could make that happen.
Or so I thought.
Because you know what happened yesterday?
At 7.30 AM there was an asbestos renovation of the toilet, which the building cooperation had forgot to mention. But worse than that:
When I got back at 10 PM, totally wasted after a super-long day behind my desk, trying to get my work done, the toilet was not properly installed. It flooded straight into holes leading to the apartment downstairs.
Good thing I peed only a tiny little bit!
Anyway, I spent an hour making phone calls to the building cooperation, and talking to the downstairs neighbor on what to do, now that his apartment was flooding for the second time that day.
And around midnight I arrived back at my mother’s, who had made me a bed, for which I was so grateful.
I m now going home to see if they have everything installed again.
And if they haven’t I m taking a hotel.
I already know which one; I ve been curious about it for a long time!
Because I’m not spending another night at my mother’s.
I once read this story about two sisters who went on a holiday, and checked into a hotel that was far more basic, than they had anticipated.
One sister didn’t make a fuss about it.
But the other one insisted they’d find a better hotel.
Because this night was just as important as all others.
And it is.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

About this blog

A night as valuable as all others is Chapter 27 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

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new books

I m currently working on publishing my latest books:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

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.

Sex in the world between worlds

I was going to see him two weeks ago but I cancelled because of personal stuff going on in my life. Things I didn’t want to burden our date with.
To me our time together is sacred.

Yet I informed my lover Mr.Big on what was going on, the reason I was cancelling my date.
Which was a rarity already!
We never speak to each other about what’s going on in our lives.
We don’t have to. I usually share everything with the world, through these blog posts. And he just keeps his thoughts to himself. Sometimes I inquisitively poke his mind, knowing very well he’ll kick me out.
Just for fun.

So two weeks ago I did share the story about what was going in my life but it didn’t bring us closer together or anything. It was a confirmation that it was a good thing that we kept our affair so clean of drama.
Our dates were places of magic.

A realm where we were “only” lovers, and had been for the last four years.
Yet I never counted on this world to keep on existing. 
Even when he’d ask me out on a date, it could still go either way. Somewhere in the first year I had discovered that the chance that he would one day friend-zone me, was a lot higher than the risk he would ever fully break-up with me.
But this also made it more complicated to know where I was standing. And the past 6 to 8 weeks, had been particularly straining. I had effectively ignored the gnawing insecurity of not knowing where I stood.
But it had been there in the back of my mind none the less.
All the way through the entire holiday season.
I had no idea if we were still on, or if he had another lover and if that was a reason to stop having sex with me.  
Or maybe he wanted to save his marriage, and that required his full attention.
Maybe our dates would only be in cafes and other public places, from now on. Away from the seclusion of his apartment, the heart of our affair.
In retrospect I had been taking a huge risk, breaking our code of silence around our personal affairs on a moment where I had no idea what my status was.
Yet I dressed nice and was looking forward to our date like crazy. I seemed to be absolutely certain we were still on, even though I had no proof to back it up.
We had a lovely date, and he laughed at my uncertainty.
I drank wine, even though I have stopped drinking. It added to the feeling of otherworldliness, like a shamanistic experience where you drink a hallucinating beverage to travel across.
I was invited to come over to his house, and we had lovely sex. So new, almost uncomfortable even. But it made it extra special.
As if we really were two different people every time, in an ever changing relationship.
When I took a condom from his pack, I didn’t count or estimate if he had used them without me. When I went to the bathroom to clean up and I threw our condom in the bin, I didn’t look for traces of other women who might have been there recently. I even noticed a feeling somewhere between jealousy and excitement and became aware that I had chosen this insecurity.
That I liked the thrill of being chosen over and over.
Not out of scarcity, because I was the only one available. But because I wasn’t and he still wanted to see me.
If there really was or had been someone else, I didn’t have to know the details because Mr.Big gave me the only thing that mattered: His full attention.
He was the perfect lover, in the perfect place:
Our world between worlds. 

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

About this blog

Sex in the wold between worlds is Chapter 26 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

The subscription button to this blog is on this page, probably on the right.

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

new books

I m currently working on publishing my latest books:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

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.

