Monday, March 28, 2005

Melodrama steeped in truth

Somethings that I take for granted in my life, shock other people. Long ago accepted truths that I could not change when I wanted to, and no longer have the need to do so. In my shoes, it is all ok, most of the time, except days like today. It carries onto the next generation, and my daughter suffers the same treatment that I have lived with almost all my life. She feels no warmth from a source that should have been naturally so. It amazes me, how it could fail to be right. And it astounds me, that I have no course of action available to me. I cannot wait to leave behind treacherous hearts and the ice cold womb known to me now as home and surround myself and my daughter with the warm summer sun.

The rollercoaster rules!

Wouldn't it be quite nice to be the marionet master once in a while, especially when one can see those around moving in a direction that one knows nothing good can come from. I have a hard time dealing with inexplicable actions. Clean lines suit me best. I've come across people and still do so, who say and do things that I cannot deride any logic-based reasoning behind. I am quite good at understanding people, I believe, yet sometimes I cannot fathom an iota. People have left me for good, through their choice, my own or death and I still spend days pondering what made them so.
Its said, Life is stranger than fiction, and its absolutely true. I could tell stories about my life that others would find very hard to believe. If I ever wrote an autobiography true to the events as they happened, it would be deemed unrealistic. Gosh, that's so funny!
Why some of us are deemed to live a life of calm whilst others are thrashed about from side to side is beyond me. It would be nice to think, it at some point would make sense. But I doubt it does.
Every step one takes effects not only our own lives but the world around us. There are no do-overs. We influence our immediate environment, and it influences us.
The world is like a theme park.
We wait in queues wasting precious time. Some rides we deem to scary or too boring and stay away from, whilst heading straight for the ones, we believe we would enjoy the most. Once in a while, we are convinced to chance them, and find to our surprise we love it, or spend the rest of our time thinking we should have trusted our own instincts and not let others influence our decision. Some rides are thrilling and scary all wrapped into one. They take us from start to finish in a death-defying roar of intensity, travelling at great speed, pushing us through a whole range of emotions in a short amount of time. Others go around and around, accompanied by soothing music, a small smile and a trace of boredom. Some push our boundaries and some make us nauseous. Some bring rewards and others just cost us. Some make us laugh and some scare us. Either way, the rides are all memorable and the waiting we realize was inevitable.
Like bumper cars, we are all travelling independently, but often bump into one another and that bump veers our path off in an entirely different direction than the one we were travelling in.
Its all just part and parcel.
And we cannot always choose, who is sitting next to us. We choose them without knowing the outcome and on occasion they are chosen for us by the person taking us for a ride. Our companions may enhance our enjoyment, detract from our pleasure or even vomit all over us, but the ride continues until it does not.
In the end, there is nothing to do, but take what pleasure one can get.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

Love to love you

Uncondtional love is a strange concept. To love someone despite their faults and because of them. Humans are not infallible, myself included. The conditions in which unconditional love breeds are not always what one might expect them to be. It isn't a given that a parent will love their child regardless. Personally, I do not think there is anything in this world that could eradicate my love for my daughter, but congratulate me not, as this is by far the most natural of these loves. The majority of parents will feel that way. What interests me is, that I feel this way about others in my life. Granted, these people share my blood, but it is not all who share my blood, who are rewarded this way.
It sets the wheels turning in an attempt to discover the differences between them. Why some could never lose me, and others could. Partly it has to do with trust and past experience, but mostly it is the very essence of their own hearts. To be pure or not to be pure. And the very purity is of complex nature.
There are some, I know would never be questioned, and even if they were, it would be so far out of what I expect from them, it would without doubt take reason and cause in events extraordinary. Others are weaker, their hearts less defined, their morals more of a blur. With them, expectance almost always give way to reality. But we love them anyway, it just isn't the same.
With the unconditionals, I would still be right there, up close and personal, giving everything I have.
In the case of the others, it may come as far so as to love afar. But the door of redemption is at all times flung wide.
Besides love is not the same as liking, but together the two are awesome. A brilliant glow almost painful in its intensity, breathtaking in its directness and formidable in tis entirety. To have just one such love is surely the greatest gift in the world. Most of us have multiple.

