Hope is Waiting

Hope sits waiting.

She is ready, willing and able.

For when you have conquered it you can go out and face it all once again.
Garaged, Off Road for when your new life awakes.
A tank full of fuel and her bodywork gleaming, like a crystal blue lake.
Bringing back your smile, as you race towards Adventure together once again.
She is patient, relaxed and all the things you are not.

You must never abandon Hope, you must allow her to pick you up and travel the journey together, experience what Life holds just around the corner, as you travel along the road in your bid for freedom.

There may be twists and turns, unexpected obstacles, but Hope will get you through.

India Blue – Hope is What it Represents

The Daily Post – Hope is Waiting

 

Fragile, Handle with Care

It felt like possibly her darkest hour, when, not understanding what is happening to her, Carlotta sank into a deeper depression. She didn’t think that it would be possible to feel more depressed than she had felt before, but it was as though her previous experience had barely scratched the surface of the depth of these feelings. To be even lower than the low that she had previously experienced.

So many things can trigger it, past feelings coming back to the fore, emotions are raw and at that time she didn’t know what had hit her. She then suddenly and inexplicably felt quite so totally alone, like never before. Like no-one could break through it, unreachable in a glass box for all to see, but unable to break out of it. To be abandoned by both friends and family for a while. She may have put herself there, shutting herself away trying to deal with the thoughts in her head and the feelings she may be coming to terms with, or it may be that they had no idea what to do with her, how to cope with the new version of her which they may be seeing for the first time ever. The person whom they know and love, hidden so deeply within that they can no longer see them. Had she become a shadow of her former self? Perhaps she was a wilder, more erratic person, signs of all the things that she hated about herself, bright and raw, there for her and everyone to see. All her emotional scars visible to the naked eye. She was once so vibrant, un-phased by it all, seemed to take it all in her stride, where has that confidence gone? Well, that walked out along with the people who couldn’t take it. Perhaps they all left town together on their road trip, perhaps they will send her a postcard. Maybe not.

She hoped that in time that both she and they will see a new person appear. It may look like the original on the outside, but if she is lucky she will have gained strength from the experience, it will not have weakened her beyond repair. There will be shades of the original there for the friends and family who have not given up on her. They will tread tentatively around her for a while, while they figure out where the new boundaries are. Other people she may know may take this opportunity to test how far she can be pushed, what she will stand for. As long as she doesn’t break again in the whole process she has a chance of recovering her momentum once again. Will she regain a sense of purpose, power over it again and move on?

The new version will be more determined, much stronger, less trampled by others, the new version of her will be a force to be reckoned with.

Time is a great healer, Time will also tell.

The Daily Post – Abandoned – Fragile, Handle with Care

#linkyourlife

A Mouse called Rummage.

Image030

This is Rummage.

I’m not sure how you may feel about visiting Mice in the workplace, but in a place which was close to fields, quiet and where I worked alone quite often sometimes it was nice to see another being joining me as I worked late into the night.  At the time I used to average around 50 hours per week working until the job was done, my colleagues were part time.  This little mouse used to appear, just before dark, it being a nocturnal creature by nature, it probably assumed that I was invading it’s space.  I would work at my desk and suddenly a little rustle would be heard usually in the waste paper bin next to the desk.  I had to think of a name for him and Rummage suited him perfectly I thought.

I must admit, I was quite alarmed when he first appeared. (I am only assuming that it was a he) I think that is just human nature, but thought that if I didn’t create a fuss and left him to his own devices, then he wouldn’t cause me any harm. This arrangement worked for us and I kind of looked forward to seeing him.  I do love animals and used to keep hamsters and gerbils as pets. Of course, it usually goes that if there is one mouse, you will usually find more, especially when there is food about although I only ever saw this one mouse.  My colleagues, were not great at clearing up after their feeding frenzy, so there was always something for him to find.  He was quite blatant, into the bin, eat his fill, then running up the back of the wires and suddenly pop out of the drawers in front of me as I typed, sitting there washing after his snack, and watching me with interest.

Of course, it was game over when someone else saw him, shrieking all over the place and a trap was set to catch him.  They were certain we must be overrun with Mice.  I wanted it to be a humane trap so that he could be released, however I was overruled and Rummage was soon despatched to the next life, I missed our regular evening encounter.

Who Will Buy? In the words of Oliver Twist..

It’s inspiration that we find in the strangest of places, today this tune and a couple of lines of it have been going around my head.

In the words of Oliver Twist…

Who will buy
This wonderful morning?
Such a sky
You never did see!

