Ask the Priestess

I am sad. When was the last time you said it? Even more to the point, when did you last say 'I am sad' to another person? At a guess, you don't remember it. You might have said 'I am upset', 'I am pissed off!', 'I feel depressed' or even 'I don't feel all that energetic' (quite a mouthful). But 'I am sad'? That honest, simple statement has probably eluded you for quite some time. There seems to be something quite childish and puny about it. As though being sad where the realm of an unrefined understanding of feelings. Sure, kids can feel sad but we don't expect to hear about it. We do try our best to prevent that state. So youngsters are encouraged to claim and proclaim they are happy, and learn to have temper tantrums and scowl when they are "not happy". We are not sad! 18th century gents and ladies were "melancholy", others were "distempered", music is "blue"... How can we be sad...

In the last few days, I feel I speak too much. I am always a chatterbox, that's true, but these days, I can feel myself tire from it. How often do the others feel tired from listening? It is difficult, at times, to understand what is behind our actions and feelings. And, of course, it has taken me to actually sit down to write about it to realise the root of the situation. What prompts us (I am the example) to talk and not listen? The desire for control. If we talk, we control what is being said, what the others are thinking about. We can lead the "conversation" in the direction we want it to go, where we set up the limits, the goals, the humorous snippets. We talk to avoid listening, not to elicit a reply. Or, we make sure the environment drowns our voices: loud music in the pub; fast-pace offices; music devices to isolate us from the other commuters on the bus... Still, I think it is less a matter of lack of respect for others, and more an issue of uncertainty, of...

Sometimes, hearing something negative is a blessing. I have had confirmation this morning: hearing about a negative result can make me want to dance and sing. There is no right or wrong in life. Just perception. I decide to perceive the good in the negative. I decide to expect to receive more wonderful negatives. I have lost my fear of negation. I can see the plants outside, swaying in the wind. The summer is finished, and the holidays are over. It is time to stay home more, have less hours of sun and think of hibernating. It is time to plant what I mean to reap in spring, enjoy a good read and dream. I refuse to be cowed by circumstances. I cannot control the outside, but I can control the inside. I am learning by inspirational example - amazing, grand, generous, and brave. Joy is the heart of Life! I had forgotten although I kept mentioning it. The negative has brought me Joy. And I am grateful. I shall live. For me, and for no-one else. Not because I want to be selfish, but ...

It was a sunny day, and we were surrounded by families, laughter and learning. We were at The Tower of London. Now, if you have never been there you may not know that it is actually a series of fortifications which started as a King's castle but became most famous as a prison and place of horrors. And as I was sitting there, resting for a bit, soaking up a few late-summer rays while my companions visited the military museum, I realised:  it was 11th September. Hum.  Here we were, in a historical location of pain, on a day made famous by pain (and its bellicose consequences) - yet the fact that the place held no more pain but life, that the day was a sunny Saturday of cheer and well being, was more powerful. I reJoiced!! It filled me up with hope and gratitude for the gift: it is not the pain, not the death and the horror; it is the cheer, the life and the curiosity. Not only were we in the Tower on such a date, but it was also the 70th anniversary of the Battle of Britain - ...

It often surprises me that people I know believe I am a daring person. It's cute, really. I am one of the least voluntarily adventurous people you could think of. In fact, I am often so worried at doing/not doing things that the reasoning behind  a choice is apprehension. For example, I take on new chances when they turn up because I am petrified at the thought I might be missing out on something good that won't come by again. Urgh!! It gives me the chills. Or, an even worse scenario (nightmare central, in my book): looking back in time and regretting missing out on the chance. It got me thinking about what daring really is. Basically, it functions like a pushing hand at the back, making sure we move forward towards self-development and progress. It is through it that we achieve perpetuity. And it is the greatest element we need to really love - and if you don't believe me, think of slugs and spiders, who literally take their lives to the very brink (they dare, in other w...

It takes a village to raise a child. How many people does it take to help the child grow and become a wo/man? I am the result of the efforts of many. Some of the wonderful people, and most of the horrid ones, are lost to the mists of time (or, rather, a bad memory). But most of my "village" are either with me or pop up randomly. You can do your count for your personal case as I do mine. In fact, please do so. Feel how their memory heals the gaps in your self-understanding, helping you come out the rounder for it. And thank them. I suppose the village starts immediately outside your family home door: your neighbours. I grew up in a city, in flats, and so we literally shared the building with other people. If we could not be looked after by our family, they would open their doors. Most are now gone, which makes it more poignant when I go back yet cannot visit. They were generous, for simple neighbourly reasons. I want to be like them. Second down the timeline are the peop...

I have come to realise of late that there are three ways to live life: first hand, second hand, and third hand. First-hand life is the one where you make your own choices, inform and reason them. You take full responsibility, and also full enjoyment for it. And, amazingly enough, it is not the most common style, but the least. At the summit, the pyramid is sparsely populated. Among first-hand-life examples we encounter people who are genii or fools, but invariably outside the norm and oftentimes widely (and wildly) admired: Buddha, Einstein, Elizabeth I, Mozart, Hitler... Yes, they can be wonderful people, or monsters, but they live on their own terms. Second-hand life is the one where you live life through, often unconscious, imitation and admiration of others. It is a "repeated" life, in a way. You still take responsibility, but it is all partial. It is the kind of life one would have when dedicated to please others, maybe parents or friends, so they feel comfortable wi...

I used to think that 'I love you' was the most powerful thing you could say. I amend that. I think 'I love you' may be the most beautiful thing you want to hear, but 'Thank you' is the strongest message you can give. In fact, I have come to understand the latter as an added-on form of the former. Please, let me explain. Telling someone you love them is a marvelous thing. It is marvelous because it gives to both the teller and the listener. The one who says it does so from a warm, constructive feeling of communion, care, affinity, and generosity. When you get to the point where it must be said, it is because all your realities (physical, psychological and spiritual) have recognised the Joy of that other one's presence in your Life - and the other can be a person, an animal, a plant, an entity... you name it. Saying it; actually forming the words in your mind, with any part of your body, grants you the Joy of becoming aware of that instinctual recognition. A...

There is a bee "nosing around" my living room. Maybe I should be scared...  But why? After all, poor thing, it is much smaller than I am, and if it were to defend itself (i.e. sting me) it would die. Why, then, are tiny bees so scary? Because they are tiny. It is the small things that have the greatest power, after all. It is the atom that can form or destroy (if unbalanced) our world; it is a baby (two half-cells to begin with) that holds all human potential, and that sends its parents panicking with a small cough; it is a smile, not a laugh, that conveys most meanings... It is the small things. Most great events (not necessarily good, just resonant in some fashion) started with apparently dismissable triggers: a regional-national assassination got the 1st World War going; amino-acid aleatory blending fused life as DNA; modern physics tell a tale of an apple, hydraulics that of a bathtub in Greece, and religion of a tree and a bite of fruit; a degree or two in temperature ...