 

Where the operatic section comes in

Monday morning and hell did I have a memorable weekend! 
I watched too much porn, became a vegetarian, (and the two were related, believe it or not!) got an agent, and saw Bohemian Rhapsody for the eleventh time on a way bigger screen.
A friend even pointed out something I managed to miss the previous ten times:
When Freddie Mercury pitches his record to a gay radio host named Kenny, his girlfriend watches them talk and have fun.
My friend whispered:
“Now she sees it.”
Yes!
How did I miss?
The moment his girlfriend Mary realizes Freddie Mercury is gay, was missed by me the first ten times.
Usually Sunday afternoon’s Bohemian Rhapsody is sold out, so I was surprised we could even get in.
But the art house theater was showing it in their multi-functional space (not a dedicated movie theater), with a way bigger screen.
I think they were so sick and tired of selling No every Sunday they were like:
“Okay! That’s it! We’re going XXL!”
It was a much bigger audience than usual, and the first time people were engaged in the movie. With laughs and ohs and ahs.
It was so contagious that I even had to laugh (inaudibly!) before the last joke of the movie.
The band is waiting in their trailer for Live Aid, and Mary and her boyfriend David have just dropped by to say hello. They’ve left now.
“What do we think of David?” Freddie Mercury asks.
The rest of the band are slightly embarrassed but one of them utters:
“He seems like an okay chap.”
Freddie Mercury sighs.
“I think he’s gay.”
Seeing the movie was illustrative for my weekend:
I didn’t expect to be surprised. And yet I was.
I thought I knew what was coming. And then I didn’t.
I thought I knew the joke, and that it would prohibit me from laughing.
I was wrong on all accounts.
That’s how I Alice in Wonderlanded myself through this vegetarian-porn-agent-movie-weekend. Walking a fine line between love and hate; Thrown between surprise and setback; And uncertain if things were either great opportunities or if I was signing my own downfall.
And if there even was a difference, for us writers?
Or is the risk of it going wrong (in a worldly sense), a characteristic of it being the right choice for a creative?

Here were this weekend’s questionable vegetarian-porn-agent choices:

vegetarian porn

About two weeks ago I saw a simple but totally hot porn clip. It was on Twitter, and it featured a tattooed guy and a petite brunette.
That was all I had to go on, to search for it.
Unless you think it helps to start a search on “rapey sex” on Twitter.
I don’t even want to know what shows up if you do that.

And it wasn’t useful to check the timelines of the porn actors I follow either, first of all because there are so many. And secondly, because I recall this clip not being posted by someone I follow.
Most likely it was a tweet from a performer or porn account I ultimately chose not to follow.
And I didn’t even “like” the tweet with the clip either.
Which was costing me dearly, because otherwise I could have browsed my “liked tweets” list!
But I never “like” (mark with a heart) porn clips on Twitter, because they show up in the TLs of people who follow you.
I think it’s funny and slightly rebellious, that my followers see recommendations such as:
“LS Harteveld follows” over a tweet with double penetration.
But I m too shy, or suave, or maybe too much of a flat-out liar to then actually like that tweet.
Well worse!
I do like it, as in the feelings I have towards it!
But then I don’t reward the video with a like-heart, because I don’t want people to see I watched it.
And this weekend that cowardice behavior came back with a vengeance!
Because I was still thinking about the clip, masturbated to it and everything.
I was getting slightly panicky at the thought of how difficult it was going to be to find it back.
In the unlikely event you think you can help me, here are the specs:
– video about two people fucking, in a bed, poorly lit. Missionary with petite long-haired brunette and a big tattooed guy on top covering her mouth with his hand.
It was this feature with the hand, that gave the video it’s fascinating rapey, non-consensual, appeal. The reason I m still determined to mine through Twitter until I find it.
– length: 1 minute or so
– visual: black and white/ or very dark. As if “the abuse” takes place at night, and is shot by a clandestine camera.
Don’t worry, the man gets off from her and she sits up. They’re probably going to change position, and the camera sways more towards the end of the bed.
And there were other signs too, that it was regular porn and not something creepy. For example, he doesn’t cover her mouth for “real”, just occasionally.
That’s the description of the clip I have been searching for.
So far I ve spent six hours total I think, trying to retrieve it.
I started with the Twitter account of one brunette porn star, going through her TL until Christmas last year, and I would note down Twitter names of other female actors who fit the profile and of tattooed actors I saw in the videos.
With some accounts it took me half an hour, to browse back for one month.
I don’t have my computer at home, due to a set of boring circumstances all elaborately explained in previous blogposts.
So I had to do it on my phone.
Up to half an hour per actor, and clicking any clip that didn’t provide a screenshot (so I didn’t know what it was).
Saturday night I went to sleep feeling totally wasted from four hours of porn browsing on my phone. I felt like that princess from Rumpelstiltskin where she gets impossible sorting assignments.
If evil Rumpelstiltskin had offered to help me out, I would have taken it.
I went to sleep and had a dream so heartbreaking and awful, I woke up a vegetarian. And I think it had to do with the timeline from the last porn star I had been browsing: A buff tattooed male vegan actor, who tweeted about animal rights in between porn videos.
I did not even watch the animal rights things.
But apparently I didn’t even have to, in order to be sent off on a guilt-trip dream.
So the story now is that porn made me a vegetarian.
Which is a good story.
And I ve decided I will write about what I dreamed.
So if you don’t want to read it, just like I didn’t want to watch or read the animal rights tweets in the actor’s timeline, then just skip to the next paragraph.
(…)
(…)
Okay, so the dream that made me a vegetarian was this:
I was in the meat department of a very fancy supermarket, or it was a huge buffet with refrigerated sections.
On one place a baby donkey the size of a rabbit was lying on ice, but it was still alive/ breathing.
Which was of course horrible.
But while I was still trying to get my head around to what I was seeing here, I noticed another donkey on a silver platter. It was the height of a Jack Russell, maybe slightly smaller, and it was trying to get up onto its hooves.
The slippery surface of the silver platter nearly made that impossible, but it kept on trying.
Ultimately the miniature donkey succeeded, and walked off. Straight to the foal on the ice. It pulled it off, and started licking it to life, but the baby donkey had stopped breathing.
I woke up and decided I would never eat meat again.