I tell a lie

I absolutely detest untruth and being lied to. People like to colour lies with all the different shades that fall between black and white. To me, the very concept is simply black or white. A lie is a lie is a lie, and although the very amount of hurt caused may vary in its intensity, it still hurts us, even when we do not know it.
I will not protest and say I have never told a lie, the very statement would be one. Life seems to be impossible to get through without them, but it is possible to do ones best to avoid these situations.
As I sit here, I am trying to remember the last time I lied, and in truth, it isn't that long ago. How may I justify it, whilst still staying true to my conviction. A lie is not a decision made lightly. It is not to be used as the easy way out of any given situation, nor should they be used to stand oneself in better light. There are little lies more equal to good manners, to be used to avoid causing deliberate hurt for no reason, although even these are possible to skirt around with much honesty used in the most careful way - and giving way to others thinking ill of one.
Difficult it is to requite the two extremes.
I present the truth, when there is no reason not to.
I present the truth, when asked to.
I expect the truth at all times.
To the best of my knowledge, I do believe, there are only two occasions, when I turn tail.
When I myself am not 100% sure, I present the options in their entirety with emphasis on the most favourable or magical.
And when I know telling the truth would cause irrevocable, unquenchable anguish to another.
A lie is still a lie, and we live with the burden through active choice.

Its compromise that moves us along

It occurs to me sometimes, how nice it would be to have absolutely no one to answer to. The theme from "Cheers" was the comfort of being in a place, where everyone knows one's name. Perhaps it keeps us on the straight and narrow to have people around us judging at every turn, but as I would not fall too far from the curb, it does not worry me. My morals are in tact. Just once in a while, I fear that others are holding me back, or at the very least the thought of what they might think of me. I am my own person and do not rely on others to make my decisions for me, but other people's opinions can at times effect the outcome of one's own thoughts and actions.
I know, my life would have taken a different turn, had it not been so. Along the way, I have managed to let go of some of 'putting others first'. I've given up years of my life for other people. It didn't seem so bad, when I was younger, and I doubt, I would change any of it, given the opportunity.
There are just some things that are impossible, and turning my back on someone in need, seems to be one of them. There are certain people in this world, whose pain I cannot bear and will do anything within my power to ease, even at great personal expense. There is no other option. I would lie, cheat, steal, die and kill for them.
And when I make wishes, it is for them.
I don't make any for myself.
I wish that I could set them up, have their every need met, whereby I could set off and greet my own life as it comes, taking my chances against luck and the elements, free from the cares of worrying about them.
As I have said before, there are very few of the important choices in life, that are truly ours to make. Lots of outside influences that shape our lives for better or for worse. The question is, would we want it any other way. To be all alone in the world, to care about no-one and to have no-one care about us.
In the end, it seems to be all about compromise. Compromise, belonging and balance.
And if we never reach our full potential, at least our conscience will be clear.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Let's go drastic

I'm thinking of making drastic changes. Admittedly, I do tend to make them every 2-3 years, moving from one country to another, from one career to another, from one life to another. Life just now is placid. I am taking a lazy stroll. In a few short weeks, it will be like stepping onto one of those moving walkways at the airport, getting from A to B in a short amount of time, and having only fleeting memory of all in between.
In 9 weeks, I am going on a trip of a lifetime. A trip in time, and distance and relationships. This particular moving walkway will last for almost 2 months and it will surely be system overload on experiences and activity, and all of it in beautiful, tropical surroundings. I cannot wait.
Thereafter, there is a lull of just a few weeks, before I embark on a new life in a place, where everything will be different. I had intended, when I first came here, to stay here for a minimum of 10 years - this being the amount of years, my daughter would attend school. Myself and my siblings were moved many times. I have moved school 7 times, and I did not want that for my daughter. As parents, we focus on what was wrong in our own childhood, and are determined to do it differently. (This is part of a funny poem - I'm not saying it's true!)
They f*** you up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to, but they do
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra just for you
Things didn't work out for me here, but still I was prepared to stay, until I considered the fact, that my child is very different from the child that I was. I was a quiet, well-mannered, shy, enclosed child, whereas my daughter is exceedingly sociable, brave and headstrong. I know, she will embrace whatever challenges, she faces in life, and will be right at home wherever she finds herself within hours.
People are different, and its a wonderful thing. I've surrounded myself in recent months with people, who keep surprising me with their giving, decent, humorous, warm, accomodating actions. I know, I sound shocked, and I really am. Its wonderous to experience so many good, non-selfish people without an agenda. These are the people, I am spending my trip of a lifetime with, and they are in large part the reason, it will be so. The other part is naturally I.
Life as it is today, and life as it will turn out, are almost as far removed as they can be. Its incredibly exciting to be standing on the verge of this embarkment. Changes will indeed be drastic.
More so, I am thinking, a new life needs a new look.
My hair is the one giant leap, I cannot easily decide to make. What if it doesn't work out. What if I hate it.
:-)
Golf balls and mayonnaise jars. Explaination to come.
Life is great!

