The cat

I’m starting to feel more relaxed. The summer is dying and all my troubles seem to fade with its death. My health is improving but I’ve lost a lot of hair, perhaps because of all the medicine and the penicillin, but most likely from all the emotional stress. I have to accept that I am highly sensitive to stress. In fact, all the recent health issues have pushed me forward in the process of self-acceptance. For the first time in my life I am forced to deal with my physical vulnerability while I am connected to mind, body and soul. I am out of the dissociative behavioral pattern, I am slowly beginning to explore my physical self without separating it from my mind or consciousness. It is a strange thing to be this connected to oneself – because I am suddenly aware of every part of me like they are newly added to my body. It is an odd combination with my hypochondria and at times I feel worried I would lose all my teeth, more hair or get really sick. I think this physical awakening is a phase of self-protection and self-compassion – I have allowed situations where my body has been abused in so many ways (by others but also by myself) and this new awareness is the first step to a new acceptance, forgiveness and forming a new sense of self-worth and self-respect.

Perhaps that’s what my recurring dream about the forgotten cat is about;  for years I’ve had this nightmare where I hear a soft whimpering noise coming from behind a sofa, I pull out the sofa and see a very thin and dying cat and that’s when I remember that I have a pet that I haven’t seen or fed in months. The cat is covered in dust and it’s starving. I feel so guilty. The fur is coming off and is covered with eyes, all blinking and looking at me. The cat wants me to pet it but I feel disgusted and creeped out. I slowly approach it with my hand and pet the fur and I can feel the glossy eye balls against the palm of my hand.

The cat is obviously me – or a representation of my body (I would use cat or lioness to describe my inner animal and I have lots of dreams where they appear) and I have failed to give it attention and love.

I’ve made some artworks based on this recurring nightmare, perhaps I’ll make more. It stills haunts me.

“The Nightmare” by Mia Makila, 2010

I won’t ever abandon myself again. It is the biggest crime you can commit to yourself while being alive on this Earth. Self-abandonment leads to so much suffering and the lack of self-compassion is the first step to any destructive thought or action. This season of health problems has taught me so much about just that.

The importance of dreams


I’ve heard many times that I can be intimidating to some people. “In a good way” they continue. But there’s nothing good with being intimidating, because it creates a distance. And I don’t understand why anyone could be intimidated by me – I am not a bad person. “It’s not that”, they say, “it’s the way you hold on to your dreams, no matter what.”

And that’s true. Although there have been moments where I’ve been dangerously close to feel them slipping away due to self doubts and feeling lost in life – and within myself.

But I’ve always had dreams – big dreams, dreams I could ride on, visit like a distant star, dreams that I could surf upon, be high on and dreams that kept me company throughout periods of loneliness and despair.

At the age of 5 I knew I wanted to be an artist and I told it to everyone – like I made a promise to the world; “one day, I will become an artist and make art!” In my early teens, I discovered writing and I guess I’ve always wanted to become a writer too, but I’ve focused mainly on the art (so far).


I think I intimidate people because of the way I use my dreams as a guiding light in my life – I’m always following this  thought-out path that will lead me to them – like goals instead of dreams, and that can be provocative to people who stopped dreaming. There is magic in our wildest dreams. There is pure light and love in our dreams. And because we are able to dream we are also able to make them come true. “What we think, we become.” Buddha very wisely wrote. That’s why dreams make us powerful – and we feel powerless without them. Dreams are like hope – an inspiration, and without it we feel lost, small and hopeless – followed by bitterness, jealousy and hate for those who keep on dreaming, no matter what.


We lose the connection to our dreams when we stop believing in ourselves and our potentials. We stop dreaming when we give up the will to work hard to make them come true. We no longer have access to our dreams when we feel content with what we already got and become comfortable with that idea. We can no longer reach our dreams when we begin to compare ourselves to other people’s talents, achievements and dreams. We forget to dream when we deny our true nature. We lose the sight of our dreams when we reject the idea of magic. And we bury our dreams in our bitterness when we no longer feel powerful enough to pursuit them.

But here’s the good news; nobody is responsible for killing our dreams but ourselves – which means that we all have the power to give birth to new ones.