The threat of a real job

This weekend was the first time, I went out again with the man who had arranged a job for me last summer. I can’t remember how much I told him about why I had pulled out of applying for the job.
But from the barely hidden eagerness to hire me again, as soon as I would find out I wouldn’t be able to make a living from writing, I concluded that either he wanted me dead, or I had actually failed to mention that the job offer had made me suicidal.
I ve even put myself under doctor supervision, so that if I get suicidal again under the threat of having to work a normal job, my doctor knows my recent medical history.
In response to our date, I developed pain in my chest again.
And I had basically already decided that this was insane, and that I wasn’t going to see him again, until I realized that keeping him around was actually a good thing.
Because my situation is still stressful. I m not out of the danger zone of becoming suicidal.
Not at all.
But it does look and feel that way because I have enough money to not work for a while and to publish my books. But after that my position is exactly the same as it was summer 2018.
And UNLESS I come up with a way to earn money, I will have to accept a job and become unhappy in it. Or kill myself because I don’t want to live if I can’t do my own thing, and writing is banished to the evening hours.
He is a walking talking threat of the life I have to live if I fail.
It’s like what Frodo saw in the mirror of Galadriel, the nightmarish vision of hobbits enslaved in the Shire.
“I know what it is you saw, ” Galadriel says.
“For it is also in my mind. It is the future, Frodo.
It is what will come to pass if you should fail.
If Frodo fails to destroy the ring, his people will be enslaved by Sauron.
If I fail to make a living writing books, I will be enslaved by a normal job.
A thought that still makes me suicidal.
But fully awake!
Having a friend who triggers my fear of a normal job, keeps me in touch with 2018. With how horrible I felt, and what is at stake here.
To succeed or die.
“Even” if the last one might “only” mean spiritually.