Monday, March 21, 2005

Note to self

Some weeks ago, I spoke of feeling something approaching and being fearful about what it was. Today, I was promised some information, although the phonecall did not come - tomorrow instead. I have also spoken of wanting the truth, regardless of the consequences. I will not be sorry no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what I am told. My phonecall consists of new information about the past. All was not what it seemed, and the truth may be terrifying. It may also be secret. A burden, I will not be able to share, and at the same time knowing, I am privy to the truth where others close to me are not. I am making a decision, taking responsibility, and keeping the unpleasantries to myself. I can handle them, but they almost certainly could not. I'll never be sure, and this, I shall also have to make my peace with. The above I note, so that I may remind myself in times ahead, in times of doubt.

Sunday, March 20, 2005

Decadence at its most glorious takes a very simple format

Something nobody ever speaks of in regard to becoming a parents is, along with the intense joy it presents, it will also leave you with a gut-wrenching fear that harm shall befall your child. I know, I can cope with just about anything other than losing my daughter.
I actually have nightmares about it. I worry myself to the point of panic, if she is not where I thought she was. I worry she will poke out her eye, cut off a finger, be kidnapped, molested, beaten, murdered.
It is a touch past normal, I do realize, but I also accept, it is tied into my childhood friendships and dreams. The official figures of how many children have suffered is astounding. Either I have in me something, which attracts those needing help, or the figures are even more wide-spread than is believed. I prefer the first case - the second cancels out any thought that that decency and humane behaviour outweigh evil acts and cowardice. Almost every close relationship, I have ever made has at some point brought to surface a past filled with hurt and abuse. I always instinctively knew what to do, how to act and what to say. The feelings of being able to help gave birth to the idea, this is what I wanted to spend my life doing. From the age of 11, I was certain, I knew my fate. I intended to work with young victims of abuse, a childpsychologist helping these kids to overcome their past and go on to live well.
Along the way, in early adulthood, it occured to me, with malicious help, maybe I wasn't cut out for it. Maybe I didn't have it in me.
It was a time of stress, a time of challenge, and although I came out of it stronger, I'd been faced with and accepted my lack of invincibility. At the risk of sounding like a wining baby, the next years presented environment after environment that challenged in turn every part of my emotional self. Time and time again, I questioned my strength. I eventually proved all I needed to know, and much that I could very well have lived without ever realizing, but my dreams were gone forever.
I had realised, I would never be off-duty. Their pain would haunt me relentlessly, even if I was able to help them past it, I would find it impossible to let it go.
Having a child has only made me more susceptable to the plight of injured children. Now, whenever I see pain, I see my daughter's face in their place. One would think, this would make me determined to assist in any way I can, but the truth is, I cannot do it. I cannot take on board their suffering - it cuts me too deeply, and I fear, I will not recover.
So, now, I turn to literature. My love affair with the English language. I adore Shakespeare. Jane Austen enthralls me. Angela Carter presents great challenge. And I can just about cope with Maja Angelou, Alice Walker and other such real storytellers. Words are beautiful, whatever their form. I like the sounds, the simple differences in tone, the blinding clarity of the written word, its adjustability to its immediate environment and the changes it makes to accomodate a feeling. I like analysing words, its safe. Safer that taking on the responsibility of analysing humans. And much, much easier.
Words are an internal pasttime, tucked away in the realms of the mind, never having to engage in the outside world. I can pick and choose. I'm not forced to deal with upfront pain.
I enjoy creating the look of enlightenment as it strikes in others. Feeding that inate curiousity about the world in every form it takes. Carrying them as far as I can, and then letting them good-naturedly exceed me in their knowledge. Teaching would be a noble profession. I teach a little twice a week, but it isn't my day job, and it has occured to me recently, perhaps I should make it so.
If I did, it would be temporary, whilst I wait to obtain the dream that exceeds all others.
I have a story to tell and tell it I will, although to whom is still a source of contemplation. The ending is uncertain and the skills to do so are yet lacking. My time will come.
This is where the decandence comes in. This place I occupy here, is all about me. Its my space, where I do not have to worry about or even slightly consider the outside world. Spelling, flow, grammar and subject are not the be all and end all. It doesn't matter, if nobody reads these segments (although at least 1 person does - thank you most kindly for your warm comments, friend of a dear friend), it's my opportunity to indulge myself, give myself doses of pure pleasure. Altruism in not only not healthy, its not natural. We need to pamper ourselves once in a while, to be self-indulgent, to cover ourselves in a blanket of cozy happiness, so that we may invigorate and exhilirate and thereby have excess to do right by others.
I'll take care of me, and you and you and you, and if he/she does the same, we'll all be ok.

