Writing – Arts – Music – Psychotherapy – Meditation
Författare: franciskavonkoch
Though writing, playing music, painting and working using music with elderly people, I alsoI serve as a mindfulness and meditation teacher in the Insight (Vipassana) tradition since 2003 and I am a certified Expressive Arts Therapist. I am also a student of the Ridwhan school, (Diamond Approach) since 2005.
Oh dear, it’s too long since I last updated my blog! What have I been up to you may ask. I wonder, while Face booking eats up my time! But I promise to give more attention to you now, my dear reader. Life plays out its drama while something deep down is very still. As a working class hero I hope this will be my last year as employed, and that my time for writing will increase with my retirement in 2020. In the mean while loving, playing, meditating, having time for creativity plus hanging out in nature has a priority. Next week I will share with you how that happens this Summer. Until then I pray for your happiness and wellbeing. And if you still have not read my book, you can order it below and enjoy a good Summer reading. Three bows… SisKaLi, Franciska
Blessings from my hermitage
Absolutely stunning and the fact that this is non-fiction, that this is a true story, makes it even more interesting. Told with a warm and endearing voice, Franciska von Koch brings to life the people she met while living as the young Swedish bride in the Pakistani home of Shahid and his family. Franciska von Koch paints a moving portrait of her alter ego Magdalena’s trials in the Swat Valley of northern Pakistan, the beauty of the countryside, the love of her husband and his welcoming family and the eventual collapse of their dream.Sieve the light
Time for my promised english update: Since this is not a diary, nor a travel blog, i wont be telling you about how it was to come back from India to Sweden in the middle of the Winter. Its enough to say that it is always a dance between extremes and a paradox, since Sweden and India is about as far away as you can get in opposite culture and believe me, if you are Indian and you think you want to live in Sweden, forget it. What you will get is a country where everything is extremely clean, where no one speaks to you on the subway, where you get your salary on time but everything is so expensive that you only feel rich if you translate the value into rupees. Here in Sweden people are individualists, they live alone, and are autonomous. You will most likely feel very lonely, because as an Indian you have learned to always be in company of others, friends, family, society, animals and everywhere there is an outburst of living creatures. So the dream of the fantastic West is usually not what one holds in ones dreams. At the same time as a Swedish women going to India I am not only fortunate since my money is worth 8 times its value but I can also choose what to do and how to live when I am in India, which I believe is not always the case for Indian women.
I miss waking up in the morning hearing the sounds of a world waking up; a dog barking, a prayer from some temple or mosque, sounds of a roaming cow, the birds, the sun that dawns while someone sweeps the ground in front of the house. What I don’t miss of course is the pollution and all the traffic. I am grateful for being able to meditate at the foot of Arunachala the holy mountain that is considered to be Shiva.
Below you see the temple that is in Sri Ramanas ashram. Below is a photo from the days in the early 80tis when I studied Indian Classical music. Thank you India for remaining India my love.
Det första som hörs är en avlägsen bil i natten. Sedan lång mörk välsignad morgontystnad i den indiska ljumma temperaturen. Nästa ljud en kossa som råmar, efter en stund ett hundskall och så det välbekanta ljudet från någon som sopar. Innan fler trafikljud och människosorl annonserar dagens ankomst hör jag en toalett som spolar, sången från minareten. Dags att gå upp nu och gå till templet för att meditera i den gamla hallen där Ramana Maharishi brukade sitta, så stilla och vänligt där. Det är en av mina sista dagar i Indien för den här gången. Mitt älskade Indien! Jag älskar vad du gör med mig, vem jag ”blir”, lugnet inom mig. Snart går jag längs den uppvaknande staden, möter kor som blir mjölkade vid väggrenen, hundar som ännu sover i sin gropar, folk som stannar till med sina fordon för att gå in och bli välsignade i något tempel, innan de far vidare till sina arbeten, innan jag släntrar in på ashramområdet och tar av mina sandaler. Snart sitter jag i det tysta rummet tillsammans med ett tjugotal andra i skräddarställning på golvet och landar i den djupaste stillheten inom mig. Sedan kan dagens övriga aktiviteter börja. Fortsättning på skrivandet och lunch med väninna.
