I have 28 new babies!

Children come in many forms. Many shapes, colours and expressions.

There are beautiful children, and the "beauty" is often culturally determined. In some cultures, a baby with girth is considered beautiful. In others, a sign that its calorie intake must be monitored, to avoid obesity.

Then, there are "ugly" children. Those who fall outside of the norm, whether it is due to a handicap of some form, a lack of symmetry, or a "deviant mind". Neuro-atypicals - such as kids on the autistic spectrum, who through stimming, self-harm or non-verbal expressions of their difference in world perception, challenge us.

I grew up among the atypicals. Men, women and children with Down's, autism, cognitive deficits, physical handicaps ... my crowd. I was blessed with meeting Eivind, who though his parents considered him "their punishment from God" (they probably never knew that Down's is more prevalent when you get a child late in life) was a light that lit up any room. With Bj?rn (same label) whose insistence on me accompanying him to a nightclub led to meeting the woman who became my wife - with 25 years of marriage, three children and one grandkid being the result. He was the kind of man who could take one look at you, and ask "How are you doing?" - and when he got a surface'y reply of "I am fine" he followed up with "No. How are you doing ... really?".

And I met ?sta. She was non-verbal, mostly, obese, and strong as an ox. I was a bit scared of her; at one time, she lifted a child who made too much noise up by the hair. And she loved music, often humming along with whatever song was playing in her mind.

Being the son of psychologist Reidun Ueland didn't make for a simple life. But I have tasted the most complex flavours and shades of life. So ... thank you, Mother. Here's a song in your memory.

In my life, I have been blessed with many meetings like this. They are my Divine Splinters .

I could keep going. Though my life in social work has left me scarred with compassion fatigue and an instinctive mistrust in the systems we have created to take care of our most vulnerable, the meetings are what sticks to my heart soul.

Before I get back to the theme of this newsletter - how about a poetic interlude? This poem was supposed to be one of my babies, but came to late...

Divine Splinters

A hush has fallen over Gaia?right now

A stillness so deep that it shouts

A velvety softness, a fragment of peace

That extinguishes?lingering doubts

As humans we raise our?souls?to the sky

A race that was born in a dream

A gathering wave of love starts to fly

A wave that was born from a scream

As?warriors gather, and mothers unite,

Divine splinters fall from the stars

A voice gently whispers a unified?dream

One day we will heal our scars

The cry of a baby, a toddler so pure,

A?promise of peace in our time,

One more joins the chorus, as love starts to reign

An angelic voice starts to chime

As?warriors gather, and mothers unite,

Divine splinters fall from the stars

A voice gently whispers a unified?dream

One day we?will heal all our scars

Yes, I have been blessed. I got to grow up in Norway, the land of the Aurora Borealis, vikings and the midnight sun. Where people (mostly) don't go bankrupt if hit by a severe illness. Where you can go to school and university without paying millions in school fees.

BTW - I am getting a bit tipsy. Am drinking a decent Italian Barbera (Riva Leone) while writing, and as a monk, my tolerance isn't what it used to be in my profane life. So if I get a little sentimental and emotional, please bear with me.

My granddad was a bauta of a man. After WWII, he dared to challenge those who shouted "crucify" at people who collaborated with the German invaders. It didn't make him popular in many circles, but he held on to his integrity, both as a High Court lawyer and as a man. My grandma had a beautiful voice and played the piano with tenderness and lightning fingers. Without her, he would never had been able to stand strong in the battles of post-war Norway. So - sk?l to you, Erling & Borgny Ueland.

Before I delve into my 28 babies, there are two more people I want to mention.

Olav Ullestad was my first music teacher. He was a teacher of accordion, and received the King's Medal of Merit in 2018, which was also the year he died. I studied with him from the age of four until we moved from Voss at eight.

By that time, I played Csardas (if you by now are getting a TL;DR feel - click that link and let David Garrett bring you to another level before you go).

And now, finally, it is time for you to meet my new babies. All 28 of them.

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Click this link and pick your poison.

Happy New Year!