The voice, the pen

I have often noticed how, what one feels, another thinks. Why, then, should we not share those thoughts and feelings? It might make things clearer for all... Here, I am offering snippets on whatever gets me thinking, with the intention of sharing these moments with you, hoping for a dialogue of sorts. Whether a word, a sentence, a whole text, please, share.

Sunday 24 November 2013

The people in my life

The people in my life
can sing, can dance,
can climb trees and
explore the land.
 
The people in my life
live near, some far,
live in awe of magic
of joy, ecstatic.
 
The people in my life
love sunsets, sunrise,
love others, love much,
the people in my life.
 

I, like everyone, am surrounded by the magical love of friends and family. These people, I believe, I created as they have created me, to share and grow and smile. They love me so truly, they sometimes challenge me to go beyond my comfort zone; and, though kicking and screaming, I accept, for I know they will not leave me to flounder alone.

This mini-poem (or group of verses, rather) just came unbidden as I was sat here. I chose to share it, because I also believe that, whether I know you personally or not, those of you at the other side of the screen are also people in my life.

I honour you, near or far, and thank you for being here, along for the ride.

Wednesday 20 November 2013

Thank you, Olivia

I have been having a rough time lately, facing my own nonsense. Yes, you know, the kind that nags in your head 'you have to be good to be liked', and 'they don't really want you there', and 'that comment about someone being rude was about you. It doesn't matter if you don't think you have been rude, you have to think harder, because for SURE it was about you! Think, think, think. What have you done!?!?' That nonsense which, though it IS nonsense, can still be quite powerful.

Today in particular was just such a (nut)case, with me going round and round in my head all day that my landlord must want me to leave, and that is what the chat in the evening was to be about, and that comment about 'that's just rude' as he was leaving in the morning was about me (now you understand where I got the example). I honestly was seriously considering going online and starting to look for a new place while at work. Except, that is, that I was too busy doing other stuff and didn't get around to it. And that, thankfully, I am learning to stand up to my nonsense and stare it down - sometimes more successfully than others.

Well, after work, I went to the gym, for a swim. I love swimming! It's the magic of being suspended, back in the amniotic fluid as it were, and with the cadence of the strokes to lul you. Of course, I also like the fact that it tones me and people are noticing my new shape, but that's just a by the bye. Back to the story, I went for a swim. I had the whole pool to myself! I met the first person when I came out, and moved to the hot tub. Bubble bubble, toil and trouble! Out of the blue (or, rather, the male changing rooms) came my landlord, who I know was there because he called out to me. A few minutes later, still without my glasses, and seeing even less than usual thanks to the steam in the steam room, in he came! I decided to truly stare the nonsense down, and asked him what the chat was to be about.

No, it was not that I had to move, that I was being rude or anything of the like. Rather, it was a few comments about how to use the washing maching to save energy now energy prices are on the up, and to offer his support when I get anxiety (he's getting trained in dealing with such issues as part of his job). D'oh! Nonsense, I tell you, and yet I still did feel anxious! Relieved, but anxious. And steamed like a prawn. Time to shower and get home.

Enter Olivia.

As I was leaving the pool, I saw a young woman with a little girl in the water. I smiled at them, they smiled back. Then, after taking my shower, as I was nearly finished changing (only had to do my hair, it's way too cold to go out with a wet mop), the woman and girl came in, the little one shivering. As they started getting the girl dressed, they chatted in another language (I thought French, initially, but I was wrong). Then, just because, I happened to look in the mirror and my sight caught the little girl's, so we both smiled.

'I'm five!' she proudly announced, obviously making the effort to speak in English.

For no reason other than we were both there and happy, we started chatting. She loved my clothes, I loved her jeans and sweater. She had not seen me in the pool, but I had seen her, how come? She showed me the gaps in her mouth the baby teeth had left behind. We played 'booh!' around the make-up counter wall. We shared names and birthday dates. I had to leave. She didn't want me to. She hugged me, 'I love you! You're pretty like a princess.' I hugged her back, 'And you ARE a princess.'

It's now a few hours later, and I just had to share the blessing of a real heart vs the noise of nonsense. Who has blessed you? Thank them, and pay it forward.

Thank you, Olivia.

Sunday 17 November 2013

What I did on a Sunday

I was hoping to spend a quiet day in bed, not for any reason (i.e. I'm healthy, no need to panic), just because I can since it was a Sunday. But no, I realised I actually wanted to go to Richmond Park (I have been in London for five years, but never there), and that I had to somehow explore.

So I sloooowly got dressed, even put on some make up (!!), checked the bus map and decided which buses I needed (without checking the TfL website! I'm very proud of myself, as it's become a sort of permanent crutch, that site) and eventually did leave the house. I decided to try and find another way to get to the bus stop, and followed a footpath between the houses. The good news is, I did manage to get to the stop. The so-so news are, it had taken me longer than without the 'shortcut'. And the 'harrumph' news, I had just missed the bus and had to wait another 20 minutes. Thankfully, I had bought myself gloves and a hat the previous evening, so I did not freeze, you might be pleased to know (yes, this is me typing, no lost digits, no need for a scribe).

I had to change buses at a place called Hatton Cross, and a-ma-zing-ly, I got off one and onto the other in a single move, and off we went! For an hour. By a place with a centre for young offenders. And a football-mad area. And over the Thames. And suddenly, on the other side of the river, Richmond. I must say, one of London's fabulous aspects is the seemingly random juxtaposition of areas, both social, architectural and economically speaking. This was just the same. Over the bridge, and after the unprepossessing Twickenham, we were faced with grand Georgian architecture, cafes by the river, boathouses, and a decidedly empire-European air. I confess, I lapped it up.

So, off the bus, and back track to some sort of roundabout to try and find the park. I had brought my map (I might have wanted to explore, but this is not virgin territory, so trying to get a idea of where more or less I was didn't sound too bad), and the park is huge (really, google it - it's even got deer!), and still I managed to keep missing it! It was sort of like Australia, anything but small, and still how long did it manage to stay happily ignored? In the end, success! I found a trail of fallen leaves, a muddy path, a carpet of acorns, and trees!! Love at first step. Despite the fading light, I went in for a bit. When I left, I knew I had not seen all I wanted, all that it had to offer. As in any early romance, there is still much to learn, to share, to sense.

On my way back, I remembered the cafes by the river, and, after a few unplanned detours (hey, it was cloudy! I could not navigate by the stars. And I had forgotten my astrolabe in the other bag anyhow), I got back to the water. But the cafes were closing, or serving dinner already. I sat on a bench, drank some water. A man came up, obviously both drunk and lonely, muttering to himself that he was a man of the world. He saw me and asked me, 'Are you a woman of the world?' I actually thought about it. 'I don't know.' He asked to sit down for five minutes, and I said fine. It was a public bench, but he was obviously touched that I had not recoiled in horror, disgust or fear. He made the most of the five minutes, telling me about his life, and how he used to play semiprofessional football, but was never good enough for the pro leagues - though his brother did play as a pro. He repeated it, again and again. Funny, when I had asked him why he drank (after he had asked me why I like red), he had not known.

We are masters are hiding the knives we injure our souls with.

I left him after the five minutes, peculiarly sorry for him, but not guilty as I used to be. I used to carry around the worry for all the ills in the world. Now, as I look at him and others like him, I am glad I have chosen a different life, and I am aware that we all can choose. I am glad I am willing to see my own hurt, go through it, and face the consequences. Then, observe what I have created, and move on, pain and all. I am glad I have created the people to do it with, the place to do it at, the process to do it through.

I chose to explore, and discovered an enchanted forest and my own, more honest, heart.

What did you choose today?