Saturday, March 19, 2005

Battles between me

I am blessed with a very good memory, but have found that after hurtful situations, my mind will put up a block and for the life of me, I cannot recount the details. It was shown to me again just recently, when I was asked to explain the events which lead me to disown a family member. Its just not clear in my mind anymore. Sometimes along the way, when enough time has passed, it will present itself anew at a time, when it will cause less pain.
For good or bad, I'm just not sure. I went through a stressful situation some years back. I coped, grew and survived this onslaught and carried on. Sometimes now, events from that time, will come back to me. Something triggers the memory, and at other times its jerked to the front of my mind out of the blue.
I believe in "Living well is the best revenge" and would happily preach it to others, but only because I simultaneously have a stronger belief in karma. There is no need for me to seek revenge, because surely life is fair, and that person will get what is coming to them. The religious amongst us would say that we all will have our day at the gates of heaven, but that's not good enough. I feel sometimes, as if I will never truly let go of the past, until I am sure that this particular culprit has suffered for their crimes upon my person. I do not have a forgiving personality. A person can cross me only once in a lifetime. They will not get another chance.
A few years ago, I heard rumours that things were not going well for this person. Right, I congratulated myself, its time...its coming around. I felt insanely happy, bursting, bubbling frissions of delight in this man's downfall, and I shall not apologuise for it. God knows, I gave him every chance to do right by me. Some things are just too much. Its the illogical acts that leave me dazed and saddened. Why? What was the reason? Thing is, bad things happen to those who do not deserve it, and that is obviously just the way of the world. It cannot be helped. That's why the whole karma theory is so wonderfully congenial.
As it turns out, shockingly, the rumours were untrue. It seems alls well in the land of ___. Its forced me to remind myself of what it is that I want from him. If I am insanely truthful, I do not want him to suffer, as I would not want anyone to suffer. What I really want, is for him to realise what he did to me, to be sorry for his actions and to wish, he had acted differently. And herein lies my problem, because I am very much afraid, I will not be able to forget otherwise.
I asked him why once. Desperately, beseechingly, and in great pain. I was ridiculed.
What I really truly hate is the fact that I ever put myself in that situation. I cannot move past that, and moving past it is essential to my piece of mind. I hate the fact that the past still has influence on my emotional present. But I do not know what to do about it.
I once was able to change the seemingly unchangable through will and pure strength of mind. Strength is, its said, power of the mind, not the body. I have it, I've proved it. So, although it pains me to say, perhaps the real issue is that I do not want to give it up.
Can't, won't, in the end it makes little difference. Its there, every day it's there. And every step I take is all about running away from it. I'm running with the thought that eventually I will leave it behind. And I wonder, if it is an actual possibility or whether I am just kidding myself, and I shall have to turn about and face it at some point in order to overcome it.
I wouldn't mind. In fact, I should quite like to have it out. Conflict is not something that scares me, infact I find it quite exhilarating. The fight, and winning.
If I was alone, I do believe, I would seek him out. Chase around on his metaphorical doorstep, challenge him knowing he would take me up on it. I know, I would win, as the means with which to do so are firmly established within me. Its completely personal, mine, and whatever weapons he chooses could not break that armour. It is in reality a battle between the old me and the new me, the pre-him and the post-him, and as such, the battle is over the minute I engage.
It just infuriates me that this is what I seem to need. But then, one should never apologuise for ones genuine feelings.
And so the question stands. Should I or shouldn't I. There are risks involved, and had I not the responsibility of a child, I would charge forth. ....I have just answered my own question in that one statement, because I do have a child, and so I cannot risk it, not even for my sense of self. I could still be put into that battle unprepared and it that case, so be it. Welcome. But it could never be pre-meditated...I could never choose it.
And until result comes either way, I guess, I will just have to live with it. Time will not heal this wound, I shall have to. Power of the mind.