Who will tie
It up with a ribbon
And put it in a box for me?

So I could see it at my leisure
Whenever things go wrong
And I would keep it as a treasure
To last my whole life long.

Who will buy
This wonderful feeling?
I’m so high
I swear I could fly.

Me, oh my!
I don’t want to lose it
So what am I to do
To keep the sky so blue?
There must be someone who will buy…

I set myself a goal when I began writing this blog and post my own brand of poetry here. Finally, I would be doing something that I wanted to do.  That special thing, ME TIME! and who knows, somewhere along the way, someone might like it and read it.

To all those of you who have so far brightened my days with your likes and comments, it is appreciated more than you could know.  To the people who follow this blog, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart, you give me a reason (and boy, do I love one of those) to go on with it.

So, I set about it.  Putting my thoughts on paper, (or laptop) random things, poems, feelings, photos etc and here we are, a few months later, although early days, I am making progress on to my next goal.

When I reach 100 poems that I have written, I will self-publish a book of poetry.  Some you will have seen here, some you will not. (After all, I have to hold something back) Like one last card to my chest, I sometimes get fed up with being the proverbial open book. So once I reach that 100, I’m actually almost there… Yay! I will start to select the few that will end up in my first book and I will have reached that goal.

I have a name, a format and a question…. Who will buy?  Then another, If it ever makes it to proper print, (hard copy) then should I wrap it up in a ribbon?

Since I am planning to self publish this book, I’d love to have a physical book for people to have, hold and share. If any other bloggers here have had any success in getting donations towards hard copy publishing and can give me any advice, it would be much appreciated.

For those of you who may now have the tune whizzing around your head, here’s a link to the words.  Who Will Buy… From Oliver Twist, by Lionel Bart

 

 

 

 

The Music of The Hills

6 (6)A storm is brewing, keep things close at hand.
The woods gently sing their quiet song.
The wind is blowing across the top along the land,
Begins it’s low howl it resonates deep and long.
Building itself up, as though to make an entrance,
Bending trees along the way, start to sway and dance.
Reaching it‘s crescendo thunder crashing through the hills,
A dramatic drum roll there it’s mad frenzy sending chills.
Hurling itself up before swirling around the ledges,
Nature singing out from the safety of the hedges,
Cattle calling across the way, invisible in the mist.
Lovers lost to it’s emotions, meeting for their tryst.
Eerily silent once again, this weather is a curse,
before tinkling raindrops signal the next verse.
Thoughts are stirred up taking you right back,
For a moment, you temporarily sidetrack.
Lost up there in music, a world away from your own,
As they rest again exhausted, the hills will sigh and moan.
This is the music of the hills,
Pay close attention to how it feels,
Of all things fierce and good.
Played out by the Orchestra of the Wood.

The Daily Post – The Music of The Hills

The Spiral Staircase

The Daily Post – Stairway

I am not quite sure when it became apparent to me, but one of my lasting memories as a child was the recurring dream.  I dreaded it’s arrival as I felt so out of control when it happened. The dream itself took on so many forms over the years, but always somewhere at some point in there was a spiral, almost like being in a vacuum somehow, being pulled always backwards downward as though on a spiral staircase.  Although it would always start slowly, as time went on, it would then drag me way too fast and I was powerless to stop it.  The sick dizzy feeling that going backwards fast can give you somehow remained with me once I had awoken.  I was very small when it happened for the first time.  In adult life, both physically and emotionally, I don’t like going backwards, I refuse to travel backwards on a train, it messes with my senses, gives me a headache and makes me dizzy again, bringing back that old familiar dreamlike feeling.  I also dislike not making progress however small, since I am naturally impatient and have to curb that sometimes, it seems to be a driving force.  Static is almost as bad as the backward spiral and I continue to fight against them both.

Welcome Back

I have missed your kisses.
The taste of you as you kiss me,
The pressure of your mouth upon mine.
Exploring me as you look into my eyes.
Reaching for me in that all enveloping make you feel loved and safe, nothing else matters moment.
I have missed the closeness, of your head resting against mine, being hand in hand and the curl of your hair, soft under my fingers.
Sickness had placed a distance between us, a cruel infection that neither had wanted the other to share, but inadvertently done so, making us sad, erratic and ill. Although a temporary setback we have been together all along, but that something has been missing, the closeness and we were somehow detached.

You are still here, I am still here, Let‘s celebrate.
Yesterday I stole my first kiss from you in ages and whispered “Welcome Back”
Although I had not even meant to do so it came so naturally, It made us both smile. I ran my fingers through your hair and sat cuddled up close to you, hand in hand and happy. We are Home, we are together.