”…En gammal farbror med vitt skägg och turban ser mild och snäll ut då han stillsamt erbjuder oss sin cykeltaxi. Vi har kommit fram sent till Varanasi, (eller Benares som det fortfarande kallades 1976, engelsmännens namn på staden). Han tar fram en ask tändstickor med en bild av Mahatma Ghandi på och tänder varsamt en stearinljusstump som han placerar i en lykta som hänger längs fram på cykeln, så gulligt! Elsa och jag ler mot varandra, lyktan kan väl inte lysa upp vägen, men farbror slänger vant den rutiga schalen över axeln, den som ibland tjänar som handduk, ibland turban och ofta just en schal och hoppar nöjt upp på cykeln med oss sittande bak på trehjulingen med vårt bagage vid fötterna. Allt tycks mig gå i ultrarapid, kor och människor lunkar likt sovande på gatorna på väg mot sina boningar. I luften anar jag en svag doft av rök och fukt och här och var syns människor sovandes under något skynke. Sista biten får vi gå pekar vår cykeltaxichaufför och tar emot slanten vi ger honom och virar in den i en dold gömma i schalen. Vårt guesthouse nära Dasavameth Ghat ligger inne längs en smal gränd och har ett tempel tillägnat elefantpojken Ganesh vid entrén. Det gör mig glad, för långt borta är de tabun mot avbildningar av gudomar som jag tvingats anamma under det år då jag bodde i Pakistan…”
Indien, mitt andra hemland, fyllt av kaos, buller, avgaser och själslig närvaro. Sitter och redigerar text jag skrev för två år sedan då jag sist var här på semester från mitt jobb. När jag jobbar hemma i Sverige har jag inte den tiden. Men lite taget, det växer fram. Fortsättningen på min första bok tar längre tid än jag kunnat ana, men den får ta den tid den vill. Jag har inte bråttom, vill bara vara sann! Det kanske tar tio år till…..
This photo was shot in an instant this morning when I saw through… Behind and through the structure you see the Mountain Arunachala The structure is the mind that becomes more transparent with meditation The mountain is the timeless presence and is called (Shiva) Arunachala.
Arunachala the Sacred Mountain
This is one of the metaphors that came to me today – coming out of the meditation hall, after breakfast this morning – my mind was dwelling in a greater vastness that touched my heart deeply. What normally would be considered as an ugly building construction that is disturbing the view, became a beautiful description and metaphor. In the beginning of our spiritual path we don’t see the forest for all the trees, (as they say in Sweden). We are so full of ourselves, our own mind, thoughts, beliefs, opinions, emotional issues, desires and fantasies. With the practice of meditation this ”veil of the mind” gets thinner and more transparent. We get to see what is behind.
Nandi the Bull
Perfect devotee Nandi, the Bull sits outside every Shiva temple with an unwavering look on his beloved, Shiva. I understand this as the human contemplation with no distraction concentrated on the target, the empty dwelling in the heart, just staying there and all gets clear, structures fall away, space becomes wast and the truth is seen clearly, the presence that holds everything.
A friend told me of her experience as a window, another metafor. I contemplated her word ”window”- beautiful! Yes I thought to myself, there is an open window Which can be felt as a heart Where there can be felt a crack A sweet wound Through which I can enter Into vastness And in that dwelling There is no you or me Only presence Timeless vast and all one Then there is no coming or going – in to it It just may appear so for the person/mind Thoughts may arise or not The heart will not be affected Heart=abiding presence All words fall short It may look like a station, (for the person) as if one enters or leaves but we know this is not really true Here nothing comes and goes 🙏🙏🙏only love abides Kali, Franciska von Koch, South India one of those blessed days
About isolation, love, abusive spiritual teachers and my true story
I tell myself today, its just another morning. When taking it for granted it is a big mistake. And that is how I relieve myself from my emotional story of pain, how I return to innocent presence, without entanglement. And then and there, in this moment I become free of the past.
From a photo project coming up – bathing in the shadow of the Sun
We had Christmas and New years is coming up, a time that we hopefully spend with loved near and dear ones. I did get invited to very dear friends and it was sweet and now as New Years is coming up it is a time that I find myself being somewhat isolated in my cabin in the countryside. Its my choice and not my choice at the same time. I will use my free time to write and take walks in the woods. Wishing I was one of those poets like Mary Oliver, living alone writing in nature. But my need for community / communication / mirroring is to strong, so I end up on social media and here I am. This is not a cry for mercy or empathy, I just like to share and reflect some things that concerns me.
Since I grew up with a large family and lots of festivities, I find myself pretty isolated as I live alone and don’t have kids of my own. I sort of decided not to spend another Christmas or New Years in Sweden unless I have a partner/family next year. Unless I am totally content with my situation being alone without a sense of context, unless I can appreciate my situation and enjoy it, I wont spend it alone.
My book and true story in Swedish and English touches upon many cultural beliefs, abusive spiritual thinking and adventure.
So this begins to look like a very narcissistic text that I am writing which hits the nail why I am self-judgemental: it was not allowed in my childhood, to feel needy, dependant and emotional. You can imagine what that does to a young child. I toughened up and developed a very thick skinn. Today this skinn has had a major meltdown so everything is up to my face, I feel it all and its good, because when it can be felt all the way to its core, then it can be digested and there lays a treasure there, at the center. A treasure of being and presence. And that topic along with why I have the name ”Kali” along with my given name is something I will write more about in a coming blog text. So now over to another topic.