The Agent

I had already decided that I wasn’t going to do regular PR for my books. No TV, no radio, but most of all; no hassle to getting booked.
After I ve published the four books I m currently working on, my daily activities will be:
1. Write a blog post.
2. Make a video.
3. Daily sales and finance.
And that’s it.
If I would be invited to speak somewhere, that would have to be leisure time because my work day is already full.
My YouTube and my daily blog would be my PR, and nothing else.
But then my friend and me got into this brainstorm session about her future and my future, and before I had actually thought about it, I said:
“Well, if it appeals to you, you could be my manager. Get me speaking gigs and everything. And you would get us a good deal.”
Her eyes started glowing with excitement.
Me opening up to the idea of speaking as a way to making a living, was due to (or thanks to) the other professional friend, breathing down my neck.
As well as the realization that I would probably actually like speaking!
I have an authentic vision and message, on many, many things.
Yoga, sex, purpose, happiness.
Men, #metoo, power, manipulation and how to get away with it.
You can ask me pretty much anything, and I will give you an answer you have never thought of before.
And aside from me liking speaking, and my spiritual or physical suicide waiting for me if I fail to make a living for myself, there was a third reason why having a manager and getting into public speaking spoke to me.
Because public speaking is related to making a name for myself as a writer.
Whereas a consultancy job clearly isn’t.
And a fourth reason our collaboration spoke to me, was that every time I thought about needing someone to grow my business, I had discarded the plans because i didn’t want to run the risk of being scammed by corrupt managers or anything.
Whereas my friend is professional, but fair.
I ve worked with her in the past, and our friendship has survived something in our business relationship going sour, because both of us could see the conflict was just unforeseen circumstances combined with a conflict of interest.
Not because either one of us was trying to scam the other.
She’s one of the few people I can trust blindly.
And even if my friend becoming my manager and agent, would go horribly wrong, it would still make a hell of a story.

Because although I just spent the weekend eye-to-eye with death, am wasting countless hours searching for porn on Twitter, and might blow up a friendship by getting in business together;
The worst path I could possibly choose to becoming a 7-figure Rock Star Writer, is the one with nothing worth writing about. 

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

About this blog

Where the operatic section comes in is Chapter 25 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

new books

I m currently working on publishing my latest books:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog, 7-Figure Rock Star Writer.
The subscription button is somewhere on this page, probably on the right.

Sex on Kairos time

I m here, on a Thursday, behind my desk, and I ve just spent the first two hours of my day on an eclectic combination of sorting my Deleted Emails box (yeah, don’t ask!), texting with a friend, reading motivational blogs, and studying articles on the Greek concept of Kairos;
A concept of time when you’re totally absorbed in the moment. 
Time-less-ness.
Awareness of Now and non-awareness of Self.

The time of creativity and breakthroughs.
I know Kairos time from when I’m writing, when I can go on for hours without food and am totally absorbed by my work. But I also know it from spending time with my lover. After four years, 
two hours with him still feel like an eternity.
A heightened awareness of every second.

I intended to write about Kairos, this unruly brother of our linear chronological time.
Until I realized I had nothing to say, or nothing new. There is so much out there already, on Chronos (or Kronos) versus Kairos.
This is the best description I have found:

Kronos is mechanistic and deterministic, time that is ruled by the dead hand of the past. Kronos devours us with remorseless certainty. Kronos turns life into stone.

Kairos is creative and serendipitous.
Kairos is time that is energized by the living dream of the future and presents us with unlimited possibility. Kairos turns fate into destiny.

~Lonnie Kliever, Artellamagazine, 2003. 

The other reason I didn’t want to write about Kairos after all, was because I had connected it to my daily writing;
On weekdays, I start the day by writing a blog post and it will go on until it’s done. This could be ninety minutes of writing, or eight hours.
I was incredibly proud of being able to say that!
“I m on Kairos time! Blog posts will go on for as long as the have to!”
* belching laughter *
But this morning that same Kairos time showed me that it’s not that simple. That maybe I want to study, or clear-out my Inbox. And that although I know that all those “Don’t procrastinate!” warnings, and even the “Eat two frogs every morning!” success rule (know that one?), have never proven to be useful to me, STILL!, I felt slightly embarrassed that I spent this morning not writing.
Not eating frogs.
Doing nothing productive.
And then I felt even more embarrassed because I knew it was only a sign that I was a slave to Chronos thinking. Even I, had no idea what Kairos time was really about.
Even I, could not accept that Kairos time starts with not having plans on what should be done. It starts with creating space for things to happen. For things to unfold. And also with a tuning in. With above.
Because Kairos is 
also called God’s Time, divine time. The idea that things will happen when they need to happen, and that it is your duty to create space, so you can be led.
In the first week of January, I started writing a sex book, offline. 