Physical or Emotional

Scars.  Sometimes blatant, there staring you in the face. Like it or not. A constant reminder of things you want to forget, of the circumstances surrounding your particular experience. Sometimes unseen, kept under wraps, from the things you are trying to convince yourself that are making you stronger. Sometimes there is no outward sign at all, hiding the actions or the words of others.

Emotional ones may heal in time with understanding and effort, but wherever they happen to be indelible upon the person they remain.

Scars will never go completely, they change you. Some will wear them with pride, some will hide them away. Whatever your own personal choice, if you have them you cannot escape them. Some women will bear the scars of childbirth, for them it may be a wonderful thing, a celebration of something beautiful to show for all the pain.

The Daily Post

#Linkyourlife

 

 

A Little bit of Glamour, or Striving for Fabulous

It’s about time that I got glammed up again. I know that things must be getting better after all this time, when I start to think to myself I am feeling the urge to get glammed up. A chance to be Glamorous again. This urge, can last a mere moment, or if I am lucky I will push myself, find something smart to wear and try new make up, so that IF I should venture out somewhere and my weight or shape hasn’t changed then I am sure to know what to wear and not spend hours hunting for the perfect thing. I even thought about doing my nails. And was thinking about a photograph which was taken some years ago now, when I was going out to a function, In my mother in law’s gifted fur coat, good jewellery and make up and a sparkly dress. I showed my partner the photo a few months ago, he asked who it was. Then he remembered the coat and realised. My mother told me that I didn’t look like me. I took that as a kind of compliment, that I had somehow pulled it off being dressed up to the nines.

Ok so I might have to push myself to actually do this again now. I haven’t worn earrings for years and nail varnish for about 4 years, none not even when going out. I bought some, but it has gone off. Hmm, a lot can be said for that comment alone…

You know rather than an old favourite dress, I could try something new or wear something different. I am not used to going out you see, I used to be.  I worked in the events industry for a while, so I was used to being around people and mingling.  Some years ago, we had a different life to the one we had now. We had holidays abroad, went out to events and dinners’ fairly regularly and had a busy social life. I was quite the social butterfly. I am not quite sure what changed it all so drastically, but it stopped, so completely that I began to feel like a fish out of water in such places. I think it was after my last surgery, which changed both my body and my frame of mind.

A Hysterectomy can cause havoc upon your self confidence! Although I always felt as though my life had truly begun, opening up opportunities to enjoy myself in ways that I couldn’t before. My life totally changed. When your life changes in such a way, you are often unrecognisable to yourself, let alone others.

I have not been able to drink like I used to, which is not such a bad thing it’s definitely healthier for me. Although people think that you can’t have so much fun. I guess you see fun in a different light and sober you can‘t see the sense in not knowing how you made it home. I also figured that if I drove myself, then I would always know that particular answer. However, I do still have the occasional few drinks but don‘t get smashed very often. I also have an inbuilt stop button, where suddenly when I have had enough alcohol, I will just stop and drink water. I can’t help it, I get thirsty!

I also figured that I wasn‘t great around loud noise any more, with high blood pressure, a side effect of growing up in our family which arrived before the operation and has not left, I find that the bass or beats pound through my head, raising it to an uncomfortable level leaving the throbbing in my ears and waves of nausea through my body and a headache which can last for hours. So bang goes the nightclub lifestyle or live music events, which is difficult to explain to a family who love it and is full of musicians.

We used to go to nice restaurants, especially when we were away. It is a sad indictment that the first words you learn in a foreign language for your holiday are “Hello, I am Lactose Intolerant, Please No Dairy.” It kinds of restricts you before you even start, at best, the resident chef will make you his project for “interesting new dishes” and at worst, you will suffer as I did in a beautiful chateau in France, where this was ignored and every dish was cooked in Butter. Tasting absolutely amazing, but I couldn’t make it through the meal before running for the bathroom.

Now, our social events usually revolve around a meal with family or friends, usually relaxed and in one or other’s homes. The chance to talk, (we do a lot of that) and I feel that in some ways, even though it may be temporary, we are living slightly vicariously, hearing about other’s fantastic holidays and events and this needs to change.

So although it has been a while, I think that I should make time to find a nice outfit, as though I was going out somewhere fabulous again, prepare myself for the event and do my make up and with it build the confidence to throw myself back out there headlong into the world and all it has to offer.
I think even if I can’t quite pull off Glamorous, then I should at least aim for Fabulous.

The lyrics in my head, “Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start all over again”