Sorry, I'm busy that night

The most fun is having dreams and plans with no way of backing them up with any real sense or logic. I have always felt an affinity with Sydney, Australia. Something in my soul has always told me, this is where I will end up. I am actually planning for it now. Its still a way in the future, but I've made my first social commitment. Who other than me, would know what they are doing on a certain night in 2008 :-). I like that.
Everything I am doing at the moment is with Sydney in mind. I do not believe in having back up plans, as if one has them, they are more likely to be used.
I believe in gut feelings. I trust my intuative senses. If I can see it in my minds eye, it is possible. If I cannot, it isn't. Its quite comforting also, to be sure of something for no reason. I don't even dare think, what will happen to my spirit, should I be proved wrong, but I haven't thus far, and in all honesty, do not believe I will.
I see it all lined up in front of me. Its mine for the taking. I will not be wasting my opportunities. I will move actively towards what I want out of life. And the things I want, will approach me some day. I know, what my life will bring, why I am here, why I am who I am and why I see what I see. It all makes perfect sense, and has a logical conclusion.
Clarity. Belonging. Peace. Happiness.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

4 pieces of advice to men

Men,
4 pieces of advice in your quest to find that special someone.
Never buy a woman a stuffed toy as a sign of your affection
Watch every episode of Sex and the City,
Read Cosmopolitan magazine &
Learn from a man obviously in the know, the groover from Vancouver, Bryan Adams as he asks "Have you ever really loved a woman?", a song that is firmly cemented among the songs I cherish most for pure beauty, musically and within its simply complex lyrical context.

To really love a woman
To understand her
You gotta know her deep inside
Hear every thought
See every dream
And give her wings when she wants to fly
And when you find yourself lying helpless in her arms
You know, you really love a woman

You love a woman
You tell her that she's really wanted
You love a woman
You tell her that she's the one
She needs somebody to tell her that it's gonna last forever
So tell me, have you ever really, really, really ever loved a woman

To really love a woman
To let her hold you
'til you know how she needs to be touched
You gotta breathe her
Really taste her
'til you can feel her in your blood
When you can see her unborn children in her eyes
You know, you really love a woman

You love a woman
You tell her that she's really wanted
You love a woman
You tell her that she's the one
She needs somebody to tell her that you'll always be together
So tell me have you ever really, really, really ever loved a woman

You've got to give her some things
Hold her tight
A little tenderness
You gotta treat her right
She will be there for you taking good care of you
You gotta love your woman

And when you find yourself lying helpless in her arms
You know, you really love a woman

You love a woman
You tell her that she's really wanted
You love a woman
You tell her that she's the one
She needs somebody to tell her that it's gonna last forever
So tell me have you ever really, really, really ever loved a woman
Tell me have you ever really, really, really ever loved a woman
Just tell me have you ever really, really, really ever loved a woman

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Fear of the known

I know, what I am missing in my life. Its all the words of every song that ever made me cry. The moonlight beams diamonds of radiant light,
covers the cloak of darkness to spotlight
glistening silky blackness.
The edge of fear tinged with exhilaration and price.
Rocks of strength mounted in ever-increasing life.
Petals moist, shivering in the wings.
Hearts that burst forth in blissful spring.
Grass trodden lightly, bedfellow branches.
Effortless synchronisation before flowers at brunches.
Arms that surround the summersun rays.
Intimate nights and gloriously lazy days.
Circles in the sand, always room for more.
Entwined before all who can see, heaven and life, love and the door.
Each day matters, each dawn anew.
Feelings of pleasure, and substance and due.
Surround me with pretty and pray, that I know.
Small heads on a pillow even in darkness, hold a glow.
Newness and learning steeped with a twin,
smallness caged with a heaven therein.
Sadness will reign once a time, and
at the end the bells will chime.
But, oh, how I will cherish my mind.
Dreams chill my weakening bones, fear of failure, fear of the known.
Shroud me not forever to groan.
Buttercup, your colour is yellow,
I need to be touched, blessed are those who are so.
Let the wind carry my steps to the shore
And let me live there for ever more.

The Ocean

I wish, I could look upon the ocean each day. Stand at the abyss, looking out at the endless possiblility. Not needing to go, simply feeling the breath of foreign shores. I feel peaceful on the pebbles and sand, at home and at ease. An affinity was born on that very first breeze. In a life fraught with time and place, people and contraption, calm washes over my spirit watching waves break the land. If I lived by the sea, I would greet it every morning and each night and silently sleep there my last day of life. One day, I will be home, and when I am, I'll never stray again.