And at the risk of being blasphemous, talking about God and this topic in one blog post, I would like to refer to it.
So the book was about sexual non-consent play.
And it fucked with my head so much, that it destabilized my life within 7 days. Nice religious reference here, but it really was 7 days of uncreating, and unbalancing.
I decided to drop the project and go back to online writing.
But I remember the shocking conclusion of the last chapter I wrote.
It was that everything from the power play to the play-rape;
To the sexual acts that I find intriguing or which I downright love;
Were not nearly as deviant or strange I thought them to be.
I even concluded that non-consensual play with my lover, easily qualified as my most spiritual side.

You know why?
Because it is completely in the moment.
When you’re playing on the boundaries of non-consent, you’re both fully engaged in what’s going on. You can’t go through the moves, you can’t rely on what you did last time.
Our consent play teleports us to a magical place, where it’s just the two of us, but even we are different here.
Him and me, we’re not our usual selves. We’re filled with potential, with everything we can be, everything we want to be.
But most of all, it’s such an otherworldly experience because we are aware of the NOW.
We really are suddenly on Kairos time.

Wild and unruly.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

About this blog

Sex on Kairos time is Chapter 24 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

new books

I m currently working on publishing my latest books:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog, 7-Figure Rock Star Writer.
The subscription button is somewhere on this page, probably on the right.

Hacking Happiness. For good. | Purpose Church with LS Harteveld

Before we begin, let me get one thing clear.
The term “Purpose Church” is not my invention.
It’s from a coach called Katrina Ruth (Icon would be a better description than coach, but okay) whose Facebook page you can find here.
She uses the term Purpose Church for when her live streams get into preacher mode. She even has a banner hashtag PurposeChurchwithKat, which she may or may not choose to put up before she presses “Go live”.
But even more than borrowing the title Purpose Church from her,
my entire happiness hack would not have even existed, if I had not been diligently reprogramming my mind since December 2016, using her YouTube, her daily blog, and her paid programs.
I will credit myself for doing the WORK, but it was Katrina consistently showing up on social media to preach to the peoples, that allowed me to do so.
Because not doing the work, when Katrina Ruth is showing up every day, to give you anything you need to make your life a success, FOR FREE?
That’s almost rude.
Really.
If you feel a click with her, anyway.
So my first two reasons for bringing up Katrina Ruth are because I borrowed her term Purpose Church, and because I credit her consistent presence on social media for shaping me into the person I am today.
But there is a third one.
And that is because I m beginning to see that the difference between being happy and powerful, or frustrated and confused, is two things;
1.  an awareness of power dynamics, and conflicts of interest in ALL relationships.
2.  having purpose
But that’s theory.
In practice it is only one:
PURPOSE
Once you have purpose, you can drop studying power dynamics, because you’ll be so fired up pushing your own agenda, you simply don’t have time to put up with your employer signing you up for mandatory morning group chants.
An obsession to lose weight.
Be good.
Be accepted in any way.
Instead you’ll be like: “I have better things to do.”

Lately I ve come into contact with the work of two philosophers, Menno de Bree and Carl Cederström. 

Life for beginners | Menno de Bree | TEDxGroningen

Becoming optimized, from happiness to productivity | Carl Cederstrom&Andre Spicer | TEDxBratislava

The striking similarity between the two talks, and also the talk of Carl Cederström I attended yesterday in Lux Nijmegen, is how our desire to be successful in our work, makes us manipulable.
Our employers are using our pursuit of happiness – which we are translating as the pursuit of a fulfilling job – to make us internalize their productivity goals.
Menno De Bree states that because we are using our jobs to succeed on a personal level, if we lose our job, we don’t just have an economic problem, we have an existential problem.
We mistake how valuable we are at work, for how valuable we are are as humans. 

What I m stating here is that PURPOSE is the answer to becoming less manipulable at our work. And also to develop ourselves, be authentic, and yes, happy!
Purpose is the missing link in all problems regarding the pursuit of happiness.
And it’s not even half as complicated as you might think.
Purpose makes happiness surprisingly easy to attain, and not
mysterious at all.

Let me first illustrate how purpose will make you more defiant in the workplace.

the Workplace and purpose

There’s two scenarios, here.