I have been reading some very upsetting articles about some existing cults that uses spiritual language and where appalling sexual abuse is taking place. It is no less then horrifying. Since I am a very dedicated spiritual meditator and an experienced ”Dharma-walker” with lifelong experiences of teachers and gurus I really hate cults and abusive teachers. Sure we are all humans, all teachers no matter how wise they may be, are humans, which means instinctual, sexual, power-issues can take over in moments. But there is no excuse for abuse. The greater power an individual has the greater is the responsibility.
Since I am also a Psychotherapist I get very engaged in matters that touches abuse in Spiritual paths and abusive teachers who not only misguide people but also damage them. So here comes a very disturbing information about the misuse of the word Tantra, and other old sacred teachings that have been totally misunderstood. When you open the link you find a lot of things you may want to know if you are interested in this subject: https://gurumag.com/
Since my writing journey begun and I published my first story in Swedish it has come out in English. I want to share with you a review of My book ”Uncommon Ground” by Ken Schubert which touches me a lot:
”Masterfully written drama of the modern world” A Romeo and Juliet tale of doomed passion, this book traces the evolution of two earnest souls bound together in the maelstrom of the late twentieth century. With an unerring eye for detail and a tantalizing detachment that comes from innocence wrapped in hard-won maturity, the narrator portrays the similarities and differences between two cultures in the process of radical upheaval and transformation. The characters, both the protagonists and their families, come to life like photographs in a scrapbook, suggestive and palpable. The reader follows the journey of a young woman, wise and bewildered beyond her years, as she finds a balance between the desire for surrender and independence. The guileless, sure-handed translation brings out the colors and universality of the narrative. Highly recommended for anyone who is seeking a masterfully written drama that weaves together the paradoxes of the past half century of human history.
Sommaren sprang ifrån oss snabbare en flyktigt och nu är det redan första advent, gnistrande vita kristaller i natten och ljusen som redan tänds vid 15 här i norden.
JULAFTON – INTE BARA ROLIGT
Men nu är det ”familjens” tid som närmar sig med köpkraft och glitter De som ingen har får hitta på något annat volontärarbete rulla tummarna gömma sig hitta någon att ta hand om skåda sin navel engagera sig i ett konstnärligt projekt jobba gå i ide eller baka pannkakor själv fantiserade jag i fjol om att ta gitarren och gå ner på gatan och sjunga sånger om jordens undergång eller nåt ”Somliga går med trasiga skor” kunde också ha fungerat Som barn hade vi alltid någon ensam ”farbror Bob” med på julafton Mamma sa att han inte hade någonstans att va Vart ”tanterna” tog vägen vet jag inte Min mormor dog ensam på långvården ja lite funderingar i den gnistrande vinternatten enklare blir det för den som kan reflektera sin spegelbild någonstans i någon annan, eller Facebook man kan vara ensam tillsammans också ”tror jag avskaffar julen i år”, sa jag i fjol eller alternativt………. lämnade blankt…… så något nytt kan komma in att resa bort är bra förr om åren var jag ofta i Indien en gång blev jag bjuden på schweizisk choklad på bordet stod en 3 cm hög julgran i plast så enkelt nu jobbar jag med äldre där utsattheten är påtaglig inte alla får besök har du någon gammal på ett hem så glöm inte bort hen en dag är det du själv som sitter där
JULKLAPPAR
Om du tänkt köpa en klapp eller två hoppas jag du vill köpa ”Omvänt uppror” som är en unik historia, såtillvida att jag har varit en av ” de andra” och berättar med egna ord hur det livet är – om isolering, hemlängtan och främlingskap men också om kärlek och en gränslös gästvänlighet. Jag har själv upplevt hur det är att som kvinna befinna sig i en kultur i ett främmande land – precis som så många kvinnor gör i dag i Sverige – utan att ha valt det själva, eftersom de tvingats på flykt från sina hemländer. Det är mycket sorgligt att kvinnor tvingas bära burka i Sverige idag, jag tycker att man bör lagstifta emot det. Däremot känns slöjan och huvudduken helt ok, det är deras val och något även kvinnor i Sverige bar på 1800-talet. En läsarkommentar ”En fantastisk reseskildring genom inre och yttre landskap! Jag sträckläste Franciska von Kochs ”Omvänt uppror”. Spännande och högaktuell bok om hennes liv med pashtunfolket i trakterna som Malala kommer ifrån. Rekommenderas varmt!! Johan Bergstad, leg psykolog, mindfulnesslärare, www.franciskavonkoch.com Köp min bok här: http://www.adlibris.com/se/sok?q=omv%C3%A4nt+uppror
Här nedan ser du en av mina favoritbilder från sommaren som gick: inspirerad fotograferade jag hundratals bilder och ofta lekte jag som här med solens skugga av mig själv på väggen.
HEDRA DET SENSUELLA & ATT HEDRA DIG SJÄLV blir bästa presenten
The shells splendour when uncovered revealing a heart full of space loving presence hits the walls breaking down what is no more needed the pearly person emanates loving mystery