The first is that your purpose lies within your job.
In this case, purpose will help you defend yourself towards an overbearing employer.
You’ll easily ward off the next employee program giving it a firm:
“I’ve got better things to do.”
Purpose within your career makes you pretty much immune for any trick the employer tries to pull on you.
It reminds me of Winston Churchill in The Darkest Hour, telling the king their weekly meeting could not be in the afternoon, because he needed to nap.
“Is that even allowed?” the king asked.
“I don’t think so,” Churchill replied. “But I m afraid it’s absolutely nessecary.”
Winston Churchill was an alcoholic, a workaholic, and he was the only thing that was standing between England and Hitler.
He didn’t have time for formalities.

The second scenario is that your purpose is not within your work, but outside of your work. Your salary is paying for your purpose.
In this case you’ll just do whatever you need to do to keep your job. You may find ways to make work less annoying or even enjoyable.
Yet “all” it will ever be, is a way to finance your real life, your purpose.
It prevents you from being manipulable by an employer, nor will you easily be swayed by the popular idea that happiness revolves around an authentic career in the first place.
An example would be if you have a job, but you’re also a YouTuber. Every night you have just enough time to make a new video, edit and upload.
Working late would mean you can’t film.
Since you took the job, because it allowed you to be a YouTuber – you will hard limit here.
Because your job is there to support the purpose.
The purpose is not there to support the job.

In both cases having purpose protects you from society or your employer injecting THEIR agenda into you.
If you don’t have a purpose, you re walking around with this huge hole in your soul, that will be filled by the first one coming close.
Not having a purpose is the most dangerous way anybody can live, because it makes you susceptible to anything from becoming a personal development junkie, to getting entangled in an organizational web, and even to joining terrorist organizations. 
In my opinion, not having purpose is the root of all evil, including unhappiness.
Which brings me to the question I promised I d answer for you:
How do we get purpose?

Purpose made simple

The dreaded word right? PURPOSE?
Elizabeth Gilbert points out in her book Big Magic, how intimidating the word Passion is – which is similar to purpose.
And she also gives a wonderful solution!
She states that if you have a passion, you’re probably already following that.
So her advice is for the people who don’t know what their passion is.
(don’t know what their purpose is…)
She gives passion in its earliest stages, a new name:
Curiosity.
Just forget about an all consuming passion and instead do tiny things that spark joy.
At a time in her life when Elizabeth Gilbert didn’t feel any passion, she bought some herbs for her garden. And then she started studying how she could take care of them.
A few years later, she had written an entire novel about a botanist.
Her curiosity had become a new passion project.
This doesn’t mean that curiosity doesn’t have any value, if you drop the subject.
Curiosity are miniature adventures, that may or may not end up being great adventures or passions. It’s all okay.

The similarity between Elizabeth Gilbert studying herbs;
The YouTuber filming every night;
And even Winston Churchill saving the country;
Is that they would all still be doing it, if no one paid them.

The things you do without getting paid, are the key to your happiness.

can you answer these questions?

Question 1:
What are the things you would want to do, watch, or undertake,
about which you have little to no knowledge or experience?

That is your curiosity.

Question 2:
What are the things you like doing, which you would still be doing if no one paid you? If there was no outcome, if they never became monotizable or if they stopped making you money?

That is your passion.

Question 3:
What is the thing that deeply fulfills you, and that you would go through great lengths to still do even when it would start costing (more) money, time, friendships, hours sleep, and unexpected setback would make it hard?

Now THAT my friend, is your purpose.

And happiness?
That is the feeling of deep fulfillment of living a life based on curiosity, on passion or on purpose.

And you may end up saving an entire nation while you re at it.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

About this blog

Hacking Happiness. For good. | Purpose Church with LS Harteveld
is Chapter 23 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

Follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.

new books

I m currently working on publishing my latest books:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)

The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog, 7-Figure Rock Star Writer.
The subscription button is somewhere on this page, probably on the right.

 

Let’s cut the crap shall we? { Notes from the publishing room }

I remember last Tuesday, when I was getting myself all setup and ready to start my 21 day book publishing SPRINT in my new temporary residence, only to find out the Wifi wasn’t working. I jokingly remarked on social media;
“Apparently Life wants me to have a  three week holiday instead.”
The wit of someone who has lost one workday.
I moved my computer to my mother’s house and could still crack jokes about it.
However, after I lost the second workday to personal circumstances;
A third vaporized due to unforeseen things and an appointment  I’d already made;
And I lost my Friday to an early morning mechanic from the contractor (I have escaped renovations in my own apartment – but in this temporary house they have some relatively minor renovations too);
And I was called by the cable company after I had just finished coffee at my mom’s house, and had to come home again?
I wasn’t in the mood for jokes anymore.
Of course I was happy the cable company had finally switched gears after three days, and was coming over to check things out. The main cable, buried under the pavement, turned out to have been damaged. This had not been one of those reset your modem thingies.
But as I was packing my bag yet again, breaking off the last workday of the week before it had even started, I cursed for having made Tuesday’s smart-ass remark that I now had a three week holiday:
“I WAS ONLY JOKING!”
And before that incredible, utterly non-productive week, I had already “wasted” the first week of my 30 day sabbatical, because of an unexpected turn of events.
There I had been.
Offline.
30 Days all to myself, to go publish my books and to write offline about a highly personal subject: My sexual preference for playing rough, like play rape or other role playing games.
I wanted to write my book on sexual consent play offline.
It blended in with the 30 day publishing sabbatical, but I also wanted to write it offline to ensure I would go all in. And to not hold anything back because I was afraid to publish/post/share it through a blog.
I published a carefree chapter; A boyfriend like Jon Bongiovi An analysis of my sexuality as a teen.
But for the other chapters of my offline project, I dove into my mind, and did deep soul searching. I was eager! It felt like I was closing in on something.
Until I realized what I was closing in on, was ME.
Writing this book was like pushing myself towards a cliff.
It was a rude awakening, and I stopped immediately.
2018 was the first time in my life I have ever felt suicidal, and I know now all of it is related;
– the week of non-consensual soul searching that destabilized me
– the recurring nights awake due to stress
– the constant crying
– my heart complaints
– last year’s suicidal thoughts, for the first ever time in my life.
Even losing an entire week due to renovations, moving house and wifi problems is ultimately just a sign of not having your head straight. If you re focused as fuck – you WILL do the work regardless of what life throws at you.
But the good news is, I now understand all of these things are caused by the same causes. And more importantly, will most likely become manageable once I have stabilized my life.
By NOT searching deeply into my soul.
Stick with fixed working hours.
Have weekends off.
And to be very cautious to ever touch the subject of consent play again.
Just to illustrate why I m being so careful: Last Friday, when I started this blog post, I added a chapter from my book on consent play.
How could that hurt right?
I mean, it wasn’t even sexual.
So I copied, pasted, edited, rewrote. And although I blamed not finishing on not having enough time, I knew it was something else.
That including the chapter in this post was making me sick.
It was, is, still destabilizing me.
I need to give up on the book on sexual consent play. I don’t want to, because I felt blessed that I had been “given” such an interesting topic to write about. And at a point in my life when I thought my life would be editing and publishing my old books.
Meh. Boring!
So ungrateful to toss it aside.
But this topic has already cost me a week of writing, and it has totally derailed me.
I go between thinking I will pick it up in the future, when I m bored or so stable I need some serious excitement. And thinking that maybe I don’t want to.
That maybe the trick with my writing, is that it NEEDS TO BE ABSOLUTELY FREE.
I can’t write a book limiting myself beforehand that “this and this” is going to be the topic. And in particular not when the topic is sexual consent play (or should I say non-consent play?). The topic is too heavy, too political.
Maybe there is a reason nobody investigates consent play, and that it’s being brushed off with “it being really normal for women to have rape fantasies”.
Maybe that really is all you can say about it, without going mad.
At least for me.

<3LSH
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

I m back! 

Let’s cut the crap shall we? is Chapter 22 of my diary 7-figure Rock Star Writer

It marks the ending of my brave but stupid attempt to not blog, and to take a 30 day sabbatical in order to publish my books.
Because after two weeks I can see that the time freed up by not blogging, up to 7 hours a day, was not spent publishing my books. Instead it just drew in drama, meltdowns and unforeseen circumstances.

So I ll be back blogging, and also still publish my books.
These are:
1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2018
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)
The best way to receive updates on when these books are ready is to follow this blog. 
The subscription button is somewhere on this page, probably on the right.

Or follow on Facebook or Twitter,
NEW connect on Linkedin

My diaries en erotica are available at 
my BOOK SHOP
25% discount on all prices
If you check your cart, you can select your store
f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.